“There is Pevensey, sir, where the King landed, and Thorn House, and Hurstmonceux.”
“Ah, Hurstmonceux, and Thorn, did you say? Thorn belongs to the Purcells, John, surely?”
“Yes, Mr. Pepys—”
“Pat off the tongue—Patrick Pepys shall be patted!”
“No one ever goes to Thorn, sir; there is nothing to see but ravens.”
“Hurstmonceux is a pretty word, my dear. Say it again; I like to see your lips pout out. What! giggling? Now, dear soul, what is there to laugh at? I am an old bachelor, as this gentleman will tell you. And, Betty, don’t forget the warming-pan, will you, my dear?”
John Gore and Mr. Pepys shared the same room that night, and the Secretary’s bed-going was as lengthy as his tongue. He had a habit of undressing by degrees, and of sitting down and roasting his toes at the fire between each act. He would even draw off his small-clothes from one leg and sit with the other still breeched, while he chatted and fondled his chin. Even when he had undressed, the toilet for the night was nearly as thorough as the toilet for the day. Mr. Pepys aired the contents of his travelling valise before the fire, and donned in succession a pair of lamb’s-wool bed-boots, a thick undervest, a blue cloth sleeping-coat, and a great nightcap, which he drew down over his ears. Then he shut the lattice tight, pushed a table against the door, put his money under his pillow, warmed his feet for the last time at the fire, and then clambered into bed.
“Lord Montague can stay at Jericho,” he said, as he wallowed down into a feathered mattress. “The weather should be steady, Jack—my corns are quiet. What do you say to Hurstmonceux for to-morrow. I wager that we can get inside.”
“The girl spoke of Thorn.”
“That was an allegory, John; ask her if her name is Rose. Now I dare you to keep me awake with your talking, sir; I know you sailors, all yarn to the rope’s-end. Good wench, she has warmed the bed well just where my feet go, God bless her! Did you applaud the color of those stays, John? Red and green are rare colors on a dark woman. Ah—ho!—if I tie not my clacker up, you will never let me sleep till midnight.”