Part 25

The world do not grow old at all

The ceremonies did not please me, they do so overdo them

The rest did give more, and did believe that I did so too

Thence by coach, with a mad coachman, that drove like mad

Thence to Mrs. Martin's, and did what I would with her

There is no passing but by coach in the streets, and hardly that

There eat and drank, and had my pleasure of her twice

There did 'tout ce que je voudrais avec' her

There setting a poor man to keep my place

There is no man almost in the City cares a turd for him

There being ten hanged, drawn, and quartered

These young Lords are not fit to do any service abroad

These Lords are hard to be trusted

They were so false spelt that I was ashamed of them

They want where to set their feet, to begin to do any thing

This day churched, her month of childbed being out

This absence makes us a little strange instead of more fond

This week made a vow to myself to drink no wine this week

This day I began to put on buckles to my shoes

This unhappinesse of ours do give them heart

This kind of prophane, mad entertainment they give themselves

Those absent from prayers were to pay a forfeit

Those bred in the North among the colliers are good for labour

Though he knows, if he be not a fool, that I love him not

Thus it was my chance to see the King beheaded at White Hall

Tied our men back to back, and thrown them all into the sea

To Mr. Holliard's in the morning, thinking to be let blood

To be enjoyed while we are young and capable of these joys