Tuesday, 31st, 1532.
Who coulde have thoughte that those ripe Grapes whereof dear Gaffer ate soe plentifullie, should have ended his Dayes? This Event hath filled the House with Mourning. He had us all about his Bed to receive his Blessing; and 'twas piteous to see Father fall upon his Face, as Joseph on the Face of Jacob, and weep upon him and kiss him. Like Jacob, my Grandsire lived to see his duteous Son attain to the Height of earthlie Glory, his Heart unspoyled and untouched.
July, 1532.
The Days of Mourning for my Grandsire are at an end; yet Father still goeth heavilie. This Forenoon, looking forthe of my Lattice, I saw him walking along the River Side, his Arm cast about Will's Neck; and 'twas a dearer Sight to my Soul than to see the King walking there with his Arm around Father's Neck. They seemed in such earnest Converse, that I was avised to ask Will, afterwards, what they had been saying. He told me that, after much friendly Chat together on this and that, Father fell into a Muse, and presently, fetching a deep Sigh, says,—
"Would to God, Son Roper, on Condition three Things were well established in Christendom, I were put into a Sack, and cast presently into the Thames." Will sayth,—