I
saw the dortoire [Dormitory.] and the cells of the priests, and
we went into one; a very pretty little room, very clean, hung
with pictures, set with books. The Priest was in his cell, with
his hair clothes to his skin, bare-legged with a sandall only on,
and his little bed without sheets, and no feather-bed; but yet I
thought, soft enough. His cord about his middle; but in so good
company, living with ease, I thought it a very good life. A
pretty library they have. And I was in the refectoire, where
every man his napkin, knife, cup of earth, and basin of the same;
and a place for one to sit and read while the rest are at meals.
And into the kitchen I went, where a good neck of mutton at the
fire, and other victuals boiling. I do not think they fared very
hard. Their windows all looking into a fine garden and the Park;
and mighty pretty rooms all. I wished myself one of the
Capuchins. To the King's house, and there saw "The Humerous
Lieutenant:" [A tragi-comedy, by Beaumont and Fletcher.] a silly
play, I think; only the Spirit in it that grows very tall and
then sinks again to nothing, having two heads breeding upon one,
and then Knipp's singing, did please us.
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