Allworthy was of a cooler Disposition than the good Woman, whose Spirits were all up in Arms in the Cause of her Friend.

[T]he rolling clouds; / From whose dark womb a rattling tempest pours, / Which the cold north congeals to haily showers.

He is weak and stinking, tabescent, at the far edge of hope.

...the ridges flatten and, higher up, before reaching the upper snow-fields of the mountain, broaden out into high plateaus, the beautiful so-called parks or meadows.