A conceited man, but of no Logique in his head at all
Best poem that ever was wrote (Siege of Rhodes)
French have taken two and sunk one of our merchant-men
Hath sent me masters that do observe that I take pains
How little heed is had to the prisoners and sicke and wounded
How unhppily a man may fall into a necessity of bribing people
Lechery will never leave him
Money I have not, nor can get
Mr. Evelyn's translating and sending me as a present
Poor seamen that lie starving in the streets
Saying me to be the fittest man in England
Searchers with their rods in their hands