'
The hopes of the Cavalier party are hourly increasing, and those of
Pepys we may be sure also; for Pim, the tailor, spends a morning in his
cabin 'putting a great many ribbons to a sail.' And the king is to be
brought over suddenly, 'my lord' tells him: and indeed it looks like it,
for the sailors are drinking Charles's health in the streets of Deal, on
their knees; 'which, methinks,' says Pepys, 'is a little too much;' and
'methinks' so, worthy Master Pepys, also.
Then how the news of the Parliamentary vote of the king's declaration
was received! Pepys becomes eloquent.
'He that can fancy a fleet (like ours) in her pride, with pendants
loose, guns roaring, caps flying, and the loud "_Vive le Roi!_" echoed
from one ship's company to another; he, and he only, can apprehend the
joy this enclosed vote was received with, or the blessing he thought
himself possessed of that bore it.'
Next, orders come for 'my lord' to sail forthwith to the king; and the
painters and tailors set to work, Pepys superintending, 'cutting out
some pieces of yellow cloth in the fashion of a crown and C. R.; and
putting it upon a fine sheet'--and that is to supersede the States'
arms, and is finished and set up.
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