Castlemayne is sicke again, people think, slipping her filly Desired me that I would baste his coate Did put evil thoughts in me, but proceeded no further France, which is accounted the best place for bread How Povy overdoes every thing in commending it Never could man say worse himself nor have worse said Wanton as ever she was, with much I made myself merry and away DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS, MAY/JUN 1665 [sp41g10.txt] A vineyard, the first that ever I did see All the towne almost going out of towne (Plague panic) Buy some roll-tobacco to smell to and chaw Consult my pillow upon that and every great thing of my life Convenience of periwiggs is so great Dying this last week of the plague 112, from 43 the week before Hear that the plague is come into the City Houses marked with a red cross upon the doors My old folly and childishnesse hangs upon me still Plague claimed 68,596 victims (in 1665) Pride of some persons and vice of most was but a sad story The coachman that carried [us] cannot know me again Though neither of us care 2d. one for another Which may teach me how I make others wait DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS, JULY 1665 [sp42g10.txt] About two o'clock, too late and too soon to go home to bed And all to dinner and sat down to the King saving myself Baseness and looseness of the Court Being able to do little business (but the less the better) Contracted for her as if he had been buying a horse Did bear with it, and very pleasant all the while Doubtfull whether her daughter will like of it or no Endeavouring to strike tallys for money for Tangier For, for her part, she should not be buried in the commons Had what pleasure almost I would with her Hath a good heart to bear, or a cunning one to conceal his evil I have promised, but know not when I shall perform I kissed the bride in bed, and so the curtaines drawne Less he finds of difference between them and other men Lord! in the dullest insipid manner that ever lover did Nan at Moreclacke, very much pleased and merry with her Not had the confidence to take his lady once by the hand Out of my purse I dare not for fear of a precedent Plague, forty last night, the bell always going Pretty to see the young pretty ladies dressed like men So to bed, to be up betimes by the helpe of a larum watch This absence makes us a little strange instead of more fond What silly discourse we had by the way as to love-matters DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS, AUGUST 1665 [sp43g10.txt]