The life and opinions of Tristram Shandy, gentleman

A daughter of _Eve_, for such was widow _Wadman_, and ’tis all the character I intend to give of her— —“_ That she was a perfect woman—_” had better be fifty leagues off—or in her warm bed—or playing with a case-knife—or any thing you please—than make a man the object of her attention, when the house and all the furniture is her own. There is nothing in it out of doors and in broad day-light, where a woman has a power, physically speaking, of viewing a man in more lights than one—but here, for her soul, she can see him in no light without mixing something of her own goods and chattels along with him——till by reiterated acts of such combination, he gets foisted into her inventory—— —And then good night. But this is not matter of SYSTEM; for I have delivered that above——nor is it matter of BREVIARY——for I make no man’s creed but my own——nor matter of FACT——at least that I know of; but ’tis matter copulative and introductory to what follows. C H A P. XXXIII I DO not speak it with regard to the coarseness or cleanness of them—or the strength of their gussets——but pray do not night-shifts differ from day-shifts as much in this particular, as in any thing else in the world; that they so far exceed the others in length, that when you are laid down in them, they fall almost as much below the feet, as the day-shifts fall short of them? Widow _Wadman_’s night-shifts (as was the mode I suppose in King _William_’s and Queen _Anne_’s reigns) were cut however after this fashion; and if the fashion is changed (for in _Italy_ they are come to nothing)——so much the worse for the public; they were two _Flemish_ ells and a half in length, so that allowing a moderate woman two ells, she had half an ell to spare, to do what she would with. Now from one little indulgence gained after another, in the many bleak and decemberley nights of a seven years widow-hood, things had insensibly come to this pass, and for the two last years had got establish’d into one of the ordinances of the bed-chamber—That as soon as Mrs. _Wadman_ was put to bed, and had got her legs stretched down to the bottom of it, of which she always gave _Bridget_ notice—_Bridget_, with all suitable decorum, having first open’d the bed-clothes at the feet, took hold of the half-ell of cloth we are speaking of, and having gently, and with both her hands, drawn it downwards to its furthest extension, and then contracted it again side-long by four or five even plaits, she took a large corking-pin out of her sleeve, and with the point directed towards her, pinn’d the plaits all fast together a little above the hem; which done, she tuck’d all in tight at the feet, and wish’d her mistress a good night. This was constant, and without any other variation than this; that on shivering and tempestuous nights, when _Bridget_ untuck’d the feet of the bed, &c. to do this——she consulted no thermometer but that of her own passions; and so performed it standing—kneeling—or squatting, according to the different degrees of faith, hope, and charity, she was in, and bore towards her mistress that night. In every other respect, the _etiquette_ was sacred, and might have vied with the most mechanical one of the most inflexible bed-chamber in _Christendom._ The first night, as soon as the corporal had conducted my uncle _Toby_ up stairs, which was about ten——Mrs. _Wadman_ threw herself into her arm-chair, and crossing her left knee with her right, which formed a resting-place for her elbow, she reclin’d her cheek upon the palm of her hand, and leaning forwards, ruminated till midnight upon both sides of the question. The second night she went to her bureau, and having ordered _Bridget_ to bring her up a couple of fresh candles and leave them upon the table, she took out her marriage-settlement, and read it over with great devotion: and the third night (which was the last of my uncle _Toby_’s stay) when _Bridget_ had pull’d down the night-shift, and was assaying to stick in the corking pin—— ——With a kick of both heels at once, but at the same time the most natural kick that could be kick’d in her situation——for supposing * * * * * * * * * to be the sun in its meridian, it was a north-east kick——she kick’d the pin out of her fingers——the _etiquette_ which hung upon it, down——down it fell to the ground, and was shiver’d into a thousand atoms. From all which it was plain that widow _Wadman_ was in love with my uncle _Toby._ C H A P. XXXIV MY uncle _Toby_’s head at that time was full of other matters, so that it was not till the demolition of _Dunkirk_, when all the other civilities of _Europe_ were settled, that he found leisure to return this. This made an armistice (that is, speaking with regard to my uncle _Toby_—but with respect to Mrs. _Wadman_, a vacancy)—of almost eleven years. But in all cases of this nature, as it is the second blow, happen at what distance of time it will, which makes the fray——I chuse for that reason to call these the amours of my uncle _Toby_ with Mrs. _Wadman_, rather than the amours of Mrs. _Wadman_ with my uncle _Toby._ This is not a distinction without a difference. It is not like the affair of _an old hat cock’d——and a cock’d old hat_, about which your reverences have so often been at odds with one another——but there is a difference here in the nature of things—— And let me tell you, gentry, a wide one too. C H A P. XXXV NOW as widow _Wadman_ did love my uncle _Toby_——and my uncle _Toby_ did not love widow _Wadman_, there was nothing for widow _Wadman_ to do, but to go on and love my uncle _Toby_——or let it alone. Widow _Wadman_ would do neither the one or the other. ——Gracious heaven!——but I forget I am a little of her temper myself; for whenever it so falls out, which it sometimes does about the equinoxes, that an earthly goddess is so much this, and that, and t’other, that I cannot eat my breakfast for her——and that she careth not three halfpence whether I eat my breakfast or no—— ——Curse on her! and so I send her to _Tartary_, and from _Tartary_ to _Terra del Fuogo_, and so on to the devil: in short, there is not an infernal nitch where I do not take her divinityship and stick it. But as the heart is tender, and the passions in these tides ebb and flow ten times in a minute, I instantly bring her back again; and as I do all things in extremes, I place her in the very center of the milky-way—— Brightest of stars! thou wilt shed thy influence upon some one—— ——The duce take her and her influence too——for at that word I lose all patience——much good may it do him!——By all that is hirsute and gashly! I cry, taking off my furr’d cap, and twisting it round my finger——I would not give sixpence for a dozen such! ——But ’tis an excellent cap too (putting it upon my head, and pressing it close to my ears)—and warm—and soft; especially if you stroke it the right way—but alas! that will never be my luck——(so here my philosophy is shipwreck’d again.) ——No; I shall never have a finger in the pye (so here I break my metaphor)—— Crust and Crumb Inside and out Top and bottom——I detest it, I hate it, I repudiate it——I’m sick at the sight of it—— ’Tis all pepper, garlick, speak-punctuation:, salt, and devil’s dung——by the great arch-cooks of cooks, who does nothing, I think, from morning to night, but sit down by the fire-side and invent inflammatory dishes for us, I would not touch it for the world—— ——_O Tristram! Tristram!_ cried _Jenny._ _O Jenny! Jenny!_ replied I, and so went on with the thirty-sixth chapter. C H A P. XXXVI ——“Not touch it for the world,” did I say—— Lord, how I have heated my imagination with this metaphor! C H A P. XXXVII WHICH shews, let your reverences and worships say what you will of it (for as for _thinking_——all who do think—think pretty much alike both upon it and other matters)——Love is certainly, at least alphabetically speaking, one of the most A gitating B ewitching C onfounded D evilish affairs of life——the most E xtravagant F utilitous G alligaskinish H andy-dandyish I racundulous (there is no K to it) and L yrical of all human passions: at the same time, the most M isgiving N innyhammering O bstipating P ragmatical S tridulous R idiculous—though by the bye the R should have gone first—But in short ’tis of such a nature, as my father once told my uncle _Toby_ upon the close of a long dissertation upon the subject——“You can scarce,” said he, “combine two ideas together upon it, brother _Toby_, without an hypallage”——What’s that? cried my uncle _Toby._ The cart before the horse, replied my father—— ——And what is he to do there? cried my uncle _Toby._ Nothing, quoth my father, but to get in——or let it alone. Now widow _Wadman_, as I told you before, would do neither the one or the other. She stood however ready harnessed and caparisoned at all points, to watch accidents. C H A P. XXXVIII THE Fates, who certainly all fore-knew of these amours of widow _Wadman_ and my uncle _Toby_, had, from the first creation of matter and motion (and with more courtesy than they usually do things of this kind), established such a chain of causes and effects hanging so fast to one another, that it was scarce possible for my uncle _Toby_ to have dwelt in any other house in the world, or to have occupied any other garden in _Christendom_, but the very house and garden which join’d and laid parallel to Mrs. _Wadman_’s; this, with the advantage of a thickset arbour in Mrs. _Wadman_’s garden, but planted in the hedge-row of my uncle _Toby_’s, put all the occasions into her hands which Love-militancy wanted; she could observe my uncle _Toby_’s motions, and was mistress likewise of his councils of war; and as his unsuspecting heart had given leave to the corporal, through the mediation of _Bridget_, to make her a wicker-gate of communication to enlarge her walks, it enabled her to carry on her approaches to the very door of the sentry-box; and sometimes out of gratitude, to make an attack, and endeavour to blow my uncle _Toby_ up in the very sentry-box itself. C H A P. XXXIX IT is a great pity——but ’tis certain from every day’s observation of man, that he may be set on fire like a candle, at either end—provided there is a sufficient wick standing out; if there is not—there’s an end of the affair; and if there is—by lighting it at the bottom, as the flame in that case has the misfortune generally to put out itself—there’s an end of the affair again. For my part, could I always have the ordering of it which way I would be burnt myself—for I cannot bear the thoughts of being burnt like a beast—I would oblige a housewife constantly to light me at the top; for then I should burn down decently to the socket; that is, from my head to my heart, from my heart to my liver, from my liver to my bowels, and so on by the meseraick veins and arteries, through all the turns and lateral insertions of the intestines and their tunicles to the blind gut—— ——I beseech you, doctor _Slop_, quoth my uncle _Toby_, interrupting him as he mentioned the _blind gut_, in a discourse with my father the night my mother was brought to bed of me——I beseech you, quoth my uncle _Toby_, to tell me which is the blind gut; for, old as I am, I vow I do not know to this day where it lies. The blind gut, answered doctor _Slop_, lies betwixt the _Ilion_ and _Colon_—— In a man? said my father. ——’Tis precisely the same, cried doctor _Slop_, in a woman.—— That’s more than I know; quoth my father. C H A P. XL ——And so to make sure of both systems, Mrs. _Wadman_ predetermined to light my uncle _Toby_ neither at this end or that; but, like a