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Diary of Samuel Pepys — Volume 53: May 1667 by Samuel Pepys
page 41 of 49 (83%)
wife, ten times better than lighter hair, her complexion being mighty
good. With them talked a little, and was invited by her to come with my
wife on Wednesday next in the evening, to be merry there, which we shall
do. Then to the office again, where dispatched a great deal of business
till late at night, to my great content, and then home and with my wife to
our flageolets a little, and so to supper and to bed, after having my
chamber a little wiped up.

26th (Lord's day). Up sooner than usual on Sundays, and to walk, it being
exceeding hot all night (so as this night I begun to leave off my
waistcoat this year) and this morning, and so to walk in the garden till
toward church time, when my wife and I to church, where several strangers
of good condition come to our pew, where the pew was full. At noon dined
at home, where little Michell come and his wife, who continues mighty
pretty. After dinner I by water alone to Westminster, where, not finding
Mrs. Martin within, did go towards the parish church, and in the way did
overtake her, who resolved to go into the church with her that she was
going with (Mrs. Hargrave, the little crooked woman, the vintner's wife of
the Dog) and then go out again, and so I to the church, and seeing her
return did go out again myself, but met with Mr. Howlett, who, offering me
a pew in the gallery, I had no excuse but up with him I must go, and then
much against my will staid out the whole church in pain while she expected
me at home, but I did entertain myself with my perspective glass up and
down the church, by which I had the great pleasure of seeing and gazing at
a great many very fine women; and what with that, and sleeping, I passed
away the time till sermon was done, and then to Mrs. Martin, and there
staid with her an hour or two, and there did what I would with her, and
after been here so long I away to my boat, and up with it as far as Barne
Elmes, reading of Mr. Evelyn's late new book against Solitude, in which I
do not find much excess of good matter, though it be pretty for a bye
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