"His Highness," he said to Whitelocke, "is a sick man, and these vigils by the Lady Elisabeth will wear him to a great disease."
That summer was notable for the fierceness of the heat: day by day the sun beat down without either rain or cloud, night after night the stars shone with unveiled brilliance; then towards the beginning of August a light wind blew for several days and cooled the air. Elisabeth Claypole seemed to rally a little as the great heat was relieved, and His Highness, who had left business for several days lately to watch by her, thought it safe to return to London, where the French notables were still being entertained.
On Friday the 6th of August he came back to Hampton Court; he came in a coach, for, having lately been flung from his carriage, he was too shaken to ride on horseback. That day he had been more than usually cheerful; he had even smiled at the reports from France: tales of how his Ironsides (oh, irony!), now fighting there side by side with the followers of the Scarlet Lady, had given their General trouble by their behaviour in the churches of the idolaters, one lighting his pipe from the candle on the high altar. Then he heard how Mr. Hugh Peters had endeavoured to make long sermons before the magnificent Cardinal, hoping to convert him from his deep errors.
At the name of Mr. Hugh Peters His Highness smiled no more; it recalled to him strangely that winter morning in Whitehall when he had paced the boarded gallery in sick agitation, and Hugh Peters, in his black clothes, had gone out to the scaffold and helped knock a staple in and hurried to and fro in enthusiastic excitement.... It seemed so long ago ... and now this same Hugh Peters was arguing with Cardinal Mazarin, and the young King of France was sending him a rich sword with a jewelled hilt ... a King who was the nephew of that other King who had knelt down at the block that January morning.
His Highness did not set much store by this costly sword: his victories had been won with plainer weapons.
While he was in his coach, hastening towards Hampton, he took from his pocket a pamphlet which was then making much stir in England. The title was Killing no Murder, and it set forth with much eloquence that any murderer of Oliver Cromwell would be justified by God and man.
His Highness read the paper from beginning to end, then put it back in his pocket.
"There is no notice to be taken of such things," said John Thurloe, who sat opposite him.
"It is no matter one way or another," answered His Highness; and he took from his bosom a small Bible and gave it to Thurloe and asked him to read from it aloud, "For," he said, "I feel my eyes tired."