At Covent Garden ‘Henry the Fifth,’ with the coronation, was acted twenty-six times; and ‘Richard the Third,’ with the same pageant, was played fourteen times. That exquisite hussey, Mrs. Bellamy, walked in the procession as the representative of the Queen. Their Majesties paid their first visit in state, on the 7th of January 1762. The King, with some recollection, probably, of his consort’s ‘bespeak’ at Drury Lane, commanded the ‘Merry Wives of Windsor.’ So that in this respect the new reign commenced merrily enough. It had its _bons mots_. When some persons expressed surprise at the Queen having named Lady Northumberland one of the ladies of her bedchamber, Lady Townshend said, ‘Quite right! the Queen knows no English. Lady Northumberland will teach her the vulgar tongue!’ CHAPTER II. COURT AND CITY. The _levée_--The King goes to parliament--The first night of the opera--Garrick grievously offended--The King and Queen present on the Lord Mayor’s Day--Entertained by Robert Barclay, the Quaker--Banquet at Guildhall to the King and Queen--Popular enthusiasm for Mr. Pitt--Buckingham House purchased by the King for Queen Charlotte--Defoe’s account of it--The Duke of Buckingham’s description of it--West and his pictures--The house demolished by George IV.--First illness of the King--Domestic life of the King and Queen--Royal carriage--Selwyn’s joke on the royal frugality--Prince Charles of Strelitz--Costume--Graceful action of the Queen--Birth of Prince George. The entire population seemed surprised at having got a young Queen and King to reign over them; and, except an occasional placard or two, denouncing ‘petticoat government,’ and pronouncing against Scotch ministers and Lord George Sackville, there seemed no dissatisfied voice in the whole metropolis. The graces of the young Sovereign were sung by pseudo-poets, and Walpole, in graceful prose, told of his surprise at seeing how completely the whole _levée_-room had lost its air of a lion’s den. ‘The Sovereign don’t stand in one spot, with his eyes fixed royally on the ground, and dropping bits of German news: he walks about and speaks to everybody. I saw him afterwards on the throne, where he is graceful and genteel; sits with dignity, and reads his answers to addresses well. It was the Cambridge address, carried by the Duke of Newcastle, in his doctor’s gown, and looking like the _Médecin malgré lui_. He had been vehemently solicitous for attendance, for fear my Lord Westmoreland, who vouchsafes himself to bring the address from Oxford, should out-number him. Lord Litchfield and several other Jacobites have kissed hands. George Selwyn says, “They go to St. James’s because now there are so many STUARTS there.”’