“Being weary (I) turned into St Dunstan's Church, where I hear an able sermon from the minister of the place. And stood by a pretty, modest maid whom I did labour to take by the hand and the body, but she would not, but got further and further from me, and at last I could perceive her to take pins out of her pocket to prick me if I should touch her again; which seeing I did forbear, and was glad I did espy her design. And then I fell to gaze upon another pretty maid in a pew close to me and she on me; and I did go about to take her by the hand, which she suffered a little and then withdrew. So the sermon ended and the church broke up, and my amours ended also.”
So wrote Samuel Pepys in 1667. And in 2009, being knackered, I turned into St Dunstan's Church (now St Dunstan-In-The-West), where I hear an able lunchtime piano recital from Simon Callaghan. And I fell to gaze upon an elderly lady in a pew close to me, but she not on me for her eyes were closed and she smiled and slowly rocked her head to the music of Chopin.
Showing posts with label Simon Callaghan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Simon Callaghan. Show all posts
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