kizolk
Indecisive 
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Post by kizolk on Mar 30, 2024 22:07:45 GMT
In other words, there is a ghost.
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Post by Pacifica on Mar 30, 2024 22:27:59 GMT
touched the forbearance...
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kizolk
Indecisive
Posts: 5,454
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Post by kizolk on Mar 30, 2024 22:36:01 GMT
No. In a way, it makes it sound like they owe him that.
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Post by Pacifica on Mar 30, 2024 22:41:46 GMT
his late measles
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Post by Pacifica on Mar 30, 2024 22:42:21 GMT
tapped the forbearance
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kizolk
Indecisive
Posts: 5,454
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Post by kizolk on Mar 30, 2024 22:43:07 GMT
Then came the measles. During two long weeks Tom lay a prisoner, dead to the world and its happenings. He was very ill, he was interested in nothing. When he got upon his feet at last and moved feebly down town, a melancholy change had come over everything and every creature. There had been a " revival," and everybody had "got religion," not only the adults, but even the boys and girls. Tom went about, hoping against hope for the sight of one blessed sinful face, but disappointment crossed him everywhere. He found Joe Harper studying a Testament, and turned sadly away from the depressing spectacle. He sought Ben Rogers, and found him visiting the poor with a basket of tracts. He hunted up Jim Hollis, who called his attention to the precious blessing of his late measles as a warning. Every boy he encountered added another ton to his depression; and when, in desperation, he flew for refuge at last to the bosom of Huckleberry Finn and was received with a scriptural quotation, his heart broke and he crept home and to bed realizing that he alone of all the town was lost, forever and forever. And that night there came on a terrific storm, with driving rain, awful claps of thunder and blinding sheets of lightning. He covered his head with the bedclothes and waited in a horror of suspense for his doom; for he had not the shadow of a doubt that all this hubbub was about him. He believed he had t____ (one syllable) the forbearance of the powers above to the extremity of endurance and that this was the result. It might have seemed to him a waste of pomp and ammunition to kill a bug with a battery of artillery, but there seemed nothing incongruous about the getting up such an expensive thunder storm as this to knock the turf from under an insect like himself. By and by the tempest spent itself and died without accomplishing its object. The boy's first impulse was to be grateful, and reform. His second was to wait for there might not be any more storms. The next day the doctors were back; Tom had relapsed. The three weeks he spent on his back this time seemed an entire age. When he got abroad at last he was hardly grateful that he had been spared, remembering how lonely was his estate, how companionless and forlorn he was. He drifted listlessly down the street and found Jim Hollis acting as judge in a juvenile court that was trying a cat for murder, in the presence of her victim, a bird. He found Joe Harper and Huck Finn up an alley eating a stolen melon. Poor lads! they—like Tom—had suffered a relapse. |
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kizolk
Indecisive
Posts: 5,454
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Post by kizolk on Mar 30, 2024 22:43:52 GMT
Most interesting guess phonologically, and in some contexts it's relatively semantically to the right word. |
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kizolk
Indecisive
Posts: 5,454
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Post by kizolk on Mar 30, 2024 22:44:22 GMT
in some contexts it's relatively semantically to the right word. But maybe you shouldn't pay too much attention to that. |
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Post by Pacifica on Mar 30, 2024 22:45:40 GMT
tired
Though I guess the phonologically closest guess to that would have been "tried".
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kizolk
Indecisive
Posts: 5,454
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Post by kizolk on Mar 30, 2024 22:47:38 GMT
"Tapped" was closer.
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kizolk
Indecisive
Posts: 5,454
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Post by kizolk on Mar 31, 2024 8:27:00 GMT
In a way, it makes it sound like they owe him that. To be more precise, it makes it sound like they owe him some amount of forbearance. The word is polysemous, although the connection between the two meanings (the one used here and the one I'm hinting at) is rather transparent. Also, in its lemma form it's homonymous to its related noun. |
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kizolk
Indecisive
Posts: 5,454
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Post by kizolk on Mar 31, 2024 11:06:07 GMT
ta____ed
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Post by Pacifica on Mar 31, 2024 11:16:55 GMT
taxed
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kizolk
Indecisive
Posts: 5,454
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Post by kizolk on Mar 31, 2024 11:22:59 GMT
Then came the measles. During two long weeks Tom lay a prisoner, dead to the world and its happenings. He was very ill, he was interested in nothing. When he got upon his feet at last and moved feebly down town, a melancholy change had come over everything and every creature. There had been a " revival," and everybody had "got religion," not only the adults, but even the boys and girls. Tom went about, hoping against hope for the sight of one blessed sinful face, but disappointment crossed him everywhere. He found Joe Harper studying a Testament, and turned sadly away from the depressing spectacle. He sought Ben Rogers, and found him visiting the poor with a basket of tracts. He hunted up Jim Hollis, who called his attention to the precious blessing of his late measles as a warning. Every boy he encountered added another ton to his depression; and when, in desperation, he flew for refuge at last to the bosom of Huckleberry Finn and was received with a scriptural quotation, his heart broke and he crept home and to bed realizing that he alone of all the town was lost, forever and forever. And that night there came on a terrific storm, with driving rain, awful claps of thunder and blinding sheets of lightning. He covered his head with the bedclothes and waited in a horror of suspense for his doom; for he had not the shadow of a doubt that all this hubbub was about him. He believed he had taxed the forbearance of the powers above to the extremity of endurance and that this was the result. It might have seemed to him a waste of pomp and ammunition to kill a bug with a battery of artillery, but there seemed nothing incongruous about the getting up such an expensive thunder storm as this to knock the turf from under an insect like himself. By and by the tempest spent itself and died without accomplishing its object. The boy's first impulse was to be grateful, and reform. His second was to wait for there might not be any more storms. The next day the doctors were back; Tom had relapsed. The three weeks he spent on his back this time seemed an entire age. When he got abroad at last he was hardly grateful that he had been spared, remembering how lonely was his estate, how companionless and forlorn he was. He drifted listlessly down the street and found Jim Hollis acting as judge in a juvenile court that was trying a cat for murder, in the presence of her victim, a bird. He found Joe Harper and Huck Finn up an alley eating a stolen melon. Poor lads! they—like Tom—had suffered a relapse. |
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Post by Pacifica on Mar 31, 2024 11:33:26 GMT
WITCH
It may be
That I can aid thee.
MANFRED
To do this thy power
Must wake the dead, or lay me low with them.
Do so—in any shape—in any hour—
With any torture—so it be the _______.
WITCH
That is not in my _______; but if thou
Wilt swear obedience to my will, and do
My bidding, it may help thee to thy wishes.
MANFRED
I will not swear—Obey! and whom? the Spirits
Whose presence I command, and be the slave
Of those who served me—Never!
WITCH
Is this all?
Hast thou no gentler answer?—Yet bethink thee,
And pause ere thou rejectest.
MANFRED
I have said it.
WITCH
Enough! I may retire then—say!
MANFRED
Retire!
[The WITCH disappears.
MANFRED (alone).
We are the fools of Time and _______: Days
Steal _______ _______, and steal _______ _______; yet we live,
Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.
In all the days of this detested yoke—
This vital weight upon the struggling heart,
Which sinks with sorrow, or beats quick with pain,
Or joy that ends in agony or faintness—
In all the days of past and future—for
In life there is no present—we can number
How few—how _______ _______ few—wherein the soul
Forbears to pant for death, and yet draws back
As from a stream in winter, though the chill
Be but a moment’s. I have one resource
Still in my science—I can call the dead,
And ask them what it is we dread to be:
The sternest answer can but be the Grave,
And that is nothing: if they answer not—
The buried Prophet answered to the Hag
Of Endor; and the Spartan Monarch drew
From the Byzantine maid’s unsleeping spirit
An answer and his destiny—he slew
That which he loved, unknowing what he slew,
And died unpardoned—though he called in aid
The Phyxian Jove, and in Phigalia roused
The Arcadian Evocators to compel
The indignant shadow to depose her wrath,
Or fix her term of vengeance—she replied
In words of dubious import, but fulfilled.
If I had never lived, that which I love
Had still been living; had I never loved,
That which I love would still be beautiful,
Happy and _______ _______. What is she?
What is she now?—a sufferer for my sins—
A thing I dare not think upon—or nothing.
Within few hours I shall not call in vain—
Yet in this hour I dread the thing I dare:
Until this hour I never shrunk to gaze
On spirit, _______ or _______—now I tremble,
And feel a strange cold thaw upon my heart.
But I can act even what I most abhor,
And champion human fears.—The night approaches.
[Exit.
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