Up, and made myself as fine as I could, with the Linning stockings on and wide canons that I bought the other day at Hague. Extraordinary press of noble company, and great mirth all the day. There dined with me in my cabin (that is, the carpenter’s) Dr. Earle and Mr. Hollis, the King’s Chaplins, Dr. Scarborough, Dr. Quarterman, and Dr. Clerke, Physicians, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Fox (both very fine gentlemen), the King’s servants, where we had brave discourse.
Walking upon the decks, where persons of honour all the afternoon, among others, Thomas Killigrew (a merry droll, but a gentleman of great esteem with the King), who told us many merry stories: one, how he wrote a letter three or four days ago to the Princess Royal, about a Queen Dowager of Judaea and Palestine, that was at the Hague incognita, that made love to the King, &c., which was Mr. Cary (a courtier’s) wife that had been a nun, who are all married to Jesus.
At supper the three Drs. of Physic again at my cabin; where I put Dr. Scarborough in mind of what I heard him say about the use of the eyes, which he owned, that children do, in every day’s experience, look several ways with both their eyes, till custom teaches them otherwise. And that we do now see but with one eye, our eyes looking in parallel lines.
After this discourse I was called to write a pass for my Lord Mandeville to take up horses to London, which I wrote in the King’s name,1 and carried it to him to sign, which was the first and only one that ever he signed in the ship Charles. To bed, coming in sight of land a little before night.
A noble company dine with the carpenter,
a merry droll man of Palestine
that made love king.
I hear him say
that children look with both their eyes
till custom teaches otherwise.
We now see as horses do,
a sign only coming in sight a little before.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 24 May 1660.