for theirs that study not for themselves. I envy no man that knows more than my self, but pity them that know less.

I instruct no man as an exercise of my knowledge, or with 55 an intent rather to nourish and keep it alive in mine own head than beget and propagate it in his and in the midst of all my endeavors there is but one thought that dejects me, that my acquired parts must perish with my self, nor can be legacied among my honored friends. I cannot fall out or 60 contemn a man for an error, or conceive why a difference in opinion should divide an affection; for controversies, disputes, and argumentations, both in philosophy and in divinity, if they meet with discreet and peaceable natures, do not infringe the laws of charity. In all disputes, so much as there 65 is of passion, so much there is of nothing to the purpose; for then reason, like a bad hound, spends upon a false scent, and forsakes the question first started. And this is one reason why controversies are never determined; for, though they be amply proposed, they are scarce at all handled, 70 they do so swell with unnecessary digressions; and the parenthesis on the party is often as large as the main discourse upon the subject.

SAMUEL PEPYS

Shakspere's The Tempest

(From Diary)

Nov. 7, 1667. Up, and at the office hard all the morning, and at noon resolved with Sir W. Pen to go see "The Tempest," an old play of Shakespeare's, acted, I hear, the first day; and so my wife, and girl, and W. Hewer by themselves, 5 and Sir W. Pen and I afterwards by ourselves. The House mighty full; the King and Court there: and the most innocent play that ever I saw; and a curious piece of musique in an echo of half sentences, the echo repeating the

former half, while the man goes on to the latter; which is mighty pretty. The play has no great wit, but yet good, 10 above ordinary plays.

Nove. 13, 1667. Thence home to dinner, and as soon as dinner done I and my wife and Willet to the Duke of York's house, and there saw the Tempest again, which is very pleasant, and full of so good variety that I cannot be more 15 pleased in a comedy, only the seamen's part a little too tedious.

Dec. 12, 1667. After dinner I all alone to the Duke of York's house, and saw "The Tempest," which, as often as I have seen it, I do like very well, and the house very full.

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Feb. 3, 1668. At noon home to dinner, and thence after dinner to the Duke of York's house, to the play, "The Tempest," which we have often seen, but yet I was pleased again, and shall be again to see it, it is so full of variety, and particularly this day I took pleasure to learn the tune of 25 the seaman's dance, which I have much desired to be perfect in, and have made myself so.

April 30, 1668. Thence I to the Duke of York's playhouse, and there I saw "The Tempest," which still pleases me mightily.

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May 11, 1668. To the Duke of York's playhouse, and there saw "The Tempest," and between two acts, I went out to Mr. Harris, and got him to repeat to me the words of the Echo, while I writ them down, having tried in the play to have wrote them; but, when I had done it, having done it 35 without looking upon my paper, I find I could not read the blacklead. But now I have got the words clear, and, in going in thither, had the pleasure to see the actors in their several dresses, especially the seamen and monster, which were very droll: so into the play again.

40

The Great Fire of London

(From Diary)

Sept. 2, 1666 (Lord's day). Some of our maids sitting up late last night to get things ready against our feast today, Jane called us up about three in the morning, to tell us of a great fire they saw in the City. So I rose and went to her 5 window, and thought it to be on the back side of Mark Lane

at the farthest; but, being unused to such fires as followed, I thought it far enough off; and so went to bed again and to sleep. About seven rose again to dress myself, and there looked out at the window, and saw the fire not so much as it 10 was and further off. So to my closet to set things to rights after yesterday's cleaning. By and by Jane comes and tells me that she hears that above three hundred houses have been burned down to-night by the fire we saw, and that it is now burning down all Fish Street, by London Bridge. So I made 15 myself ready presently, and walked to the Tower, and there got up upon one of the high places, Sir J. Robinson's little son going up with me; and there I did see the houses at that end of the bridge all on fire, and an infinite great fire on this and the other side the end of the bridge; which, among other 20 people, did trouble me for poor little Michell and our Sarah on the bridge. So down, with my heart full of trouble, to the Lieutenant of the Tower, who tells me that it begun this morning in the King's baker's house in Pudding Lane, and that it hath burned St. Magnus's Church and most part of 25 Fish Street already. So I down to the waterside, and there got a boat, and through bridge, and there saw a lamentable fire.

Poor Michell's house, as far as the Old Swan, already burned that way, and the fire running further, that in a very 30 little time it got as far as the Steel-yard, while I was there. Everybody endeavoring to remove their goods, and flinging

into the river, or bringing them into lighters that lay off; poor people staying in their houses as long as till the very fire touched them, and then running into boats, or clambering from one pair of stairs by the waterside to another. And 35 among other things, the poor pigeons, I perceive, were loth to leave their houses, but hovered about the windows and balconies till they burned their wings, and fell down. Having stayed, and in an hour's time seen the fire rage every way, and nobody, to my sight, endeavoring to quench it, but to 40 remove their goods, and leave all to the fire, and having seen it get as far as the Steel-yard, and the wind mighty high and driving it into the City, and every thing, after so long a drought, proving combustible, even the very stones of churches, and among other things the poor steeple by which 45 pretty Mrs. lives, and whereof my old schoolfellow Elborough is parson, taken fire in the very top, and there burned till it fell down: I to Whitehall (with a gentleman with me who desired to go off from the Tower, to see the fire, in my boat); to Whitehall, and there up to the King's 50 closet in the Chapel, where people come about me, and I did give them an account dismayed them all, and word was carried in to the King. So I was called for, and did tell the King and Duke of York what I saw, and that unless his Majesty did command houses to be pulled down nothing could stop the 55 fire. They seemed much troubled, and the King commanded me to go to my Lord Mayor from him, and command him to spare no houses, but to pull down before the fire every way. The Duke of York did bid me tell him that if he would have any more soldiers he shall.

60

I walked along Watling Street, as well as I could; every creature coming away loaden with goods to save, and here and there sick people carried away in beds. At last met my Lord Mayor in Canning Street, like a man spent, with a handkercher about his neck. To the King's message he 65

cried, like a fainting woman, "Lord! what can I do? I am spent people will not obey me. I have been pulling down houses; but the fire overtakes us faster than we can do it." That he needed no more soldiers; and that for himself, he 70 must go and refresh him self, having been up all night. So he left me, and I him, and walked home, seeing people all almost distracted, and no manner of means used to quench the fire. The houses, too, so very thick thereabouts, and full of matter for burning, as pitch and tar, in Thames Street; and ware75 houses of oil, and wines, and brandy, and other things. And to see the churches all filling with goods by people who themselves should have been quietly there at this time. By this time it was about twelve o'clock; and so home. Soon as dined, I and Moore away, and walked through the 80 City, the streets full of nothing but people and horses, and carts loaden with goods, ready to run over one another, and removing goods from one burned house to another.

Met with the King and Duke of York in their barge, and with them to Queenhithe, and there called Sir Richard Browne 85 to them. Their order was only to pull down houses apace; but little was or could be done, the fire coming upon them so fast. So near the fire as we could for smoke; and all over the Thames, with one's face in the wind, you were almost burned with a shower of fire-drops. This is very true; so as 90 houses were burned by these drops and flakes of fire,

three or four, nay, five or six houses, one from another. When we could endure no more upon the water, we to a little ale-house on the Bankside, over against the Three Cranes, and there stayed till it was dark almost, and saw the fire 95 grow; and as it grew darker, appeared more and more, and in corners and upon steeples, and between churches and houses, as far as we could see up the hill of the city, in a most horrid, malicious, bloody flame, not like the fine flame of an ordinary fire. We stayed till, it being darkish, we saw the