Cave against us. I could have told him that he
could bear witness that Cave is satisfied, or else
there is no money due to himself; but I let alone
any such discourse, only getting as much out of him
as I could. I perceive he is a rogue, and hath
inquired into everything and consulted with Dr. Pepys,
and that he thinks as Dr. Pepys told him that my father
if he could would not pay a farthing of the debts,
and yet I made him confess that in all his lifetime
he never knew my father to be asked for money twice,
nay, not once, all the time he lived with him, and
that for his own debts he believed he would do so still,
but he meant only for those of Tom. He said
now that Randall and his wife and the midwife could
prove from my brother’s own mouth that the child
was his, and that Tom had told them the circumstances
of time, upon November 5th at night, that he got it
on her. I offered him if he would secure my
father against being forced to pay the money again
I would pay him, which at first he would do, give
his own security, and when I asked more than his own
he told me yes he would, and those able men, subsidy
men, but when we came by and by to discourse of it
again he would not then do it, but said he would take
his course, and joyne with Cave and release him, and
so we parted. However, this vexed me so as I
could not be quiet, but took coach to go speak with
Mr. Cole, but met him not within, so back, buying a
table by the way, and at my office late, and then home
to supper and to bed, my mind disordered about this
roguish business—in every thing else, I
thank God, well at ease.
26th. Up by 5 o’clock, which I have not
been many a day, and down by water to Deptford, and
there took in Mr. Pumpfield the rope-maker, and down
with him to Woolwich to view Clothier’s cordage,
which I found bad and stopped the receipt of it.
Thence to the ropeyard, and there among other things
discoursed with Mrs. Falconer, who tells me that she
has found the writing, and Sir W. Pen’s daughter
is not put into the lease for her life as he expected,
and I am glad of it. Thence to the Dockyarde,
and there saw the new ship in very great forwardness,
and so by water to Deptford a little, and so home
and shifting myself, to the ’Change, and there
did business, and thence down by water to White Hall,
by the way, at the Three Cranes, putting into an alehouse
and eat a bit of bread and cheese. There I could
not get into the Parke, and so was fain to stay in
the gallery over the gate to look to the passage into
the Parke, into which the King hath forbid of late
anybody’s coming, to watch his coming that had
appointed me to come, which he did by and by with his
lady and went to Guardener’s Lane, and there
instead of meeting with one that was handsome and
could play well, as they told me, she is the ugliest
beast and plays so basely as I never heard anybody,
so that I should loathe her being in my house.
However, she took us by and by and showed us indeed