21st (Lord’s day).  Lay long in bed, so up to Church, and so home to dinner alone with my wife very pleasant.  After dinner I walked to my brother’s, where he told me some hopes he had of bringing his business to pass still of his mistress, but I do find they do stand upon terms that will not be either fit or in his power to grant, and therefore I did dislike his talk and advised him to give it quite over.  Thence walked to White Hall, and there to chappell, and from thence up stairs, and up and down the house and gallerys on the King’s and Queen’s side, and so through the garden to my Lord’s lodgings, where there was Mr. Gibbons, Madge, and Mallard, and Pagett; and by and by comes in my Lord Sandwich, and so we had great store of good musique.  By and by comes in my simple Lord Chandois, who (my Lord Sandwich being gone out to Court) began to sing psalms, but so dully that I was weary of it.  At last we broke up; and by and by comes in my Lord Sandwich again, and he and I to talk together about his businesses, and so he to bed and I and Mr. Creed and Captain Ferrers fell to a cold goose pye of Mrs. Sarah’s, heartily, and so spent our time till past twelve o’clock, and then with Creed to his lodgings, and so with him to bed, and slept till

22nd.  Six or seven o’clock and so up, and by the fireside read a good part of “The Advice to a Daughter,” which a simple coxcomb has wrote against Osborne, but in all my life I never did nor can expect to see so much nonsense in print Thence to my Lord’s, who is getting himself ready for his journey to Hinchingbroke.  And by and by, after eating something, and talking with me about many things, and telling me his mind, upon my asking about Sarah (who, it seems, only married of late, but is also said to be turned a great drunkard, which I am ashamed of), that he likes her service well, and do not love a strange face, but will not endure the fault, but hath bade me speak to her and advise her if she hath a mind to stay with him, which I will do.  My Lord and his people being gone, I walked to Mr. Coventry’s chamber, where I found him gone out into the Park with the Duke, so the boy being there ready with my things, I shifted myself into a riding-habitt, and followed him through White Hall, and in the Park Mr. Coventry’s people having a horse ready for me (so fine a one that I was almost afeard to get upon him, but I did, and found myself more feared than hurt) and I got up and followed the Duke, who, with some of his people (among others Mr. Coventry) was riding out.  And with them to Hide Park.  Where Mr. Coventry asking leave of the Duke, he bid us go to Woolwich.  So he and I to the waterside, and our horses coming by the ferry, we by oars over to Lambeth, and from thence, with brave discourse by the way, rode to Woolwich, where we eat and drank at Mr. Peat’s, and discoursed of many businesses, and put in practice my new way of the Call-book, which will be of great use.  Here, having staid a good while, we got up again and brought