Chapter II: Part 2

"A Statue by _Phidias_, to clothe in the most beautiful Drapery," sayth _Father_; "no Matter that the Drapery was his own, he wanted to show it to the best Advantage, and to the Honour rather than Prejudice of the Statue. And, having clothed the same, he got a Spark of _Prometheus_ his Fire, and made the aforesayd Statue walk and talk, to the Glory of Gods and Men, and sate himself quietlie down in a Corner. By the Way, _Desiderius_, why shouldst thou not submitt thy Subtletie to the Rules of a Colloquy? Set _Eckius_ and _Martin Luther_ by the Ears! Ha! Man, what Sport! Heavens! if I were to compound a Tale or a Dialogue, what Crotchets and Quips of mine own woulde I not putt into my Puppets' Mouths! and then have out my Laugh behind my Vizard, as when we used to act Burlesques before _Cardinall Morton_. What rare Sporte we had, one Christmas, with a Mummery we called the 'Triall of Feasting'! _Dinner_ and _Supper_ were broughte up before my _Lord Chief Justice_, charged with Murder. Theire Accomplices were _Plum-pudding_, _Mince-pye_, _Surfeit_, _Drunkenness_, and suchlike. Being condemned to hang by the Neck, I, who was _Supper_, stuft out with I cannot tell you how manie Pillows, began to call lustilie for a Confessor, and, on his stepping forthe, commenct a List of all the Fitts, Convulsions, Spasms, Payns in the Head, and so forthe, I had inflicted on this one and t'other. 'Alas! good Father,' says I, '_King John_ layd his Death at my Door;--indeede, there's scarce a royall or noble House that hath not a Charge agaynst me; and I'm sorelie afrayd' (giving a Poke at a fat Priest that sate at my _Lord Cardinall's_ Elbow) 'I shall have the Death of _that_ holy Man to answer for.'"

_Erasmus_ laughed, and sayd, "Did I ever tell you of the retort of _Willibald Pirkheimer_? A Monk, hearing him praise me somewhat lavishly to another, could not avoid expressing by his Looks great Disgust and Dissatisfaction; and, on being askt whence they arose, confest he could not, with Patience, heare the Commendation of a Man soe notoriously fond of eating Fowls. 'Does he steal them?' says _Pirkheimer_. 'Surely no,' says the Monk. 'Why, then,' quoth _Willibald_, 'I know of a Fox who is ten times the greater Rogue; for, look you, he helps himself to many a fat Hen from my Roost without ever offering to pay me. But tell me now, dear Father, is it then a Sin to eat Fowls?' 'Most assuredlie it is,' says the Monk, 'if you indulge in them to Gluttony.' 'Ah! if, if!' quoth _Pirkheimer_. 'If stands stiff, as the _Lacedemonians_ told _Philip_ of _Macedon_; and 'tis not by eating Bread alone, my dear Father, you have acquired that huge Paunch of yours. I fancy, if all the fat Fowls that have gone into it could raise their Voices and cackle at once, they woulde make Noise enow to drown the Drums and Trumpets of an army.' Well may _Luther_ say," continued _Erasmus_, laughing, "that theire fasting is easier to them than our eating to us; seeing that every Man Jack of them hath to his Evening Meal two Quarts of Beer, a Quart of Wine, and as manie as he can eat of Spice Cakes, the better to relish his Drink. While I ... 'tis true my Stomach is Lutheran, but my Heart is Catholic; that's as Heaven made me, and I'll be judged by you alle, whether I am not as thin as a Weasel."

'Twas now growing dusk, and _Cecy's_ tame Hares were just beginning to be on the alert, skipping across our Path, as we returned towards the House, jumping over one another, and raysing 'emselves on theire hind Legs to solicitt our Notice. _Erasmus_ was amused at theire Gambols, and at our making them beg for Vine-tendrils; and _Father_ told him there was hardlie a Member of the Householde who had not a dumb Pet of some Sort. "I encourage the Taste in them," he sayd, "not onlie because it fosters Humanitie and affords harmlesse Recreation, but because it promotes Habitts of Forethoughte and Regularitie. No Child or Servant of mine hath Liberty to adopt a Pet which he is too lazy or nice to attend to himself. A little Management may enable even a young Gentlewoman to do this, without soyling her Hands; and to negleckt giving them proper Food at proper Times entayls a Disgrace of which everie one of 'em would be ashamed. But, hark! there is the Vesper-bell."

As we passed under a Pear-tree, _Erasmus_ told us, with much Drollerie, of a Piece of boyish Mischief of his,--the Theft of some Pears off a particular Tree, the Fruit of which the Superior of his Convent had meant to reserve to himself. One Morning, _Erasmus_ had climbed the Tree, and was feasting to his great Content, when he was aware of the Superior approaching to catch him in the Fact; soe, quickly slid down to the Ground, and made off in the opposite Direction, limping as he went. The Malice of this Act consisted in its being the Counterfeit of the Gait of a poor lame Lay Brother, who was, in fact, smartlie punisht for _Erasmus_ his Misdeede. Our Friend mentioned this with a Kinde of Remorse, and observed to my _Father_,--"Men laugh at the Sins of young People and little Children, as if they were little Sins; albeit, the Robbery of an Apple or Cherry-orchard is as much a breaking of the Eighth Commandment as the stealing of a Leg of Mutton from a Butcher's Stall, and ofttimes with far less Excuse. Our Church tells us, indeede, of Venial Sins, such as the Theft of an Apple or a Pin; but, I think," (looking hard at _Cecilie_ and _Jack_,) "even the youngest among us could tell how much Sin and Sorrow was brought into the World by stealing an Apple."

At Bedtime, _Bess_ and I did agree in wishing that alle learned Men were as apt to unite Pleasure with Profit in theire Talk as _Erasmus_. There be some that can write after the Fashion of Paul, and others preach like unto Apollos; but this, methinketh, is scattering Seed by the Wayside, like the Great Sower.

_Tuesday._

'Tis singular, the Love that _Jack_ and _Cecy_ have for one another; it resembleth that of Twins. _Jack_ is not forward at his Booke; on the other Hand, he hath a Resolution of Character which _Cecy_ altogether wants. Last Night, when _Erasmus_ spake of Children's Sins, I observed her squeeze _Jack's_ Hand with alle her Mighte. I know what she was thinking of. Having bothe beene forbidden to approach a favourite Part of the River Bank which had given way from too much Use, one or the other of 'em transgressed, as was proven by the smalle Footprints in the Mud, as well as by a Nosegay of Flowers, that grow not, save by the River; to wit, Purple Loosestrife, Cream-and-codlins, Scorpion-grass, Water Plantain, and the like. Neither of 'em woulde confesse, and _Jack_ was, therefore, sentenced to be whipt. As he walked off with Mr. _Drew_, I observed _Cecy_ turn soe pale, that I whispered _Father_ I was certayn she was guilty. He made Answer, "Never mind, we cannot beat a Girl, and 'twill answer the same Purpose; in flogging him, we flog both." _Jack_ bore the firste Stripe or two, I suppose, well enow, but at lengthe we hearde him cry out, on which _Cecy_ coulde not forbeare to doe the same, and then stopt bothe her Ears. I expected everie Moment to heare her say, "_Father_, 'twas I;" but no, she had not Courage for that; onlie, when _Jack_ came forthe all smirched with Tears, she put her Arm about his Neck, and they walked off together into the Nuttery. Since that Hour, she hath beene more devoted to him than ever, if possible; and he, Boy-like, finds Satisfaction in making her his little Slave. But the Beauty lay in my _Father's_ Improvement of the Circumstance. Taking _Cecy_ on his Knee that Evening, (for she was not ostensiblie in Disgrace,) he beganne to talk of Atonement and Mediation for Sin, and who it was that bare our Sins for us on the Tree. 'Tis thus he turns the daylie Accidents of our quiet Lives into Lessons of deepe Import, not pedanticallie delivered, _ex cathedrâ_, but welling forthe from a full and fresh Mind.

This Morn I had risen before Dawn, being minded to meditate on sundrie Matters before _Bess_ was up and doing, she being given to much Talk during her dressing, and made my Way to the Pavilion, where, methought, I should be quiet enow; but beholde! _Father_ and _Erasmus_ were there before me, in fluent and earneste Discourse. I would have withdrawne, but _Father_, without interrupting his Sentence, puts his Arm rounde me and draweth me to him; soe there I sit, my Head on 's Shoulder, and mine Eyes on _Erasmus_ his Face.

From much they spake, and othermuch I guessed, they had beene conversing on the present State of the Church, and how much it needed Renovation.

_Erasmus_ sayd, the Vices of the Clergy and Ignorance of the Vulgar had now come to a Poynt, at the which, a Remedie must be founde, or the whole Fabric would falle to Pieces.

--Sayd, the Revival of Learning seemed appoynted by Heaven for some greate Purpose, 'twas difficulte to say how greate.

--Spake of the new Art of Printing, and its possible Consequents.

--Of the active and fertile Minds at present turning up new Ground and ferreting out old Abuses.

--Of the Abuse of Monachism, and of the evil Lives of Conventualls. In special, of the Fanaticism and Hypocrisie of the Dominicans.

Considered the Evills of the Times such, as that Societie must shortlie, by a vigorous Effort, shake 'em off.

Wondered at the Patience of the Laitie for soe many Generations, but thoughte 'em now waking from theire Sleepe. The People had of late begunne to know theire physickall Power, and to chafe at the Weighte of theire Yoke.

Thoughte the Doctrine of Indulgences altogether bad and false.

_Father_ sayd, that the graduallie increast Severitie of Church Discipline concerning minor Offences had become such as to render Indulgences the needfulle Remedie for Burthens too heavie to be borne.--Condemned a Draconic Code, that visitted even Sins of Discipline with the extream Penaltie. Quoted how ill such excessive Severitie answered in our owne Land, with regard to the Civill Law; twenty Thieves oft hanging together on the same Gibbet, yet Robberie noe Whit abated.

Othermuch to same Purport, the which, if alle set downe, woulde too soon fill my Libellus. At length, unwillinglie brake off, when the Bell rang us to Matins.

At Breakfaste, _William_ and _Rupert_ were earneste with my _Father_ to let 'em row him to _Westminster_, which he was disinclined to, as he was for more Speede, and had promised _Erasmus_ an earlie Caste to _Lambeth_; howbeit, he consented that they should pull us up to _Putney_ in the Evening, and _William_ should have the Stroke-oar. _Erasmus_ sayd, he must thank the _Archbishop_ for his Present of a Horse; "tho' I'm full faine," he observed, "to believe it a Changeling. He is idle and gluttonish, as thin as a Wasp, and as ugly as Sin. Such a Horse, and such a Rider!"

In the Evening _Will_ and _Rupert_ had made 'emselves spruce enow, with Nosegays and Ribbons, and we tooke Water bravelie;--_John Harris_ in the Stern, playing the Recorder. We had the six-oared Barge; and when _Rupert Allington_ was tired of pulling, Mr. _Clement_ tooke his Oar; and when _he_ wearied, _John Harris_ gave over playing the Pipe; but _William_ and Mr. _Gunnel_ never flagged.

_Erasmus_ was full of his Visitt to the _Archbishop_, who, as usuall, I think, had given him some Money.

"We sate down two hundred to Table," sayth he; "there was Fish, Flesh, and Fowl; but _Wareham_ onlie played with his Knife, and drank noe Wine. He was very cheerfulle and accessible; he knows not what Pride is; and yet, of how much mighte he be proude! What Genius! What Erudition! what Kindnesse and Modesty! From _Wareham_, who ever departed in Sorrow?"

Landing at _Fulham_, we had a brave Ramble thro' the Meadows. _Erasmus_, noting the poor Children a gathering the Dandelion and Milk-thistle for the Herb-market, was avised to speak of forayn Herbes and theire Uses, bothe for Food and Medicine.

"For me," says _Father_, "there is manie a Plant I entertayn in my Garden and Paddock which the Fastidious woulde caste forthe. I like to teache my Children the Uses of common Things--to know, for Instance, the Uses of the Flowers and Weeds that grow in our Fields and Hedges. Manie a poor Knave's Pottage woulde be improved, if he were skilled in the Properties of the Burdock and Purple Orchis, Lady's-smock, Brook-lime, and Old Man's Pepper. The Roots of Wild Succory and Water Arrow-head mighte agreeablie change his Lenten Diet; and Glasswort afford him a Pickle for his Mouthfulle of Salt-meat. Then, there are Cresses and Wood-sorrel to his Breakfast, and Salep for his hot evening Mess. For his Medicine, there is Herb-twopence, that will cure a hundred Ills; Camomile, to lull a raging Tooth; and the Juice of Buttercup to cleare his Head by sneezing. Vervain cureth Ague; and Crowfoot affords the leaste painfulle of Blisters. St. _Anthony's_ Turnip is an Emetic; Goose-grass sweetens the Blood; Woodruffe is good for the Liver; and Bindweed hath nigh as much Virtue as the forayn Scammony. Pimpernel promoteth Laughter; and Poppy, Sleep: Thyme giveth pleasant Dreams; and an Ashen Branch drives evil Spirits from the Pillow. As for Rosemarie, I lett it run alle over my Garden Walls, not onlie because my Bees love it, but because 'tis the Herb sacred to Remembrance, and, therefore, to Friendship, whence a Sprig of it hath a dumb Language that maketh it the chosen Emblem at our Funeral Wakes, and in our Buriall Grounds. Howbeit, I am a Schoolboy prating in Presence of his Master, for here is _John Clement_ at my Elbow, who is the best Botanist and Herbalist of us all."

--Returning Home, the Youths being warmed with rowing, and in high Spiritts, did entertayn themselves and us with manie Jests and Playings upon Words, some of 'em forced enow, yet provocative of Laughing. Afterwards, Mr. _Gunnel_ proposed Enigmas and curious Questions. Among others, he woulde know which of the famous Women of Greece or Rome we Maidens would resemble. _Bess_ was for _Cornelia_, _Daisy_ for _Clelia_, but I for _Damo_, Daughter of _Pythagoras_, which _William Roper_ deemed stupid enow, and thoughte I mighte have found as good a Daughter, that had not died a Maid. Sayth _Erasmus_, with his sweet, inexpressible Smile, "Now I will tell you, Lads and Lasses, what manner of Man _I_ would be, if I were not _Erasmus_. I woulde step back some few Years of my Life, and be half-way 'twixt thirty and forty; I would be pious and profounde enow for the Church, albeit noe Churchman; I woulde have a blythe, stirring, English Wife, and half-a-dozen merrie Girls and Boys, an English Homestead, neither Hall nor Farm, but betweene both; neare enow to the Citie for Convenience, but away from its Noise. I woulde have a Profession, that gave me some Hours daylie of regular Businesse, that should let Men know my Parts, and court me into Publick Station, for which my Taste made me rather withdrawe. I woulde have such a private Independence, as should enable me to give and lend, rather than beg and borrow. I woulde encourage Mirthe without Buffoonerie, Ease without Negligence; my Habitt and Table shoulde be simple, and for my Looks I woulde be neither tall nor short, fat nor lean, rubicund nor sallow, but of a fayr Skin with blue Eyes, brownish Beard, and a Countenance engaging and attractive, soe that alle of my Companie coulde not choose but love me."

"Why, then, you woulde be _Father_ himselfe," cries _Cecy_, clasping his Arm in bothe her Hands with a Kind of Rapture; and, indeede, the Portraiture was soe like, we coulde not but smile at the Resemblance.

Arrived at the Landing, _Father_ protested he was wearie with his Ramble; and, his Foot slipping, he wrenched his Ankle, and sate for an Instante on a Barrow, the which one of the Men had left with his Garden-tools, and before he could rise or cry out, _William_, laughing, rolled him up to the House-door; which, considering _Father's_ Weight, was much for a Stripling to doe. _Father_ sayd the same, and, laying his Hand on _Will's_ Shoulder with Kindnesse, cried, "Bless thee, my Boy, but I woulde not have thee overstrayned like _Biton_ and _Cleobis_."

_June 20._

This Morn, hinting to _Bess_ that she was lacing herselfe too straitlie, she brisklie replyed, "One would think 'twere as great Meritt to have a thick Waiste as to be one of the earlie Christians!"

These humourous Retorts are ever at her Tongue's end; and albeit, as _Jacky_ one Day angrilie remarked when she had beene teazing him, "_Bess_, thy Witt is Stupidnesse;" yet, for one who talks soe much at Random, no one can be more keene when she chooseth. _Father_ sayd of her, half fondly, half apologeticallie, to _Erasmus_, "Her Wit hath a fine Subtletie that eludes you almoste before you have Time to recognize it for what it really is." To which _Erasmus_ readilie assented, adding, that it had the rare Meritt of playing less on Persons than Things, and never on bodilie Defects.

Hum!--I wonder if they ever sayd as much in Favour of me. I know, indeede, _Erasmus_ calls me a forward Girl. Alas! that may be taken in two Senses.

Grievous Work, overnighte, with the churning. Nought would persuade _Gillian_ but that the Creame was bewitched by _Gammer Gurney_, who was dissatisfyde last Friday with her Dole, and hobbled away mumping and cursing. At alle Events, the Butter would not come; but _Mother_ was resolute not to have soe much good Creame wasted; soe sent for _Bess_ and me, _Daisy_ and _Mercy Giggs_; and insisted on our churning in turn till the Butter came, if we sate up alle Night for 't. 'Twas a hard Saying; and mighte have hampered her like as _Jephtha_ his rash Vow: howbeit, soe soone as she had left us, we turned it into a Frolick, and sang _Chevy Chase_ from end to end, to beguile Time; ne'erthelesse, the Butter would not come; soe then we grew sober, and, at the Instance of sweete _Mercy_, chaunted the 119th Psalme; and, by the Time we had attained to "_Lucerna Pedibus_," I hearde the Buttermilk separating and splashing in righte earneste. 'Twas neare Midnighte, however; and _Daisy_ had fallen asleep on the Dresser. _Gillian_ will ne'er be convinced but that our Latin brake the Spell.

_21st._

_Erasmus_ went to _Richmond_ this Morning with _Polus_, (for soe he Latinizes _Reginald Pole_, after his usual Fashion,) and some other of his Friends. On his Return, he made us laugh at the following. They had clomb the Hill, and were admiring the Prospect, when _Pole_, casting his Eyes aloft, and beginning to make sundrie Gesticulations, exclaimed, "What is it I beholde? May Heaven avert the Omen!" with suchlike Exclamations, which raised the Curiositie of alle. "Don't you beholde," cries he, "that enormous Dragon flying through the Sky? his Horns of Fire? his curly Tail?"

"No," says _Erasmus_, "nothing like it. The Sky is as cleare as unwritten Paper."

Howbeit, he continued to affirme and to stare, untill at lengthe, one after another, by dint of strayning theire Eyes and theire Imaginations, did admitt, first, that they saw Something; next, that it mighte be a Dragon; and last, that it was. Of course, on theire Passage homeward, they could talk of little else--some made serious Reflections; others, philosophicall Speculations; and _Pole_ waggishly triumphed in having beene the Firste to discerne the Spectacle.

"And you trulie believe there was a Signe in the Heavens?" we inquired of _Erasmus_.

"What know I?" returned he smiling; "you know, _Constantine_ saw a Cross. Why shoulde _Polus_ not see a Dragon? We must judge by the Event. Perhaps its Mission may be to fly away with _him_. He swore to the curly Tail."

How difficulte it is to discerne the supernatural from the incredible! We laughe at _Gillian's_ Faith in our Latin; _Erasmus_ laughs at _Polus_ his Dragon. Have we a righte to believe noughte but what we can see or prove? Nay, that will never doe. _Father_ says a Capacitie for reasoning increaseth a Capacitie for believing. He believes there is such a Thing as Witchcraft, though not that poore olde _Gammer Gurney_ is a Witch; he believes that Saints can work Miracles, though not in alle the Marvels reported of the _Canterbury_ Shrine.

Had I beene Justice of the Peace, like the King's Grandmother, I would have beene very jealous of Accusations of Witchcraft; and have taken infinite Payns to sift out the Causes of Malice, Jealousie, &c., which mighte have wroughte with the poore olde Women's Enemies. _Holie Writ_ sayth, "Thou shalt not suffer a Witch to live;" but, questionlesse, manie have suffered Hurte that were noe Witches; and for my Part, I have alwaies helde ducking to be a very uncertayn as well as very cruel Teste.

I cannot helpe smiling, whenever I think of my Rencounter with _William_ this Morning. Mr. _Gunnell_ had set me _Homer's_ tiresome List of Ships; and, because of the excessive Heate within Doors, I took my Book into the Nuttery, to be beyonde the Wrath of far-darting _Phoebus Apollo_, where I clomb into my favourite Filbert Seat. Anon comes _William_ through the Trees without seeing me; and seats him at the Foot of my Filbert; then, out with his Tablets, and, in a Posture I should have called studdied, had he known anie one within Sighte, falls a poetizing, I question not. Having noe Mind to be interrupted, I lett him be, thinking he would soone exhaust the Vein; but a Caterpillar dropping from the Leaves on to my Page, I was fayn, for Mirthe sake, to shake it down on his Tablets. As ill Luck would have it, however, the little Reptile onlie fell among his Curls; which soe took me at Vantage that I coulde not helpe hastilie crying, "I beg your Pardon." 'Twas worth a World to see his Start! "Why!" cries he, looking up, "are there indeede _Hamadryads_?" and would have gallanted a little, but I bade him hold down his Head, while that with a Twig I switched off the Caterpillar. Neither coulde forbeare laughing; and then he sued me to step downe, but I was minded to abide where I was. Howbeit, after a Minute's Pause, he sayd, in a grave, kind Tone, "Come, little Wife;" and taking mine Arm steadilie in his Hand, I lost my Balance and was faine to come down whether or noe. We walked for some Time _juxta Fluvium_; and he talked not badlie of his Travels, insomuch as I founde there was really more in him than one would think.

--Was there ever Aniething soe perverse, unluckie, and downrighte disagreeable? We hurried our Afternoone Tasks, to goe on the Water with my _Father_; and, meaning to give Mr. _Gunnel_ my _Latin_ Traduction, which is in a Booke like unto this, I never knew he had my Journalle insteade, untill that he burst out a laughing. "Soe this is the famous _Libellus_," quoth he.... I never waited for another Word, but snatcht it out of his Hand; which he, for soe strict a Man, bore well enow. I do not believe he could have read a Dozen Lines, and they were towards the Beginning; but I should hugelie like to know which Dozen Lines they were.

Hum! I have a Mind never to write another Word. That will be punishing myselfe, though, insteade of _Gunnel_. And he bade me not take it to Heart like the late _Bishop of Durham_, to whom a like Accident befel, which soe annoyed him that he died of Chagrin. I will never again, howbeit, write Aniething savouring ever soe little of Levitie or Absurditie. The Saints keepe me to it! And, to know it from my Exercise Book, I will henceforthe bind a blue Ribbon round it. Furthermore, I will knit the sayd Ribbon in soe close a Knot, that it shall be worth no one else's Payns to pick it out. Lastlie, and for entire Securitie, I will carry the Same in my Pouch, which will hold bigger Matters than this.

_22nd._

This Daye, at Dinner, Mr. _Clement_ tooke the Pistoller's Place at the Reading-desk; and, insteade of continuing the Subject in Hand, read a Paraphrase of the 103rde Psalm; the Faithfulnesse and elegant Turne of which, _Erasmus_ highlie commended, though he took Exceptions to the Phrase "renewing thy Youth like that of the Phoenix," whose fabulous Story he believed to have beene unknowne to the Psalmist, and, therefore, however poeticall, unfitt to be introduced. A deepe Blush on sweet _Mercy's_ Face ledd to the Detection of the Paraphrast, and drew on her some deserved Commendations. _Erasmus_, turning to my _Father_, exclaymed with Animation, "I woulde call this House the Academy of _Plato_, were it not Injustice to compare it to a Place where the usuall Disputations concerning Figures and Numbers were onlie occasionallie intersperst with Disquisitions concerning the moral Virtues." Then, in a graver Mood, he added, "One mighte envie you, but that your precious Privileges are bound up with soe paynfulle Anxieties. How manie Pledges have you given to Fortune!"

"If my Children are to die out of the Course of Nature, before theire Parents," _Father_ firmly replyed, "I would rather they died well-instructed than ignorant."

"You remind me," rejoyns _Erasmus_, "of _Phocion_; whose Wife, when he was aboute to drink the fatal Cup, exclaimed, 'Ah, my Husband! you die innocent.' 'And woulde you, my Wife,' he returned, 'have me die guilty?'"

Awhile after, _Gonellus_ askt leave to see _Erasmus_ his Signet-ring, which he handed down to him. In passing it back, _William_, who was occupyde in carving a Crane, handed it so negligentlie that it felle to the Ground. I never saw such a Face as _Erasmus_ made, when 'twas picked out from the Rushes! And yet, ours are renewed almost daylie, which manie think over nice. He took it gingerlie in his faire, Woman-like Hands, and washed and wiped it before he put it on; which escaped not my Step-mother's displeased notice. Indeede, these _Dutchmen_ are scrupulouslie cleane, though _Mother_ calls 'em swinish, because they will eat raw Sallets; though, for that Matter, _Father_ loves Cresses and Ramps. She alsoe mislikes _Erasmus_ for eating Cheese and Butter together with his Manchet; or what he calls _Boetram_; and for being, generallie, daintie at his Sizes, which she sayth is an ill Example to soe manie young People, and becometh not one with soe little Money in 's Purse: howbeit, I think 'tis not Nicetie, but a weak Stomach, which makes him loathe our Salt-meat Commons from Michaelmasse to Easter, and eschew Fish of the coarser Sort. He cannot breakfaste on colde Milk, like _Father_, but liketh Furmity a little spiced. At Dinner, he pecks at, rather than eats, Ruffs and Reeves, Lapwings, or anie smalle Birds it may chance; but affects Sweets and Subtilties, and loves a Cup of Wine or Ale, stirred with Rosemary. _Father_ never toucheth the Wine-cup but to grace a Guest, and loves Water from the Spring. We growing Girls eat more than either; and _Father_ says he loves to see us slice away at the Cob-loaf; it does him goode. What a kind Father he is! I wish my _Step-mother_ were as kind. I hate all sneaping and snubbing, flowting, fleering, pinching, nipping, and such-like; it onlie creates Resentment insteade of Penitence, and lowers the Minde of either Partie. _Gillian_ throws a Rolling-pin at the Turnspit's Head, and we call it Low-life; but we looke for such Unmannerlinesse in the Kitchen. A Whip is onlie fit for _Tisiphone_.

As we rose from Table, I noted _Argus_ pearcht on the Window-sill, eagerlie watching for his Dinner, which he looketh for as punctuallie as if he could tell the Diall; and to please the good, patient Bird, till the Scullion broughte him his Mess of Garden-stuff, I fetched him some Pulse, which he took from mine Hand, taking good Heede not to hurt me with his sharp Beak. While I was feeding him, _Erasmus_ came up, and asked me concerning _Mercy Giggs_; and I tolde him how that she was a friendlesse Orphan, to whom deare _Father_ afforded Protection and the run of the House; and tolde him of her Gratitude, her Meekness, her Patience, her Docilitie, her Aptitude for alle goode Works and Alms-deeds; and how, in her little Chamber, she improved eache spare Moment in the Way of Studdy and Prayer. He repeated "Friendlesse? she cannot be called Friendlesse, who hath _More_ for her Protector, and his Children for Companions;" and then woulde heare more of her Parents' sad Story. Alsoe, would hear somewhat of _Rupert Allington_, and how _Father_ gained his Lawsuit. Alsoe, of _Daisy_, whose Name he tooke to be the true Abbreviation for _Margaret_, but I tolde him how that my Step-sister, and _Mercy_, and I, being all three of a Name, and I being alwaies called _Meg_, we had in Sport given one the Significative of her characteristic Virtue, and the other that of the French _Marguerite_, which may indeed be rendered either Pearl or Daisy. And _Chaucer_, speaking of our English Daisy, saith

"_Si douce est la Marguerite._"

_23rd._

Since the little Wisdom I have Capacitie to acquire, soe oft gives me the Headache to Distraction, I marvel not at _Jupiter's_ Payn in his Head, when the Goddess of Wisdom sprang therefrom full growne.

* * * * *

This Morn, to quiet the Payn brought on by too busie Application, Mr. _Gunnel_ would have me close my Book and ramble forth with _Cecy_ into the Fields. We strolled towards _Walham Greene_; and she was seeking for Shepherd's Purses and Shepherd's Needles, when she came running back to me, looking rather pale. I askt what had scared her, and she made answer that _Gammer Gurney_ was coming along the Hedge. I bade her set aside her Feares; and anon we came up with _Gammer_, who was pulling at the purple Blossoms of the Deadly Nightshade. I sayd, "_Gammer_, to what Purpose gather that Weed? knowest not 'tis Evill?"

She sayth, mumbling, "What GOD hath created, that call not thou evill."

"Well, but," quo' I, "'tis Poison."

"Aye, and Medicine too," returns _Gammer_. "I wonder what we poor Souls might come to, if we tooke Nowt for our Ails and Aches but what we could buy o' the Potticary. We've got noe Dr. _Clement_, we poor Folks, to be our Leech o' the Household."

"But hast no Feare," quo' I, "of an Over-dose?"

"There's manie a Doctor," sayth she, with an unpleasant Leer, "that hath given that at first. In Time he gets his Hand in; and I've had a Plenty o' Practice--Thanks to Self and Sister."

"I knew not," quoth I, "that thou hadst a Sister."

"How should ye, Mistress," returns she shortlie, "when ye never comes nigh us? We've grubbed on together this many a Year."

"'Tis soe far," I returned, half ashamed.

"Why, soe it be," answers _Gammer_; "far from Neighbours, far from Church, and far from Priest; howbeit, my old Legs carries me to _your_ House o' Fridays; but I know not whether I shall e'er come agayn--the Rye Bread was soe hard last Time; it may serve for young Teeth, and for them as has got none; but mine, you see, are onlie on the _goe_;" and she opened her Mouth with a ghastly Smile. "'Tis not," she added, "that I'm ungratefulle; but thou sees, Mistress, I really _can't_ eat Crusts."

After a Moment, I asked, "Where lies your Dwelling?"

"Out by yonder," quoth she, pointing to a shapeless Mass like a huge Bird's Nest in the Corner of the Field. "There bides poor _Joan_ and I. Wilt come and looke within, Mistress, and see how a Christian can die?"

I mutelie complyed, in spite of _Cecy's_ pulling at my Skirts. Arrived at the wretched Abode, which had a Hole for its Chimney, and another for Door at once and Window, I found, sitting in a Corner, propped on a Heap of Rushes, dried Leaves, and olde Rags, an aged sick Woman, who seemed to have but a little While to live. A Mug of Water stoode within her Reach; I saw none other Sustenance; but, in her Visage, oh, such Peace!... Whispers _Gammer_ with an awfulle Look, "She sees 'em now!"

"Sees who?" quoth I.

"Why, Angels in two long Rows, afore the Throne of GOD, a bending of themselves, this Way, with theire Faces to th' Earth, and Arms stretched out afore 'em."

"Hath she seen a Priest?" quoth I.

"LORD love ye," returns _Gammer_, "what coulde a Priest doe for her? She's in Heaven alreadie. I doubte if she can heare me." And then, in a loud, distinct Voyce, quite free from her usuall Mumping, she beganne to recite in _English_, "Blessed is every one that feareth the LORD, and walketh in his Ways," etc.; which the dying Woman hearde, although alreadie speechlesse; and reaching out her feeble Arm unto her Sister's Neck, she dragged it down till their Faces touched; and then, looking up, pointed at Somewhat she aimed to make her see ... and we alle looked up, but saw Noughte. Howbeit, she pointed up three severall Times, and lay, as it were, transfigured before us, a gazing at some transporting Sighte, and ever and anon turning on her Sister Looks of Love; and, the While we stoode thus agaze, her Spiritt passed away without even a Thrill or a Shudder. _Cecy_ and I beganne to weepe; and, after a While, soe did _Gammer_; then, putting us forthe, she sayd, "Goe, Children, goe; 'tis noe goode crying; and yet I'm thankfulle to ye for your Teares."

I sayd, "Is there Aught we can doe for thee?"

She made Answer, "Perhaps you can give me Tuppence, Mistress, to lay on her poor Eyelids and keep 'em down. Bless 'ee, bless 'ee! You're like the good Samaritan--he pulled out Twopence. And maybe, if I come to 'ee To-morrow, you'll give me a Lapfulle of Rosemarie, to lay on her poor Corpse.... I know you've Plenty. GOD be with 'ee, Children; and be sure ye mind how a Christian can die."

Soe we left, and came Home sober enow. _Cecy_ sayth, "To die is not soe fearfulle, _Meg_, as I thoughte, but shoulde _you_ fancy dying without a Priest? I shoulde not; and yet _Gammer_ sayd she wanted not one. Howbeit, for certayn, _Gammer Gurney_ is noe Witch, or she would not soe prayse GOD."

To conclude, _Father_, on hearing Alle, hath given _Gammer_ more than enow for her present Needes; and _Cecy_ and I are the Almoners of his Mercy.

_June 24th._

Yesternighte, being _St. John's Eve_, we went into Town to see the mustering of the Watch. Mr. _Rastall_ had secured us a Window opposite the _King's Head_, in _Chepe_, where theire Majestys went in State to see the Show. The Streets were a Marvell to see, being like unto a Continuation of fayr Bowres or Arbours, garlanded acrosse and over the Doors with greene Birch, long Fennel, Orpin, St. _John's_ Wort, white Lilies, and such like; with innumerable Candles intersperst, the which, being lit up as soon as 'twas Dusk, made the Whole look like enchanted Land; while, at the same Time, the leaping over Bon-fires commenced, and produced Shouts of Laughter. The Youths woulde have had _Father_ goe downe and joyn 'em; _Rupert_, speciallie, begged him hard, but he put him off with, "Sirrah, you Goose-cap, dost think 'twoulde befitt the Judge of the _Sheriffs' Court_?"

At length, to the Sound of Trumpets, came marching up _Cheapside_ two Thousand of the Watch, in white Fustian, with the City Badge; and seven hundred Cressett Bearers, eache with his Fellow to supplie him with Oyl, and making, with theire flaring Lights, the Night as cleare as Daye. After 'em, the Morris-dancers and City Waites; the Lord Mayor on horseback, very fine, with his Giants and Pageants; and the Sheriff and his Watch, and _his_ Giants and Pageants. The Streets very uproarious on our way back to the Barge, but the homeward Passage delicious; the Nighte Ayre cool; and the Stars shining brightly. _Father_ and _Erasmus_ had some astronomick Talk; howbeit, methoughte _Erasmus_ less familiar with the heavenlie Bodies than _Father_ is. Afterwards they spake of the King, but not over-freelie, by reason of the Bargemen overhearing. Thence, to the ever-vext Question of _Martin Luther_, of whome _Erasmus_ spake in Terms of earneste, yet qualifyde Prayse.

"If _Luther_ be innocent," quoth he, "I woulde not run him down by a wicked Faction; if he be in Error, I woulde rather have him reclaymed than destroyed; for this is most agreeable to the Doctrine of our deare Lord and Master, who woulde not bruise the broken Reede, nor quenche the smoking Flax." And much more to same Purpose.

We younger Folks felle to choosing our favourite Mottoes and Devices, in which the Elders at length joyned us. _Mother's_ was loyal--"Cleave to the Crown though it hang on a Bush." _Erasmus's_ pithie--"_Festina lente._" _William_ sayd he was indebted for his to St. _Paul_--"I seeke not yours, but you." For me, I quoted one I had seene in an olde Countrie Church, "_Mieux être que paroître_," which pleased _Father_ and _Erasmus_ much.

_June 25th._

Poor _Erasmus_ caughte colde on the Water last Nighte, and keeps House to-daye, taking warm Possets. 'Tis my Week of Housekeeping under Mother's Guidance, and I never had more Pleasure in it; delighting to suit his Taste in sweete Things, which, methinks, all Men like. I have enow of Time left for Studdy, when alle's done.

He hathe beene the best Part of the Morning in our Academia, looking over Books and Manuscripts, taking Notes of some, discoursing with Mr. _Gunnel_ on others; and, in some Sorte, interrupting our Morning's Work; but how pleasantlie! Besides, as _Father_ sayth, "Varietie is not always Interruption. That which occasionallie lets and hinders our accustomed Studdies, may prove to the ingenious noe less profitable than theire Studdies themselves."

They beganne with discussing the Pronunciation of Latin and Greek, on which _Erasmus_ differeth much from us, though he holds to our Pronunciation of the _Theta_. Thence, to the absurde Partie of the _Ciceronians_ now in _Italie_, who will admit noe Author save _Tully_ to be read nor quoted, nor any Word not in his Writings to be used. Thence to the Latinitie of the _Fathers_, of whose Style he spake slightlie enow, but rated _Jerome_ above _Augustine_. At length, to his _Greek_ and _Latin Testament_, of late issued from the Presse, and the incredible Labour it hath cost him to make it as perfect as possible: on this Subject he so warmed that _Bess_ and I listened with suspended Breath. "May it please GOD," sayth he, knitting ferventlie his Hands, "to make it a Blessing to all Christendom! I look for noe other Reward. Scholars and Believers yet unborn may have Reason to thank, and yet may forget _Erasmus_." He then went on to explain to _Gunnel_ what he had much felt in want of, and hoped some Scholar might yet undertake; to wit, a Sort of _Index Bibliorum_, showing in how manie Passages of Holy Writ occurreth anie given Word, etc.; and he e'en proposed it to _Gunnel_, saying 'twas onlie the Work of Patience and Industry, and mighte be layd aside, and resumed as Occasion offered, and completed at Leisure, to the great Thankfullenesse of Scholars. But _Gunnel_ onlie smiled and shooke his Head. Howbeit, _Erasmus_ set forth his Scheme soe playnlie, that I, having a Pen in Hand, did privilie note down alle the Heads of the same, thinking, if none else would undertake it, why should not I? since Leisure and Industrie were alone required, and since 'twoulde be soe acceptable to manie, 'speciallie to _Erasmus_.

_June 29th._

Hearde _Mother_ say to _Barbara_, "Be sure the Sirloin is well basted for the King's Physician;" which avised me that Dr. _Linacre_ was expected. In Truth, he returned with _Father_ in the Barge; and they tooke a Turn on the River Bank before sitting down to Table. I noted them from my Lattice; and anon, _Father_, beckoning me, cries, "Child, bring out my favourite Treatyse on Fisshynge, printed by _Wynkyn de Worde_; I must give the Doctor my loved Passage."

Joyning 'em with the Booke, I found _Father_ telling him of the Roach, Dace, Chub, Barbel, etc., we oft catch opposite the Church; and hastilie turning over the Leaves, he beginneth with Unction to read the Passage ensuing, which I love to the full as much as he:--

He observeth, if the Angler's Sport shoulde fail him, "he at the best hathe his holsom Walk and mery at his Ease, a swete Ayre of the swete Savour of the Meade of Flowers, that maketh him hungry; he heareth the melodious Harmonie of Fowles, he seeth the young Swans, Herons, Ducks, Cotes, and manie other Fowles, with theire Broods, which me seemeth better than alle the Noise of Hounds, Faukenors, and Fowlers can make. And if the Angler take Fysshe, then there is noe Man merrier than he is in his Spryte." And, "Ye shall not use this foresaid crafty Disporte for no covetysnesse in the encreasing and sparing of your Money onlie, but pryncipallie for your Solace, and to cause the Health of your Bodie, and speciallie of your Soule, for when ye purpose to goe on your Disportes of Fysshynge, ye will not desire greatlie manie Persons with you, which woulde lett you of your Game. And thenne ye may serve GOD devoutlie, in saying affectuouslie your customable Prayer; and thus doing, ye shall eschew and voyd manie Vices."

"Angling is itselfe a Vice," cries _Erasmus_, from the Thresholde; "for my Part I will fish none, save and except for pickled Oysters."

"In the Regions below," answers _Father_; and then laughinglie tells _Linacre_ of his firste Dialogue with _Erasmus_, who had beene feasting in my Lord Mayor's Cellar:--"'Whence come you?' 'From below.' 'What were they about there?' 'Eating live Oysters, and drinking out of Leather Jacks.' 'Either you are _Erasmus_,' etc. 'Either you are _More_ or Nothing.'"

"'Neither more nor less,' you should have rejoyned," sayth the Doctor.

"How I wish I had!" says _Father_; "don't torment me with a Jest I might have made and did not make; 'speciallie to put downe _Erasmus_."

"_Concedo nulli_," sayth _Erasmus_.

"Why are you so lazy?" asks _Linacre_; "I am sure you can speak English if you will."

"Soe far from it," sayth _Erasmus_, "that I made my Incapacitie an Excuse for declining an English Rectory. Albeit, you know how _Wareham_ requited me; saying, in his kind, generous Way, I served the Church more by my Pen than I coulde by preaching Sermons in a countrie Village."

Sayth _Linacre_, "The Archbishop hath made another Remark, as much to the Purpose: to wit, that he has received from you the Immortalitie which Emperors and Kings cannot bestow."

"They cannot even bid a smoking Sirloin retain its Heat an Hour after it hath left the Fire," sayth _Father_. "Tilly-vally! as my good _Alice_ says,--let us remember the universal Doom, '_Fruges consumere nati_,' and philosophize over our Ale and Bracket."

"Not _Cambridge_ Ale, neither," sayth _Erasmus_.

"Will you never forget that unlucky Beverage?" sayth _Father_. "Why, Man, think how manie poor Scholars there be, that content themselves, as I have hearde one of St. _John's_ declare, with a penny piece of Beef amongst four, stewed into Pottage with a little Salt and Oatmeal; and that after fasting from four o'clock in the Morning! Say Grace for us this Daye, _Erasmus_, with goode Heart."

At Table, Discourse flowed soe thicke and faste that I mighte aim in vayn to chronicle it--and why should I? dwelling as I doe at the Fountayn Head? Onlie that I find Pleasure, alreadie, in glancing over the foregoing Pages whensoever they concern _Father_ and _Erasmus_, and wish they were more faithfullie recalled and better writ. One Thing sticks by me,--a funny Reply of _Father's_ to a Man who owed him Money and who put him off with "_Memento Morieris_." "I bid you," retorted _Father_, "_Memento Mori Æris_, and I wish you woulde take as goode Care to provide for the one as I do for the other."

_Linacre_ laughed much at this, and sayd,--"That was real Wit; a Spark struck at the Moment; and with noe Ill-nature in it, for I am sure your Debtor coulde not help laughing."

"Not he," quoth _Erasmus_. "_More's_ Drollerie is like that of a young Gentlewoman of his Name, which shines without burning," ... and, oddlie enow, he looked acrosse at _me_. I am sure he meant _Bess_.

_July 1st._

_Father_ broughte home a strange Guest to-daye,--a converted _Jew_, with grizzlie Beard, furred Gown, and Eyes that shone like Lamps lit in dark Cavernes. He had beene to _Benmarine_ and _Tremeçen_, to the _Holie Citie_ and to _Damascus_, to _Urmia_ and _Assyria_, and I think alle over the knowne World; and tolde us manie strange Tales, one hardlie knew how to believe; as, for Example, of a Sea-coast Tribe, called the _Balouches_, who live on Fish and build theire Dwellings of the Bones. Alsoe, of a Race of his Countriemen beyond _Euphrates_ who believe in _Christ_, but know nothing of the Pope; and of whom were the Magians that followed the Star. This agreeth not with our Legend. He averred that, though soe far apart from theire Brethren, theire Speech was the same, and even theire Songs; and he sang or chaunted one which he sayd was common among the Jews alle over the World, and had beene soe ever since theire Citie was ruinated and the People captivated, and yet it was never sett down in Prick-song. _Erasmus_, who knows little or nought of Hebrew, listened to the Words with Curiositie, and made him repeate them twice or thrice: and though I know not the Character, it seemed to me they sounded thus:--

_Adir Hu yivne bethcha beccaro,
El, b'ne; El, b'ne; El, b'ne;
Bethcha beccaro._

Though Christianish, he woulde not eat Pig's Face; and sayd Swine's Flesh was forbidden by the Hebrew Law for its unwholesomenesse in hot Countries and hot Weather, rather than by way of arbitrarie Prohibition. _Daisy_ took a great Dislike to this Man, and woulde not sit next him.

In the Hay-field alle the Evening. Swathed _Father_ in a Hay-rope, and made him pay the Fine, which he pretended to resist. _Cecy_ was just about to cast one round _Erasmus_, when her Heart failed and she ran away, colouring to the Eyes. He sayd, he never saw such pretty Shame. _Father_ reclining on the Hay, with his Head on my Lap and his Eyes shut, _Bess_ asked if he were asleep. He made answer, "Yes, and dreaming." I askt, "Of what?" "Of a far-off future Daye, _Meg_; when thou and I shall looke back on this Hour, and this Hay-field, and my Head on thy Lap."

"Nay, but what a stupid Dream, Mr. _More_," says _Mother_. "Why, what woulde _you_ dreame of, Mrs. _Alice_?" "Forsooth, if I dreamed at alle, when I was wide awake, it shoulde be of being _Lord Chancellor_ at the leaste." "Well, Wife, I forgive thee for not saying at the _most_. Lord Chancellor, quotha! And you woulde be Dame _Alice_, I trow, and ride in a Whirlecote, and keep a Spanish Jennet, and a Couple of Greyhounds, and wear a Train before and behind, and carry a Jerfalcon on your Fist." "On my Wrist." "No, that's not such a pretty Word as t'other! Go to, go!"

Straying from the others, to a remote Corner of the Meadow, or ever I was aware, I came close upon _Gammer Gurney_, holding Somewhat with much Care. "Give ye good den, Mistress _Meg_," quoth she, "I cannot abear to rob the Birds of theire Nests; but I knows you and yours be kind to dumb Creatures, soe here's a Nest o' young Owzels for ye--and I can't call 'em dumb nowther, for they'll sing bravelie some o' these Days." "How hast fared, of late, _Gammer_?" quoth I. "Why, well enow for such as I," she made Answer; "since I lost the Use o' my right Hand, I can nowther spin, nor nurse sick Folk, but I pulls Rushes, and that brings me a few Pence, and I be a good Herbalist; onlie, because I says one or two English Prayers, and hates the Priests, some Folks thinks me a Witch." "But why dost hate the Priests?" quoth I. "Never you mind," she gave Answer, "I've Reasons manie; and for my English Prayers, they were taught me by a Gentleman I nursed, that's now a Saint in Heaven, along with poor _Joan_."

And soe she hobbled off, and I felt kindlie towards her, I scarce knew why--perhaps because she spake soe lovingly of her dead Sister, and because of that Sister's Name. _My_ Mother's Name was _Joan_.

_July 2nd._

_Erasmus_ is gone. His last Saying to _Father_ was, "They will have you at Court yet;" and _Father's_ Answer, "When _Plato's_ Year comes round."

To me he gave a Copy, how precious! of his Testament. "You are an elegant Latinist, _Margaret_," he was pleased to say, "but, if you woulde drink deeplie of the Well-springs of Wisdom, applie to Greek. The Latins have onlie shallow Rivulets; the Greeks, copious Rivers, running over Sands of Gold. Read _Plato_; he wrote on Marble, with a Diamond; but above alle, read the New Testament. 'Tis the Key to the Kingdom of Heaven."

To Mr. _Gunnel_, he said smiling, "Have a Care of thyself, dear _Gonellus_, and take a little Wine for thy Stomach's Sake. The Wages of most Scholars now-a-days, are weak Eyes, Ill-health, an empty Purse, and shorte Commons. I neede only bid thee beware of the two first."

To _Bess_, "Farewell, _Bessy_; thank you for mending my bad Latin. When I write to you, I will be sure to signe myselfe, '_Roterodamius_.' Farewell, sweete _Cecil_; let me always continue your 'desired Amiable.' And you, _Jacky_,--love your Book a little more."

"_Jack's_ deare Mother, not content with her Girls," sayth _Father_, "was alwaies wishing for a Boy, and at last she had one that means to remain a Boy alle his Life."

"The Dutch Schoolmasters thoughte _me_ dulle and heavie," sayth _Erasmus_, "soe there is some Hope of _Jacky_ yet." And soe, stepped into the Barge, which we watched to _Chelsea Reach_. How dulle the House has beene ever since! _Rupert_ and _William_ have had me into the Pavillion to hear the Plot of a Miracle-play they have alreadie begunne to talke over for _Christmasse_, but it seemed to me downrighte Rubbish. _Father_ sleepes in Town to-nighte, soe we shall be stupid enow. _Bessy_ hath undertaken to work _Father_ a Slipper for his tender Foot; and is happie, tracing for the Pattern our three Moorcocks and Colts; but I am idle and tiresome.

If I had Paper, I woulde beginne my projected _Opus_; but I dare not ask _Gunnel_ for anie more just yet; nor have anie Money to buy Some. I wish I had a couple of Angels. I think I shall write to _Father_ for them to-morrow; he alwaies likes to heare from us if he is twenty-four Hours absent, providing we conclude not with "I have Nothing more to say."

_July 4th._

I have writ my Letter to _Father_. I almoste wish, now, that I had not sent it.

_Rupert_ and _Will_ still full of theire Moralitie, which reallie has some Fun in it. To ridicule the Extravagance of those who, as the Saying is, carry theire Farms and Fields on theire Backs, _William_ proposes to come in, all verdant, with a reall Model of a Farm on his Back, and a Windmill on his Head.

_July 5th._

How sweete, how gracious an Answer from _Father_! _John Harris_ has broughte me with it the two Angels; less prized than this Epistle.

_July 10th._

Sixteenth Birthdaye. _Father_ away, which made it sadde. _Mother_ gave me a payr of blue Hosen with Silk Clocks; Mr. _Gunnel_, an ivorie-handled Stylus; _Bess_, a Bodkin for my Hair; _Daisy_, a Book-mark; _Mercy_, a Saffron Cake; _Jack_, a Basket; and _Cecil_, a Nosegay. _William's_ Present was fayrest of alle, but I am hurte with him and myselfe; for he offered it soe queerlie and tagged it with such ... I refused it, and there's an End. 'Twas unmannerlie and unkinde of me, and I've cried aboute it since.

_Father_ alwaies gives us a Birthdaye Treat; soe, contrived that _Mother_ shoulde take us to see my _Lord Cardinal_ of _York_ goe to _Westminster_ in State. We had a merrie Water-partie; got goode Places and saw the Show; Crosse-bearers, Pillar-bearers, Ushers and alle. Himselfe in crimson engrayned Sattin, and Tippet of Sables, with an Orange in his Hand helde to 's Nose, as though the common Ayr were too vile to breathe. What a pompous Priest it is! The Archbishop mighte well say, "That Man is drunk with too much Prosperitie."