17th.  Up, and all the morning at the office, where we sat, and my head was full of the business of Carcasse, who hath a hearing this morning before the Council and hath summonsed at least thirty persons, and which is wondrous, a great many of them, I hear, do declare more against him than for him, and yet he summonses people without distinction.  Sure he is distracted.  At noon home to dinner, and presently my wife and I and Sir W. Pen to the King’s playhouse, where the house extraordinary full; and there was the King and Duke of York to see the new play, “Queen Elizabeth’s Troubles and the History of Eighty Eight.”  I confess I have sucked in so much of the sad story of Queen Elizabeth, from my cradle, that I was ready to weep for her sometimes; but the play is the most ridiculous that sure ever come upon the stage; and, indeed, is merely a shew, only shews the true garbe of the Queen in those days, just as we see Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth painted; but the play is merely a puppet play, acted by living puppets.  Neither the design nor language better; and one stands by and tells us the meaning of things:  only I was pleased to see Knipp dance among the milkmaids, and to hear her sing a song to Queen Elizabeth; and to see her come out in her night-gowne with no lockes on, but her bare face and hair only tied up in a knot behind; which is the comeliest dress that ever I saw her in to her advantage.  Thence home and went as far as Mile End with Sir W. Pen, whose coach took him up there for his country-house; and after having drunk there, at the Rose and Crowne, a good house for Alderman Bides ale,—­[John Bide, brewer, Sheriff of London in 1647.—­B.]—­we parted, and we home, and there I finished my letters, and then home to supper and to bed.

18th (Lord’s day).  Up, and being ready, walked up and down to Cree Church, to see it how it is; but I find no alteration there, as they say there was, for my Lord Mayor and Aldermen to come to sermon, as they do every Sunday, as they did formerly to Paul’s.  Walk back home and to our own church, where a dull sermon and our church empty of the best sort of people, they being at their country houses, and so home, and there dined with me Mr. Turner and his daughter Betty.

[Betty Turner, who is frequently mentioned after this date, appears to have been a daughter of Serjeant John Turner and his wife Jane, and younger sister of Theophila Turner (see January 4th, 6th, 1668-69).]

Her mother should, but they were invited to Sir J. Minnes, where she dined and the others here with me.  Betty is grown a fine lady as to carriage and discourse.  I and my wife are mightily pleased with her.  We had a good haunch of venison, powdered and boiled, and a good dinner and merry.  After dinner comes Mr. Pelling the Potticary, whom I had sent for to dine with me, but he was engaged.  After sitting an hour to talk we broke up, all leaving Pelling to talk with my wife, and I walked towards White Hall, but,