days after all was in the dust."[1] The fatal termination of this Sunday scene was even more sudden than Evelyn has described. The revels extended over Sunday night until the next morning. At eight of that same morning the King swooned away in his chair, and lay for nearly two hours in a state of apoplexy, all his physicians despairing of his recovery. He rallied for a time, regained possession of his intellects, and died, on the following Friday, sensible of his sins, and seeking forgiveness from his Maker. His end was that of a man, never repining that it was so sudden; and his good-nature was exhibited on his death-bed in a thousand particulars. He sought pardon from his queen, forgiveness from his brother, and the excuses of those who stood watching about his bed. What his last words were, is I believe unknown; but his dying requests made to his brother and successor, concluded with "Let not poor Nelly starve;"[2] a recommendation, says Fox, in his famous introductory chapter, that is much to his honour.
That Charles II. was poisoned was the belief of many at the time. It was the fashion in that as in the preceding age, to attribute the sudden death of
