["The Poor Whores’ Petition to the most splendid, illustrious, serene and eminent Lady of Pleasure the Countess of Castlemayne, &c., signed by us, Madam Cresswell and Damaris Page, this present 25th day of March, 1668.”  This sham petition occasioned a pretended answer, entitled, “The Gracious Answer of the Most Illustrious Lady of Pleasure, the Countess of Castlem . . . . to the Poor Whores’ Petition.”  It is signed, “Given at our Closset, in King Street, Westminster, die Veneris, April 24, 1668.  Castlem . . . .”  Compare Evelyn, April 2nd, 1668.]

the petition of the poor whores about the town, whose houses were pulled down the other day.  I have got one of them, but it is not very witty, but devilish severe against her and the King and I wonder how it durst be printed and spread abroad, which shews that the times are loose, and come to a great disregard of the King, or Court, or Government.  Thence I to White Hall to attend the Council, and when the Council rose we find my order mightily enlarged by the Sollicitor Generall, who was called thither, making it more safe for him and the Council, but their order is the same in the command of it that I drew, and will I think defend us well.  So thence, meeting Creed, he and I to the new Cocke-pitt by the King’s gate, and there saw the manner of it, and the mixed rabble of people that come thither; and saw two battles of cocks, wherein is no great sport, but only to consider how these creatures, without any provocation, do fight and kill one another, and aim only at one another’s heads, and by their good will not leave till one of them be killed; and thence to the Park in a hackney coach, so would not go into the tour, but round about the Park, and to the House, and there at the door eat and drank; whither come my Lady Kerneagy, of whom Creed tells me more particulars; how her Lord, finding her and the Duke of York at the King’s first coming in too kind, did get it out of her that he did dishonour him, and so bid her continue . . . , which is the most pernicious and full piece of revenge that ever I heard of; and he at this day owns it with great glory, and looks upon the Duke of York and the world with great content in the ampleness of his revenge.  Thence (where the place was now by the last night’s rain very pleasant, and no dust) to White Hall, and set Creed down, and I home and to my chamber, and there about my musique notions again, wherein I take delight and find great satisfaction in them, and so, after a little supper, to bed.  This day, in the afternoon, stepping with the Duke of York into St. James’s Park, it rained:  and I was forced to lend the Duke of York my cloak, which he wore through the Park.