ng
staves.

"The manner is, as the company returns, to stop at the Spring Gardens so
called, in order to the Park as our _Thuilleries_ is to the _Course_;
the inclosure not disagreeable for the solemnness of the groves, the
warbling of the birds, and as it opens into the spacious walks of St.
James. But the company walk in it at such a rate as you would think all
the ladies were so many Atalantas contending with their wooers, and, my
Lord, there was no appearance that I should prove the Hippomenes, who
could with very much ado keep pace with them. But, as fast as they run,
they stay there so long, as if they wanted not to finish the race, for
it is usual here to find some of the young company till midnight, and
the thickets of the garden seem to be contrived to all the advantages of
gallantry after they have refreshed with the collation, which is here
seldom omitted, at a certain cabaret in the middle of this paradise,
where the forbidden fruits are certain trifling tarts, neats' tongues,
salacious meats, and bad Rhenish, for which the gallants pay sauce, as
indeed they do at all such houses throughout England; for they think it
a piece of frugality beneath them to bargain or account for what they
eat in any place, however unreasonably imposed upon."

Dorothy is quite right in her correction concerning Will Spencer. He was
the first Earl of Sunderland, and married Elizabeth, daughter of Lord
Gerard.

_June the 6th, 1654._

I see you know how to punish me. In earnest, I was so frightened with
your short letter as you cannot imagine, and as much troubled at the
cause on't. What is it your father ails, and how long has he been ill?
If my prayers are heard, he will not be so long. Why do you say I failed
you? Indeed, I did not. Jane is my witness. She carried my letter to the
White Hart, by St. James's, and 'twas a very long one too. I carried one
thither since, myself, and the woman of the house was so very angry,
because I desired her to have a care on't, that I made the coachman
drive away with all possible speed, lest she should have beaten me. To
say truth, I pressed her too much, considering how little the letter
deserved it. 'Twas writ in such disorder, the company prating about me,
and some of them so bent on doing me little mischiefs, that I know not
what I did, and believe it was the most senseless, disjointed thing that
ever was read.

I remember now that I writ Robin Spencer instead of Will. 'Tis he that