and could never take the pains with her. Which I acknowledge; but it is because the girl do take musique mighty readily, and she do not, and musique is the thing of the world that I love most.[1]
Mercer, it seems, is sent away for a time; but Mistress Pepys does not gain much thereby.
Pepys is melancholy.[2] He finds that his wife really sings very badly. Mercer returns, and the singing parties begin again; and Mistress Pepys' jealousy likewise.
Walked home … it being a little moonshine and fair weather, and so into the garden, and, with Mercer, sang till my wife put me in mind of its being a fast day,[3] and so I was sorry for it, and stopped.[4]
Mistress Pepys makes desperate efforts to become a musician; she succeeds—very nearly—in singing trills. Her husband loyally gives her credit for her goodwill.
After dinner my wife and Barker[5] fell to singing, which pleased me pretty well, my wife taking mighty pains and proud that she shall come to trill and indeed I think she will.[6]
But virtue, alas, is not rewarded in this world; and the "poor wretch," as Pepys tells us, cannot contrive to sing in tune:
Home to dinner, and before dinner making my wife to sing. Poor wretch! her ear is so bad that it made me angry, till the poor wretch cried to see me so vexed at her, that I think I shall not discourage her so much again … for she hath a great mind to learn, only to please me, and therefore I am mighty unjust in discouraging her so much.[7]
