ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
Mynors Bright translation
And so to sleep till the morning, but was bit cruelly And there, did what I would with her Content as to be at our own home, after being abroad awhile Found guilty, and likely will be hanged (for stealing spoons) Half a pint of Rhenish wine at the Still-yard, mixed with beer His readiness to speak spoilt all No more matter being made of the death of one than another Out of an itch to look upon the sluts there Plague is much in Amsterdam, and we in fears of it here Pride himself too much in it Reckon nothing money but when it is in the bank Resolve to live well and die a beggar Scholler, that would needs put in his discourse (every occasion) She was so ill as to be shaved and pidgeons put to her feet The plague is got to Amsterdam, brought by a ship from Argier We having no luck in maids now-a-days Who is over head and eares in getting her house up