Up early, and to my office, and thence to my Lord Sandwich, whom I found in bed, and he sent for me in. Among other talk, he do tell me that he hath put me into commission with a great many great persons in the business of Tangier, which is a very great honour to me, and may be of good concernment to me. By and by comes in Mr. Coventry to us, whom my Lord tells that he is also put into the commission, and that I am there, of which he said he was glad; and did tell my Lord that I was indeed the life of this office, and much more to my commendation beyond measure. And that, whereas before he did bear me respect for his sake, he do do it now much more for my own; which is a great blessing to me. Sir G. Carteret having told me what he did yesterday concerning his speaking to my Lord Chancellor about me. So that on all hands, by God’s blessing, I find myself a very rising man. By and by comes my Lord Peterborough in, with whom we talked a good while, and he is going tomorrow towards Tangier again. I perceive there is yet good hopes of peace with Guyland, which is of great concernment to Tangier. And many other things I heard which yet I understand not, and so cannot remember.
My Lord and Lord Peterborough going out to the Solicitor General about the drawing up of this Commission, I went to Westminster Hall with Mr. Moore, and there meeting Mr. Townsend, he would needs take me to Fleet Street, to one Mr. Barwell, squire sadler to the King, and there we and several other Wardrobe-men dined. We had a venison pasty, and other good plain and handsome dishes; the mistress of the house a pretty, well-carriaged woman, and a fine hand she hath; and her maid a pretty brown lass. But I do find my nature ready to run back to my old course of drinking wine and staying from my business, and yet, thank God, I was not fully contented with it, but did stay at little ease, and after dinner hastened home by water, and so to my office till late at night. In the evening Mr. Hayward came to me to advise with me about the business of the Chest, which I have now a mind to put in practice, though I know it will vex Sir W. Batten, which is one of the ends (God forgive me) that I have in it.
So home, and eat a bit, and to bed.
In bed I talk
to my hand
in rising hopes of going out
with the fleet hand of a woman
a hand ready to run
home to the chest.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 20 August 1662.