[She] flung herself / Down on the great King's couch, and writhed upon it, / And clench'd her fingers till they bit the palm, / And shriek'd out 'traitor' to the unhearing wall, […]

I’m in the best of spirits, the very best! Nothing like a few glasses of agur-forty to make a man feel on top of the world!

to flash one's money around

Holding fast behind their false hopes of being protected by their shields, like a porcupine’s soft underbelly, hidden behind the shielded wall was the squishy vulnerable targets tucked behind their bowed scutums.