is a grievous consideration; and so home, and there cozen Roger and Creed to dinner with me, and very merry:—­but among other things they told me of the strange, bold sermon of Dr. Creeton yesterday, before the King; how he preached against the sins of the Court, and particularly against adultery, over and over instancing how for that single sin in David, the whole nation was undone; and of our negligence in having our castles without ammunition and powder when the Dutch come upon us; and how we have no courage now a-days, but let our ships be taken out of our harbour.  Here Creed did tell us the story of the dwell last night, in Coventgarden, between Sir H. Bellasses and Tom Porter.  It is worth remembering the silliness of the quarrell, and is a kind of emblem of the general complexion of this whole kingdom at present.  They two it seems dined yesterday at Sir Robert Carr’s, where it seems people do drink high, all that come.  It happened that these two, the greatest friends in the world, were talking together:  and Sir H. Bellasses talked a little louder than ordinary to Tom Porter, giving of him some advice.  Some of the company standing by said, “What! are they quarrelling, that they talk so high?” Sir H. Bellasses hearing it, said, “No!” says he:  “I would have you know that I never quarrel, but I strike; and take that as a rule of mine!”—­“How?” says Tom Porter, “strike!  I would I could see the man in England that durst give me a blow!” with that Sir H. Bellasses did give him a box of the eare; and so they were going to fight there, but were hindered.  And by and by Tom Porter went out; and meeting Dryden the poet, told him of the business, and that he was resolved to fight Sir H. Bellasses presently; for he knew, if he did not, they should be made friends to-morrow, and then the blow would rest upon him; which he would prevent, and desired Dryden to let him have his boy to bring him notice which way Sir H. Bellasses goes.  By and by he is informed that Sir H. Bellasses’s coach was coming:  so Tom Porter went down out of the Coffee-house where he stayed for the tidings, and stopped the coach, and bade Sir H. Bellasses come out.  “Why,” says H. Bellasses, “you will not hurt me coming out, will you?”—­“No,” says Tom Porter.  So out he went, and both drew:  and H. Bellasses having drawn and flung away his scabbard, Tom Porter asked him whether he was ready?  The other answering him he was, they fell to fight, some of their acquaintance by.  They wounded one another, and H. Bellasses so much that it is feared he will die:  and finding himself severely wounded, he called to Tom Porter, and kissed him, and bade him shift for himself; “for,” says he, “Tom, thou hast hurt me; but I will make shift to stand upon my legs till thou mayest withdraw, and the world not take notice of you, for I would not have thee troubled for what thou hast done.”  And so whether he did fly or no I cannot tell:  but Tom Porter shewed H. Bellasses that he was wounded too:  and