decay

I fancied at first the stuff was paraffin wax, and smashed the jar accordingly. But the odor of camphor was unmistakable. It struck me as singularly odd, that among the universal decay, this volatile substance had chanced to survive, perhaps through many thousand years.

Let’s cheere our ſouldiers to incounter him,

That grieuous image of ingratitude:

That fiery thirſter after Soueraigntie: […]

Reſolue my Lords and louing ſouldiers now,

To ſaue your king and country from decay: