Fuller's Worthys, the
Cabbala or Collections of Letters of State, and a little book,
Delices de Hollande, with another little book or two, all of good
use or serious pleasure; and Hudibras, both parts, the book now
in greatest fashion for drollery, though I cannot, I confess, see
enough where the wit lies. My mind being thus settled, I went by
link home, and so to my office, and to read in Rushworth; and so
home to supper and to-bed. Calling at Wotton's, my shoemaker's,
to-day, he tells me that Sir H. Wright is dying and that Harris
is come to the Duke's house again; and of a rare play to be acted
this week of Sir William Davenant's. The story of Henry the
Eighth with all his wives.
11th. At the Coffee-house I went and sat by Mr. Harrington, and
some East country merchants, and talking of the country above
Quinsborough, [Perhaps Mr. Harrington invented the name of this
place, and the account of the country.] and thereabouts, he told
us himself that for fish, none there the poorest body will buy a
dead fish, but must be alive, unless it be in the winter; and
then they told us the manner of putting their nets into the
water.
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