----In vain! for by all the powers which animate the organ ----Widow _Wadman's_ left eye shines this moment as lucid as her right----there is neither mote, or sand, or dust, or chaff, or speck, or particle of opake matter floating in it --There is nothing, my dear paternal uncle! but one lambent delicious fire, furtively shooting out from every part of it, in all directions, into thine----
----If thou lookest, uncle _Toby_, in search of this mote one moment longer----thou art undone.
[Footnote 8.4: _Rodope Thracia_ tam inevitabili fascino instructa, tam exact oculus intuens attraxit, ut si in illam quis incidisset, fieri non posset, quin caperetur. ----I know not who.]
In vain! for Widow Wadman's left eye shines as lucid as her right - there is neither mote, or sand, or dust, or speck floating in it. - Nothing, my dear uncle! but one delicious fire, furtively shooting out from it, into thine-
If thou lookest, uncle Toby, one moment longer - thou art undone.