ere especially excellent, and declared entertaining to a rare
degree. Pepys, who witnessed her acting "a comical part," in the "Maiden
Queen," a play by Dryden, says he could "never hope to see the like
done again by man or woman. So great performance of a comical part," he
continues, "was never, I believe, in the world before as Nell do this,
both as a mad girle, then most and best of all when she comes in like
a young gallant; and hath the motions and carriage of a spark the most
that ever I saw any man have. It makes me, I confess, admire her."
In the part of Valeria, in "Tyrannic Love," she was also pronounced
inimitable; especially in her delivery of the epilogue. The vein of
comedy with which she delivered the opening lines, addressed to those
about to bear her dead body from the stage, was merry beyond belief.
"Hold!" she cried out to one of them, as she suddenly started to life--

"Hold! are you mad? you damned confounded dog!
I am to rise and speak the epilogue."

Before the year 1667 ended, she had several times visited his majesty
at Whitehall. The king was now no less assured of her charms as a woman,
than he had previously been convinced of her excellence as an actress.
In due time, her intimacy with the monarch resulted in the birth of two
sons; the elder of which was created Duke of St. Albans, from whom is
descended the family now bearing that title: the second died young and
unmarried.

Through influence of these women, my Lady Castlemaine's power over the
king rapidly diminished, and at last ceased to exist; seeing which, as
Burnet says, "She abandoned herself to great disorders; one of which
by the artifice of the Duke of Buckingham was discovered by the king in
person, the party concerned leaping out of the window." The gallant to
whom the worthy bishop refers was John Churchill, afterwards the great
Duke of Marlborough, at this time a handsome stripling of eighteen
summers. In his office as page to the Duke of York, he frequently came
under notice of her ladyship, who, pleased with the charms of his
boyish face and graceful figure, intimated his love would not prove
unacceptable to her. Accordingly he promptly made love to the countess,
who, in the first fervour of her affection, presented him with five
thousand pounds. With this sum he purchased a life annuity of five
hundred pounds, which, as Lord Chesterfield writes, "became the
foundation of his subsequent fortune." Nor did her generosi