| 1 | 0–58 | 476 | unassigned | | Look you so strange my hearts, to see our limbs Thus suited in a Hunter's livery? Oh 'tis a lovely habit, when… |
| 2 | 59–98 | 497 | unassigned | | Brother be advised, The importunity of you and these, Thrusts my free thoughts into the yoke of love, To groan… |
| 3 | 99–140 | 505 | unassigned | | Thou needst not, in a painted coat goes sin, And loves those that love pride; none looks on thee, Then keep me… |
| 4 | 141–198 | 463 | unassigned | | Let not thy tongue go so: sit down to work And that our labour may not seem to long, we'll cunningly beguile i… |
| 5 | 199–259 | 501 | unassigned | | Peace fool, welcome my son, though I am poor My love shall not be so: go daughter Grissel, Fetch water from th… |
| 6 | 260–326 | 495 | T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat | 0.81 | Nay then you jest, women have eagles eyes, To pry even to the heart, and why not you? Come, we stand fairly, f… |
| 7 | 327–368 | 500 | unassigned | | I'll gild that poverty and make it shine, With beams of dignity: this base attire, These Ladies shall tear of,… |
| 8 | 369–394 | 492 | T41 Household service: masters, doors and po | 0.80 | ay, ay, youare best take me up for your foul: are not you he, that came speaking so? to Grissel here, do you r… |
| 9 | 395–415 | 499 | unassigned | | What else man, that's one of the miserable vows he makes when he's dubbed: yet he doth but as many of his brot… |
| 10 | 416–439 | 500 | unassigned | | By Cods udge me is all true, and to give her a great teale of bloody nose, because Sir Emuloes you shallenge t… |
| 11 | 440–468 | 504 | unassigned | | What's here lathes? where's the lime & hair Emulo, Oh rare, is this to save his shins? Ha, ha, Rice go call Gw… |
| 12 | 469–504 | 496 | unassigned | | By Cod Wales is better country than Italy's, a great teale so better. Now if her cousin Gualther say Gwenthyan… |
| 13 | 505–524 | 484 | unassigned | | I as they do at barleybreak. Your wife is your ape, and that heavy burden wedlock, your Jack an ape's clog, th… |
| 14 | 525–590 | 478 | T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint | 0.76 | I will. It is enough, those words I will, Yields sweeter music than the gilded sounds, Which chatting parrots … |
| 15 | 591–662 | 497 | unassigned | | Poor Grissel is not proud of these attires, They are to me but as you livery, And from your humble servant whe… |
| 16 | 663–725 | 492 | unassigned | | Your virtuous wife. Call her not virtuous, For I abhor her, did not her swollen eyes Look red with hate or sco… |
| 17 | 726–765 | 500 | unassigned | | That you cannot be Master, for you are but a courtier's man. Thou sayst true & thou art the courtier's man's b… |
| 18 | 766–806 | 493 | unassigned | | Little said is soon amended, thou sayst but little, and that little will be mended soon indeed, that's never, … |
| 19 | 807–866 | 503 | unassigned | | Farewell simplicity, part of my shame farewell, Now Lady what say you of their exile? whatever you think good,… |
| 20 | 867–900 | 513 | T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour | 0.82 | Come signor, one fine lie now to apparel all these former, in some light sarsenet rob of truth: none, none, in… |
| 21 | 901–937 | 488 | unassigned | | Why cozen what are her qualities that you so commend her? Commend her? no by God not I, ha ha: is know her qua… |
| 22 | 938–961 | 481 | unassigned | | Rees is better preak Rees his pate: here Rees carry her home. Would I were at gallows, so I were not here: Do … |
| 23 | 962–999 | 484 | unassigned | | But will her say no more hang herself? Oh no more, as God udge me no more, pray leave, owe, owe, owe. Tannekin… |
| 24 | 1000–1058 | 480 | unassigned | | So like my Lord, that the nice difference, Would stay the judgement of the curious't eye. And yet methinks I a… |
| 25 | 1059–1116 | 476 | unassigned | | My Lord they'll wrawl, what shall I do with them? Tell her thou must provide a nurse for them Comes she not ba… |
| 26 | 1117–1177 | 491 | unassigned | | I pray thee let them suck I am most meet, To play their Nurse: they'll smile and say 'tis sweet, Which streams… |
| 27 | 1178–1239 | 481 | unassigned | | Away with her I say. Away, away? Nothing but that cold comfort we'll obey, Heaven smile upon my Lord with grac… |
| 28 | 1240–1292 | 482 | T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig | 0.77 | Peace my son, I thought by learning thou hadst been made wise, But I perceive it puffeth up thy soul, Thou tak… |
| 29 | 1293–1351 | 496 | unassigned | | Then will not I inquire, thou dost but jest I know thou must not rob me, 'tis to try If I love them: no, no, h… |
| 30 | 1352–1393 | 501 | unassigned | | Try all their golden baits, stay never run, They can do no more wrong than they have done. What ails my Grisse… |
| 31 | 1394–1411 | 495 | unassigned | | Awl these fittels is made for Cousin marquess: Sir Owen is gone to fetch him, but Sir owen has anger her Lady.… |
| 32 | 1412–1444 | 485 | unassigned | | Sir Owen Meredith is all this true? True, et is true I warrant her pogs on her too true. You told his Grace yo… |
| 33 | 1445–1462 | 471 | unassigned | | If he follow that vocation well, he'll prove wealthy in wit. He had need for his head is very poor. Well mistr… |
| 34 | 1463–1507 | 481 | T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat | 0.80 | Furio hie thee to old Ianicola's, Charge him, his daughter Grissel, and his Son To come to Court, to do such o… |
| 35 | 1508–1547 | 474 | unassigned | | A Scholar doth disdain to spend his spirits, Upon such base employments as hand labours. Good Furio vanish, we… |
| 36 | 1548–1604 | 470 | unassigned | | Grissel is patient madam, be you pleased. Well, and she be so baselies minded 'tis well, but I know whad I kno… |
| 37 | 1605–1672 | 498 | unassigned | | Song. Beauty arise, show forth thy glorious shining, Thine eyes feed Love, for them he standeth pining, Honour… |
| 38 | 1673–1738 | 518 | unassigned | | It never touched my heart, adversity Dwells still with them that dwells with misery, But mild content hath eas… |
| 39 | 1739–1768 | 492 | unassigned | | Our pardon and our love circle thee round, Let's all to banquet, mirth our cares confound. Hold, hold, hold, b… |
| 40 | 1769–1777 | 500 | unassigned | | By Cod is love her out a cry now, sir owen could tame her before, but Prittish ploude scorns to side with Lati… |