find fault with the actors, that they were out of humour, and had not
their parts perfect, and that Harris did do nothing, nor could so much
as sing a ketch in it; and so was mightily concerned, while all the rest
did, through the whole pit, blame the play as a silly, dull thing,
though there was something very roguish and witty; but the design of the
play, and end, mighty insipid.'

Buckingham had held out to his Puritan friends the hope of his
conversion for some years; and when they attempted to convert him, he
had appointed a time for them to finish their work. They kept their
promise, and discovered him in the most profligate society. It was
indeed impossible to know in what directions his fancies might take him,
when we find him believing in the predictions of a poor fellow in a
wretched lodging near Tower Hill, who, having cast his nativity, assured
the duke he would be king.

He had continued for years to live with the Countess of Shrewsbury, and
two months after her husband's death, had taken her to his home. Then,
at last, the Duchess of Buckingham indignantly observed, that she and
the countess could not possibly live together. 'So I thought, madam,'
was the reply. 'I have therefore ordered your coach to take you to your
father's.' It has been asserted that Dr. Sprat, the duke's chaplain,
actually married him to Lady Shrewsbury, and that his legal wife was
thenceforth styled 'The Duchess-dowager.'

He retreated with his mistress to Claverdon, near Windsor, situated on
the summit of a hill which is washed by the Thames. It is a noble
building, with a great terrace in front, under which are twenty-six
niches, in which Buckingham had intended to place twenty-six statues as
large as life; and in the middle is an alcove with stairs. Here he lived