e Lord knows; but every day things look worse and
worse. God fit us for the worst!

11th (Lord's day). Up, and to church, myself and wife, where the old
dunce Meriton, brother to the known Meriton; of St. Martin's, Westminster,
did make a very good sermon, beyond my expectation. Home to dinner, and
we carried in Pegg Pen, and there also come to us little Michell and his
wife, and dined very pleasantly. Anon to church, my wife and I and Betty
Michell, her husband being gone to Westminster . . . . Alter church
home, and I to my chamber, and there did finish the putting time to my
song of "It is decreed," and do please myself at last and think it will be
thought a good song. By and by little Michell comes and takes away his
wife home, and my wife and brother and I to my uncle Wight's, where my
aunt is grown so ugly and their entertainment so bad that I am in pain to
be there; nor will go thither again a good while, if sent for, for we were
sent for to-night, we had not gone else. Wooly's wife, a silly woman, and
not very handsome, but no spirit in her at all; and their discourse mean,
and the fear of the troubles of the times hath made them not to bring
their plate to town, since it was carried out upon the business of the
fire, so that they drink in earth and a wooden can, which I do not like.
So home, and my people to bed. I late to finish my song, and then to bed
also, and the business of the firing of the city, and the fears we have of
new troubles and violences, and the fear of fire among ourselves, did keep
me awake a good while, considering the sad condition I and my family
should be in. So at last to sleep.

12th. Lay long in bed, and then up, and Mr. Carcasse brought me near 500
tickets to sign, which I did, and by discourse find him a cunning,
confident, shrewd man, but one that I do doubt hath by his discourse of
the ill will he hath got with my Lord Marquess of Dorchester (with whom he
lived), he hath had cunning practices in his time, and would not now spare
to use the same to his profit. That done I to the office; whither by and
by comes Creed to me, and he and I walked in the garden a little, talking
of the present ill condition of things, which is the common subject of all
men's discourse and fears now-a-days, and particularly of my Lady Denham,
whom everybody says is poisoned, and he tells me she hath said it to the
Duke of York; but is upon the mending hand, though the town says she is
dead thi