Via Negativa

Up and within all the morning, first bringing down my Tryangle to my chamber below, having a new frame made proper for it to stand on. By and by comes Dr. Burnett, who assures me that I have an ulcer either in the kidneys or bladder, for my water, which he saw yesterday, he is sure the sediment is not slime gathered by heat, but is a direct pusse. He did write me down some direction what to do for it, but not with the satisfaction I expected.
Dr. Burnett’s advice to mee.
The Originall is fyled among my letters.
Take of ye Rootes of Marsh-Mallows foure ounces, of Cumfry, of Liquorish, of each two ounces, of ye Mowers of St. John’s Wort two Handsfull, of ye Leaves of Plantan, of Alehoofe, of each three handfulls, of Selfeheale, of Red Roses, of each one Handfull, of Cynament, of Nutmegg, of each halfe an ounce. Beate them well, then powre upon them one Quart of old Rhenish wine, and about Six houres after strayne it and clarify it with ye white of an Egge, and with a sufficient quantity of sugar, boyle it to ye consistence of a Syrrup and reserve it for use.
Dissolve one spoonefull of this Syrrup in every draught of Ale or beere you drink.
Morning and evening swallow ye quantity of an hazle-nutt of Cyprus Terebintine.
If you are bound or have a fit of ye Stone eate an ounce of Cassia new drawne, from ye poynt of a knife.
Old Canary or Malaga wine you may drinke to three or 4 glasses, but noe new wine, and what wine you drinke, lett it bee at meales.
I did give him a piece, with good hopes, however, that his advice will be of use to me, though it is strange that Mr. Hollyard should never say one word of this ulcer in all his life to me.
He being gone, I to the ‘Change, and thence home to dinner, and so to my office, busy till the evening, and then by agreement came Mr. Hill and Andrews and one Cheswicke, a maister who plays very well upon the Spinette, and we sat singing Psalms till 9 at night, and so broke up with great pleasure, and very good company it is, and I hope I shall now and then have their company. They being gone, I to my office till towards twelve o’clock, and then home and to bed.
Upon the ‘Change, this day, I saw how uncertain the temper of the people is, that, from our discharging of about 200 that lay idle, having nothing to do, upon some of our ships, which were ordered to be fitted for service, and their works are now done, the towne do talk that the King discharges all his men, 200 yesterday and 800 to-day, and that now he hath got 100,000l. in his hand, he values not a Dutch warr. But I undeceived a great many, telling them how it is.

O my bladder
strain to reserve one
spoonful of beer

morning and evening
you are a new-drawn knife

old canary
you never sing till night
a great discharging

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 1 July 1664.

Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, Mr. Wayth with me, and by and by comes in Mr. Falconer and his wife and dined with us, the first time she was ever here. We had a pretty good dinner, very merry in discourse, sat after dinner an hour or two, then down by water to Deptford and Woolwich about getting of some business done which I was bound to by my oath this month, and though in some things I have not come to the height of my vow of doing all my business in paying all my petty debts and receipt of all my petty monies due to me, yet I bless God I am not conscious of any neglect in me that they are not done, having not minded my pleasure at all, and so being resolved to take no manner of pleasure till it be done, I doubt not God will forgive me for not forfeiting the 10l. promised.
Walked back from Woolwich to Greenwich all alone, save a man that had a cudgell in his hand, and, though he told me he laboured in the King’s yarde, and many other good arguments that he is an honest man, yet, God forgive me! I did doubt he might knock me on the head behind with his club. But I got safe home. Then to the making up my month’s accounts, and find myself still a gainer and rose to 951l., for which God be blessed. I end the month with my mind full of business and some sorrow that I have not exactly performed all my vowes, though my not doing is not my fault, and shall be made good out of my first leisure.
Great doubts yet whether the Dutch wary go on or no. The Fleet ready in the Hope, of twelve sayle. The King and Queenes go on board, they say, on Saturday next.
Young children of my Lord Sandwich gone with their mayds from my mother’s, which troubles me, it being, I hear from Mr. Shepley, with great discontent, saying, that though they buy good meate, yet can never have it before it stinks, which I am ashamed of.

I have come to the height of neglect
the not-done not minded at all

give me a knock on the head
with a rose full of sorrow

my not-doing is made
out of hope and shame

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 30 June 1664.

Up, and this day put on a half shirt first this summer, it being very hot; and yet so ill-tempered I am grown, that I am afeard I shall catch cold, while all the world is ready to melt away.
To the office all the morning, at noon to dinner at home, then to my office till the evening, then out about several businesses and then by appointment to the ‘Change, and thence with my uncle Wight to the Mum house, and there drinking, he do complain of his wife most cruel as the most troublesome woman in the world, and how she will have her will, saying she brought him a portion and God knows what. By which, with many instances more, I perceive they do live a sad life together. Thence to the Mitre and there comes Dr. Burnett to us and Mr. Maes, but the meeting was chiefly to bring the Doctor and me together, and there I began to have his advice about my disease, and then invited him to my house: and I am resolved to put myself into his hands. Here very late, but I drank nothing, nor will, though he do advise me to take care of cold drinks. So home and to bed.

I grow cold while all the world
is ready to melt away

noon cruel as the most
troublesome god

what life I have in my hands
is a cold drink

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 28 June 1664.

Up, and he and I walked to Paul’s Church yard, and there saw Sir Harry Spillman’s book, and I bespoke it and others, and thence we took coach, and he to my Lord’s and I to St. James’s, where we did our usual business, and thence I home and dined, and then by water to Woolwich, and there spent the afternoon till night under pretence of buying Captain Blackman’s house and grounds, and viewing the ground took notice of Clothiers’ cordage with which he, I believe, thinks to cheat the King. That being done I by water home, it being night first, and there I find our new mayd Jane come, a cook mayd.
So to bed.

I saw a book
in the water

a wing
the ground took to eat

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 27 June 1664.

(Lord’s day). Up, and Sir J. Minnes set me down at my Lord Sandwich’s, where I waited till his coming down, when he came, too, could find little to say to me but only a general question or two, and so good-bye. Here his little daughter, my Lady Katharine was brought, who is lately come from my father’s at Brampton, to have her cheek looked after, which is and hath long been sore. But my Lord will rather have it be as it is, with a scarr in her face, than endanger it being worse by tampering. He being gone, I went home, a little troubled to see he minds me no more, and with Creed called at several churches, which, God knows, are supplied with very young men, and the churches very empty.
So home and at our owne church looked in, and there heard one preach whom Sir W. Pen brought, which he desired us yesterday to hear, that had been his chaplin in Ireland, a very silly fellow. So home and to dinner, and after dinner a frolique took us, we would go this afternoon to the Hope; so my wife dressed herself, and, with good victuals and drink, we took boat presently and the tide with us got down, but it was night, and the tide spent by the time we got to Gravesend; so there we stopped, but went not on shore, only Creed, to get some cherries, and send a letter to the Hope, where the Fleete lies. And so, it being rainy, and thundering mightily, and lightning, we returned. By and by the evening turned mighty clear and moonshine; we got with great pleasure home, about twelve o’clock, which did much please us, Creed telling pretty stories in the boat. He lay with me all night.

a question sore as a scar
would go to a good grave
not send a letter to hope

here lies the moon
great as a clock
telling pretty stories

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 26 June 1664.