Friday 23 May 1662

At the office good part of the morning, and then about noon with my wife on foot to the Wardrobe. My wife went up to the dining room to my Lady Paulina, and I staid below talking with Mr. Moore in the parley, reading of the King’s and Chancellor’s late speeches at the proroguing of the Houses of Parliament. And while I was reading, news was brought me that my Lord Sandwich is come and gone up to my Lady, which put me into great suspense of joy, so I went up waiting my Lord’s coming out of my Lady’s chamber, which by and by he did, and looks very well, and my soul is glad to see him. He very merry, and hath left the King and Queen at Portsmouth, and is come up to stay here till next Wednesday, and then to meet the King and Queen at Hampton Court.

So to dinner, Mr. Browne, Clerk of the House of Lords, and his wife and brother there also; and my Lord mighty merry; among other things, saying that the Queen is a very agreeable lady, and paints still. After dinner I showed him my letter from Teddiman about the news from Argier, which pleases him exceedingly; and he writ one to the Duke of York about it, and sent it express.

There coming much company after dinner to my Lord, my wife and I slunk away to the Opera, where we saw “Witt in a Constable,” the first time that it is acted; but so silly a play I never saw I think in my life. After it was done, my wife and I to the puppet play in Covent Garden, which I saw the other day, and indeed it is very pleasant. Here among the fidlers I first saw a dulcimere played on with sticks knocking of the strings, and is very pretty. So by water home, and supped with Sir William Pen very merry, and so to bed.

30 Annotations

First Reading

Australian Susan  •  Link

Wit in a Constable
written by Henry Glapthorne in 1639.
"GLAPTHORNE, HENRY (fi. 1635-1642), English poet and dramatist, wrote in the reign of Charles I. All that is known of him is gathered from his own work. He published Poems (1639), many of them in praise of an unidentified Lucinda ; a poem in honor of his friend Thomas Beedome, whose Poems Divine and Humane he edited in 1641; and Whitehall (1642), dedicated to his noble friend and gossip, Captain. Richard Lovelace. The first volume contains a poem in honor of the duke of York, and Whitehall is a review of the past glories of the English court, containing abundant evidences of the writers devotion to the royal cause. Argalus and Parthenia (1639) is a pastoral tragedy founded on an episode in Sidneys Arcadia; Albertus Wallenstein (1639), his only attempt at historical tragedy, represents Wallenstein as a monster of pride and cruelty. His other plays are The Hollander (written 1635; printed 1640), a romantic comedy of which the scene is laid in Genoa; Wit in a Constable (1640), which is probably a version of an earlier play, and owes something to Shakespeares Much Ado about Nothing; and The Ladies Priviledge (1640). The Lady Mother (1635) has been identified (Fleay, Biog. Chron. of the Drama) with The Noble Trial, one of the plays destroyed by Warburtons cook, and Mr A. H. Bullen prints it in vol. ii. of his Old English Plays as most probably Glapthornes work. The Paraside, or Revenge for honor (1654), entered at Stationers Hall in 1653 as Glapthornes, was printed in the next year with George Chapmans name on the title-page. It should probably be included among Glapthornes plays, which, though they hardly rise above the level of contemporary productions, contain many felicitous isolated passages. " from 1911 online

Louis  •  Link

A hammered dulcimer, and Henry Glapthorne (fl. 1635-42), all in one day: "Wit in a Constable (1639 or 1640) . . . is probably a version of an earlier play, and owes something to Shakespeares 'Much Ado about Nothing'."

Bit of dialogue:
"Dost hear,
My honest caddis-garter?"

“Caddice-garter. A servant, a man of mean rank. When garters were worn in sight, the gentry used very expensive ones, but the baser sort wore worsted galloon ones.”—-Brewer’s Dictionary.

Don’t you wish you could hear the rest.
Oops! Just pipped to the post by Australian Susan, to whom I defer.

Australian Susan  •  Link

Dulcimer
What Sam saw was a hammered dulcimer (see http://www.rtpnet.org/~hdweb/ ) Not to be confused with the plucked Mountain Dulcimer more commonly seen in the USA (e.g.http://www.everythingdulcimer…)
Typical of Sam, can't resist anything new be it puppet plays or music or even those mysterious muscats he's waiting for! His happiness at having "my Lord" back safe and well is shining through this entry and a I do like the "slunk away" - Sam knows he is valued and wanted by the Sandwiches - he has no need to hang about and be sycophantic. Much better take the wife off to the theatre, even if it is a dud drama.

A. De Araujo  •  Link

"a very agreeable lady,and paints still"
Is she a painter or does she paint herself?I am confused!

Australian Susan  •  Link

"paints still"
Now, I was rather surprised by this as I thought it would be the older ladies who would *start* painting, rather than this being something done by young ladies and then left off. Anyone an expert on make-up in the 17th century out there? Surely, "painting" was an attribute of the "actress" - sometime synonym for prostitute? Or was it OK for the aristocracy. We know that Elizabeth wore patches, but did she "paint" too?

Robert Gertz  •  Link

Slunk away to the Opera, eh?...I can just see our conspiratorial twosome slipping off.

(Actually I'm listening right now to "And So to Bed" the Ellis 50's musical on Sam and Beth, in particular one song where Beth is singing about slipping off alone with Sam...Very appropriate)

dirk  •  Link

"that the Queen is a very agreeable lady, and paints still"

I agree with Susan that this sounds unusual. Are there any alternative interpretations - other than her making paintings? Does anybody with L&M have an alternative reading?

A. Hamilton  •  Link

dulcimer

In the U.S. South we call the instrument heard by Sam a hammer dulcimer.

"[Hammer]Dulcimers were reasonably common domestic and concert instruments in the United States during the 18th and 19th centuries. No doubt they were first brought to the colonies from England where they were used in the street music of the time. Portability and simplicity made the dulcimer much more practical than the piano for many settlers. These attributes probably led to its association with the lumber camps of Maine and Michigan. It is still referred to as a "lumberjack's piano" in the North. As names for the dulcimer go, however, the American appellation "whamadiddle" must be ranked as most colorful, with a close second in the German term "hackbrett," literally "chopping board!".

http://www.si.edu/resource/faq/nm…

jamie yeager  •  Link

"that the Queen is a very agreeable lady, and paints still"
My memory from my Shakespeare classes, though not authoritative, is suggestive: women painted their faces to preserve the illusion of youth as long as possible. When no longer possible, they gave over painting. Here the sense seems to be, “the Queen remains beautiful or young enough to get away with continued face painting without seeming ridiculous.” By opposition, compare a modern granny in a miniskirt.

Pauline  •  Link

The King and Queen
Charles is 32, Catherine 24
(Lady Castlemaine is 22)

Mary  •  Link

"and paints still"

L&M point out that face-painting was much more commonly practised in Mediterranean countries (i.e. southern Europe)than in northern Europe at this date. Sandwich's estimation of the new queen as a very agreeable lady rules out any suspicion that a painted face betrays a brazen hussy in this case.

Pedro  •  Link

"Sandwich's estimation of the new queen as a very agreeable lady”

On the first meeting of Charles and Catherine, Sandwich sent a letter from Portsmouth to Clarendon:

"I had the honour to attend upon him (the King) into the Queen's chamber. Her majesty keeping her bed by reason of a soar throat, and a little feverish distemper gotten by a cold here. Their meeting was with due expression of affection, and the Queen declaring her perfect resignation to the King's pleasure, I observed as much as this short time permits, and I do believe this first interview hath been with much contentment on both sides, and we are like to be very happy in this conjunction"

Peter  •  Link

"Slunk away to the Opera"... struck me too... not because they did it, but because of the way Sam expresses it. It sounds almost too modern. I love the way things like this take you by surprise from time to time.

Pedro  •  Link

"and paints still"

Looking at many descriptions of Catherine from people of the time, both good and bad, I cannot see any mention of painting. Davidson in her biography says-

"Her complexion was clear and beautiful olive, with an excellent colour, that she was slight in figure, and perfectly made."

Charles had written to Clarendon just after his first sight-

"I can now give you an account of what I have seen abed, which in short is, her face is not so exact as to be called a beauty, though her eyes are excellent good, and not anything in her face that in the least degree can shock one. On the contrary she has much agreeableness in her looks altogether as ever I saw, and, if I have any skill in visiognimy, which I think I have, she must be as good a woman as ever was born, her conversation, as much as I can perceive, is very good, for she has wit enough, and a most agreeable voice, you would wonder to see how well acquainted we are already; in a word, I think myself very happy, for I am confident our two humours will agree very well together..."
C.R.

Xjy  •  Link

A joyous day
Yup, full of joy for our Sam. Lots happening, good news, good people, good entertainment. It's May, his patron and protector's back after a long and sometimes anxious absence, the King and Queen are in a good mood, so is Beth, and Punch gets to wallop Judy around before getting his come-uppance.
So his tail's wagging away even if he has trouble expressing it.

Pedro  •  Link

"I first saw a dulcimer played on with sticks knocking of the strings, and is very pretty."

If Sam had been under the influence of "muscatt", in his vision he may have seen an Abyssinian maid, that on her dulcimer she played. And is very pretty.

Tom Burns  •  Link

What a week!

Beginning with Beth's ravishment in her "new suit of black sarcenet and yellow petticoat", followed by a play or opera every day! Almost makes me want to go back to 1662, except for wont of antibiotics and drawing and quartering...

Sjoerd  •  Link

"and paints still"

could this mean the Queen has been painting a “still life” painting ?

I rememember “painting little” meant painting miniatures ?

language hat  •  Link

paints:
There are two OED definitions that could apply, 'to apply makeup' and 'to change color (from emotion)':

b. intr. To apply colour to the face or body; spec. to make use of cosmetics.
[...] 1603 SHAKESPEARE Haml. V. i. 189 Bid her paint her selfe an inch thicke, to this she must come. 1647 J. HALL Poems I. 3 If you.. besaint Old Jesabel for shewing how to paint. 1712 J. ARBUTHNOT John Bull III. i. 7 She scorn'd to Patch and Paint. 1764 Ann. Reg. 92/2 The women of all ranks & ages paint; they are generally very handsome. [...]

c. intr. To change colour due to sudden emotion. Freq. in to paint pale (also white): to turn pale. Obs.
a1529 J. SKELTON Elynour Rummyng, There was a pryckemedenty Sat lyke a seynty And began to paynty As though she wolde faynty. a1627 T. MIDDLETON More Dissemblers besides Women I. i, in 2 New Playes (1657) 2 I'll kiss thee into colour, Canst thou paint pale so quickly. 1631 B. JONSON Divell is an Asse II. vi. 35 in Wks. II, Mrs. Fi. You make me paint, Sr. Wit. The' are faire colours, Lady, and naturall! 1677 T. BETTERTON Counterfeit Bridegroom II. i. 20 The Widow paints White, some Aqua Coelestis there, quickly.

language hat  •  Link

(Not that I think the second definition is likely here, but it's interesting.)

Pedro  •  Link

"Not that I think the second definition is likely here, but it's interesting."

I am not so sure that the second definition could not apply. Pauline says that Catherine is 24 and Castlemaine is 22, but the diference in "worldly" age would be tremendous. Catherine has been brought up in the seclusion of the convent, and as the Portuguese historian Rau says, we will not be able to find much out about her early age, except that it was totally unsuitable for the world she was about to enter. The only art that she had undertaken was that of embroidery.
Many say that even at 24 she would have passed for a girl of 15. It would only be natural that at times she would blush at the attention that was, until this time in her life, totally alien.

dirk  •  Link

"her conversation, as much as I can perceive, is very good"

re - Pedro's annotation above

**as much as I can perceive** :
don't forget they are conversing in Spanish! - the only language both Charles and his new queen master sufficiently to engage in conversation but a foreign language to both of them.

dirk  •  Link

the Queen's blush

I tend to agree with Pedro on this. Not at all unlikely interpretation of "paints still".

Thanks, language.hat

Cumgranissalis  •  Link

"... and paints still..." and blushes still, for such a girl, so way passed sweet sixteen,, and out of the convent too. I doth beleive it be the perfect answer even for a DOM. Still being still possible, with all those Tars around.Thanks LH et al.

Pedro  •  Link

Still Painting.

The Portuguese writer Casimiro quotes from the Journal of Sandwich, after his first visit with Catarina...

"Dark and rosy, beautiful black eyes, an air of youthful innocence."

Second Reading

Terry Foreman  •  Link

'talking with Mr. Moore in the parley" -- L&M transcribe "talking with Mr. Moore in the parler"

Bill  •  Link

"After dinner I showed him my letter from Teddiman about the news from Argier, which pleases him exceedingly"

"I came to the Wardrobe in London to my family, where I met a letter from Captain Teddiman to Mr. Samuel Pepys, showing the news of Sir John Lawson's having made peace with Algiers, they agreeing not to search our ships." —Lord Sandwich's Journal, 23d May.
---Diary and correspondence of Samuel Pepys, the diary deciphered by J. Smith. 1854.

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