the Committee of
the Lords for the prizes to-day, there passed very high words between my
Lord Ashly and Sir W. Coventry, about our business of the prize ships.
And that my Lord Ashly did snuff and talk as high to him, as he used
to do to any ordinary seaman. And that Sir W. Coventry did take it very
quietly, but yet for all did speak his mind soberly and with reason, and
went away, saying, he had done his duty therein, and so left it to them,
whether they would let so many ships go for masts or not: Here he and I
talked of 1,000 businesses, all profitable discourse, and late parted,
and I home to supper and to bed, troubled a little at a letter from my
father, telling me how [he] is like to be sued for a debt of Tom's, by
Smith, the mercer.

22nd. Up, and to the office all the morning. At noon my wife being gone
to her father's I dined with Sir W. Batten, he inviting me. After dinner
to my office close, and did very much business, and so late home to
supper and to bed. The plague increased four this week, which troubles
me, though but one in the whole.

23rd. Up, and going out of my dressing-room, when ready to go down
stairs, I spied little Mrs. Tooker, my pretty little girle, which, it
seems, did come yesterday to our house to stay a little while with us,
but I did not know of it till now. I was glad of her coming, she being a
very pretty child, and now grown almost a woman. I out by six o'clock by
appointment to Hales's, where we fell to my picture presently very hard,
and it comes on a very fine picture, and very merry, pleasant discourse
we had all the morning while he was painting. Anon comes my wife and
Mercer and little Tooker, and having done with me we all to a picture
drawer's hard by, Hales carrying me to see some landskipps of a man's
doing. But I do not [like] any of them, save only a piece of fruit,
which indeed was very fine. Thence I to Westminster, to the Chequer,
about a little business, and then to the Swan, and there sent for a bit
of meat and dined; and after dinner had opportunity of being pleased
with Sarah; and so away to Westminster Hall, and there Mrs. Michell
tells me with great joy how little Betty Howlett is married to her young
son Michell, which is a pretty odd thing, that he should so soon succeed
in the match to his elder brother that died of the plague, and to the
house and trade intended for him, and more they say that the girle has
heretofore said that she did love this little one