andmother, but so like a
changeling, would make a man laugh to death almost, and yet be vexed to
hear her. By and by to the office to make up my monthly accounts, which
I make up to-night, and to my great content find myself worth eight
hundred and ninety and odd pounds, the greatest sum I ever yet knew, and
so with a heart at great case to bed.

MARCH 1663-1664

March 1st. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at
noon to the 'Change, and after much business and meeting my uncle Wight,
who told me how Mr. Maes had like to have been trapanned yesterday, but
was forced to run for it; so with Creed and Mr. Hunt home to dinner, and
after a good and pleasant dinner, Mr. Hunt parted, and I took Mr. Creed
and my wife and down to Deptford, it being most pleasant weather, and
there till night discoursing with the officers there about several
things, and so walked home by moonshine, it being mighty pleasant, and
so home, and I to my office, where late about getting myself a thorough
understanding in the business of masts, and so home to bed, my left eye
being mightily troubled with rheum.

2nd. Up, my eye mightily out of order with the rheum that is fallen
down into it, however, I by coach endeavoured to have waited on my Lord
Sandwich, but meeting him in Chancery Lane going towards the City
I stopped and so fairly walked home again, calling at St. Paul's
Churchyarde, and there looked upon a pretty burlesque poem, called
"Scarronides, or Virgile Travesty;" extraordinary good. At home to the
office till dinner, and after dinner my wife cut my hair short, which
is growne pretty long again, and then to the office, and there till 9
at night doing business. This afternoon we had a good present of tongues
and bacon from Mr. Shales, of Portsmouth. So at night home to supper,
and, being troubled with my eye, to bed. This morning Mr. Burgby, one of
the writing clerks belonging to the Council, was with me about business,
a knowing man, he complains how most of the Lords of the Council do look
after themselves and their own ends, and none the publique, unless Sir
Edward Nicholas. Sir G. Carteret is diligent, but all for his own ends
and profit. My Lord Privy Scale, a destroyer of every body's business,
and do no good at all to the publique. The Archbishop of Canterbury
speaks very little, nor do much, being now come to the highest pitch
that he can expect. He tells me, he believes that things will go very
high aga