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Updated: May 1, 2025
The coffin, in short, was stuff'd with Delia's silverware. I had pick'd up a great flagon, and was turning it over to read the inscription, when Matt. Soames call'd to me, and pointed over the hill in front. Above it the whole sky was red and glowing. "Sure," said he, "'tis a fire out yonder!" "God help us, Matt. 'tis the House of Gleys!"
'Can'st thou not minister to a mind diseas'd; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; Raze out the written troubles of the brain; And, with some sweet oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart? To which Dr. Brocklesby readily answered, from the same great poet: therein the patient Must minister to himself.
'not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart." "What a memory you have! But you don't think I can do that any more than you?" "You know the best medicine to give, anyhow. I wish I always did.
I can handle 'em if they haul in the slack and make fast." "No, you can't," said the captain calmly. "You couldn't get twenty feet from shore. We got to wait till the tide cleans this wood out. It's workin' right now. They kin stand it for a while. Certain death to bring 'em through that smother that stuff'd knock the brains out of 'em fast as they dropped into it.
"I was just terribly upset," she found herself explaining almost naturally, "because I suddenly found myself eating the oyster cocktail with the coffee spoon." "Oh, isn't this the right implement?" queried Mr. Brown, contemplating his spoon. "Well, if you ask ME, I'm glad you started off with it this soupy stuff'd be the mischief to get away with with a fork."
After all, it is something, whatever becomes of us, to have been conscious of all this. It is something to have outwatched Arcturus, and felt "the sweet influences" of the Pleiades. Congruous with such a mood is the manner in which, while Mr. Hardy opposes himself to Christianity, he cannot forget it. He cannot "cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon the heart."
"Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart?"
That pollicy pleades no excuse; you yet Had men enough, had they bene soldiers, Fit for a Leaders Justification. And doe not we know that 6 score at least Of those base Picaros with which you stuff'd The fort, to feed, not fight, unworthy of The name of Spanyards, much lesse of soldiers At once ran all away like sheep together, Having but ore the walls descryde th'approach Of th'Enemy?
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