iij cupps of Bouillon (wᶜʰ is a Tea, or Tisane, of Beafe, made verie hott & thinne) iv Alberte biscuit ij éclairs i creame-cake
together with divers small cates and comfeits whᵒᶠ I know not yᵉ names.
So yᵗ I was grievously afeared for Her Digestion, leste it be over-tax’d. Saide this to Her, however addinge it was my Conceite, yᵗ by some Processe, lyke Alchemie, whᵇʸ yᵉ baser metals are transmuted into golde, so yᵉ grosse mortall foode was on Her lippes chang’d to yᵉ fabled Nectar & Ambrosia of yᵉ Gods.--She tolde me ’t was a sillie Speache, yet seam’d not ill-pleas’d withall.--She hath a verie prettie Fashion, or Tricke, of smilinge, when She hath made an end of speakinge, and layinge Her finger upon Her nether Lippe, like as She wolde bid it be stille.--After some more Talke, whⁱⁿ She show’d that Her Witt was more deepe, and Her minde more seriouslie inclin’d, than I had Thoughte from our first Jestinge, She beinge call’d to go thence, I did see Her mother, whose face I knewe, & was made sensible, yᵗ I had given my Hearte to yᵉ daughter of a House wh. with myne owne had longe been at grievous Feud, for yᵉ folly of oure Auncestres.--Havinge come to wh. heavie momente in my Tale, I have no Patience to write more to-nighte.
I was mynded to write no more in yˢ journall, for verie Shame’s sake, yᵗ I shoude so complayne, lyke a Childe, whose toie is taken fᵐ him, butt (mayhapp for it is nowe yᵉ fulle Moone, & a moste greavous period for them yᵗ are Love-strucke) I am fayne, lyke yᵉ Drunkarde who maye not abstayne fᵐ his cupp, to sett me anewe to recordinge of My Dolorous mishapp.--When I sawe Her agayn, She beinge aware of my name, & of yᵉ division betwixt oure Houses, wolde have none of me, butt I wolde not be putt Off, & made bolde to question Her, why She sholde showe me suche exceedᵍ Coldness.--She answer’d ’twas wel knowne what Wronge my Grandefather had done Her G.father.--I saide, She confounded me with My G.father--we were nott yᵉ same Persone, he beinge muche my Elder, & besydes Dead.--She wᵈ have it, ’twas no matter for jestinge.--I tolde Her I wolde be resolv’d, what grete Wronge yⁱˢ was.--Yᵉ more for to make Speache thⁿ for mine owne advertisemᵗ, for I knewe wel yᵉ whole Knaverie, wh. She rehears’d, Howe my G.father had cheated Her G.father of Landes upp yᵉ River, with more, howe my G.father had impounded yᵉ Cattle of Hern.--I made answer, ’twas foolishnesse, in my mynde, for yᵉ iiiᵈ Generation to so quarrell over a Parsel of rascallie Landes, yᵗ had long ago beene solde for Taxes, yᵗ as to yᵉ Cowes, I wolde make them goode, & thʳ Produce & Offspringe, if it tooke yᵉ whole Washᵗⁿ Markett.--She however tolde me yᵗ yᵉ Ffrenche family had yᵉ where wᵃˡ to buye what they lack’d in Butter, Beafe & Milke, and likewise in _Veale_, wh. laste I tooke muche to Hearte, wh. She seeinge, became more gracious &, on my pleadinge, accorded yᵗ I sholde have yᵉ Privilege to speake with Her when we next met.--Butt neyther then, nor at any other Tyme thᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ wolde She suffer me to visitt Her. So I was harde putt to it to compass waies of gettinge to see Her at such Houses as She mighte be att, for Routs or Feasts, or yᵉ lyke.--