me thither time enough to meet Povy and Creed and
none else. The Court being empty, the King being gone to Tunbridge, and
the Duke of Yorke a-hunting. I had some discourse with Povy, who is
mightily discontented, I find, about his disappointments at Court; and
says, of all places, if there be hell, it is here. No faith, no truth, no
love, nor any agreement between man and wife, nor friends. He would have
spoke broader, but I put it off to another time; and so parted. Then with
Creed and read over with him the narrative of the late [fight], which he
makes a very poor thing of, as it is indeed, and speaks most slightingly
of the whole matter. Povy discoursed with me about my Lord Peterborough's
L50 which his man did give me from him, the last year's salary I paid him,
which he would have Povy pay him again; but I have not taken it to myself
yet, and therefore will most heartily return him, and mark him out for a
coxcomb. Povy went down to Mr. Williamson's, and brought me up this
extract out of the Flanders' letters to-day come: That Admiral Everson,
and the Admiral and Vice-Admiral of Freezeland, with many captains and
men, are slain; that De Ruyter is safe, but lost 250 men out of his own
ship; but that he is in great disgrace, and Trump in better favour; that
Bankert's ship is burned, himself hardly escaping with a few men on board
De Haes; that fifteen captains are to be tried the seventh of August; and
that the hangman was sent from Flushing to assist the Council of Warr.
How much of this is true, time will shew. Thence to Westminster Hall and
walked an hour with Creed talking of the late fight, and observing the
ridiculous management thereof and success of the Duke of Albemarle. Thence
parted and to Mrs. Martin's lodgings, and sat with her a while, and then
by water home, all the way reading the Narrative of the late fight in
order, it may be, to the making some marginal notes upon it. At the Old
Swan found my Betty Michell at the doore, where I staid talking with her a
pretty while, it being dusky, and kissed her and so away home and writ my
letters, and then home to supper, where the, brother and Mary Batelier are
still and Mercer's two sisters. They have spent the time dancing this
afternoon, and we were very merry, and then after supper into the garden
and there walked, and then home with them and then back again, my wife and
I and the girle, and sang in the garden and then to bed. Colville was
with me thi