his month.]--in Speede, in order to my seeing the play thereof acted
to-morrow at the King's house. So to supper in some pain by the sudden
change of the weather cold and my drinking of cold drink, which I must I
fear begin to leave off, though I shall try it as long as I can without
much pain. But I find myself to be full of wind, and my anus to be knit
together as it is always with cold. Every body wonders that we have no
news from Bredah of the ratification of the peace; and do suspect that
there is some stop in it. So to bed.

17th. Up, and all the morning at the office, where we sat, and my head
was full of the business of Carcasse, who hath a hearing this morning
before the Council and hath summonsed at least thirty persons, and which
is wondrous, a great many of them, I hear, do declare more against him
than for him, and yet he summonses people without distinction. Sure he
is distracted. At noon home to dinner, and presently my wife and I and
Sir W. Pen to the King's playhouse, where the house extraordinary full;
and there was the King and Duke of York to see the new play, "Queen
Elizabeth's Troubles and the History of Eighty Eight." I confess I have
sucked in so much of the sad story of Queen Elizabeth, from my cradle,
that I was ready to weep for her sometimes; but the play is the most
ridiculous that sure ever come upon the stage; and, indeed, is merely a
shew, only shews the true garbe of the Queen in those days, just as we
see Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth painted; but the play is merely a
puppet play, acted by living puppets. Neither the design nor language
better; and one stands by and tells us the meaning of things: only I was
pleased to see Knipp dance among the milkmaids, and to hear her sing a
song to Queen Elizabeth; and to see her come out in her night-gowne with
no lockes on, but her bare face and hair only tied up in a knot behind;
which is the comeliest dress that ever I saw her in to her advantage.
Thence home and went as far as Mile End with Sir W. Pen, whose coach
took him up there for his country-house; and after having drunk there,
at the Rose and Crowne, a good house for Alderman Bides ale,--[John
Bide, brewer, Sheriff of London in 1647.--B.]--we parted, and we home,
and there I finished my letters, and then home to supper and to bed.

18th (Lord's day). Up, and being ready, walked up and down to Cree
Church, to see it how it is; but I find no alteration there, as they say
there was, for my