Of pigs and passes

14 November, in the year of our Lord 2021

Yesterday a deliverie boy did bring my Covey Pass, which I did find contained within the hunter case of a pocketwatch, with a hinged cover, all in gold, and a gold chain come with it to fasten to a button on my waistcoat; all very fine. But the Pass itself a ridiculous thing such as I never saw before, for though it be ennammelled in a delicate fashion, it lacks all colour and appears as little more than an excited chequerboard, all tiny tiles of black and white, though a fine cloisonné edge to finish the border. Yet I did need it, for today up and by coach with Mr. Jones to dinner at The London Carriageworks, and then a-cross the road purposing to hear a Selection of Fine Musique performed by a band, most distinguished; but before in must show our Covey passes, which we did, the steward saying (so that all could hear) that he not seen one like mine before, which did make me very contented for buying such a handsome piece; and indeed on our comparing them, myself and Mr. Jones, I did think my arrangement of black and white squares to present a fashion more aesthetick and pleasing than his, and commented as we did find our seats that I was much joyed that with them we may do as we please for as long as the Plague troubles the land. He was to reply, I think, when up struck all the musiciens on the stage, many violons and all manner of shawms and sackbutts, and kettle drums, and all made a very great noise playing together. And the best of them was two men from Venerzeuala, which were friends, I think, of the man they put in charge of all the Musique we did hear, who come hither, one playing loudly upon a square lute, strumming fit to break its guts, such as I never heard in my entire life, while the other set before himself no fewer than three Trompettes, which he played, one after the other, and all thought he played the most remarkable they ever heard, especially a woman in the band who only had a Violla. In the second part was played a work called a Concerto for All the Instruments of the Orchestra, Wrote to Display the Singularity of Every One and the Prowess of Every Player, in Five Mouvements, by a Hungerian called Mr. Bantock, only I did not enjoy it as much, for in the Interval Mr. Jones explayned that I must buy a new Covey pass in less than 30 days.


24 November, in the year of our Lord 2021

Today comes news to dampen the spirits of all, that there is a new varyant of the Covey plague, which they find in Affricka, which might pass, from person to person, with a greater ease, and so evade our vaxines. Also that a great storm is to break out, with wind and rain, hayle and snow, which makes me fear for the roof of the house, and in perticular a little finiall, which is on my sunroom and moves in the merest breeze.
  After supper, Mr. Jones complayned about the matter of pigs, which is now daily, which hath made him mighty angry, for not only hath there again been there the great sow, but also along come her piglets, which are now grown up, having broken out, and all have been a-snout and rooting in the soil outside his house, so all the grass about his house, which is little for it grows not well where he lives, is now a great swamp of mire and muck, and in the houses all around is a very great degree of discontent that the pigs are free to roam, with all saying that if the man who owns them cannot control them they will have recourse to the Constabulary. But Mr Jones hath made a complaynte to the Company of Players that with all their coming and going his track is close unfit for passing, so the Principal of the actors Troupe hath agreed that in addicion to ground rent for the Port-a-Lieu, and above the payment by the hour for the use of his garderobe, they shall pay for a ton of Aggregate against all the mud, and today a man come to fill in the pot Holes with it.

By andywmacfarlane

I am a retired medic who likes messing around with a bit of writing, and friends seemed to like my social media postings of "Samuel Pepys: The Covid Diaries". So I'm having a go at blogging them.

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