9 June, in the year of our Lord 2021
Up, and after breakfast by coach to visit my mother and father, whence with my father to the Hospitalle, where they again laid him, as he tells me, upon a stretcher, while one pushed and another pulled him slowly through the Contryvance that shines the magick light through his body, to make another etching of what is inside, it being three month since the last; but they did not allow me to be with him for fear of the Covey plague. By and by home, he with me in good humour, save that he will not know the outcome of the business for some days, which makes him ill at ease.
10 June, in the year of our Lord 2021
Up, and with the comfort of discourse with my mother and father, after dinner I to Mr. Brady’s shop on the King’s Way in Warren town, where I have not been for thirty five years, or more, where I purposed to listen, by arrangement, to a new Musical Box, for my old hath broke and the big silver coins that make it sound are of no use, to which I must add that they are all a-spill upon the floors of the house, there being no more room upon shelfs for them. And there one Jon shew me his latest invencion, which I think to buy, whereby the Contrapcion accepts one of the big silver coins into itself, commits to its memory what is on it, and spits it out — then Lord! but at a touch of a magick screen it will sound with all the music it has learned, which I did never think to hear in my life. And it is of an excellent good qualitie, as if an entire band of practiced fiddlers, trumpets and kettle-drums, or all the entire Chapel Royal, were in the very room. Discoursed there for an hour and a half upon the Musick of the lute, which I found much to the liking of the fellow Jon. He knows a fine lutenist who will play by invitacion in a Skandinavican church near Mr. Lewises shoppe, on Park lane, which I think he told me was St. Olave’s but is surely not correckt, for I am buried in St. Olave’s and never heard a lute there. Thence to see if Mr. Ian Jones and his wife Regina was home, where they were, and merry discourse and a fine afternoon tea of scones with jam and some rich cream. And there Mr. Jones shew me a circlet akin to musical tiara onlie it is set on the back of the head, and sits upon the ears like the arms of my eye glasses, but the other way round; and the music from it cometh not into the ear, nor doth an ear piece block the Canals, but it doth touch the calvarium at the temples, and so transmits its sounds through the Petrous bone — it being such a fine piece of work that I am determined I shall have my own Æropex, by Aftershokz (which it is called). And so home by Mr. M. Jones house for supper, and to bed.