As his nose bled, so did his intellect clear.

Bleeding, on the old system, was never more successful.
This was truly a descent, if not from the sublime, at least from the heroic, to the ridiculous.

Panting with heat, bleeding, apostrophising, the lover came to his senses.
Partly aloud, at intervals, partly muttered between his teeth, he gave forth the following sentences; and when he became calm he thought the subsequent thoughts, which, although he did not rail them forth against the rooks and smaller birds, we will venture to repeat, for the further elucidating the mystery of his mind.
'Fool to let go her arm! No; fool to take it at all! What a girl! I never saw such--pho! How it bleeds! Will it never stop! They'll think there's been a murder here.

What could possess me to run after her?
A rustic coquette! Rustic! No; a most courtly one.

She had me fairly in her power.