at the office that day, and she told me she was afraid that Mr. Downing may have a mind to pick some hole in my coat. So I made haste to him, but found no such thing from him, but he sent me to Mr. Sherwin’s about getting Mr. Squib to come to him tomorrow, and I carried him an answer. So home and fell a writing the characters for Mr. Downing, and about nine at night Mr. Hawly came, and after he was gone I sat up till almost twelve writing, and—wrote two of them. In the morning up early and wrote another, my wife lying in bed and reading to me.
28th. I went to Mr. Downing and carried him three characters, and then to my office and wrote another, while Mr. Frost staid telling money. And after I had done it Mr. Hawly came into the office and I left him and carried it to Mr. Downing, who then told me that he was resolved to be gone for Holland this morning. So I to my office again, and dispatch my business there, and came with Mr. Hawly to Mr. Downing’s lodging, and took Mr. Squib from White Hall in a coach thither with me, and there we waited in his chamber a great while, till he came in; and in the mean time, sent all his things to the barge that lay at Charing-Cross Stairs. Then came he in, and took a very civil leave of me, beyond my expectation, for I was afraid that he would have told me something of removing me from my office; but he did not, but that he would do me any service that lay in his power. So I went down and sent a porter to my house for my best fur cap, but he coming too late with it I did not present it to him. Thence I went to Westminster Hall, and bound up my cap at Mrs. Michell’s, who was much taken with my cap, and endeavoured to overtake the coach at the Exchange and to give it him there, but I met with one that told me that he was gone, and so I returned and went to Heaven,
[A place of entertainment within or adjoining Westminster Hall. It
is called in “Hudibras,” “False Heaven, at the end of the Hall.”
There were two other alehouses near Westminster Hall, called Hell
and Purgatory.
“Nor break his fast
In Heaven and Hell.”
Ben Jonson’s Alchemist, act v. SC. 2.]
where Luellin and I dined on a breast of mutton all alone, discoursing of the changes that we have seen and the happiness of them that have estates of their own, and so parted, and I went by appointment to my office and paid young Mr. Walton £500; it being very dark he took £300 by content. He gave me half a piece and carried me in his coach to St. Clement’s, from whence I went to Mr. Crew’s and made even with Mr. Andrews, and took in all my notes and gave him one for all. Then to my Lady Wright and gave her my Lord’s letter which he bade me give her privately. So home and then to Will’s for a little news, then came home again and wrote to my Lord, and so to Whitehall and gave them to the post-boy. Back again home and to bed.
29th. In the morning I went to Mr. Gunning’s, where he made an excellent sermon upon the 2d of the Galatians, about the difference that fell between St. Paul and St. Peter (the feast day of St. Paul being a day or two ago), whereby he did prove, that, contrary to the doctrine of the Roman Church, St. Paul did never own any dependance, or that he was inferior to St. Peter, but that they were equal, only one a particular charge of preaching to the Jews, and the other to the Gentiles. Here I met with Mr. Moore, and went home with him to dinner to Mr. Crew’s, where Mr. Spurrier being in town did dine with us. From thence I went home and spent the afternoon in casting up my accounts, and do find myself to be worth £40 and more, which I did not think, but am afraid that I have forgot something. To my father’s to supper, where I heard by my brother Tom how W. Joyce would the other day have Mr. Pierce and his wife to the tavern after they were gone from my house, and that he had so little manners as to make Tom pay his share notwithstanding that he went upon his account, and by my father I understand that my uncle Fenner and my aunt were much pleased with our entertaining them. After supper home without going to see Mrs. Turner.
30th. This morning, before I was up, I fell a-singing of my song, “Great, good, and just,” &c.
[This is the beginning of the Marquis of Montrose’s verses on the
execution of Charles I., which Pepys had set to music:
“Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief and thy too rigid fate,
I’d weep the world to such a strain
That it should deluge once again.
But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briareus’ hands, than Argus eyes,
I’ll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds,
And write thy epitaph with blood and wounds.”]
and put myself thereby in mind that this was the fatal day, now ten years since, his Majesty died. Scull the waterman came and brought me a note from the Hope from Mr. Hawly with direction, about his money, he tarrying there till his master be gone. To my office, where I received money of the excise of Mr. Ruddyer, and after we had done went to Will’s and staid there till 3 o’clock and then I taking my £12 10s. 0d. due to me for my last quarter’s salary, I went with them by water to London to the house where Signr. Torriano used to be and staid there a while with Mr. Ashwell, Spicer and Ruddier. Then I went and paid £12 17s. 6d. due from me to Captn. Dick Matthews according to his direction the last week in a letter. After that I came back by water playing on my flageolette and not finding my wife come home again from her father’s I went and sat awhile and played at cards with Mrs. Jam, whose maid had newly got an ague and was ill thereupon. So homewards again, having great need to do my business, and so pretending to meet Mr. Shott the wood monger of Whitehall I went and eased myself at the Harp and Ball, and thence home where I sat writing till bed-time and so to bed. There seems now to be a general cease of talk, it being taken for granted that Monk do resolve to stand to the Parliament, and nothing else. Spent a little time this night in knocking up nails for my hat and cloaks in my chamber.
31st. In the morning I fell to my lute till 9 o’clock. Then to my Lord’s lodgings and set out a barrel of soap to be carried to Mrs. Ann. Here I met with Nick Bartlet, one that had been a servant of my Lord’s at sea and at Harper’s gave him his morning draft. So to my office where I paid; £1200 to Mr. Frost and at noon went to Will’s to give one of the Excise office a pot of ale that came to-day to tell over a bag of his that wanted; £7 in it, which he found over in another bag. Then home and dined with my wife when in came Mr. Hawly newly come from shipboard from his master, and brought me a letter of direction what to do in his lawsuit with Squib about his house and office. After dinner to Westminster Hall, where all we clerks had orders to wait upon the Committee, at the Star Chamber that is to try Colonel Jones,
[Colonel John Jones, impeached, with General Ludlow and Miles
Corbet, for treasonable practices in Ireland.]
and were to give an account what money we had paid him; but the Committee did not sit to-day. Hence to Will’s, where I sat an hour or two with Mr. Godfrey Austin, a scrivener in King Street. Here I met and afterwards bought the answer to General Monk’s letter, which is a very good one, and I keep it by me. Thence to Mrs. Jem, where I found her maid in bed in a fit of the ague, and Mrs. Jem among the people below at work and by and by she came up hot and merry, as if they had given her wine, at which I was troubled, but said nothing; after a game at cards, I went home and wrote by the post and coming back called in at Harper’s and drank with Mr. Pulford, servant to Mr. Waterhouse, who tells me, that whereas my Lord Fleetwood should have answered to the Parliament to-day, he wrote a letter and desired a little more time, he being a great way out of town. And how that he is quite ashamed of himself, and confesses how he had deserved this, for his baseness to his brother. And that he is like to pay part of the money, paid out of the Exchequer during the Committee of Safety, out of his own purse again, which I am glad of. Home and to bed, leaving my wife reading in Polixandre.
[“Polexandre,” by Louis Le Roy de Gomberville, was first published
in 1632. “The History of Polexander” was “done into English by W.
Browne,” and published in folio, London, 1647. It was the earliest
of the French heroic romances, and it appears to