law hath over all other people Afeard of being louzy Afeard that my Lady Castlemaine will keep still with the King Afraid now to bring in any accounts for journeys After taking leave of my wife, which we could hardly do kindly After awhile I caressed her and parted seeming friends After many protestings by degrees I did arrive at what I would After dinner my wife comes up to me and all friends again After oysters, at first course, a hash of rabbits, a lamb After some pleasant talk, my wife, Ashwell, and I to bed After a harsh word or two my wife and I good friends Again that she spoke but somewhat of what she had in her heart Agreed at L3 a year (she would not serve under) All ended in love All the men were dead of the plague, and the ship cast ashore All made much worse in their report among people than they are All the fleas came to him and not to me All divided that were bred so long at school together All may see how slippery places all courtiers stand in All things to be managed with faction All the innocent pleasure in the world All the towne almost going out of towne (Plague panic) Ambassador—­that he is an honest man sent to lie abroad Amending of bad blood by borrowing from a better body Among all the beauties there, my wife was thought the greatest Among many lazy people that the diligent man becomes necessary An exceeding pretty lass, and right for the sport An offer of L500 for a Baronet’s dignity And for his beef, says he, “Look how fat it is” And the woman so silly, as to let her go that took it And if ever I fall on it again, I deserve to be undone And will not kiss a woman since his wife’s death And a deal of do of which I am weary And they did lay pigeons to his feet And there, did what I would with her And so to sleep till the morning, but was bit cruelly And so to bed and there entertained her with great content And all to dinner and sat down to the King saving myself And feeling for a chamber-pott, there was none And with the great men in curing of their claps And so to bed, my father lying with me in Ashwell’s bed And in all this not so much as one And so by coach, though hard to get it, being rainy, home Angling with a minikin, a gut-string varnished over Angry, and so continued till bed, and did not sleep friends Anthem anything but instrumentall musique with the voice Apprehend about one hundred Quakers Apprehension of the King of France’s invading us Aptness I have to be troubled at any thing that crosses me Archbishop is a wencher, and known to be so As much his friend as his interest will let him As very a gossip speaking of her neighbours as any body As all other women, cry, and yet talk of other things As he called it, the King’s seventeenth whore abroad As all things else did not come up to my expectations Ashamed at myself for this losse of time Asleep, while the wench sat mending my breeches by my bedside At work, till I was almost blind, which makes my heart sad At least 12 or 14,000 people in the street (to see the hanging) At a loss whether