Mary Powell & Deborah's Diary — Edition Insights

Mistress was with the Bees, soe we walked towards the Hives; and, from an Arbour hard by, hearde a Murmur, though not of Bees, issuing. In this rusticall Bowre, found _Roger Agnew_ reading to _Rose_ and to Mr. _Milton_. Thereupon ensued manie cheerfulle Salutations, and _Rose_ proposed returning to the House, but Master _Agnew_ sayd it was pleasanter in the Bowre, where was Room for alle; soe then _Rose_ offered to take me to her Chamber to lay aside my Hoode, and promised to send a Junkett into the Arbour; whereon Mr. _Agnew_ smiled at Mr. _Milton_, and sayd somewhat of "neat-handed _Phillis_."

As we went alonge, I tolde _Rose_ I had seene her Guest once before, and thought him a comely, pleasant Gentleman. She laught, and sayd, "Pleasant? why, he is one of the greatest Scholars of our Time, and knows more Languages than you or I ever hearde of." I made Answer, "That may be, and yet might not ensure his being pleasant, but rather the contrary, for I cannot reade _Greeke_ and _Latin_, _Rose_, like you." Quoth _Rose_, "But you can reade _English_, and he hath writ some of the loveliest _English_ Verses you ever hearde, and hath brought us a new Composure this Morning, which _Roger_, being his olde College Friend, was discussing with him, to my greate Pleasure, when you came. After we have eaten the Junkett, he shall beginne it again." "By no Means," said I, "for I love Talking more than Reading." However, it was not soe to be, for _Rose_ woulde not be foyled; and as it woulde not have been good Manners to decline the Hearinge in Presence of the Poet, I was constrayned to suppresse a secret Yawne, and feign Attention, though, Truth to say, it soone wandered; and, during the last halfe Hour, I sat in a compleat Dreame, tho' not unpleasant one. _Roger_ having made an End, 'twas diverting to heare him commending the Piece unto the Author, who as gravely accepted it; yet, with nothing fullesome about the one, or misproud about the other. Indeed, there was a sedate Sweetnesse in the Poet's Wordes as well as Lookes; and shortlie, waiving the Discussion of his owne Composures, he beganne to talke of those of other Men, as _Shakspeare, Spenser, Cowley, Ben Jonson_, and of _Tasso_, and _Tasso's_ Friend the Marquis of _Villa_, whome, it appeared, Mr. _Milton_ had Knowledge of in _Italy_. Then he askt me, woulde I not willingly have seene the Country of _Romeo_ and _Juliet_, and prest to know whether I loved Poetry; but finding me loath to tell, sayd he doubted not I preferred Romances, and that he had read manie, and loved them dearly too. I sayd, I loved _Shakspeare's_ Plays better than _Sidney's_ Arcadia; on which he cried "Righte," and drew nearer to me, and woulde have talked at greater length; but, knowing from _Rose_ how learned he was, I feared to shew him I was a sillie Foole; soe, like a sillie Foole, held my Tongue.

Dinner; Eggs, Bacon, roast Ribs of Lamb, Spinach, Potatoes, savoury Pie, a _Brentford_ Pudding, and Cheesecakes. What a pretty Housewife _Rose_ is! _Roger's_ plain Hospitalitie and scholarlie Discourse appeared to much Advantage. He askt of News from Paris; and Mr. _Milton_ spoke much of the _Swedish_ Ambassadour, _Dutch_ by Birth; a Man renowned for his Learning, Magnanimity, and Misfortunes, of whome he had seene much. He tolde _Rose_ and me how this Mister _Van der Groote_ had beene unjustlie caste into Prison by his Countrymen; and how his good Wife had shared his Captivitie, and had tried to get his Sentence reversed; failing which, she contrived his Escape in a big Chest, which she pretended to be full of heavie olde Bookes. Mr. _Milton_ concluded with the Exclamation, "Indeede, there never was such a Woman;" on which, deare _Roger_, whome I beginne to love, quoth, "Oh yes, there are manie such,--we have two at Table now." Whereat, Mr. _Milton_ smiled.

At Leave-taking pressed Mr. _Agnew_ and _Rose_ to come and see us soone; and _Dick_ askt Mr. _Milton_ to see the Bowling Greene.

Ride Home, delightfulle.

Thought, when I woke this Morning, I had been dreaminge of St. _Paul_ let down the Wall in a Basket; but founde, on more closely examining the Matter, 'twas _Grotius_ carried down the Ladder in a Chest; and methought I was his Wife, leaninge from the Window above, and crying to the Souldiers, "Have a Care, have a Care!" 'Tis certayn I shoulde have betraied him by an Over-anxietie.