So home and to supper with beans and bacon and to bed
So we went to bed and lay all night in a quarrel
So much wine, that I was even almost foxed
So good a nature that he cannot deny any thing
So time do alter, and do doubtless the like in myself
So the children and I rose and dined by ourselves
So home and to bed, where my wife had not lain a great while
So out, and lost our way, which made me vexed
So every thing stands still for money
Softly up to see whether any of the beds were out of order or no
Some merry talk with a plain bold maid of the house
Some ends of my own in what advice I do give her
Sorry in some respect, glad in my expectations in another respec
Sorry for doing it now, because of obliging me to do the like
Sorry to hear that Sir W. Pen's maid Betty was gone away
Sorry thing to be a poor King
Spares not to blame another to defend himself
Sparrowgrass
Speaks rarely, which pleases me mightily
Spends his time here most, playing at bowles
Sport to me to see him so earnest on so little occasion
Sporting in my fancy with the Queen
Staid two hours with her kissing her, but nothing more
Statute against selling of offices
Staying out late, and painting in the absence of her husband
Still in discontent with my wife, to bed, and rose so this morn
Strange slavery that I stand in to beauty
Strange thing how I am already courted by the people
Strange things he has been found guilty of, not fit to name
Strange the folly of men to lay and lose so much money