He had a laboratory there." This latter house, which can be seen in
its eighteenth-century guise in Hogarth's print of "Morning," in _The Four
Hours of the Day_ set, is now the quarters of the National Sporting Club.
There he worked and talked and entertained, made his metheglin and _aqua
vitae_ and other messes, till his last illness in 1665. Paris as ever
attracted him; and in France were good doctors for his disease, the stone.
He had himself borne on a litter to the coast; but feeling death's hand on
him, he turned his face homeward again, and died in Covent Garden, June 11,
1665. In his will he desired to be buried by his beautiful Venetia in
Christ Church, Newgate, and that no mention should be made of him on the
tomb, where he had engraved four Latin inscriptions to her memory. But
Ferrar wrote an epitaph for him:--
"Under this tomb the matchless Digby lies,
Digby the great, the valiant, and the wise," etc.
The Great Fire destroyed the tomb, and scattered their ashes.
He had died poor; and his surviving son John, with whom he had been on bad
terms, declared that all the property that came to him was his father's
sumptuously compiled history of the Digby family.
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