by an important reinforcement. Richard Talbot, Earl of Tyrconnel,
the fiercest and most uncompromising of all those who hated the
liberties and religion of England, arrived at court from Dublin.

Talbot was descended from an old Norman family which had been
long settled in Leinster, which had there sunk into degeneracy,
which had adopted the manners of the Celts, which had, like the
Celts, adhered to the old religion, and which had taken part with
the Celts in the rebellion of 1641. In his youth he had been one
of the most noted sharpers and bullies of London. He had been
introduced to Charles and James when they were exiles in
Flanders, as a man fit and ready for the infamous service of
assassinating the Protector. Soon after the Restoration, Talbot
attempted to obtain the favour of the royal family by a service
more infamous still. A plea was wanted which might justify the
Duke of York in breaking that promise of marriage by which he had
obtained from Anne Hyde the last proof of female affection. Such
a plea Talbot, in concert with some of his dissolute companions,
undertook to furnish. They agreed to describe the poor young lady
as a creature without virtue, shame, or delicacy, and made up
long romances about tender interviews and stolen favours. Talbot
in particular related how, in one of his secret visits to her, he
had unluckily overturned the Chancellor's inkstand upon a pile of
papers, and how cleverly she had averted a discovery by laying
the blame of the accident on her monkey. These stories, which, if
they had been true, would never have passed the lips of any but
the basest of mankind, were pure inventions. Talbot was soon
forced to own that they were so; and he owned it without a blush.
The injured lady became Duchess of York. Had her husband been a
man really upright and honourable, he would have driven from his