Left alone, but in a good humour that the Duke's last jest could not embitter, I stood watching the scene. The play had begun now on a stage at the end of the hall, but nobody seemed to heed it. They walked to and fro, talking always, ogling, quarrelling, love-making, and intriguing. I caught sight here of great ladies, there of beauties whose faces were their fortune—or their ruin, which you will. Buckingham went by, fine as a galley in full sail. The Duke of York passed with Mr Hudleston; my salute went unacknowledged. Clifford came soon after; he bowed slightly when I bowed to him, but his heartiness was gone. A moment later Darrell was by my side; his ill-humour was over, but he lifted his hands in comical despair.
"Simon, Simon, you're hard to help," said he. "Alas, I must go to Dover without you, my friend! Couldn't you restrain your tongue?"
"My tongue has done me no great harm," said I, "and you needn't go to Dover alone."
"What?" he cried, amazed.
"Unless the Duke of Monmouth and my Lord Arlington travel apart."
"The Duke of Monmouth? What have you to do with him?"
"I am to enter his service," I answered proudly; "and, moreover, I'm to go with him to Dover to meet Madame d'Orléans."
"Why, why? How comes this? How were you brought to his notice?"
I looked at him, wondering at his eagerness. Then I took him by the arm, and I said laughingly:
"Come, I am teachable, and I have learnt my lesson."