_Ralph Hewlett_ hath just looked in to say, his Father and Mother have in Safetie reached _London_, where he will shortlie joyn them, and to ask, is there anie Service he can doe me? Ay, truly; one that I dare not name--he can bring me Word of Mr. _Milton_, of his Health, of his Looks, of his Speech, and whether . . .
Talking of Money Matters this Morning, _Mother_ sayd Something that brought Tears into mine Eyes. She observed, that though my Husband had never beene a Favourite of hers, there was one Thing wherein she must say he had behaved generously: he had never, to this Day, askt _Father_ for the 500 pounds which had brought him, in the first Instance, to _Forest Hill_, (he having promised old Mr. _Milton_ to try to get the Debt paid,) and the which, on his asking for my Hand, _Father_ tolde him shoulde be made over sooner or later, in lieu of Dower.
Did _Rose_ know the Bitter-sweet she was imparting to me, when she gave me, by Stealth as 'twere, the latelie publisht Volume of my Husband's _English_ Versing? It hath beene my Companion ever since; for I had perused the _Comus_ but by Snatches, under the Disadvantage of crabbed Manuscript. This Morning, to use his owne deare Words:--
I sat me down to watch, upon a Bank, With Ivy canopied, and interwove With flaunting Honeysuckle, and beganne, Wrapt in a pleasing Fit of Melancholic, To meditate.
The Text of my Meditation was this, drawne from the same loved Source:--
This I hold firm: Virtue may be assayled, but never hurt, Surprised by unjust Force, but not enthralled: Yea, even that which Mischief meant most Harm, Shall, in the happy Trial, prove most Glory.
But who hath such Virtue? have I? hath he? No, we have both gone astray, and done amiss, and wrought sinfullie; but I worst, I first, therefore more neede that I humble myself, and pray for both.
There is one, more unhappie, perhaps, than either. The _King_, most misfortunate Gentleman! who knoweth not which Way to turn, nor whom to trust. Last Time I saw him, methought never was there a Face soe full of Woe.
The _King_ hath escaped! He gave Orders overnight at alle the Gates, for three Persons to passe; and, accompanied onlie by Mr. _Ashburnham_, and Mr. _Hurd_, rode forthe at Nightfalle, towards _London_. Sure, he will not throw himselfe into the Hands of Parliament?