There is ſome ſoule of goodneſſe in things euill, / VVould men obſeruingly diſtill it out.

An’ he met wi’ zome yew-twigs the men had a-cast Vrom the yew-tree, in churchyard, the road that he past. He wer pweison’d. (1.) O dear, ’tis a hard loss to bear, Vor a tranter’s whole bread is a-lost wi’ his meäre;

They had been slowly trailing the freighter for over a week, waiting for the ship to drop out of FTL.

Only after he had ceased dreaming of them and thrown off his crushing burden of transcendental morality – only thus and then could he hope to rise out of the slough of despond in which he wallowed.