,
and so spent our time till past twelve o'clock, and then with Creed to
his lodgings, and so with him to bed, and slept till

22nd. Six or seven o'clock and so up, and by the fireside read a good
part of "The Advice to a Daughter," which a simple coxcomb has wrote
against Osborne, but in all my life I never did nor can expect to see so
much nonsense in print Thence to my Lord's, who is getting himself ready
for his journey to Hinchingbroke. And by and by, after eating something,
and talking with me about many things, and telling me his mind, upon
my asking about Sarah (who, it seems, only married of late, but is also
said to be turned a great drunkard, which I am ashamed of), that he
likes her service well, and do not love a strange face, but will not
endure the fault, but hath bade me speak to her and advise her if she
hath a mind to stay with him, which I will do. My Lord and his people
being gone, I walked to Mr. Coventry's chamber, where I found him gone
out into the Park with the Duke, so the boy being there ready with my
things, I shifted myself into a riding-habitt, and followed him through
White Hall, and in the Park Mr. Coventry's people having a horse ready
for me (so fine a one that I was almost afeard to get upon him, but I
did, and found myself more feared than hurt) and I got up and followed
the Duke, who, with some of his people (among others Mr. Coventry) was
riding out. And with them to Hide Park. Where Mr. Coventry asking leave
of the Duke, he bid us go to Woolwich. So he and I to the waterside,
and our horses coming by the ferry, we by oars over to Lambeth, and from
thence, with brave discourse by the way, rode to Woolwich, where we eat
and drank at Mr. Peat's, and discoursed of many businesses, and put in
practice my new way of the Call-book, which will be of great use. Here,
having staid a good while, we got up again and brought night home with
us and foul weather. So over to Whitehall to his chamber, whither my boy
came, who had staid in St. James's Park by my mistake all day, looking
for me. Thence took my things that I put off to-day, and by coach, being
very wet and cold, on my feet home, and presently shifted myself, and so
had the barber come; and my wife and I to read "Ovid's Metamorphoses,"
which I brought her home from Paul's Churchyard to-night, having called
for it by the way, and so to bed,

23rd. And slept hard till 8 o'clock this morning, and so up and to the
office, where I found Si