But though I sawe Her manie tymes, oure converse was ever of y^ts Complex^n, & y^e accursed G.father satt downe, & rose upp with us.--Yet colde I see by Her aspecte, y^t I had in some sorte Her favoure, & y^t I mislyk'd Her not so gretelie as She w^d have me thinke.--So y^t one daie, ('twas in Januarie, & verie colde,) I, beinge moste distrackt, saide to Her, I had tho't 'twolde pleasure Her more, to be friends w. a man, who had a knave for a G.father, y^n with One who had no G.father att alle, lyke W^mson (y^e Puppe).--She made answer, I was exceedinge fresshe, or some such matter. She cloath'd her thoughte in phrase more befittinge a Gentlewoman.--Att this I colde no longer contayne myself, but tolde Her roundlie, I lov'd Her, & 'twas my Love made me soe unmannerlie.--And w. y^ts speache I att y^e leaste made an End of my Uncertaintie, for She bade me speake w. Her no more.--I wolde be determin'd, whether I was Naught to Her.--She made Answer She colde not justlie say I was Naught, seeing y^t wh^ever She mighte bee, I was One too manie.--I saide, 'twas some Comforte, I had even a Place in Her thoughtes, were it onlie in Her disfavour.--She saide, my Solace was indeede grete, if it kept pace with y^e measure of Her Disfavour, for, in plain Terms, She hated me, & on Her intreatinge of me to goe, I went.--Y^is happ'd att y^e house of M^rss Varicke, wh. I 1^st met Her, who (M^rss Varicke) was for staying me, y^t I might eate some Ic'd Cream, butt of a Truth I was chill'd to my Taste allreadie.--Albeit I afterwards tooke to walkinge of y^e Streets till near Midnight.--'Twas as I saide before in Januarie & exceedinge colde. 20^th Maie. How wearie is y^is dulle procession of y^e Yeare! For it irketh my Soule y^t eache Monthe shoude come so aptlie after y^e Month afore, & Nature looke so Smug, as She had done some grete thinge.--Surelie if she make no Change, she hath work'd no Miracle, for we knowe wel, what we maye look for.--Y^e Vine under my Window hath broughte forth Purple Blossoms, as itt hath eache Springe these xii Yeares.--I wolde have had them Redd, or Blue, or I knowe not what Coloure, for I am sicke of likinge of Purple a Dozen Springes in Order.--And wh. moste galls me is y^is, I knowe howe y^is sadd Rounde will goe on, & Maie give Place to June, & she to July, & onlie my Hearte blossom not nor my Love growe no greener. 2^nd June.