to want one. To which I agreed, and desired them
to get their wives to enquire out one. By and by they bid me good night,
but immediately as they were gone out of doors comes Mrs. Turner's boy
with a note to me to tell me that my brother Tom was so ill as they feared
he would not long live, and that it would be fit I should come and see
him. So I sent for them back, and they came, and Will Joyce desiring to
speak with me alone I took him up, and there he did plainly tell me to my
great astonishment that my brother is deadly ill, and that their chief
business of coming was to tell me so, and what is worst that his disease
is the pox, which he hath heretofore got, and hath not been cured, but is
come to this, and that this is certain, though a secret told his father
Fenner by the Doctor which he helped my brother to. This troubled me
mightily, but however I thought fit to go see him for speech of people's
sake, and so walked along with them, and in our way called on my uncle
Fenner (where I have not been these 12 months and more) and advised with
him, and then to my brother, who lies in bed talking idle. He could only
say that he knew me, and then fell to other discourse, and his face like a
dying man, which Mrs. Turner, who was here, and others conclude he is.
The company being gone, I took the mayde, which seems a very grave and
serious woman, and in W. Joyce's company' did inquire how things are with
her master. She told me many things very discreetly, and said she had all
his papers and books, and key of his cutting house, and showed me a bag
which I and Wm. Joyce told, coming to L5 14s. 0d., which we left with her
again, after giving her good counsel, and the boys, and seeing a nurse
there of Mrs. Holden's choosing, I left them, and so walked home greatly
troubled to think of my brother's condition, and the trouble that would
arise to me by his death or continuing sick. So at home, my mind
troubled, to bed.

14th. Up, and walked to my brother's, where I find he hath continued
talking idly all night, and now 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 no