The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman - Part 61
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Part 61

I thought by her manner of speaking this, as well as by her dress, which I then began to consider more attentively-that the young woman could not be the daughter of the peasant.

She was in black down to her toes, with her hair conceal'd under a cambric border, laid close to her forehead: she was one of those kind of nuns, an' please your honour, of which, your honour knows, there are a good many in Flanders, which they let go loose-By thy description, Trim, said my uncle Toby, I dare say she was a young Beguine, of which there are none to be found any where but in the Spanish Netherlands-except at Amsterdam-they differ from nuns in this, that they can quit their cloister if they choose to marry; they visit and take care of the sick by profession-I had rather, for my own part, they did it out of good-nature.

-She often told me, quoth Trim, she did it for the love of Christ-I did not like it.-I believe, Trim, we are both wrong, said my uncle Toby-we'll ask Mr. Yorick about it to-night at my brother Shandy's-so put me in mind; added my uncle Toby.

The young Beguine, continued the corporal, had scarce given herself time to tell me 'she would be my nurse,' when she hastily turned about to begin the office of one, and prepare something for me-and in a short time-though I thought it a long one-she came back with flannels, &c. &c. and having fomented my knee soundly for a couple of hours, &c. and made me a thin bason of gruel for my supper-she wish'd me rest, and promised to be with me early in the morning.-She wish'd me, an' please your honour, what was not to be had. My fever ran very high that night-her figure made sad disturbance within me-I was every moment cutting the world in two-to give her half of it-and every moment was I crying, That I had nothing but a knapsack and eighteen florins to share with her-The whole night long was the fair Beguine, like an angel, close by my bed-side, holding back my curtain and offering me cordials-and I was only awakened from my dream by her coming there at the hour promised, and giving them in reality. In truth, she was scarce ever from me; and so accustomed was I to receive life from her hands, that my heart sickened, and I lost colour when she left the room: and yet, continued the corporal (making one of the strangest reflections upon it in the world)--'It was not love'-for during the three weeks she was almost constantly with me, fomenting my knee with her hand, night and day-I can honestly say, an' please your honour-that...once.

That was very odd, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby.

I think so too-said Mrs. Wadman.

It never did, said the corporal.

Chapter 4.XLV.

-But 'tis no marvel, continued the corporal-seeing my uncle Toby musing upon it-for Love, an' please your honour, is exactly like war, in this; that a soldier, though he has escaped three weeks complete o'Sat.u.r.day night,-may nevertheless be shot through his heart on Sunday morning-It happened so here, an' please your honour, with this difference only-that it was on Sunday in the afternoon, when I fell in love all at once with a sisserara-It burst upon me, an' please your honour, like a bomb-scarce giving me time to say, 'G.o.d bless me.'

I thought, Trim, said my uncle Toby, a man never fell in love so very suddenly.

Yes, an' please your honour, if he is in the way of it-replied Trim.

I prithee, quoth my uncle Toby, inform me how this matter happened.

-With all pleasure, said the corporal, making a bow.

Chapter 4.XLVI.

I had escaped, continued the corporal, all that time from falling in love, and had gone on to the end of the chapter, had it not been predestined otherwise-there is no resisting our fate.

It was on a Sunday, in the afternoon, as I told your honour.

The old man and his wife had walked out-

Every thing was still and hush as midnight about the house-

There was not so much as a duck or a duckling about the yard-

-When the fair Beguine came in to see me.

My wound was then in a fair way of doing well-the inflammation had been gone off for some time, but it was succeeded with an itching both above and below my knee, so insufferable, that I had not shut my eyes the whole night for it.

Let me see it, said she, kneeling down upon the ground parallel to my knee, and laying her hand upon the part below it-it only wants rubbing a little, said the Beguine; so covering it with the bed-clothes, she began with the fore-finger of her right hand to rub under my knee, guiding her fore-finger backwards and forwards by the edge of the flannel which kept on the dressing.

In five or six minutes I felt slightly the end of her second finger-and presently it was laid flat with the other, and she continued rubbing in that way round and round for a good while; it then came into my head, that I should fall in love-I blush'd when I saw how white a hand she had-I shall never, an' please your honour, behold another hand so white whilst I live-

-Not in that place, said my uncle Toby-

Though it was the most serious despair in nature to the corporal-he could not forbear smiling.

The young Beguine, continued the corporal, perceiving it was of great service to me-from rubbing for some time, with two fingers-proceeded to rub at length, with three-till by little and little she brought down the fourth, and then rubb'd with her whole hand: I will never say another word, an' please your honour, upon hands again-but it was softer than sattin-

-Prithee, Trim, commend it as much as thou wilt, said my uncle Toby; I shall hear thy story with the more delight-The corporal thank'd his master most unfeignedly; but having nothing to say upon the Beguine's hand but the same over again-he proceeded to the effects of it.

The fair Beguine, said the corporal, continued rubbing with her whole hand under my knee-till I fear'd her zeal would weary her-'I would do a thousand times more,' said she, 'for the love of Christ'-In saying which, she pa.s.s'd her hand across the flannel, to the part above my knee, which I had equally complain'd of, and rubb'd it also.

I perceiv'd, then, I was beginning to be in love-

As she continued rub-rub-rubbing-I felt it spread from under her hand, an' please your honour, to every part of my frame-

The more she rubb'd, and the longer strokes she took-the more the fire kindled in my veins-till at length, by two or three strokes longer than the rest-my pa.s.sion rose to the highest pitch-I seiz'd her hand-

-And then thou clapped'st it to thy lips, Trim, said my uncle Toby-and madest a speech.

Whether the corporal's amour terminated precisely in the way my uncle Toby described it, is not material; it is enough that it contained in it the essence of all the love romances which ever have been wrote since the beginning of the world.

Chapter 4.XLVII.

As soon as the corporal had finished the story of his amour-or rather my uncle Toby for him-Mrs. Wadman silently sallied forth from her arbour, replaced the pin in her mob, pa.s.s'd the wicker gate, and advanced slowly towards my uncle Toby's sentry-box: the disposition which Trim had made in my uncle Toby's mind, was too favourable a crisis to be let slipp'd-

-The attack was determin'd upon: it was facilitated still more by my uncle Toby's having ordered the corporal to wheel off the pioneer's shovel, the spade, the pick-axe, the picquets, and other military stores which lay scatter'd upon the ground where Dunkirk stood-The corporal had march'd-the field was clear.

Now, consider, sir, what nonsense it is, either in fighting, or writing, or any thing else (whether in rhyme to it, or not) which a man has occasion to do-to act by plan: for if ever Plan, independent of all circ.u.mstances, deserved registering in letters of gold (I mean in the archives of Gotham)-it was certainly the Plan of Mrs. Wadman's attack of my uncle Toby in his sentry-box, By Plan-Now the plan hanging up in it at this juncture, being the Plan of Dunkirk-and the tale of Dunkirk a tale of relaxation, it opposed every impression she could make: and besides, could she have gone upon it-the manoeuvre of fingers and hands in the attack of the sentry-box, was so outdone by that of the fair Beguine's, in Trim's story-that just then, that particular attack, however successful before-became the most heartless attack that could be made-

O! let woman alone for this. Mrs. Wadman had scarce open'd the wicker-gate, when her genius sported with the change of circ.u.mstances.

-She formed a new attack in a moment.

Chapter 4.XLVIII.

-I am half distracted, captain Shandy, said Mrs. Wadman, holding up her cambrick handkerchief to her left eye, as she approach'd the door of my uncle Toby's sentry-box-a mote-or sand-or something-I know not what, has got into this eye of mine-do look into it-it is not in the white-

In saying which, Mrs. Wadman edged herself close in beside my uncle Toby, and squeezing herself down upon the corner of his bench, she gave him an opportunity of doing it without rising up-Do look into it-said she.