though they are the greatest people that ever were in the nation as to
power, and like to be our judges, yet I did never speak one word to him of
desiring favour, or bidding him joy in it, but did answer him to what he
said, and do resolve to stand or fall by my silent preparing to answer
whatever can be laid to me, and that will be my best proceeding, I think.
This day I got a little rent in my new fine camlett cloak with the latch
of Sir G. Carteret's door; but it is darned up at my tailor's, that it
will be no great blemish to it; but it troubled me. I could not but
observe that Sir Philip Carteret would fain have given me my going into a
play; but yet, when he come to the door, he had no money to pay for
himself, I having refused to accept of it for myself, but was fain; and I
perceive he is known there, and do run upon the score for plays, which is
a shame; but I perceive always he is in want of money.

[The practice of gallants attending the theatre without payment is
illustrated by Mr. Lowe in his "Betterton," from Shadwell's "True
Widow":

"1st Doorkeeper. Pray, sir, pay me: my masters will make me
pay it.

3d Man. Impudent rascal, do you ask me for money? Take that,
sirrah.

2nd Doorkeeper. Will you pay me, sir?

4th Man. No; I don't intend to stay.

2nd Doorkeeper. So you say every day, and see two or three
acts for nothing."]