k that what
the King do, of giving the Duke of Monmouth the command of his
Guards, and giving my Lord Gerard L12,000 for it, is merely to find an
employment for him upon which he may live, and not out of any design to
bring him into any title to the Crowne; which Mr. Moore did the other
day put me into great fear of. After dinner, he gone, my wife to the
King's play-house to see "The Northerne Castle," which I think I never
did see before. Knipp acted in it, and did her part very extraordinary
well; but the play is but a mean, sorry play; but the house very full of
gallants. It seems, it hath not been acted a good while. Thence to the
Exchange for something for my wife, and then home and to the office, and
then home to our flageolet, and so to bed, being mightily troubled in
mind at the liberty I give myself of going to plays upon pretence of the
weakness of my eyes, that cannot continue so long together at work at my
office, but I must remedy it.

15th (Lord's day). Up to my chamber, there to set some papers to rights.
By and by to church, where I stood, in continual fear of Mrs. Markham's
coming to church, and offering to come into our pew, to prevent which,
soon as ever I heard the great door open, I did step back, and clap my
breech to our pew-door, that she might be forced to shove me to come
in; but as God would have it, she did not come. Mr. Mills preached, and
after sermon, by invitation, he and his wife come to dine with me, which
is the first time they have been in my house; I think, these five years,
I thinking it not amiss, because of their acquaintance in our country,
to shew them some respect. Mr. Turner and his wife, and their son the
Captain, dined with me, and I had a very good dinner for them, and very
merry, and after dinner, he [Mr. Mills] was forced to go, though it
rained, to Stepney, to preach. We also to church, and then home, and
there comes Mr. Pelling, with two men, by promise, one Wallington and
Piggott, the former whereof, being a very little fellow, did sing a most
excellent bass, and yet a poor fellow, a working goldsmith, that goes
without gloves to his hands. Here we sung several good things, but I am
more and more confirmed that singing with many voices is not singing,
but a sort of instrumental musique, the sense of the words being lost
by not being heard, and especially as they set them with Fuges of words,
one after another, whereas singing properly, I think, should be but with
one o