Diary, November 1667 | Page 8

going to St. James's, and the gallery doors locked up, that
nobody might pass to nor fro and a sad house, I am sure. I am sad to
consider the effects of his death, if he should miscarry; but Dr. Frazier
tells me that he is in as good condition as a man can be in his case. The
eruption appeared last night; it seems he was let blood on Friday.
Thence, not finding [Sir] W. Coventry, and going back again home, we
met him coming with the Lord Keeper, and so returned and spoke with
him in White Hall Garden, two or three turns, advising with him what
we should do about Carcasse's bringing his letter into the Committee of

Parliament, and he told us that the counsel he hath too late learned is, to
spring nothing in the House, nor offer anything, but just what is drawn
out of a man: that this is the best way of dealing with a Parliament, and
that he hath paid dear, and knows not how much more he may pay, for
not knowing it sooner, when he did unnecessarily produce the Duke of
Albemarle's letter about Chatham, which if demanded would have
come out with all the advantages in the world to Sir W. Coventry, but,
as he brought it out himself, hath drawn much evil upon him. After
some talk of this kind, we back home, and there I to my chamber busy
all the evening, and then to supper and to bed, my head running all
night upon our businesses in Parliament and what examinations we are
likely to go under before they have done with us, which troubles me
more than it should a wise man and a man the best able to defend
himself, I believe, of our own whole office, or any other, I am apt to
think.

11th. Up, and to Simpson at work in my office, and thence with Sir G.
Carteret (who come to talk with me) to Broad Streete, where great
crowding of people for money, at which he blamed himself. Thence
with him and Lord Bruncker to Captain Cocke's (he out of doors), and
there drank their morning draught, and thence [Sir] G. Carteret and I
toward the Temple in coach together; and there he did tell me how the
King do all he can in the world to overthrow my Lord Chancellor, and
that notice is taken of every man about the King that is not seen to
promote the ruine of the Chancellor; and that this being another great
day in his business, he dares not but be there. He tells me that as soon
as Secretary Morrice brought the Great Seale from my Lord Chancellor,
Bab. May fell upon his knees, and catched the King about the legs, and
joyed him, and said that this was the first time that ever he could call
him King of England, being freed from this great man: which was a
most ridiculous saying. And he told me that, when first my Lord Gerard,
a great while ago, come to the King, and told him that the Chancellor
did say openly that the King was a lazy person and not fit to govern,
which is now made one of the things in the people's mouths against the
Chancellor, "Why," says the King, "that is no news, for he hath told me
so twenty times, and but the other day he told me so;" and made matter
of mirth at it: but yet this light discourse is likely to prove bad to him. I

'light at the Temple, and went to my tailor's and mercer's about a cloake,
to choose the stuff, and so to my bookseller's and bought some books,
and so home to dinner, and Simpson my joyner with me, and after
dinner, my wife, and I, and Willett, to the King's play-house, and there
saw "The Indian Emperour," a good play, but not so good as people cry
it up, I think, though above all things Nell's ill speaking of a great part
made me mad. Thence with great trouble and charge getting a coach (it
being now and having been all this day a most cold and foggy, dark,
thick day), we home, and there I to my office, and saw it made clean
from top to bottom, till I feared I took cold in walking in a damp room
while it is in washing, and so home to supper and to bed. This day I had
a whole doe sent me by Mr. Hozier, which is a fine present, and I had
the umbles of it for dinner. This day I hear Kirton, my bookseller, poor
man, is dead, I believe, of grief for his losses by the fire.