Grace's gentleman's gentleman, who was fond of Court life and found the
country tiresome, and whose habit it was to spend an occasional evening
at the Plough Horse for the pleasure of having even an audience of
yokels; liking it the better since, being yokels, they would listen
open-mouthed and staring by the hour to his swagger and stories of
Whitehall and Hampton Court, and the many beauties who surrounded the
sacred person of his most gracious Majesty, King Charles the Second.
Every yokel in the country had heard rumours of these ladies, but Mr.
Mount gave those at Camylott village details which were often true and
always picturesque.

"What could be expected," he would say, "of a man who had lived in gay
exile through his first years, and then of a sudden was made a King,
and had all the beauties of England kneeling before him--and he with a
squat, black, long-toothed Portugee fastened to him for a wife? And
Mistress Barbara Palmer at him from his first landing on English soil
to be restored--she that was made my Lady Castlemaine."

And then he would relate stories of this beauteous fury, and her
tempestuous quarrels with the King, and of how 'twas known his ease and
pleasure-loving nature stood in terror of her violence and gave way
before it with bribes and promises through sheer weariness.

"'Tis not that he loves her best," said Mr. Mount, snuff-taking in
graceful Court fashion, "for he hath loved a dozen since; but she is a
shrew, and can rave and bluster at him till he would hang her with
jewels, and give her his crown itself to quieten her furies. 'Tis the
pretty orange wench and actor woman Nell Gwynne who will please him
longest, for she is a good-humoured baggage and witty, and gives him
rest."