49
“The fearful Monster would more ills unfold, our doom disclosing, when aloud cried I:—
‘Who art thou, whose immense stupendous mould, pardie, is mighty miracle to mine eye?’
His lips and dingy orbs he wreathed and roll’d, and with a sudden frightful wailing cry, in slow and bitter accents he replied as though the question probed and galled his pride: