LESSON I.—PARSING.
"Ah! St. Anthony preserve me!—Ah—ah—eh—eh!—Why—why—after all, your hand is not so co-o-o-old, neither. Of the two, it is rather warmer than my own. Can it be, though, that you are not dead?" "Not I."—MOLIERE: in Burgh's Speaker, p. 232.
"I'll make you change your cuckoo note, you old philosophical humdrum, you—[Beats him]—I will—[Beats him]. I'll make you say somewhat else than, 'All things are doubtful; all things are uncertain;'—[Beats him]—I will, you old fusty pedant." "Ah!—oh!—ehl—What, beat a philosopher!—Ah!—oh!—eh!"—MOLIERE: ib., p. 247.
"What! will these hands never be clean?—No more of that, my lord; no more of that. You mar all with this starting." * * * "Here is the smell of blood still.—All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!"—Shak., Macbeth, Act V, Sc. 1.
"Ha! at the gates what grisly forms appear!
What dismal shrieks of laughter wound the ear!"—Merry.