‘Men like myself?’

‘No, you will be good for him. I am sure of it.’ She turned away. She would have to be careful.

Hervey was well aware of her caution and was amused by it. There was nothing he liked so much as to exert his charm, and to have made the Queen aware of it delighted him.

Perhaps he should spend more time near to her.

He noticed one of her maids regarding him with some interest, and when he left the Queen’s presence he found her at his side. She was very handsome and very voluptuous. He knew of her. She was Anne Vane at present mistress of Lord Harrington, although Harrington was by no means the first man to have been her lover.

‘My lord,’ she said, ‘it is good to see you back at Court. I trust you will stay.’

There was invitation there. Hervey considered it. She interested him, partly because she must be as different from his wife as a woman could be. Molly was as cool as April; this woman was hot August.

Her gaze was flattering: ‘You bring out the male in me,’ he said.

She laughed understanding. Hervey was an interesting character. Two-sided, it was said. There was the feminine side and the masculine. He liked this to be said. It made him seem so interesting. Although he preferred perhaps the company of his men friends, he was, he wanted people to know, not without interest in women.

‘We must talk together sometime.’

Anne Vane opened her mouth and let her tongue appear between her white teeth.

‘Some say there is no time like the present,’ she said. ‘And do you say it?’

‘On this occasion most emphatically? And my lord?’ ‘Slightly less emphatically.’

‘I am sure I should know how to make you more emphatic.’

‘And my Lord Harrington?’

‘Is spending a few days in the country.’

‘That must make you very sad.’

She smiled and laid her hand on his arm.

Hervey found Anne Vane an interesting mistress; and the liaison became more intriguing when Harrington returned. Hervey had no wish to make it known that he was Anne’s lover. Stephen became so jealous and there was always someone to carry such news.

He did not know what Frederick’s reaction would be either, for he and Frederick were drawing closer together every day and the Prince was beginning to tire of the apothecary’s daughter.

To please the Prince he suggested they should write a play together, and this delighted Frederick. Of course, thought Hervey, I shall do all the work; but it was worth it to have people saying that he and the Prince were becoming inseparable.

The play was difficult to write for he had never tried his hand at playwriting before. It required a more sustained effort than the writing of verses or the notes he was accustomed to make in his journal. He had his doubts as to the virtue of the play, but Frederick was enthusiastic about it. Poor Fred! He had no literary taste!

When the play was finished Frederick insisted on sending it to Wilks, the actor-manager at Drury Lane.

‘He must put it on the stage,’ cried Frederick. ‘No one shall know who wrote it. The King and the Queen will come and admire it and then and only then shall they know that the son whom they despise has some talents.’

Hervey regarded the Prince tolerantly. Did he really think Wilks would put on their little piece if he didn’t know the Prince had had a hand in it. Didn’t he see that the only hope of its ever being on a stage was because his name went with it.

But one must placate royalty, which often meant deceiving it.

‘You, my lord, will know exactly how to manage this. I want to go to the theatre and see our play.’

‘Leave it with me,’ said Hervey.

This Frederick was pleased to do, being certain that in a short time he and his dear friend would be sitting in a box incognito watching the audience delight in their work.

‘This is not a play,’ cried Wilks scornfully.

‘I think you should put it on nevertheless,’ Hervey told him.

‘The audience wouldn’t sit through it.’

‘I still think you should put it on.’

‘There’s Court interest in this?’

Hervey nodded.

‘Well, I must let the audience know. They’ll not take it otherwise.’

‘Orders are secrecy. Put on the play first. Revelations will come after.’

‘I don’t like it,’ said Wilks. ‘Nor will the audience.’

Frederick and Hervey sat back in their box. The Prince’s eyes were shining with delighted anticipation as he surveyed the audience who had no notion who he was. Even Hervey had disguised his elegance with a big cloak.

‘I love the opening when the players come on to the stage one by one ...’ burbled Frederick.

‘Let us hope the audience do.’

The play began. Frederick watched enchanted, which was more than the audience did. Hervey was aware of their restiveness before Frederick was. They coughed; they shuffled their feet; they talked together and in less than ten minutes they were shouting for Wilks.

‘Take this off and put on a proper play,’ shouted someone from the pit.

Frederick sat back in his seat, his face white.

‘They ... they don’t like it....’

‘They don’t know it was our work,’ replied Hervey cynically. ‘They’re judging it by Gay’s standards ... not by those of royalty.’

‘They ... don’t ... like it!’ repeated Frederick stupidly.

The audience was more than restive; it was angry. Had they paid good money to see nonsense like this? When they compared this with the Beggar’s Opera or Henry VIII there was only one thing they could do.

Someone stood on his seat and shouted it.

‘Give us a play or our money back.’

‘Our money back! Our money back! ‘ screeched the audience.

Someone threw a mouldy orange on to the stage. It was a signal. Missiles were falling thick and fast until Wilks came to stand by the footlights. He held up his hand; there were jeers and catcalls, but Wilks was enough of a man of the theatre to know how to handle an audience.

‘Good people,’ he said, ‘I agree with you. This should never have been offered. You shall all have your money back and come tomorrow when we will have a good play to offer you.’

‘Hurrah! ‘ shouted someone.

Wilks was relieved; he had averted a riot and he had thought at one moment that his theatre was going to be destroyed.

Frederick and Hervey left the theatre crestfallen. Hervey had had a good opinion of his own work; as for Frederick he could not understand how what had seemed a work of genius in the privacy of his apartments could become banal verbose dialogues on a stage.

Although he would have been ready to claim his share of the credit had the play been a success, he now assured himself that the main work had been Hervey’s.

Hervey did not know it but Frederick, that night, began to look at his friend a little critically.

Hervey could not endure failure and during the next day had an attack of vertigo while he was waiting on the Queen.

He explained afterwards to Frederick that he had successfully hidden this from Her Majesty by gripping a table to steady himself until the attack had passed.

The fact was however brought home to him that he needed a rest. His medical adviser, Dr Cheyne, had suggested he retire to the country for a few weeks and there exist on a strict milk, seed, and vegetable diet. He was going to ask Stephen Fox to accompany him because his family were so healthy they did not understand illness; and Stephen was such a good nurse.

He trusted to be back with His Highness feeling well again in the shortest possible time.

Frederick said that his dear friend must of course go to the country; his health must be their first concern.