Here's to the greatest monarch England ever saw; here's
to the Englishman that made a kingdom of her. Our great king came from
Huntingdon, not Hanover; our fathers didn't look for a Dutchman to rule
us. Let him come and we'll keep him, and we'll show him Whitehall. If he's
a traitor let us have him here to deal with him; and then there are
spirits here as great as any that have gone before. There are men here
that can look at danger in the face and not be frightened at it. Traitor,
treason! what names are these to scare you and me? Are all Oliver's men
dead, or his glorious name forgotten in fifty years? Are there no men
equal to him, think you, as good--aye, as good? God save the king! and, if
the monarchy fails us, God save the British republic!"

He filled another great bumper, and tossed it up and drained it wildly,
just as the noise of rapid carriage-wheels approaching was stopped at our
door, and after a hurried knock and a moment's interval, Mr. Swift came
into the hall, ran upstairs to the room we were dining in, and entered it
with a perturbed face. St. John, excited with drink, was making some wild
quotation out of _Macbeth_, but Swift stopped him.

"Drink no more, my lord, for God's sake," says he, "I come with the most
dreadful news."

"Is the queen dead?" cries out Bolingbroke, seizing on a water-glass.

"No, Duke Hamilton is dead, he was murdered an hour ago by Mohun and
Macartney; they had a quarrel this morning; they gave him not so much time
as to write a letter. He went for a couple of his friends, and he is dead,
and Mohun, too, the bloody villain, who was set on him. They fought in
Hyde Park just before sunset; the duke killed Mohun, and Macartney came up
and stabbed him, and the dog is fled. I have your chariot below; send to
every part of the country and apprehend that villain; come to the duke's
house and see if any life be left in him."

"O Beatrix, Beatrix," thought Esmond, "and here ends my poor girl's
ambition!"

Chapter VI. Poor Beatrix

There had been no need to urge upon Esmond the necessity of a separation
between him and Beatrix: Fate had done that completely; and I think from
the very moment poor Beatrix had accepted the duke's offer, she began to
assume the majestic air of a duchess, nay, queen elect, and to carry
herself as one sacred and removed from us common people. Her mother and
kinsman both fell into her ways, the latter scornfully perhaps, and
uttering his usual gib