of
Yorke relating to him the badness of our condition in this office for
want of money. That being in good time done we met at the office and
there sat all the morning. At noon home, where I find my wife troubled
still at my checking her last night in the coach in her long stories out
of Grand Cyrus, which she would tell, though nothing to the purpose, nor
in any good manner.

[Sir Walter Scott observes, in his "Life of Dryden," that the
romances of Calprenede and Scuderi, those ponderous and unmerciful
folios, now consigned to oblivion, were, in their day, not only
universally read and admired, but supposed to furnish the most
perfect models of gallantry and heroism. Dr. Johnson read them all.
"I have," says Mrs. Chapone, "and yet I am still alive, dragged
through 'Le Grand Cyrus,' in twelve huge volumes; 'Cleopatra,' in
eight or ten; 'Ibrahim,' 'Clelie,' and some others, whose names, as
well as all the rest of them, I have forgotten" ("Letters to Mrs.
Carter"). No wonder that Pepys sat on thorns, when his wife began
to recite "Le Grand Cyrus" in the coach, "and trembled at the
impending tale."--B.]

This she took unkindly, and I think I was to blame indeed; but she do
find with reason, that in the company of Pierce, Knipp, or other women
that I love, I do not value her, or mind her as I ought. However very
good friends by and by, and to dinner, and after dinner up to the
putting our dining room in order, which will be clean again anon, but
not as it is to be because of the pictures which are not come home.
To the office and did much business, in the evening to Westminster and
White Hall about business and among other things met Sir G. Downing on
White Hall bridge, and there walked half an hour, talking of the success
of the late new Act; and indeed it is very much, that that hath stood
really in the room of L800,000 now since Christmas, being itself but
L1,250,000. And so I do really take it to be a very considerable thing
done by him; for the beginning, end, and every part of it, is to be
imputed to him. So home by water, and there hard till 12 at night at
work finishing the great letter to the Duke of Yorke against to-morrow
morning, and so home to bed. This day come home again my little girle
Susan, her sicknesse proving an ague, and she had a fit soon almost
as she come home. The fleete is not yet gone from the Nore. The plague
encreases in many place