Friday 2 December 1664
Lay long in bed. Then up and to the office, where busy all the morning. At home dined. After dinner with my wife and Mercer to the Duke’s House, and there saw “The Rivalls,” which I had seen before; but the play not good, nor anything but the good actings of Betterton and his wife and Harris.
Thence homeward, and the coach broke with us in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and so walked to Fleete Streete, and there took coach and home, and to my office, whither by and by comes Captain Cocke, and then Sir W. Batten, and we all to Sir J. Minnes, and I did give them a barrel of oysters I had given to me, and so there sat and talked, where good discourse of the late troubles, they knowing things, all of them, very well; and Cocke, from the King’s own mouth, being then entrusted himself much, do know particularly that the King’s credulity to Cromwell’s promises, private to him, against the advice of his friends and the certain discovery of the practices and discourses of Cromwell in council (by Major Huntington) did take away his life and nothing else.1
Then to some loose atheisticall discourse of Cocke’s, when he was almost drunk, and then about 11 o’clock broke up, and I to my office, to fit up an account for Povy, wherein I hope to get something. At it till almost two o’clock, then to supper and to bed.
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