The bill passed the commons without much opposition; but in the upper house the duke moved, that an exception might be admitted in his favor.

With great earnestness, and even with tears in his eyes, he told them that he was now to cast himself on their kindness, in the greatest concern which he could have in the world; and he protested, that, whatever his religion might be, it should only be a private thing between God and his own soul, and never should appear in his public conduct.

Notwithstanding this strong effort, in so important a point, he prevailed only by two voices: a sufficient indication of the general disposition of the people.

"I would not have," said a noble peer, in the debate on this bill, "so much as a Popish man or a Popish woman to remain here; not so much as a Popish dog or a Popish bitch; not so much as a Popish cat to pur or mew about the king." What is more extraordinary, this speech met with praise and approbation.
Encouraged by this general fury, the witnesses went still a step farther in their accusations; and though both Oates and Bedloe had often declared, that there was no other person of distinction whom they knew to be concerned in the plot, they were now so audacious as to accuse the queen herself of entering into the design against the life of her husband.

The commons, in an address to the king, gave countenance to this scandalous accusation; but the lords would not be prevailed with to join in the address.