Cannot but be with the workmen to see things done to my mind
Care not for his commands, and especially on Sundays
Catched cold yesterday by putting off my stockings
Charles Barkeley’s greatness is only his being pimp to the King
Comb my head clean, which I found so foul with powdering
Command of an army is not beholden to any body to make him King
Deliver her from the hereditary curse of child-bearing
Did much insist upon the sin of adultery
Discontented at the pride and luxury of the Court
Discoursed much against a man’s lying with his wife in Lent
Enjoy some degree of pleasure now that we have health, money
Fanatiques do say that the end of the world is at hand
Fear she should prove honest and refuse and then tell my wife
Fearing that Sarah would continue ill, wife and I removed
God forgive me! what a mind I had to her
Goldsmiths in supplying the King with money at dear rates
Hard matter to settle to business after so much leisure
Hate in others, and more in myself, to be careless of keys
He made but a poor sermon, but long
Holes for me to see from my closet into the great office
Hopes to have had a bout with her before she had gone
I fear that it must be as it can, and not as I would
I know not yet what that is, and am ashamed to ask
Joyne the lion’s skin to the fox’s tail
King dined at my Lady Castlemaine’s, and supped, every day
Lady Castlemaine do speak of going to lie in at Hampton Court
Lady Castlemaine is still as great with the King
Lady Castlemaine’s interest at Court increases
Last of a great many Presbyterian ministers
Laughing and jeering at every thing that looks strange
Let me blood, about sixteen ounces, I being exceedingly full
Lord! to see the absurd nature of Englishmen
Lust and wicked lives of the nuns heretofore in England
Lying a great while talking and sporting in bed with my wife
Muske Millon
My Jane’s cutting off a carpenter’s long mustacho
My first attempt being to learn the multiplication-table
No good by taking notice of it, for the present she forbears
Only wind do now and then torment me . . . extremely
Parliament hath voted 2s. per annum for every chimney in England
Parson is a cunning fellow he is as any of his coat
Peruques of hair, as the fashion now is for ladies to wear
Pleasures are not sweet to me now in the very enjoying of them
Raising of our roofs higher to enlarge our houses
See her look dejectedly and slighted by people already
See a dead man lie floating upon the waters
Sermon; but, it being a Presbyterian one, it was so long
She so cruel a hypocrite that she can cry when she pleases
She also washed my feet in a bath of herbs, and so to bed
Short of what I expected, as for the most part it do fall out
Sir W. Pen did it like a base raskall, and so I shall remember
Slight answer, at which I did give him two boxes on