ny
thing of this kind done, his kindness being soon forgot.

But prior to this affair of Monmouth and Argyle, one tyrant was cut off
to make way for another. But as the death of king Charles II. is related
by so many historians, it were needless to relate the whole affair here:
only the following circumstances seem more full and somewhat different
from the accounts of the most part of writers in that period. The king's
harlot, the Duchess of Portsmouth, (for so we may call her) being by the
Duke of York's direction to give the king a treat on Sabbath night, and
being by him stored with wines, especially Claret, which the king loved;
after he was drunk, they bribed his coffee-man to put a dose of poison
in his coffee, and then advised the Duchess to keep him all night; and
likewise knowing that when he first awaked in the morning, he usually
called for his snuff, they hired the Duchess's chambermaid to put
poisoned snuff into his box. Accordingly having drunk the coffee at
night, in the morning he awoke, and cried out he was deadly sick, and
called for his box and took a deal of it. Then growing worse, he called
for his servant to put on his cloaths; which doing, he staggered and got
to the window, and leaning on it, cried, I am gone, I am poisoned, have
me to my chamber. The Duke getting notice, came running undrest to
lament his fate, saying, Alas, Sir! what is the matter? To whom he
answered, O you know too well; and was in a passion at him. In the mean
time he called for an antidote against poison he had got from a German
mountebank; but that could not be found, being taken out of the way:
neither was his physician to be got being as was thought out of town.
All things failing, he being so enraged, made at his brother. But all
entries being secured, in the mean time the duke seeing him so enraged,
and that the poison was not likely soon to do his turn, set four
ruffians on him, which made him cry out; but they soon choked him with
his cravat, and beat him instantly on the head, so that he died. It is
said, his head swelled bigger than two heads, and his body stunk, so
that they were obliged to take him out in the night, and bury him
_incognito_[263].

But to return; after the defeat of Monmouth and Argyle, Mr. Vetch was
obliged to lurk for some time in a wood near Newcastle, until the storm
was a little calmed: and then he ventured to Newcastle, to see his wife
and family, where he met with some of his Scots relatio