71
“And now decayed and damaged waxt our food, sore damaging the wasted frame of man, without one comfort, sans one gleam of good, not e’en Hope’s flatt’ering tale nor Fancy vain: Dost think that Sailor of the sturdiest mood, or any Soldier save the Lusitan, perchance, had loyalty so long preservèd both for his King and for the Chief he servèd?