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his throat, and ventures to begin. “Sir, I am sensible”(some titter near him)—“I am, Sir, sensible”—“Hear! hear!” (they cheer him.) Now bolder grown, for praise mistaking pother, teapots one arm, and spouts out with the other. "I am, Sir, sensible-I am, indeed—that, though—I should want-words—I must proceed; and, for the first time in my life I think-I think-that-no great orator-should shrink: —and, therefore,-Mr. Speaker-I for one—will speak out freely. Sir-I've not yet done. Sir, in the name of those
, enlightened men who sent me here to-speak for themwhy, then, to do my duty—as I said before-to my constituency-I'LL SAY NO MORE."
(See Tone Drill No. 105.) [Gasping indicates a struggle for breath. This spasmodic tone may be caused by overexertion or by a great mental shock or by a physical injury.]
Let me lie down
Let me lie down.
Dying at last !
Dying at last !
Great Heaven ! this bullet-hole gapes like a grave;
Our Father! our Father ! why don't you proceed ?
I am dying; bend down, till I touch you once more;
(See Tone Drill No. 140.) [Moaning manifests mental or physical pain, with exhaustion. It is agony in its weaker states. Sometimes there is unconsciousness. ]
Lady Macbeth in Her Sleep.
Yet here's a spot.
Out, damned spot! out, I say ! One: two: why, then 'tis time do do ’t. Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afеard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?
The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? What, will these hands ne'er be clean? No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting
Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!
Wash your hands; put on your nightgown; look not so pale: I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out on 's grave. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate: come, come, come, come, give me your hand: what's done cannot be undone: to bed, to bed, to bed.—Macbeth, v., 1.
TONE OF UPROAR.
(See Tone Drill No. 207.) [The tone of Uproar manifests great perturbation, commotion or turmoil. It is akin to Excitement.]
The War in Heaven.
Immediate in a flame
But they stood not long;
Uplifting bore them in their hands. Amaze,
- Paradise Lost, Book VI.
TONE OF CUNNING.
(See Tone Drills Nos. 96a, 37a, 204b.) [The tone of Cunning has in it Triumph, Exultation, and Carefulness; it manifests a subtle pride, bordering at times on fiendishness.]
The Telltale Heart.
EDGAR ALLAN POE.
True !-nervous—very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why, will you say that I am mad? Hearken ! and
observe how healthily—how calmly I can tell you the whole story.
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object, there was none. Passion, there was none. I loved the old
He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture—a pale-blue eye with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees—very gradually I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.
You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded--with what caution—with what foresight—with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. Every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it-oh, so gently! and then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly-very, very, slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. Would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously-oh, so cautiously (for the hinges creaked). I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights-every night just at midnight—but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his evil eye.
Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. To think that there I was, opening the