Sunday 17 April 1664
(Lord’s day). Up, and I put on my best cloth black suit and my velvet cloake, and with my wife in her best laced suit to church, where we have not been these nine or ten weeks. The truth is, my jealousy hath hindered it, for fear she should see Pembleton. He was here to-day, but I think sat so as he could not see her, which did please me, God help me! mightily, though I know well enough that in reason this is nothing but my ridiculous folly. Home to dinner, and in the afternoon, after long consulting whether to go to Woolwich or no to see Mr. Falconer, but indeed to prevent my wife going to church, I did however go to church with her, where a young simple fellow did preach: I slept soundly all the sermon, and thence to Sir W. Pen’s, my wife and I, there she talking with him and his daughter, and thence with my wife walked to my uncle Wight’s and there supped, where very merry, but I vexed to see what charges the vanity of my aunt puts her husband to among her friends and nothing at all among ours. Home and to bed.
Our parson, Mr. Mills, his owne mistake in reading of the service was very remarkable, that instead of saying, “We beseech thee to preserve to our use the kindly fruits of the earth,” he cries, “Preserve to our use our gracious Queen Katherine.”