The life and opinions of Tristram Shandy, gentleman

father, that very morning, to save if possible a beautiful wood, which the dean and chapter were hewing down to give to the poor;[42] which said wood being in full view of my uncle _Toby_’s house, and of singular service to him in his description of the battle of _Wynnendale_—by trotting on too hastily to save it——upon an uneasy saddle——worse horse, &c. &c. . . it had so happened, that the serous part of the blood had got betwixt the two skins, in the nethermost part of my uncle _Toby_——the first shootings of which (as my uncle _Toby_ had no experience of love) he had taken for a part of the passion—till the blister breaking in the one case—and the other remaining—my uncle _Toby_ was presently convinced, that his wound was not a skin-deep wound——but that it had gone to his heart. [41] This will be printed with my father’s Life of _Socrates_, &c. &c. [42] Mr _Shandy_ must mean the poor _in spirit;_ inasmuch as they divided the money amongst themselves. C H A P. LI THE world is ashamed of being virtuous——my uncle _Toby_ knew little of the world; and therefore when he felt he was in love with widow _Wadman_, he had no conception that the thing was any more to be made a mystery of, than if Mrs. _Wadman_ had given him a cut with a gap’d knife across his finger: Had it been otherwise——yet as he ever look’d upon _Trim_ as a humble friend; and saw fresh reasons every day of his life, to treat him as such——it would have made no variation in the manner in which he informed him of the affair. “I am in love, corporal!” quoth my uncle _Toby._ C H A P. LII IN love!——said the corporal—your honour was very well the day before yesterday, when I was telling your honour of the story of the King of _Bohemia—Bohemia!_ said my uncle _Toby_ - - - - musing a long time - - - What became of that story, _Trim?_ —We lost it, an’ please your honour, somehow betwixt us—but your honour was as free from love then, as I am——’twas just whilst thou went’st off with the wheel-barrow——with Mrs. _Wadman_, quoth my uncle _Toby_——She has left a ball here—added my uncle _Toby_—pointing to his breast—— ——She can no more, an’ please your honour, stand a siege, than she can fly—cried the corporal—— ——But as we are neighbours, _Trim_,—the best way I think is to let her know it civilly first—quoth my uncle _Toby._ Now if I might presume, said the corporal, to differ from your honour—— —Why else do I talk to thee, _Trim?_ said my uncle _Toby_, mildly—— —Then I would begin, an’ please your honour, with making a good thundering attack upon her, in return—and telling her civilly afterwards—for if she knows any thing of your honour’s being in love, before hand——L—d help her!—she knows no more at present of it, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_—than the child unborn—— Precious souls!—— Mrs. _Wadman_ had told it, with all its circumstances, to Mrs. _Bridget_ twenty-four hours before; and was at that very moment sitting in council with her, touching some slight misgivings with regard to the issue of the affairs, which the Devil, who never lies dead in a ditch, had put into her head—before he would allow half time, to get quietly through her _Te Deum._ I am terribly afraid, said widow _Wadman_, in case I should marry him, _Bridget_—that the poor captain will not enjoy his health, with the monstrous wound upon his groin—— It may not, Madam, be so very large, replied _Bridget_, as you think——and I believe, besides, added she—that ’tis dried up—— ——I could like to know—merely for his sake, said Mrs. _Wadman_—— —We’ll know and long and the broad of it, in ten days—answered Mrs. _Bridget_, for whilst the captain is paying his addresses to you—I’m confident Mr. _Trim_ will be for making love to me—and I’ll let him as much as he will—added _Bridget_—to get it all out of him—— The measures were taken at once——and my uncle _Toby_ and the corporal went on with theirs. Now, quoth the corporal, setting his left hand a-kimbo, and giving such a flourish with his right, as just promised success—and no more——if your honour will give me leave to lay down the plan of this attack—— ——Thou wilt please me by it, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_, exceedingly—and as I foresee thou must act in it as my _aid de camp_, here’s a crown, corporal, to begin with, to steep thy commission. Then, an’ please your honour, said the corporal (making a bow first for his commission)—we will begin with getting your honour’s laced clothes out of the great campaign-trunk, to be well air’d, and have the blue and gold taken up at the sleeves—and I’ll put your white ramallie-wig fresh into pipes—and send for a taylor, to have your honour’s thin scarlet breeches turn’d—— —I had better take the red plush ones, quoth my uncle _Toby_—They will be too clumsy—said the corporal. C H A P. LIII ——Thou wilt get a brush and a little chalk to my sword——’Twill be only in your honour’s way, replied _Trim._ C H A P. LIV —But your honour’s two razors shall be new set—and I will get my _Montero_ cap furbish’d up, and put on poor lieutenant _Le Fever_’s regimental coat, which your honour gave me to wear for his sake—and as soon as your honour is clean shaved—and has got your clean shirt on, with your blue and gold, or your fine scarlet——sometimes one and sometimes t’other—and every thing is ready for the attack—we’ll march up boldly, as if ’twas to the face of a bastion; and whilst your honour engages Mrs. _Wadman_ in the parlour, to the right——I’ll attack Mrs. _Bridget_ in the kitchen, to the left; and having seiz’d the pass, I’ll answer for it, said the corporal, snapping his fingers over his head—that the day is our own. I wish I may but manage it right; said my uncle _Toby_—but I declare, corporal, I had rather march up to the very edge of a trench—— —A woman is quite a different thing—said the corporal. —I suppose so, quoth my uncle _Toby._ C H A P. LV IF any thing in this world, which my father said, could have provoked my uncle _Toby_, during the time he was in love, it was the perverse use my father was always making of an expression of _Hilarion_ the hermit; who, in speaking of his abstinence, his watchings, flagellations, and other instrumental parts of his religion—would say—tho’ with more facetiousness than became an hermit—“That they were the means he used, to make his _ass_ (meaning his body) leave off kicking.” It pleased my father well; it was not only a laconick way of expressing——but of libelling, at the same time, the desires and appetites of the lower part of us; so that for many years of my father’s life, ’twas his constant mode of expression—he never used the word _passions_ once—but _ass_ always instead of them——So that he might be said truly, to have been upon the bones, or the back of his own ass, or else of some other man’s, during all that time. I must here observe to you the difference betwixt My father’s ass and my hobby-horse—in order to keep characters as separate as may be, in our fancies as we go along. For my hobby-horse, if you recollect a little, is no way a vicious beast; he has scarce one hair or lineament of the ass about him——’Tis the sporting little filly-folly which carries you out for the present hour—a maggot, a butterfly, a picture, a fiddlestick—an uncle _Toby_’s siege—or an _any thing_, which a man makes a shift to get a-stride on, to canter it away from the cares and solicitudes of life—’Tis as useful a beast as is in the whole creation—nor do I really see how the world could do without it—— ——But for my father’s ass——oh! mount him—mount him—mount him—(that’s three times, is it not?)—mount him not:—’tis a beast concupiscent—and foul befal the man, who does not hinder him from kicking. C H A P. LVI WELL! dear brother _Toby_, said my father, upon his first seeing him after he fell in love—and how goes it with your ASSE? Now my uncle _Toby_ thinking more of the part where he had had the blister, than of _Hilarion_’s metaphor—and our preconceptions having (you know) as great a power over the sounds of words as the shapes of things, he had imagined, that my father, who was not very ceremonious in his choice of words, had enquired after the part by its proper name: so notwithstanding my mother, doctor _Slop_, and Mr. _Yorick_, were sitting in the parlour, he thought it rather civil to conform to the term my father had made use of than not. When a man is hemm’d in by two indecorums, and must commit one of ’em—I always observe—let him chuse which he will, the world will blame him—so I should not be astonished if it blames my uncle _Toby._ My A—e, quoth my uncle _Toby_, is much better—brother _Shandy_—My father had formed great expectations from his Asse in this onset; and would have brought him on again; but doctor _Slop_ setting up an intemperate laugh—and my mother crying out L— bless us!—it drove my father’s Asse off the field—and the laugh then becoming general—there was no bringing him back to the charge, for some time—— And so the discourse went on without him. Every body, said my mother, says you are in love, brother _Toby_,—and we hope it is true. I am as much in love, sister, I believe, replied my uncle _Toby_, as any man usually is——Humph! said my father——and when did you know it? quoth my mother—— ——When the blister broke; replied my uncle _Toby._ My uncle _Toby_’s reply put my father into good temper—so he charg’d o’ foot. C H A P. LVII AS the ancients agree, brother _Toby_, said my father, that there are two different and distinct kinds of love, according to the different parts which are affected by it—the Brain or Liver——I think when a man is in love, it behoves him a little to consider which of the two he is fallen into. What signifies it, brother _Shandy_, replied my uncle _Toby_, which of the two it is, provided it will but make a man marry, and love his wife, and get a few children? ——A few children! cried my father, rising out of his chair, and looking full in my mother’s face, as he forced his way betwixt her’s and doctor _Slop_’s—a few children! cried my father, repeating my uncle _Toby_’s words as he walk’d to and fro—— ——Not, my dear brother _Toby_, cried my father, recovering himself all at once, and coming close up to the back of my uncle _Toby_’s chair—not that I should be sorry hadst thou a score—on the contrary, I should rejoice—and be as kind, _Toby_, to every one of them as a father— My uncle _Toby_ stole his hand unperceived behind his chair, to give my father’s a squeeze—— ——Nay, moreover, continued he, keeping hold of my uncle _Toby_’s hand—so much dost thou possess, my dear _Toby_, of the milk of human nature, and so little of its asperities—’tis piteous the world is not peopled by creatures which resemble thee; and was I an _Asiatic_ monarch, added my father, heating himself with his new project—I would oblige thee, provided it would not impair thy strength—or dry up thy radical moisture too fast—or weaken thy memory or fancy, brother _Toby_, which these gymnics inordinately taken are apt to do—else, dear _Toby_, I would procure thee the most beautiful woman in my empire, and I would oblige thee, _nolens, volens_, to beget for me one subject every _month_—— As my father pronounced the last word of the sentence—my mother took a pinch of snuff. Now I would not, quoth my uncle _Toby_, get a child, _nolens, volens_, that is, whether I would or no, to please the greatest prince upon earth—— ——And ’twould be cruel in me, brother _Toby_, to compel thee; said my father—but ’tis a case put to shew thee, that it is not thy begetting a child—in case thou should’st be able—but the system of Love and Marriage thou goest upon, which I would set thee right in——