Singular adventures of a knight
“ Slow passed the vital fluid through the bosom of Sir Gawen, scarce did the heart vibrate to its impulse, on his pallid forehead sat a chilly sweat, and frequent spasms shook his limbs; but at length returning warmth gave some vigour to his frame, the energy of life became more suffused, a soothing languor stole upon him, and on opening his eyes rushed neither the images of death or the rites of witchcraft, but the soft, the sweet, and tranquil scenery of a summer’s moon-light night. ”
