And among the rest, here was the Duke of Buckingham
to-day openly in the pit; and there I found him with my Lord Buckhurst,
and Sedley, and Etheridge the poet, the last of whom I did hear mightily
find fault with the actors, that they were out of humour, and had not
their parts perfect, and that Harris did do nothing, nor could so much
as sing a ketch in it; and so was mightily concerned, while all the rest
did, through the whole pit, blame the play as a silly, dull thing,
though there was something very roguish and witty; but the design of the
play, and end, mighty insipid.'
Buckingham had held out to his Puritan friends the hope of his
conversion for some years; and when they attempted to convert him, he
had appointed a time for them to finish their work. They kept their
promise, and discovered him in the most profligate society. It was
indeed impossible to know in what directions his fancies might take him,
when we find him believing in the predictions of a poor fellow in a
wretched lodging near Tower Hill, who, having cast his nativity, assured
the duke he would be king.
He had continued for years to live with the Countess of Shrewsbury, and
two months after her husband's death, had taken her to his home.
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