at all; for there was but one subject in it from beginning to end, and that was the passion which the author would call love.  There were lines too in it of the greatest coarseness, and at these he laughed the loudest.  He had a sharp bold face, of an extraordinary insolence; and he appeared to take the highest delight in the theme of his play—­(which he had written for the King’s Theatre a good while before)—­and which concerned nothing else but the love-adventures of two maids that had an over-youthful fop for a father.

When the play was over, and I going out to my little coach that I used, I found that the Duchess of Cleveland’s coach stopped the way, in spite of the others waiting behind, and Her Grace not come.  However there was nothing to be done:  and I waited.  Presently out they came, Sedley leading the way with great solemnity, who knocked against me as I stood there, and asked what the devil I did in his road.

I saluted them as ironically as I could; and begged his pardon.

“I had no idea, Sir Charles,” said I, “that the theatre and street were yours as well as the play.”

He looked at me as if he could not believe his ears; but my Lord Dorset who was just behind came up and took him by the arm.

“He is right,” he said.  “Mr. Mallock is quite right.  Beg his pardon, I tell you.”

“Why the devil—­” began Sir Charles again, still not recognizing me.

My Lord clapped him sharply on his hat, driving it over his eyes.

“He is blind now, Mr. Mallock,” he said, “in every sense.  You would not be angry with a blind man!”

When Sir Charles had got his hat straight again he was now angry with my Lord Dorset, and very friendly and apologetic to myself, whom I suppose he had remembered by now; so the two drove away presently, after the ladies, still disputing loudly.  But I think my Lord’s behaviour shewed me more than ever that I was become a person of some consequence.  Yet this kind of manners, in the midst of the crowd, though it commended gentlemen as well known as were those two—­to the ruder elements among the spectators, who laughed and shouted—­did a great deal of harm in those days to the Court and the King, among the more serious and sober persons of the country; and it is these who, in the long run, always have the ordering of things.  God knows I would not live in a puritanical country if I could help it; yet decent breeding is surely due from gentlemen.

* * * * *

A week or two later I was at a levee in Her Majesty’s apartments; and had a clearer sight than ever of the relations between the King and Queen.