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Diary of Samuel Pepys — Volume 51: March 1666-67 by Samuel Pepys
page 37 of 46 (80%)
and away home by water through bridge, a brave evening, and so home to
read, and anon to supper, W. Hewer with us, and then to read myself to
sleep again, and then to bed, and mightily troubled the most of the night
with fears of fire, which I cannot get out of my head to this day since
the last great fire. I did this night give the waterman who uses to carry
me 10s. at his request, for the painting of his new boat, on which shall
be my arms.

25th. (Ladyday.) Up, and with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Pen by coach to
Exeter House to our lawyers to have consulted about our trial to-morrow,
but missed them, so parted, and [Sir] W. Pen and I to Mr. Povy's about a
little business of [Sir] W. Pen's, where we went over Mr. Povy's house,
which lies in the same good condition as ever, which is most extraordinary
fine, and he was now at work with a cabinet-maker, making of a new inlaid
table. Having seen his house, we away, having in our way thither called
at Mr. Lilly's, who was working; and indeed his pictures are without doubt
much beyond Mr. Hales's, I think I may say I am convinced: but a mighty
proud man he is, and full of state. So home, and to the office, and by
and by to dinner, a poor dinner, my wife and I, at Sir W. Pen's, and then
he and I before to Exeter House, where I do not stay, but to the King's
playhouse; and by and by comes Mr. Lowther and his wife and mine, and into
a box, forsooth, neither of them being dressed, which I was almost ashamed
of. Sir W. Pen and I in the pit, and here saw "The Mayden Queene" again;
which indeed the more I see the more I like, and is an excellent play, and
so done by Nell, her merry part, as cannot be better done in nature, I
think. Thence home, and there I find letters from my brother, which tell
me that yesterday when he wrote my mother did rattle in the throat so as
they did expect every moment her death, which though I have a good while
expected did much surprise me, yet was obliged to sup at Sir W. Pen's and
my wife, and there counterfeited some little mirth, but my heart was sad,
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