heelers believe it or if you like don't believe it

MY FAVOURITE KING OF ENGLAND

It was the pearlescent Spring morning of Tuesday 6th February in the year of grace 1685.

King Charles the Second opened his eyes and sat up.
He was on his death bed.
Around the bed stood his Protestant courtiers, princes and friends.
In the antechamber, his mistress Nell Gwynn sobbed (possibly into an orange).
King Charles the Second spoke clearly for the first time in days: "Get me a priest."
There was a kerfufflous murmuring from the attendants.
"His Majesty means a Minister," explained his physician.
King Charles spoke again more strongly.
"I mean a Catholic priest," he said with something of his old regal force. "I wish to confess my sins and make peace with God. Oh come on. You must have known. When I reopened the theatres. When I permitted the bawdy comedies after years of puritan censure. When I consorted with pretty witty Nell. You must have known. I was a Catholic all along."
And that gentle travellers of the internet is pretty much what happened.
Believe it, or, if you like, don't believe it.