and Mother completed the Overthrowe of my
Spiritts. I tooke to my Bed; and this is the first Daye I have left
it; nor will they let me send for _Rose_, nor even tell her I am ill.

_Jan. 1, 1644_.

The new Year opens drearilie, on Affairs both publick and private. The
Loaf parted at Breakfast this Morning, which, as the Saying goes, is a
Sign of Separation; but _Mother_ onlie sayd 'twas because it was badly
kneaded, and chid _Margery_. She hath beene telling me, but now, how I
mighte have 'scaped all my Troubles, and seene as much as I woulde of
her and _Father_, and yet have contented Mr. _Milton_ and beene counted
a good Wife. Noe Advice soe ill to bear as that which comes too late.

_Jan. 7, 1644_.

I am sick of this journalling, soe shall onlie put downe the Date of
_Robin's_ leaving Home. _Lord_ have Mercy on him, and keepe him in
Safetie. This is a shorte Prayer; therefore, easier to be often
repeated. When he kissed me, he whispered, "_Moll_, pray for me."

_Jan. 27, 1644_.

_Father_ does not seeme to miss _Robin_ much, tho' he dailie drinks his
Health after that of the King. Perhaps he did not miss me anie more
when I was in _London_, though it was true and naturall enough he
should like to see me agayn. We should have beene used to our
Separation by this Time; there would have beene nothing corroding in
it. . . .

I pray for _Robin_ everie Night. Since he went, the House has lost its
Sunshine. When I was soe anxious to return to _Forest Hill_, I never
counted on his leaving it.

_Feb. 1, 1644_.

Oh Heaven, what would I give to see the Skirts of Mr. _Milton's_
Garments agayn! My Heart is sick unto Death. I have been reading some
of my _Journall_, and tearing out much childish Nonsense at the
Beginning; but coulde not destroy the painfulle Records of the last
Year. How unhappy a Creature am I!--wearie, wearie of my Life, yet no
Ways inclined for Death. _Lord_, have Mercy upon me.

_March 27, 1644_.

I spend much of my Time, now, in the Book-room, and, though I essay not
to pursue the _Latin_, I read much _English_, at the least, more than
ever I did in my Life before; but often I fancy I am reading when I am
onlie dreaming. _Oxford_ is far too gay a Place for me now ever to goe
neare it, but my Brothers are much there, and _Father_ in his Farm, and
_Mother_ in her Kitchen; and the Neighbours, when they call, look on me
strangelie, so that I have noe Love for them.