My Lord Danby, I think it was, questioned him a good deal, as well as
others: and he repeated the same tale with great fluency, with many
gibes and aphorisms such as that the Jesuits had laid a wager that if
Carolus Rex would not become R.C.--which is Roman Catholic--he should
not much longer remain C.R. He said too that he had been reconciled to
the Church on Ash Wednesday of last year; but that "he took God and His
holy angels to witness that he had never changed the religion in his
heart," but that it was all a pretence to spy out Papistical plots.

His Royal Highness broke out, when he had done, declaring the whole
matter a bundle of lies; and when one or two asked Oates for any
writings or letters that he had--since he had been so long amongst the
Jesuits, and was so much trusted by them--he said that he had none; but
could get them easily enough if warrants and officers were given him. I
suppose the truth was that he had not wit enough to write them as yet,
but had thought the Windsor letters (as I may call them) would be
enough. (These questions had also been put to him on the day before, but
were repeated now for the King's benefit.)

His Majesty himself, I think, proved the shrewdest examiner of them all.

"You said that you met Don Juan, the Spaniard, in your travels, Doctor
Oates. Pray, what is he like in face and figure?"

"My Lard--Your Majesty," said Oates, "he is a tall black thin faylow,
with swatthy features"--(for so he pronounced his words.)

"Eh?" asked the King.

Dr. Oates repeated his words; and the King turned, nodding and smiling,