and Eggs, and a large Jug of Milk, compose our simple Breakfast;
for he likes not, as my Father, to see Boys hacking a huge Piece of Beef,
nor cares for heavie feeding, himself. Onlie, olde Mr. _Milton_
sometimes takes a Rasher of toasted Bacon, but commonly, a Basin of
Furmity, which I prepare more to his Minde than the Servants can.

After Breakfast, I well know the Boys' Lessons will last till Noone. I
therefore goe to my Closett Duties after my _Forest Hill_ Fashion; thence
to Market, buy what I neede, come Home, look to my Maids, give forthe
needfulle Stores, then to my Needle, my Books, or perchance to my Lute,
which I woulde faine play better. From twelve to one is the Boys' Hour
of Pastime; and it may generallie be sayd, my Husband's and mine too. He
draws aside the green Curtain,--for we sit mostly in a large Chamber
shaped like the Letter T, and thus divided while at our separate Duties:
my End is the pleasantest, has the Sun most upon it, and hath a Balcony
overlooking a Garden. At one, we dine; always on simple, plain Dishes,
but drest with Neatnesse and Care. Olde Mr. _Milton_ sits at my right
Hand and says Grace; and, though growing a little deaf, enters into alle
the livelie Discourse at Table. He loves me to help him to the
tenderest, by Reason of his Losse of Teeth. My Husband careth not to
sitt over the Wine; and hath noe sooner finished the Cheese and Pippins
than he reverts to the Viol or Organ, and not onlie sings himself, but
will make me sing too, though he sayth my Voice is better than my Ear.
Never was there such a tunefulle Spiritt. He alwaies tears himself away
at laste, as with a Kind of Violence, and returns to his Books at six o'
the Clock. Meantime, his old Father dozes, and I sew at his Side.

From six to eight, we are seldom without Friends, chance Visitants, often
scholarlike and witty, who tell us alle the News, and remain to partake a
light Supper. The Boys enjoy this Season as much as I doe, though with
Books before them, their Hands over their Ears, pretending to con the
Morrow's Tasks. If the Guests chance to be musicalle, the Lute and Viol
are broughte forthe, to alternate with Roundelay and Madrigal: the old
Man beating Time with his feeble Fingers, and now and then joining with
his quavering Voice. (By the way, he hath not forgotten, to this Hour,
my imputed Crime of losing that Song by _Harry Lawes_: my Husband takes
my Part, and sayth it will turn up some Day when