ozen Roger told us a thing certain,
that the Archbishop of Canterbury; that now is, do keep a wench, and that
he is as very a wencher as can be; and tells us it is a thing publickly
known that Sir Charles Sidley had got away one of the Archbishop's wenches
from him, and the Archbishop sent to him to let him know that she was his
kinswoman, and did wonder that he would offer any dishonour to one related
to him. To which Sir Charles Sidley is said to answer, "A pox take his
Grace! pray tell his Grace that I believe he finds himself too old, and is
afraid that I should outdo him among his girls, and spoil his trade." But
he makes no more of doubt to say that the Archbishop is a wencher, and
known to be so, which is one of the most astonishing things that I have
heard of, unless it be, what for certain he says is true, that my Lady
Castlemayne hath made a Bishop lately, namely,--her uncle, Dr. Glenham,
who, I think they say, is Bishop of Carlisle; a drunken, swearing rascal,
and a scandal to the Church; and do now pretend to be Bishop of Lincoln,
in competition with Dr. Raynbow, who is reckoned as worthy a man as most
in the Church for piety and learning: which are things so scandalous to
consider, that no man can doubt but we must be undone that hears of them.
After dinner comes W. How and a son of Mr. Pagett's to see me, with whom I
drank, but could not stay, and so by coach with cozen Roger (who before
his going did acquaint me in private with an offer made of his marrying of
Mrs. Elizabeth Wiles, whom I know; a kinswoman of Mr. Honiwood's, an ugly
old maid, but a good housewife; and is said to have L2500 to her portion;
but if I can find that she hath but L2000, which he prays me to examine,
he says he will have her, she being one he hath long known intimately, and
a good housewife, and discreet woman; though I am against it in my heart,
she being not handsome at all) and it hath been the very bad fortune of
the Pepyses that ever I knew, never to marry an handsome woman, excepting
Ned Pepys and Creed, set the former down at the Temple resolving to go to
Cambridge to-morrow, and Creed and I to White Hall to the Treasury chamber
there to attend, but in vain, only here, looking out of the window into
the garden, I saw the King (whom I have not had any desire to see since
the Dutch come upon the coast first to Sheerness, for shame that I should
see him, or he me, methinks, after such a dishonour) come upon the garden;
with h