in his usual quaint terms and vulgar
sycophancy.
'To Westminster Hall,' says he; 'where I heard how the Parliament had
this day dissolved themselves, and did pass very cheerfully through the
Hall, and the Speaker without his mace. The whole Hall was joyful
thereat, as well as themselves; and now they begin to talk loud of the
king.' And the evening was closed, he further tells us, with a large
bonfire in the Exchange, and people called out, 'God bless King
Charles!'
This was in March 1660; and during that spring Pepys was noting down
how he did not think it possible that my 'Lord Protector,' Richard
Cromwell, should come into power again; how there were great hopes of
the king's arrival; how Monk, the Restorer, was feasted at Mercers' Hall
(Pepys's own especial); how it was resolved that a treaty be offered to
the king, privately; how he resolved to go to sea with 'my lord:' and
how, while they lay at Gravesend, the great affair which brought back
Charles Stuart was virtually accomplished. Then, with various
parentheses, inimitable in their way, Pepys carries on his narrative. He
has left his father's 'cutting-room' to take care of itself; and finds
his cabin little, though his bed is convenient, but is certain, as he
rides at anchor with 'my lord,' in the ship, that the king 'must of
necessity come in,' and the vessel sails round and anchors in Lee Roads.
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