ered, this
amour covered her, but openly declared she would "not be his mistress,
as Mrs. Price, to go up and down the privy stairs, but will be owned
publicly;" and in this respect she obtained her desire. Meanwhile Sir
John was rendered miserable; and, indeed, his desperation soon overthrew
his reason, and rendered him a lunatic. This affection first appeared
during a journey he made to the famous free-stone quarries near Portland
in Dorset. When he came within a mile of his destination, he suddenly
turned back, and proceeded to Hounslow, where he demanded rents for
lands he had disposed of years before; and then hastening to town sought
out the king and informed him he was the Holy Ghost.

This madness lasted but a short time; and the first use he made of his
recovered senses was to plot vengeance on his wife. Now there was one
honour which she coveted above all others, that of being appointed a
lady of the bedchamber to the Duchess of York. This her royal lover,
following the example of his majesty, sought to obtain for her; but
the duchess, who had already suffered many indignities by reason of her
husband's improprieties, refused him this request, which would render
her liable to continual insult in her own court. The duke, however,
had a strong will, and the duchess was on the point of yielding to his
demand, when rumour announced that Lady Denham had been taken suddenly
ill, and scandal declared she had been poisoned. The wildest sensation
followed. His royal highness, stricken with remorse and terror, hastened
to Scotland Yard and sought his beloved mistress, who told him she
believed herself poisoned, and felt she was now dying. The most eminent
physicians were speedily summoned, but their skill proved of no avail,
for she gradually became worse, and finally died, leaving instructions
that her body should be opened after death, in order that search might
be made for the fatal drug.

The surgeons followed these directions, as we learn from the Orrery
state papers, but no trace of poison was discovered. For all that the
public had no doubt her husband had destroyed her life, and Hamilton
tells us the populace "had a design of tearing Sir John in pieces as
soon as he should come abroad; but he shut himself up to bewail her
death, until their fury was appeased by a magnificent funeral, at which
he distributed four times more burnt wine than had ever been drunk at
any burial in England."

As for the duke, he was