Diary, March 1663/64 | Page 9

knows me not; which troubles me
mightily. So I walked down and discoursed a great while alone with the
mayde, who tells me many passages of her master's practices, and how
she concludes that he has run behind hand a great while and owes
money, and has been dunned by several people, among others by one
Cave, both husband and wife, but whether it was for--[See April 6th]--
money or something worse she knows not, but there is one Cranburne, I
think she called him, in Fleete Lane with whom he hath many times
been mighty private, but what their dealings have been she knows not,
but believes these were naught, and then his sitting up two Saturday
nights one after another when all were abed doing something to himself,
which she now suspects what it was, but did not before, but tells me

that he hath been a very bad husband as to spending his time, and hath
often told him of it, so that upon the whole I do find he is, whether he
lives or dies, a ruined man, and what trouble will befall me by it I know
not. Thence to White Hall; and in the Duke's chamber, while he was
dressing, two persons of quality that were there did tell his Royal
Highness how the other night, in Holborne, about midnight, being at
cards, a link-boy come by and run into the house, and told the people
the house was a-falling. Upon this the whole family was frighted,
concluding that the boy had said that the house was a-fire: so they deft
their cards above, and one would have got out of the balcone, but it was
not open; the other went up to fetch down his children, that were in bed;
so all got clear out of the house. And no sooner so, but the house fell
down indeed, from top to bottom. It seems my Lord Southampton's
canaille--[sewer]--did come too near their foundation, and so weakened
the house, and down it came; which, in every respect, is a most
extraordinary passage. By and by into his closet and did our business
with him. But I did not speed as I expected in a business about the
manner of buying hemp for this year, which troubled me, but it
proceeds only from my pride, that I must needs expect every thing to be
ordered just as I apprehend, though it was not I think from my errour,
but their not being willing to hear and consider all that I had to propose.
Being broke up I followed my Lord Sandwich and thanked him for his
putting me into the Fishery, which I perceive he expected, and cried
"Oh!" says he, "in the Fishery you mean. I told you I would remember
you in it," but offered no other discourse. But demanding whether he
had any commands for me, methought he cried "No!" as if he had no
more mind to discourse with me, which still troubles me and hath done
all the day, though I think I am a fool for it, in not pursuing my
resolution of going handsome in clothes and looking high, for that must
do it when all is done with my Lord. Thence by coach with Sir W.
Batten to the city, and his son Castle, who talks mighty highly against
Captain Tayler, calling him knave, and I find that the old Boating father
is led and talks just as the son do, or the son as the father would have
him. 'Light and to Mr. Moxon's, and there saw our office globes in
doing, which will be very handsome but cost money. So to the
Coffee-house, and there very fine discourse with Mr. Hill the merchant,
a pretty, gentile, young, and sober man. So to the 'Change, and thence

home, where my wife and I fell out about my not being willing to have
her have her gowne laced, but would lay out the same money and more
on a plain new one. At this she flounced away in a manner I never saw
her, nor which I could ever endure. So I away to the office, though she
had dressed herself to go see my Lady Sandwich. She by and by in a
rage follows me, and coming to me tells me in spitefull manner like a
vixen and with a look full of rancour that she would go buy a new one
and lace it and make me pay for it, and then let me burn it if I would
after she had done it, and so went away in a fury. This vexed me cruelly,
but being very busy I had, not hand to give myself up to consult what to
do in it, but anon, I