I went on, enough to his Satisfaction, till coming to
"Bring to their Sweetness no Sobriety."
"Sobriety?" interrupted he, "Satiety, Satiety! the Blockhead!—and that I
should live to call a Woman soe.—Sobriety, indeede! poor Mary, her
Wits must have been wool-gathering. 'Bring to their Sweetness no
Sobriety!' What Meaning coulde she possibly affix to such Folly?"
"Sure, Father," sayd I, "here's Enough that she could affix no Meaning to, nor I neither, without your condescending to explayn it—Cycle, Epicycle, nocturnal Rhomb."
"Well, well," returned he, beginning to smile, "'twas unlikely she shoulde be with such Discourse delighted. Not capable, alas! poor Mary's Ear, of what is high. And yet, thy Mother, Child, woulde have stretched up towards Truths, though beyond her Reach, yet to the inquiring Mind offering rich Repast. And now write Satiety for Sobriety, if you love me."
While erasing the obnoxious Word, I cried, "Dear Father, pray answer me one Question—What is a Rhomb?"
"A Rhomb, Child?" repeated he, laughing, "why, a Parallelogram or quadrangular Figure, consisting of parallel Lines, with two acute and two obtuse Angles, and formed by two equal and righte Cones, joyned together at their Base! There, are you anie wiser now? No, little Maid, 'tis best for such as you
Not with perplexing Thoughts
To interrupt the Sweet of Life, from which
God hath bid dwell far off all anxious Cares,
And not molest us, unless we ourselves
Seek them, with wandering Thoughts and Notions vain.'"
April 19, 1665.
I heartilie wish our Stepmother were back, albeit we are soe comfortable without her! Mary, taking the Maids at unawares last Night, found a strange Man in the Kitchen. Words ensued; he slunk off like a Culprit, which lookt not well, while Betty Fisher, brazening it out, woulde have at firste that he was her Brother, then her Cousin, and ended by vowing to be revenged on Mary when she lookt not for it. I would have had Mary speak to Father, but she will not; perhaps soe best. Polly is in the Sulks to Daye, as well as Betty, saying, "As well live in a Nunnerie."