Grayscale

This morning I went to White Hall with Sir W. Pen by water, who in our passage told me how he was bred up under Sir W. Batten. We went to Mr. Coventry’s chamber, and consulted of drawing my papers of debts of the Navy against the afternoon for the Committee. So to the Admiralty, where W. Hewer and I did them, and after that he went to his Aunts Blackburn (who has a kinswoman dead at her house to-day, and was to be buried to-night, by which means he staid very late out). I to Westminster Hall, where I met Mr. Crew and dined with him, where there dined one Mr. Hickeman, an Oxford man, who spoke very much against the height of the new old-clergy, for putting out many of the religious fellows of Colleges, and inveighing against them for their being drunk, which, if true, I am sorry to hear.
After that towards Westminster, where I called on Mr. Pim, and there found my velvet coat (the first that ever I had) done, and a velvet mantle, which I took to the Privy Seal Office, and there locked them up, and went to the Queen’s Court, and there, after much waiting, spoke with Colonel Birch, who read my papers, and desired some addition, which done I returned to the Privy Seal, where little to do, and with Mr. Moore towards London, and in our way meeting Monsieur Eschar (Mr. Montagu’s man), about the Savoy, he took us to the Brazennose Tavern, and there drank and so parted, and I home by coach, and there, it being post-night, I wrote to my Lord to give him notice that all things are well; that General Monk is made Lieutenant of Ireland, which my Lord Roberts (made Deputy) do not like of, to be Deputy to any man but the King himself. After that to bed.

White and black:
day buried night
in birch paper.
A Zen monk.
Any hat.


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 21 August 1660.

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