CHAPTER THE THIRTY-THIRD.

But see, his face is black, and full of blood;

His eye-balls farther out than when he lived,

Staring full ghastly, like a strangled man;

His hair uprear’d—his nostrils stretch’d with struggling,

His hands abroad display’d, as one who grasp’d

And tugg’d for life, and was by strength subdued.

Woodstock; or, the Cavalier · 第 76 / 88 题