1805 The Lay of the Last Minstrel, Sir Walter Scott.

The ancients referred melancholy to the mind, the moderns make it matter of digestion—to either case my plan applies, said Lady Mandeville.

[T]o feed 126 souls, we had but . . . Three ham-sandwiches, and a pot of currant-jelly, and 197 bottles of brandy, rum, madeira, pale ale (my private stock) . . .

Prospero: I have done nothing but in care of thee, Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who Art ignorant of what thou art; naught knowing Of whence I am, nor that I am more better Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, And thy no greater father.