Lay long in bed to-day. Sir Wm. Batten went this morning to Deptford to pay off the Wolf. Mr. Comptroller and I sat a while at the office to do business, and thence I went with him to his house in Lime Street, a fine house, and where I never was before, and from thence by coach (setting down his sister at the new Exchange) to Westminster Hall, where first I met with Jack Spicer and agreed with him to help me to tell money this afternoon. Hence to De Cretz, where I saw my Lord’s picture finished, which do please me very well. So back to the Hall, where by appointment I met the Comptroller, and with him and three or four Parliament men I dined at Heaven, and after dinner called at Will’s on Jack Spicer, and took him to Mr. Fox’s, who saved me the labour of telling me the money by giving me 3000l. by consent (the other 1000l. I am to have on Thursday next), which I carried by coach to the Exchequer, and put it up in a chest in Spicer’s office. From thence walked to my father’s, where I found my wife, who had been with my father to-day, buying of a tablecloth and a dozen of napkins of diaper, the first that ever I bought in my life.
My father and I took occasion to go forth, and went and drank at Mr. Standing’s, and there discoursed seriously about my sister’s coming to live with me, which I have much mind for her good to have, and yet I am much afeard of her ill-nature.
Coming home again, he and I, and my wife, my mother and Pall, went all together into the little room, and there I told her plainly what my mind was, to have her come not as a sister in any respect, but as a servant, which she promised me that she would, and with many thanks did weep for joy, which did give me and my wife some content and satisfaction.
So by coach home and to bed.
The last night I should have mentioned how my wife and I were troubled all night with the sound of drums in our ears, which in the morning we found to be Mr. Davys’s jack, but not knowing the cause of its going all night, I understand to-day that they have had a great feast to-day.
We pay the wolf
with a fine house
Save me from nature—
not a sister
but a servant.
All night it drums
in our ears.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 12 November 1660.