of the house, a very lusty fellow, as Sir G. Carteret’s cook, who is very big, and they did raise him in just the same manner.  This is one of the strangest things I ever heard, but he tells it me of his owne knowledge, and I do heartily believe it to be true.  I enquired of him whether they were Protestant or Catholique girles; and he told me they were Protestant, which made it the more strange to me.  Thus we end this month, as I said, after the greatest glut of content that ever I had; only under some difficulty because of the plague, which grows mightily upon us, the last week being about 1700 or 1800 of the plague.  My Lord Sandwich at sea with a fleet of about 100 sail, to the Northward, expecting De Ruyter, or the Dutch East India fleet.  My Lord Hinchingbroke coming over from France, and will meet his sister at Scott’s-hall.  Myself having obliged both these families in this business very much; as both my Lady, and Sir G. Carteret and his Lady do confess exceedingly, and the latter do also now call me cozen, which I am glad of.  So God preserve us all friends long, and continue health among us.

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     About two o’clock, too late and too soon to go home to bed
     And all to dinner and sat down to the King saving myself
     Baseness and looseness of the Court
     Being able to do little business (but the less the better)
     Contracted for her as if he had been buying a horse
     Did bear with it, and very pleasant all the while
     Doubtfull whether her daughter will like of it or no
     Endeavouring to strike tallys for money for Tangier
     For, for her part, she should not be buried in the commons
     Had what pleasure almost I would with her
     Hath a good heart to bear, or a cunning one to conceal his evil
     I have promised, but know not when I shall perform
     I kissed the bride in bed, and so the curtaines drawne
     Less he finds of difference between them and other men
     Lord! in the dullest insipid manner that ever lover did
     Nan at Moreclacke, very much pleased and merry with her
     Not had the confidence to take his lady once by the hand
     Out of my purse I dare not for fear of a precedent
     Plague, forty last night, the bell always going
     Pretty to see the young pretty ladies dressed like men
     So to bed, to be up betimes by the helpe of a larum watch
     This absence makes us a little strange instead of more fond
     What silly discourse we had by the way as to love-matters

THE DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS M.A.  F.R.S.

CLERK OF THE ACTS AND SECRETARY TO THE ADMIRALTY

Transcribed from the shorthand manuscript in the Pepysian library
Magdalene College Cambridge by the Rev.  MYNORS bright M.A.  Late fellow
and President of the College