The noise of which is now loud everywhere.

Less lovely individual than this Trenck [Pandour Trenck, Cousin of the Prussian one,] there was not, since the days of Attila and Genghis, in any War.

Blusters abominably, too; has written [save the mark!] an 'AUTOBIOGRAPHY,'-- having happily afterwards, in Prison and even in Bedlam, time for such a Work;--which is stuffed with sanguinary lies and exaggerations: unbeautifulest of human souls.

Has a face the color of indigo, too;--got it, plundering in an Apothecary's [in this same country, if I recollect]: 'ACH GOTT, your Grace, nothing of money here!' said the poor Apothecary, accompanying Colonel Trenck with a lighted candle over house and shop.

Trenck, noticing one likely thing, snatched the candle, held it nearer:--likely thing proved gunpowder; and Trenck, till Doomsday, continues deep blue.