This dagger is poisoned,-a scratch and you are dead.

This dog is of the true British breed; if she seizes you, red-hot iron will not loose her, till she hears the bone crack.

If any one will change clothes with me, all I have is at your service.

If not, the first that stirs is a dead man.' There was no mistaking the quiet, high-bred determination of the speaker.

Had he raged and blustered, Philammon could have met him on his own ground: but there was an easy self-possessed disdain about him, which utterly abashed the young monk, and abashed, too, the whole crowd of rascals at his heels.
'I'll change clothes with you, you Jewish dog!' roared a dirty fellow out of the mob.
'I am your eternal debtor.