hopes. Be it as it may, his plots now tended to open insurrection. In
1666, a proclamation had been issued for his apprehension--he having
then absconded. On this occasion he was saved by the act of one whom he
had injured grossly--his wife. She managed to outride the
serjeant-at-arms, and to warn him of his danger. She had borne his
infidelities, after the fashion of the day, as a matter of course:
jealousy was then an impertinence--constancy, a chimera; and her
husband, whatever his conduct, had ever treated her with kindness of
manner; he had that charm, that attribute of his family, in perfection,
and it had fascinated Mary Fairfax.

He fled, and played for a year successfully the pranks of his youth. At
last, worn out, he talked of giving himself up to justice. 'Mr. Fenn, at
the table, says that he hath been taken by the watch two or three times
of late, at unseasonable hours, but so disguised they did not know him;
and when I come home, by and by, Mr. Lowther tells me that the Duke of
Buckingham do dine publickly this day at Wadlow's, at the Sun Tavern;
and is mighty merry, and sent word to the Lieutenant of the Tower, that
he would come to him as soon as he dined.' So Pepys states.

Whilst in the Tower--to which he was again committed--Buckingham's
pardon was solicited by Lady Castlemaine; on which account the king was
very angry with her; called her a meddling 'jade;' she calling him
'fool,' and saying if he was not a fool he never would suffer his best
subjects to be imprisoned--referring to Buckingham. And not only did she
ask his liberty, but the restitution of his places. No wonder there was
discontent when such things were done, and public affairs were in such a
state. We must again quote the graphic, terse language of Pepys:--'It
was computed that the Parliament had given the king for this war only,
besides all prizes, and besides the £200,000 which he was to spend of