t, I know not what fatality obstructed the
pretensions of the other. The duke was very urgent with the duchess to
put Lady Denham in possession of the place which was the object of her
ambition; but as she was not guarantee for the performance of the
secret articles of the treaty, though till this time she had borne with
patience the inconstancy of the duke, and yielded submissively to
his desires; yet, in the present instance, it appeared hard and
dishonourable to her, to entertain near her person, a rival, who would
expose her to the danger of acting but a second part in the midst of her
own court. However, she saw herself upon the point of being forced to it
by authority, when a far more unfortunate obstacle for ever bereft poor
Lady Denham of the hopes of possessing that fatal place, which she had
solicited with such eagerness.

Old Denham, naturally jealous, became more and more suspicious, and
found that he had sufficient ground for such conduct: his wife was
young and handsome, he old and disagreeable: what reason then had he to
flatter himself that Heaven would exempt him from the fate of husbands
in the like circumstances? This he was continually saying to himself;
but when compliments were poured in upon him from all sides, upon the
place his lady was going to have near the duchess's person, he formed
ideas of what was sufficient to have made him hang himself, if he had
possessed the resolution. The traitor chose rather to exercise his
courage against another. He wanted precedents for putting in practice
his resentments in a privileged country: that of Lord Chesterfield was
not sufficiently bitter for the revenge he meditated: besides, he had no
country-house to which he could carry his unfortunate wife. This being
the case, the old villain made her travel a much longer journey without
stirring out of London. Merciless fate robbed her of life, and of her
dearest hopes, in the bloom of youth.

As no person entertained any doubt of his having poisoned her, the
populace of his neighbourhood had a design of tearing him 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.

[The lampoons of the day, some of which are to be found in Andrew
Marvell's Works, more than insinuate that she was deprived of life
by a mixt