for his harangues; for they
generally sat down to dinner at four o'clock, and only rose just in time
for the play in the evening.
The Duke of Buckingham, whose ears were continually deafened with
descriptions of Lady Shrewsbury's merits, resolved at last to examine
into the truth of the matter himself. As soon as he had made the
experiment, he was satisfied; and, though he fancied that fame did not
exceed the truth, yet this intrigue began in such a manner, that it
was generally believed its duration would be short, considering, the
fickleness of both parties, and the vivacity with which they had engaged
in it: nevertheless, no amour in England ever continued so long.
The imprudent Killegrew, who could not be satisfied without rivals, was
obliged, in the end, to be satisfied without a mistress. This he bore
very impatiently; but so far was Lady Shrewsbury from hearkening to, or
affording any redress for the grievances at first complained of, that
she pretended even not to know him. His spirit could not brook such
treatment; and without ever considering that he was the author of
his own disgrace, he let loose all his abusive eloquence against her
ladyship: he attacked her with the most bitter invectives from head to
foot: he drew a frightful picture of her conduct; and turned all her
personal charms, which he used to extol, into defects. He was privately
warned of the inconveniences to which these declamations might subject
him, but despised the advice, and, persisting, he soon had reason to
repent it.
As he was returning one evening from the Duke of York's apartments at
St. James's, three passes with a sword were made at him through his
chair, one of which went entirely through his arm. Upon this, he was
sensible of the danger to which his intemperate tongue had exposed him,
over and above the loss of his mistress. The assassins made their escape
across the Park, not doubting but they had dispatched him.
Killegrew thought that all complaints would be useless; for what redress
from justice could he expect for an attempt of which his wounds were
his only evidence? And, besides, he was convinced that if he began
a prosecution founded upon appearances and conjectures, the parties
concerned would take the shortest and most effectual means to put a stop
to all inquiries upon the subject, and that their second attempt would
not prove ineffectual. Being desirous, therefore, of deserving mercy
from those who had endeavo
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