During the short sojourn between the bridal and the departure, the whole of the royal family went to Covent Garden Theatre to see Murphy’s decidedly dull and deservedly damned comedy, ‘No One’s Enemy but his Own’--a comedy which even Woodward could not make endurable. The feature of the night, however, was the difference which the public made between their reception of the King and Queen and that given to the newly-married pair. For the latter there was an ebullition of enthusiasm; for the former, who were suspected of being more cold to the bridegroom than his deserts warranted, little fervour was shown; and the then young Queen Charlotte was not a woman to love either bride or bridegroom the better for _that_. On the following night the same august party appeared at the Opera House. The multitude which endeavoured to gain access to the interior would have filled three such houses as that in the Haymarket. Ladies, hopeless of reaching the doors in their carriages, left them in Piccadilly, and, gathering up their hoops, attempted to make their way on foot or in sedans. So great were the concourse and confusion in the Haymarket that the gentlemen, to force a passage for these adventurous ladies and themselves, drew their swords and threatened direful things to all who stood between them and their boxes! In the meantime the house was overflowing; and Horace Walpole, who has faithfully painted the scene--except, perhaps, where he presumes to construe the politeness of the Prince into contempt for his royal brother and sister-in-law--tells us: ‘The crowd could not be described. The Duchess of Leeds, Lady Denbigh, Lady Scarborough, and others, sat in chairs between the scenes; the doors of the front boxes were thrown open, and the passages were all filled to the back of the stoves. Nay, women of fashion stood in the very stairs till eight at night. In the middle of the second act, the hereditary Prince, who sat with his wife and her brothers in their box, got up, _turned his back_ to King and Queen, pretending to offer his place to Lady Tankerville, and then to Lady Susan. You know enough of Germans and their stiffness to etiquette to be sure this could not be done inadvertently, especially as he repeated this, only without standing up, with one of his own gentlemen in the third act.’