Whereof some live spark haply lurks 'mid the embers
Which choke in my brain. Talk of "Gilead and balm"?
I mind me, sung half through, this gave such a qualm
To Asmodeus inside of a Hussite, that, queasy,
He broke forth in brimstone with curses. I'm strong
In—at least the commencement: the rest should go easy,
Friends helping. "Ne pulvis et ignis" ...
Sixth Friend. All wrong!
Fifth Friend. I 've conned till I captured the whole.
Seventh Friend. Get along!