Onlie this Morning, just before going to his Studdy, he stept back and sayd, "Sweet Moll, I know you can both play and sing—why will you not practise?" I replyed, I loved it not much. He rejoyned, "But you know I love it, and is not that a Motive?" I sayd, I feared to let him hear me, I played so ill. He replyed, "Why, that is the very Reason you shoulde seek to play better, and I am sure you have Plenty of Time. Perhaps, in your whole future Life, you will not have such a Season of Leisure as you have now,—a golden Opportunity, which you will surelie seize."—Then added, "Sir Thomas More's Wife learnt to play the Lute, solely that she mighte please her Husband." I answered, "Nay, what to tell me of Sir Thomas More's Wife, or of Hugh Grotius's Wife, when I was the Wife of John Milton?" He looked at me twice, and quicklie, too, at this Saying; then laughing, cried, "You cleaving Mischief! I hardlie know whether to take that Speech amisse or well—however, you shall have the Benefit of the Doubt."

And so away laughing; and I, for very Shame, sat down to the Spinnette for two wearie Hours, till soe tired, I coulde cry; and when I desisted, coulde hear Jack wailing over his Task. 'Tis raining fast, I cannot get out, nor should I dare to go alone, nor where to go to if 'twere fine. I fancy ill Smells from the Churchyard—'tis long to Dinner-time, with noe Change, noe Exercise; and oh, I sigh for Forest Hill.

—A dull Dinner with Mrs. Phillips, whom I like not much. Christopher Milton there, who stared hard at me, and put me out of Countenance with his strange Questions. My Husband checked him. He is a Lawyer, and has Wit enoughe.

Mrs. Phillips speaking of second Marriages, I unawares hurt her by giving my Voice agaynst them. It seems she is thinking of contracting a second Marriage.

—At Supper, wishing to ingratiate myself with the Boys, talked to them of Countrie Sports, etc.: to which the youngest listened greedilie; and at length I was advised to ask them woulde they not like to see Forest Hill? to which the elder replyed in his most methodicall Manner, "If Mr. Powell has a good Library." For this Piece of Hypocrisie, at which I heartilie laught, he was commended by his Uncle. Hypocrisie it was, for Master Ned cryeth over his Taskes pretty nearlie as oft as the youngest.

Friday.

To rewarde my zealous Practice to-day on the Spinnette, Mr. Milton produced a Collection of "Ayres, and Dialogues, for one, two, and three Voices," by his Friend, Mr. Harry Lawes, which he sayd I shoulde find very pleasant Studdy; and then he tolde me alle about theire getting up the Masque of Comus in Ludlow Castle, and how well the Lady's Song was sung by Mr. Lawes' Pupil, the Lady Alice, then a sweet, modest Girl, onlie thirteen Yeares of Age,—and he told me of the Singing of a faire Italian young Signora, named Leonora Barroni, with her Mother and Sister, whome he had hearde at Rome, at the Concerts of Cardinal Barberini; and how she was "as gentle and modest as sweet Moll," yet not afrayed to open her Mouth, and pronounce everie Syllable distinctlie, and with the proper Emphasis and Passion when she sang. And after this, to my greate Contentment, he tooke me to the Gray's Inn Walks, where, the Afternoon being fine, was much Companie.

After Supper, I proposed to the Boys that we shoulde tell Stories; and Mr. Milton tolde one charminglie, but then went away to write a Latin Letter. Soe Ned's Turn came next; and I must, if I can, for very Mirthe's Sake, write it down in his exact Words, they were soe pragmaticall.

"On a Daye, there was a certain Child wandered forthe, that would play. He met a Bee, and sayd, 'Bee, wilt thou play with me?' The Bee sayd, 'No, I have my Duties to perform, tho' you, it woulde seeme, have none. I must away to make Honey.' Then the Childe, abasht, went to the Ant. He sayd, 'Will you play with me, Ant?' The Ant replied, 'Nay, I must provide against the Winter.' In shorte, he found that everie Bird, Beaste, and Insect he accosted, had a closer Eye to the Purpose of their Creation than himselfe. Then he sayd, 'I will then back, and con my Task.'—Moral. The Moral of the foregoing Fable, my deare Aunt, is this—We must love Work better than Play."

With alle my Interest for Children, how is it possible to take anie
Interest in soe formall a little Prigge?