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Updated: June 5, 2025
For this famous utterance, see notes of conversations given by Christoph, Burggraf von Dohna, in July, 1608, in Briefe und Acten zur Geschichte des Dreissigjahrigen Krieges, Munchen, 1874, p. 79. Sarpi was now spoken of, more than ever, both among friends and foes, as the "terribile frate."
'Eez, zur, he would reply, 'uz did thuck job isterday. His master had ordered him to do it the day before, but was oblivious that twenty-four hours had passed. The middle-aged men stood this continuous drinking without much harm, their constitutions having become hardened and 'set, but it killed off numbers of the younger men.
"Good Lord! will you never open?" "We'll freeze, I tell you!" shouted the doctor. "Open the Ha! Thank you," in a mollified way, as Skipper Jonas opened the door; and then, most engagingly: "May we come in?" "An' welcome, zur," said the hearty Jonas, "whoever you be! 'Tis gettin' t' be a wild night." "Thank you. Yes a wild night. Glad to catch sight of your light from the top of the hill.
He held by the bridle what of all things they most wanted a palfrey, namely, with a side-saddle, and all other garniture for a woman's mounting; and he hailed Wayland Smith with, "Zur, be ye zure the party?"
Seeing these views I could conjure up visions of rooks cawing in the elms; of young curates in flat hats imbibing tea on green lawns; of housekeepers named Meadows or Fleming, in rustling black silk; of old Giles fifty years, man and boy, on the place wearing a smock frock and leaning on a pitchfork, with a wisp of hay caught in the tines, lamenting that the 'All 'asn't been the same, zur, since the young marster was killed ridin' to 'ounds; and then pensively wiping his eyes on a stray strand of the hay.
"Ay, zur; a quarter of five." "Well, no," he drawled. "Half after nine." "'Tis a sheer waste o' time," I protested. "But 'twill suit me, zur, an it pleases you. My sister will tell me the hour." "Your sister?" he asked, quickly. "Bessie," said I. "Ah," he exclaimed, "she was your sister. I saw her there that night. And she is your sister?" "You got it right," cried I, proudly. "That's my sister!"
"Just this minute, zur," said the skipper, in a glow of delighted astonishment. "It come t' me all t' oncet." "An' what is it?" "'Tis a sort o' book, zur!" "A book?" "Ay, 'tis just a book. Find out all the cures in the world an' put un in a book. Get the doctor-women's, an' the healers', an' the real doctor's, an' put un right in a book. Has you got the dip-theria? Ask the book what t' do.
Stanislaw Przybyszewski in his "Zur Psychologie des Individuums" approaches the morbid Chopin the Chopin who threw open to the world the East, who waved his chromatic wand to Liszt, Tschaikowsky, Saint-Saens, Goldmark, Rubinstein, Richard Strauss, Dvorak and all Russia with its consonantal composers.
"'I do call to mind, zur, what old Squire did use to zay to me: "Billy," 'e zays, "your grandchildren won't be fed, nor they won't 'ave the cottages, nor yet the clothes as you 'ave and your children. As zure as God's in Gloucester" 'e zays. They was rare old times, zur, and they be gawn." "What made you think of it, Barbara? I don't suppose he ever said two words to old Billy in his life."
Indeed, it was very still, very solemn, lying in the long, crimson swell of the great deep, while the dusk came creeping over the sea. "I do not wonder," the doctor muttered, with a shudder, "that the people who dwell here fear God." There was something familiar to me in that feeling; but for the moment I could not make it out. "Zur?" I said.
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