and as I believed he had done all he had sett. Though he himself do
indeed sing in a manner as to voice and manner the best I ever heard yet,
and a strange mastery he hath in making of extraordinary surprising
closes, that are mighty pretty, but his bragging that he do understand
tones and sounds as well as any man in the world, and better than Sir W.
Davenant or any body else, I do not like by no means, but was sick of it
and of him for it. He gone, Dr. Clerke fell to reading a new play, newly
writ, of a friend's of his; but, by his discourse and confession
afterwards, it was his own. Some things, but very few, moderately good;
but infinitely far from the conceit, wit, design, and language of very
many plays that I know; so that, but for compliment, I was quite tired
with hearing it. It being done, and commending the play, but against my
judgment, only the prologue magnifying the happiness of our former poets
when such sorry things did please the world as was then acted, was very
good. So set Mrs. Pierce at home, and away ourselves home, and there to
my office, and then my chamber till my eyes were sore at writing and
making ready my letter and accounts for the Commissioners of Tangier
to-morrow, which being done, to bed, hearing that there was a very great
disorder this day at the Ticket Office, to the beating and bruising of the
face of Carcasse very much. A foul evening this was to-night, and I
mightily troubled to get a coach home; and, which is now my common
practice, going over the ruins in the night, I rid with my sword drawn in
the coach.

14th. Up and to the office, where Carcasse comes with his plaistered
face, and called himself Sir W. Batten's martyr, which made W. Batten mad
almost, and mighty quarrelling there was. We spent the morning almost
wholly upon considering some way of keeping the peace at the Ticket
Office; but it is plain that the care of that office is nobody's work, and
that is it that makes it stand in the ill condition it do. At noon home