s, he secretly arrived at Portsmouth at the same time
with the duke, and watched for an opportunity of effecting his bloody
purpose.

* May's Hist. of the Parliament, p. 12.

Buckingham had been engaged in conversation with Soubize and other
French gentlemen; and a difference of sentiment having arisen, the
dispute, though conducted with temper and decency, had produced some of
those vehement gesticulations and lively exertions of voice, in which
that nation, more than the English, are apt to indulge themselves. The
conversation being finished, the duke drew towards the door; and in that
passage, turning himself to speak to Sir Thomas Friar, a colonel in the
army, he was on the sudden, over Sir Thomas's shoulder, struck upon the
breast with a knife. Without uttering other words than, "The villain has
killed me," in the same moment pulling out the knife, he breathed his
last.

No man had seen the blow, nor the person who gave it, but in the
confusion every one made his own conjecture; and all agreed that the
murder had been committed by the French gentlemen whose angry tone of
voice had been heard, while their words had not been understood by the
bystanders. In the hurry of revenge, they had instantly been put to
death, had they not been saved by some of more temper and judgment,
who, though they had the same opinion of their guilt, thought proper to
reserve them for a judicial trial and examination.

Near the door there was found a hat, in the inside of which was sewed a
paper, containing four or five lines of that remonstrance of the commons
which declared Buckingham an enemy to the kingdom; and under these lines
was a short ejaculation, or attempt towards a prayer. It was easily
concluded that this hat belonged to the assassin: but the difficulty
still remained, who that person should be; for the writing discovered
not the same; and whoever he was, it was natural to believe that he had
already fled far enough not to be found without a hat.

In this hurry, a man without a hat was seen walking very composedly
before the door. One crying out, "Here is the fellow who killed the
duke;" every body ran to ask, "Which is he?" The man very sedately
answered, "I am he." The more furious immediately rushed upon him with
drawn swords: others, more deliberate, defended and protected him: he
himself, with open arms, calmly and cheerfully exposed his breast to the
swords of the most enraged; being willing to fall a sudden