To White Hall, where I found my Lord gone with the King by water to dine at the Tower with Sir J. Robinson, Lieutenant. I found my Lady Jemimah at my Lord’s, with whom I staid and dined, all alone; after dinner to the Privy Seal Office, where I did business. So to a Committee of Parliament (Sir Hen[eage] Finch, Chairman), to give them an answer to an order of theirs, “that we could not give them any account of the Accounts of the Navy in the years 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, as they desire.” After that I went and bespoke some linen of Betty Lane in the Hall, and after that to the Trumpet, where I sat and talked with her, &c.
At night, it being very rainy, and it thundering and lightning exceedingly, I took coach at the Trumpet door, taking Monsieur L’Impertinent along with me as far as the Savoy, where he said he went to lie with Cary Dillon, and is still upon the mind of going (he and his whole family) to Ireland. Having set him down I made haste home, and in the courtyard, it being very dark, I heard a man inquire for my house, and having asked his business, he told me that my man William (who went this morning — out of town to meet his aunt Blackburne) was come home not very well to his mother, and so could not come home to-night. At which I was very sorry. I found my wife still in pain. To bed, having not time to write letters, and indeed having so many to write to all places that I have no heart to go about them.
Mrs. Shaw did die yesterday and her husband so sick that he is not like to live.
To a hen finch I give an account of the accounts of desire.
Night rain, thunder and lightning. I hear a man in pain.
I write to all places that have no heart.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 4 August 1660.