This morning I took my wife towards Westminster by water, and landed her at Whitefriars, with 5l. to buy her a petticoat, and I to the Privy Seal. By and by comes my wife to tell me that my father has persuaded her to buy a most fine cloth of 26s. a yard, and a rich lace, that the petticoat will come to 5l., at which I was somewhat troubled, but she doing it very innocently, I could not be angry.
I did give her more money, and sent her away, and I and Creed and Captain Hayward (who is now unkindly put out of the Plymouth to make way for Captain Allen to go to Constantinople, and put into his ship the Dover, which I know will trouble my Lord) went and dined at the Leg in King Street, where Captain Ferrers, my Lord’s Cornet, comes to us, who after dinner took me and Creed to the Cockpitt play, the first that I have had time to see since my coming from sea, “The Loyall Subject,” where one Kinaston, a boy, acted the Duke’s sister, but made the loveliest lady that ever I saw in my life, only her voice not very good. After the play done, we three went to drink, and by Captain Ferrers’ means, Kinaston and another that acted Archas, the General, came and drank with us. Hence home by coach, and after being trimmed, leaving my wife to look after her little bitch, which was just now a-whelping, I to bed.
I took my wife a friar’s coat,
a most fine cloth and a rich lace,
troubled money and a kind mouth,
a ship and a captain coming from sea—
the loveliest that ever I saw—
to look after her little bitch, which was just a-whelping.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 18 August 1660.