Ordered him L2000, and he paid me my quantum out of it
     Ordered in the yarde six or eight bargemen to be whipped
     Out of my purse I dare not for fear of a precedent
     Pest coaches and put her into it to carry her to a pest house
     Plague claimed 68,596 victims (in 1665)
     Plague, forty last night, the bell always going
     Pleases them mightily, and me not at all
     Poor seamen that lie starving in the streets
     Pretends to a resolution of being hereafter very clean
     Pretty to see the young pretty ladies dressed like men
     Pride of some persons and vice of most was but a sad story
     Quakers and others that will not have any bell ring for them
     Resolving not to be bribed to dispatch business
     Sat an hour or two talking and discoursing . . . . 
     Saying me to be the fittest man in England
     Searchers with their rods in their hands
     See how a good dinner and feasting reconciles everybody
     Sicke men that are recovered, they lying before our office doors
     So to bed, to be up betimes by the helpe of a larum watch
     So great a trouble is fear
     The coachman that carried [us] cannot know me again
     The boy is well, and offers to be searched
     This absence makes us a little strange instead of more fond
     Those bred in the North among the colliers are good for labour
     Though neither of us care 2d. one for another
     Tied our men back to back, and thrown them all into the sea
     Told us he had not been in a bed in the whole seven years
     Too much of it will make her know her force too much
     Two shops in three, if not more, generally shut up
     Up, leaving my wife in bed, being sick of her months
     Wanton as ever she was, with much I made myself merry and away
     Well enough pleased this morning with their night’s lodging
     What silly discourse we had by the way as to love-matters
     When she least shews it hath her wit at work
     Where money is free, there is great plenty
     Which may teach me how I make others wait
     Who is the most, and promises the least, of any man
     Wife that brings me nothing almost (besides a comely person)

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

(Unabridged)

WITH LORD BRAYBROOKE’S NOTES

EDITED WITH ADDITIONS BY