After an hour at school she was soaked with sweat, dizzy, and headachy.
The Lord is not ſlacke cõcerning his promiſe (as ſome men count ſlackneſſe)[…].
[…] I am whipp’d and scourged with rods, Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
… all of which really ought to be secondary considerations to those two houndly gifts, the keen, discriminating sense of smell, and ready, truthful tongue.
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