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Updated: May 10, 2025
He heard the door closed and locked as he descended the stairs; but he did not hear the deep groans and vehement sobs in which the desolate orphan gave vent to the anguish which succeeded to the less sacred paroxysm of revenge and wrath. "Incubo. Look to the cavalier. What ails he? . . . . . Hostess. And in such good clothes, too!" BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: Love's Pilgrimage. "Theod.
It was too true: neatly inserted, as he stooped forward, between his neck and his collar, was a large live shore-crab, holding on tight with both hands. "Gentles! good Christians! save me! I am mare-rode! Incubo, vel ab incubo, opprimor! Satanas has me by the poll! Help! he tears my jugular; he wrings my neck, as he does to Dr. Faustus in the play. Confiteor! I confess! Satan, I defy thee! Mr.
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