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Updated: June 27, 2025
Thou art the tearer of the eyes of Bhaga; thou art Fierce, and thou art He who destroyed the teeth of Pushan. Thou art Swaha, thou art Swadha, thou art Vashat, thou art Salutation's form, and thou art the words Namas-Namas uttered by all worshippers. Thy observances and thy penances are not known to others. Thou art Pranava; thou art the firmament bespangled with myriads of stars.
How, cried the devil, what is it? I'll tickle him off for you by-and-by. Alas! cried the old dissembler, he told me, the butcher, the tyrant, the tearer of devils told me that he had made a match to scratch with you this day, and to try his claws he did but just touch me with his little finger here betwixt the legs, and has spoiled me for ever. Oh!
The divine Mahadeva, the bearer of the Sula, the tearer of Bhaga's eyes, taking up the sword whose splendour resembled that of the all-destructive Yuga fire, and wielding a large shield with three high bosses which looked like a mass of dark clouds adorned with flashes of lightning, began to perform diverse kinds of evolutions.
I was a-lookin' at 'em last Thursday, and thinkin' what a pity 'twas you hadn't nobody to cut down for; but this 'ere young un's going to be such a tearer, he'll want somethin' real stout; but I'll try and put it out of my mind till Monday.
They also learned that "Lions of sundry-kinds have sundry-names. Tear-in-pieces like a lion. That he ravin not, make-a-prey; called a plueker Renter or Tearer, and elsewhere Laby that is, Harty and couragious; Kphir, this lurking, Couchant. The reason of thier names is shewed, as The renting-lion as greedy to tear, and the lurking-Lion as biding in covert places.
"Dead from the west, now, and rising fast. I hope that your spirit of prophecy still speaks smooth things, for, upon my word, I believe we are both of us in a worse mess than ever." "Can't we row ashore? It is only a few miles, is it?" "We can try, but I am afraid we are in for a regular tearer. We get them sometimes on this coast after a spell of calm weather." "Please give me an oar," she said.
My friend Barry, sir, was a dasher, by George! a regular red-hot tearer, by heaven! a Go, sir, a Tippy, a bang up Blood, and would be still if it were not for the Jews curse 'em!" "And is Mr. Barrymaine still a friend of yours?" At this Mr. Smivvle took off his hat again, clapped it to his bosom, and bowed.
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