[Clarendon refers to this scene in the continuation of his Life (ed. 1827, vol. iii., p. 291), and Lister writes:  “Lady Castlemaine rose hastily from her noontide bed, and came out into her aviary, anxious to read in the saddened air of her distinguished enemy some presage of his fall” ("Life of Clarendon,” vol. ii., p. 412).]

28th.  Up; and staid undressed till my tailor’s boy did mend my vest, in order to my going to the christening anon.  Then out and to White Hall, to attend the Council, by their order, with an answer to their demands touching our advice for the paying off of the seamen, when the ships shall come in, which answer is worth seeing, shewing the badness of our condition.  There, when I come, I was forced to stay till past twelve o’clock, in a crowd of people in the lobby, expecting the hearing of the great cause of Alderman Barker against my Lord Deputy of Ireland, for his ill usage in his business of land there; but the King and Council sat so long, as they neither heard them nor me.  So when they rose, I into the House, and saw the King and Queen at dinner, and heard a little of their viallins’ musick, and so home, and there to dinner, and in the afternoon with my Lady Batten, Pen, and her daughter, and my wife, to Mrs. Poole’s, where I mighty merry among the women, and christened the child, a girl, Elizabeth, which, though a girl, yet my Lady Batten would have me to give the name.  After christening comes Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Pen, and Mr. Lowther, and mighty merry there, and I forfeited for not kissing the two godmothers presently after the christening, before I kissed the mother, which made good mirth; and so anon away, and my wife and I took coach and went twice round Bartholomew fayre; which I was glad to see again, after two years missing it by the plague, and so home and to my chamber a little, and so to supper and to bed.

29th.  Up, and Mr. Moore comes to me, and among other things tells me that my Lord Crew and his friends take it very ill of me that my Lord Sandwich’s sea-fee should be retrenched, and so reported from this Office, and I give them no notice of it.  The thing, though I know to be false—­at least, that nothing went from our office towards it—­yet it troubled me, and therefore after the office rose I went and dined with my Lord Crew, and before dinner I did enter into that discourse, and laboured to satisfy him; but found, though he said little, yet that he was not yet satisfied; but after dinner did pray me to go and see how it was, whether true or no.  Did tell me if I was not their friend, they could trust to nobody, and that he did not forget my service and love to my Lord, and adventures for him in dangerous times, and therefore would not willingly doubt me now; but yet asked my pardon if, upon this news, he did begin to fear it.  This did mightily trouble me:  so I away thence to White Hall, but could do nothing.  So home, and there wrote all my letters, and then, in the evening, to White Hall again,