This morning the Proposal which I wrote the last night I showed to the officers this morning, and was well liked of, and I wrote it fair for Sir. G. Carteret to show to the King, and so it is to go to the Parliament.
I dined at home, and after dinner I went to the new Theatre and there I saw “The Merry Wives of Windsor” acted, the humours of the country gentleman and the French doctor very well done, but the rest but very poorly, and Sir J. Falstaffe as bad as any.
From thence to Mr. Will. Montagu’s chamber to have sealed some writings tonight between Sir R. Parkhurst and myself about my Lord’s 2000l., but he not coming, I went to my father’s and there found my mother still ill of the stone, and had just newly voided one, which she had let drop into the chimney, and could not find it to shew it me. From thence home and to bed.
Night showed morning
as in a theater
the still of the void,
which she had let drop
into me.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 5 December 1660.
(“Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.”)