Fiction

The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman

Laurence Sterne

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Chapter 4.XLIII.

It was a thousand pities--though I believe, an' please your honour, I am
going to say but a foolish kind of a thing for a soldier--

A soldier, cried my uncle Toby, interrupting the corporal, is no more
exempt from saying a foolish thing, Trim, than a man of letters--But not so
often, an' please your honour, replied the corporal--my uncle Toby gave a
nod.

It was a thousand pities then, said the corporal, casting his eye upon
Dunkirk, and the mole, as Servius Sulpicius, in returning out of Asia (when
he sailed from Aegina towards Megara), did upon Corinth and Pyreus--

--'It was a thousand pities, an' please your honour, to destroy these
works--and a thousand pities to have let them stood.'--

--Thou art right, Trim, in both cases; said my uncle Toby.--This, continued
the corporal, is the reason, that from the beginning of their demolition to
the end--I have never once whistled, or sung, or laugh'd, or cry'd, or
talk'd of past done deeds, or told your honour one story good or bad--

--Thou hast many excellencies, Trim, said my uncle Toby, and I hold it not
the least of them, as thou happenest to be a story-teller, that of the
number thou hast told me, either to amuse me in my painful hours, or divert
me in my grave ones--thou hast seldom told me a bad one--

--Because, an' please your honour, except one of a King of Bohemia and his
seven castles,--they are all true; for they are about myself--

I do not like the subject the worse, Trim, said my uncle Toby, on that
score:  But prithee what is this story? thou hast excited my curiosity.

I'll tell it your honour, quoth the corporal, directly--Provided, said my
uncle Toby, looking earnestly towards Dunkirk and the mole again--provided
it is not a merry one; to such, Trim, a man should ever bring one half of
the entertainment along with him; and the disposition I am in at present
would wrong both thee, Trim, and thy story--It is not a merry one by any
means, replied the corporal--Nor would I have it altogether a grave one,
added my uncle Toby--It is neither the one nor the other, replied the
corporal, but will suit your honour exactly--Then I'll thank thee for it
with all my heart, cried my uncle Toby; so prithee begin it, Trim.

The corporal made his reverence; and though it is not so easy a matter as
the world imagines, to pull off a lank Montero-cap with grace--or a whit
less difficult, in my conceptions, when a man is sitting squat upon the
ground, to make a bow so teeming with respect as the corporal was wont; yet
by suffering the palm of his right hand, which was towards his master, to
slip backwards upon the grass, a little beyond his body, in order to allow
it the greater sweep--and by an unforced compression, at the same time, of
his cap with the thumb and the two forefingers of his left, by which the
diameter of the cap became reduced, so that it might be said, rather to be
insensibly squeez'd--than pull'd off with a flatus--the corporal acquitted
himself of both in a better manner than the posture of his affairs
promised; and having hemmed twice, to find in what key his story would best
go, and best suit his master's humour,--he exchanged a single look of
kindness with him, and set off thus.

The Story of the King of Bohemia and His Seven Castles.

There was a certain king of Bo..he-

As the corporal was entering the confines of Bohemia, my uncle Toby obliged
him to halt for a single moment; he had set out bare-headed, having, since
he pull'd off his Montero-cap in the latter end of the last chapter, left
it lying beside him on the ground.

--The eye of Goodness espieth all things--so that before the corporal had
well got through the first five words of his story, had my uncle Toby twice
touch'd his Montero-cap with the end of his cane, interrogatively--as much
as to say, Why don't you put it on, Trim? Trim took it up with the most
respectful slowness, and casting a glance of humiliation as he did it, upon
the embroidery of the fore-part, which being dismally tarnish'd and fray'd
moreover in some of the principal leaves and boldest parts of the pattern,
he lay'd it down again between his two feet, in order to moralize upon the
subject.

--'Tis every word of it but too true, cried my uncle Toby, that thou art
about to observe--

'Nothing in this world, Trim, is made to last for ever.'

--But when tokens, dear Tom, of thy love and remembrance wear out, said
Trim, what shall we say?

There is no occasion, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, to say any thing else; and
was a man to puzzle his brains till Doom's day, I believe, Trim, it would
be impossible.

The corporal, perceiving my uncle Toby was in the right, and that it would
be in vain for the wit of man to think of extracting a purer moral from his
cap, without further attempting it, he put it on; and passing his hand
across his forehead to rub out a pensive wrinkle, which the text and the
doctrine between them had engender'd, he return'd, with the same look and
tone of voice, to his story of the king of Bohemia and his seven castles.

The Story of the King of Bohemia and His Seven Castles, Continued.

There was a certain king of Bohemia, but in whose reign, except his own, I
am not able to inform your honour--

I do not desire it of thee, Trim, by any means, cried my uncle Toby.

--It was a little before the time, an' please your honour, when giants were
beginning to leave off breeding:--but in what year of our Lord that was--

I would not give a halfpenny to know, said my uncle Toby.

--Only, an' please your honour, it makes a story look the better in the
face--

--'Tis thy own, Trim, so ornament it after thy own fashion; and take any
date, continued my uncle Toby, looking pleasantly upon him--take any date
in the whole world thou chusest, and put it to--thou art heartily welcome--

The corporal bowed; for of every century, and of every year of that
century, from the first creation of the world down to Noah's flood; and
from Noah's flood to the birth of Abraham; through all the pilgrimages of
the patriarchs, to the departure of the Israelites out of Egypt--and
throughout all the Dynasties, Olympiads, Urbeconditas, and other memorable
epochas of the different nations of the world, down to the coming of
Christ, and from thence to the very moment in which the corporal was
telling his story--had my uncle Toby subjected this vast empire of time and
all its abysses at his feet; but as Modesty scarce touches with a finger
what Liberality offers her with both hands open--the corporal contented
himself with the very worst year of the whole bunch; which, to prevent your
honours of the Majority and Minority from tearing the very flesh off your
bones in contestation, 'Whether that year is not always the last cast-year
of the last cast-almanack'--I tell you plainly it was; but from a different
reason than you wot of--

--It was the year next him--which being the year of our Lord seventeen
hundred and twelve, when the Duke of Ormond was playing the devil in
Flanders--the corporal took it, and set out with it afresh on his
expedition to Bohemia.

The Story of the King of Bohemia and His Seven Castles, Continued.

In the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and twelve, there was,
an' please your honour--

--To tell thee truly, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, any other date would have
pleased me much better, not only on account of the sad stain upon our
history that year, in marching off our troops, and refusing to cover the
siege of Quesnoi, though Fagel was carrying on the works with such
incredible vigour--but likewise on the score, Trim, of thy own story;
because if there are--and which, from what thou hast dropt, I partly
suspect to be the fact--if there are giants in it--

There is but one, an' please your honour--

--'Tis as bad as twenty, replied my uncle Toby--thou should'st have carried
him back some seven or eight hundred years out of harm's way, both of
critics and other people:  and therefore I would advise thee, if ever thou
tellest it again--

--If I live, an' please your honour, but once to get through it, I will
never tell it again, quoth Trim, either to man, woman, or child--Poo--poo!
said my uncle Toby--but with accents of such sweet encouragement did he
utter it, that the corporal went on with his story with more alacrity than
ever.

The Story of the King of Bohemia and His Seven Castles, Continued.

There was, an' please your honour, said the corporal, raising his voice and
rubbing the palms of his two hands cheerily together as he begun, a certain
king of Bohemia--

--Leave out the date entirely, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, leaning forwards,
and laying his hand gently upon the corporal's shoulder to temper the
interruption--leave it out entirely, Trim; a story passes very well without
these niceties, unless one is pretty sure of 'em--Sure of 'em! said the
corporal, shaking his head--

Right; answered my uncle Toby, it is not easy, Trim, for one, bred up as
thou and I have been to arms, who seldom looks further forward than to the
end of his musket, or backwards beyond his knapsack, to know much about
this matter--God bless your honour! said the corporal, won by the manner of
my uncle Toby's reasoning, as much as by the reasoning itself, he has
something else to do; if not on action, or a march, or upon duty in his
garrison--he has his firelock, an' please your honour, to furbish--his
accoutrements to take care of--his regimentals to mend--himself to shave
and keep clean, so as to appear always like what he is upon the parade;
what business, added the corporal triumphantly, has a soldier, an' please
your honour, to know any thing at all of geography?

--Thou would'st have said chronology, Trim, said my uncle Toby; for as for
geography, 'tis of absolute use to him; he must be acquainted intimately
with every country and its boundaries where his profession carries him; he
should know every town and city, and village and hamlet, with the canals,
the roads, and hollow ways which lead up to them; there is not a river or a
rivulet he passes, Trim, but he should be able at first sight to tell thee
what is its name--in what mountains it takes its rise--what is its course--
how far it is navigable--where fordable--where not; he should know the
fertility of every valley, as well as the hind who ploughs it; and be able
to describe, or, if it is required, to give thee an exact map of all the
plains and defiles, the forts, the acclivities, the woods and morasses,
thro' and by which his army is to march; he should know their produce,
their plants, their minerals, their waters, their animals, their seasons,
their climates, their heats and cold, their inhabitants, their customs,
their language, their policy, and even their religion.

Is it else to be conceived, corporal, continued my uncle Toby, rising up in
his sentry-box, as he began to warm in this part of his discourse--how
Marlborough could have marched his army from the banks of the Maes to
Belburg; from Belburg to Kerpenord--(here the corporal could sit no longer)
from Kerpenord, Trim, to Kalsaken; from Kalsaken to Newdorf; from Newdorf
to Landenbourg; from Landenbourg to Mildenheim; from Mildenheim to
Elchingen; from Elchingen to Gingen; from Gingen to Balmerchoffen; from
Balmerchoffen to Skellenburg, where he broke in upon the enemy's works;
forced his passage over the Danube; cross'd the Lech--push'd on his troops
into the heart of the empire, marching at the head of them through
Fribourg, Hokenwert, and Schonevelt, to the plains of Blenheim and
Hochstet?--Great as he was, corporal, he could not have advanced a step, or
made one single day's march without the aids of Geography.--As for
Chronology, I own, Trim, continued my uncle Toby, sitting down again coolly
in his sentry-box, that of all others, it seems a science which the soldier
might best spare, was it not for the lights which that science must one day
give him, in determining the invention of powder; the furious execution of
which, renversing every thing like thunder before it, has become a new aera
to us of military improvements, changing so totally the nature of attacks
and defences both by sea and land, and awakening so much art and skill in
doing it, that the world cannot be too exact in ascertaining the precise
time of its discovery, or too inquisitive in knowing what great man was the
discoverer, and what occasions gave birth to it.

I am far from controverting, continued my uncle Toby, what historians agree
in, that in the year of our Lord 1380, under the reign of Wencelaus, son of
Charles the Fourth--a certain priest, whose name was Schwartz, shew'd the
use of powder to the Venetians, in their wars against the Genoese; but 'tis
certain he was not the first; because if we are to believe Don Pedro, the
bishop of Leon--How came priests and bishops, an' please your honour, to
trouble their heads so much about gun-powder?  God knows, said my uncle
Toby--his providence brings good out of every thing--and he avers, in his
chronicle of King Alphonsus, who reduced Toledo, That in the year 1343,
which was full thirty-seven years before that time, the secret of powder
was well known, and employed with success, both by Moors and Christians,
not only in their sea-combats, at that period, but in many of their most
memorable sieges in Spain and Barbary--And all the world knows, that Friar
Bacon had wrote expressly about it, and had generously given the world a
receipt to make it by, above a hundred and fifty years before even Schwartz
was born--And that the Chinese, added my uncle Toby, embarrass us, and all
accounts of it, still more, by boasting of the invention some hundreds of
years even before him--

They are a pack of liars, I believe, cried Trim--

--They are somehow or other deceived, said my uncle Toby, in this matter,
as is plain to me from the present miserable state of military architecture
amongst them; which consists of nothing more than a fosse with a brick wall
without flanks--and for what they gave us as a bastion at each angle of it,
'tis so barbarously constructed, that it looks for all the world--Like one
of my seven castles, an' please your honour, quoth Trim.

My uncle Toby, tho' in the utmost distress for a comparison, most
courteously refused Trim's offer--till Trim telling him, he had half a
dozen more in Bohemia, which he knew not how to get off his hands--my uncle
Toby was so touch'd with the pleasantry of heart of the corporal--that he
discontinued his dissertation upon gun-powder--and begged the corporal
forthwith to go on with his story of the King of Bohemia and his seven
castles.

The Story of the King of Bohemia and His Seven Castles, Continued.

This unfortunate King of Bohemia, said Trim,--Was he unfortunate, then?
cried my uncle Toby, for he had been so wrapt up in his dissertation upon
gun-powder, and other military affairs, that tho' he had desired the
corporal to go on, yet the many interruptions he had given, dwelt not so
strong upon his fancy as to account for the epithet--Was he unfortunate,
then, Trim? said my uncle Toby, pathetically--The corporal, wishing first
the word and all its synonimas at the devil, forthwith began to run back in
his mind, the principal events in the King of Bohemia's story; from every
one of which, it appearing that he was the most fortunate man that ever
existed in the world--it put the corporal to a stand:  for not caring to
retract his epithet--and less to explain it--and least of all, to twist his
tale (like men of lore) to serve a system--he looked up in my uncle Toby's
face for assistance--but seeing it was the very thing my uncle Toby sat in
expectation of himself--after a hum and a haw, he went on--

The King of Bohemia, an' please your honour, replied the corporal, was
unfortunate, as thus--That taking great pleasure and delight in navigation
and all sort of sea affairs--and there happening throughout the whole
kingdom of Bohemia, to be no sea-port town whatever--

How the duce should there--Trim? cried my uncle Toby; for Bohemia being
totally inland, it could have happen'd no otherwise--It might, said Trim,
if it had pleased God--

My uncle Toby never spoke of the being and natural attributes of God, but
with diffidence and hesitation--

--I believe not, replied my uncle Toby, after some pause--for being inland,
as I said, and having Silesia and Moravia to the east; Lusatia and Upper
Saxony to the north; Franconia to the west; and Bavaria to the south;
Bohemia could not have been propell'd to the sea without ceasing to be
Bohemia--nor could the sea, on the other hand, have come up to Bohemia,
without overflowing a great part of Germany, and destroying millions of
unfortunate inhabitants who could make no defence against it--Scandalous!
cried Trim--Which would bespeak, added my uncle Toby, mildly, such a want
of compassion in him who is the father of it--that, I think, Trim--the
thing could have happen'd no way.

The corporal made the bow of unfeign'd conviction; and went on.

Now the King of Bohemia with his queen and courtiers happening one fine
summer's evening to walk out--Aye! there the word happening is right, Trim,
cried my uncle Toby; for the King of Bohemia and his queen might have
walk'd out or let it alone:--'twas a matter of contingency, which might
happen, or not, just as chance ordered it.

King William was of an opinion, an' please your honour, quoth Trim, that
every thing was predestined for us in this world; insomuch, that he would
often say to his soldiers, that 'every ball had its billet.'  He was a
great man, said my uncle Toby--And I believe, continued Trim, to this day,
that the shot which disabled me at the battle of Landen, was pointed at my
knee for no other purpose, but to take me out of his service, and place me
in your honour's, where I should be taken so much better care of in my old
age--It shall never, Trim, be construed otherwise, said my uncle Toby.

The heart, both of the master and the man, were alike subject to sudden
over-flowings;--a short silence ensued.

Besides, said the corporal, resuming the discourse--but in a gayer accent--
if it had not been for that single shot, I had never, 'an please your
honour, been in love--

So, thou wast once in love, Trim! said my uncle Toby, smiling--

Souse! replied the corporal--over head and ears! an' please your honour.
Prithee when? where?--and how came it to pass?--I never heard one word of
it before; quoth my uncle Toby:--I dare say, answered Trim, that every
drummer and serjeant's son in the regiment knew of it--It's high time I
should--said my uncle Toby.

Your honour remembers with concern, said the corporal, the total rout and
confusion of our camp and army at the affair of Landen; every one was left
to shift for himself; and if it had not been for the regiments of Wyndham,
Lumley, and Galway, which covered the retreat over the bridge Neerspeeken,
the king himself could scarce have gained it--he was press'd hard, as your
honour knows, on every side of him--

Gallant mortal! cried my uncle Toby, caught up with enthusiasm--this
moment, now that all is lost, I see him galloping across me, corporal, to
the left, to bring up the remains of the English horse along with him to
support the right, and tear the laurel from Luxembourg's brows, if yet 'tis
possible--I see him with the knot of his scarfe just shot off, infusing
fresh spirits into poor Galway's regiment--riding along the line--then
wheeling about, and charging Conti at the head of it--Brave, brave, by
heaven! cried my uncle Toby--he deserves a crown--As richly, as a thief a
halter; shouted Trim.

My uncle Toby knew the corporal's loyalty;--otherwise the comparison was
not at all to his mind--it did not altogether strike the corporal's fancy
when he had made it--but it could not be recall'd--so he had nothing to do,
but proceed.

As the number of wounded was prodigious, and no one had time to think of
any thing but his own safety--Though Talmash, said my uncle Toby, brought
off the foot with great prudence--But I was left upon the field, said the
corporal.  Thou wast so; poor fellow! replied my uncle Toby--So that it was
noon the next day, continued the corporal, before I was exchanged, and put
into a cart with thirteen or fourteen more, in order to be convey'd to our
hospital.

There is no part of the body, an' please your honour, where a wound
occasions more intolerable anguish than upon the knee--

Except the groin; said my uncle Toby.  An' please your honour, replied the
corporal, the knee, in my opinion, must certainly be the most acute, there
being so many tendons and what-d'ye-call-'ems all about it.

It is for that reason, quoth my uncle Toby, that the groin is infinitely
more sensible--there being not only as many tendons and what-d'ye-call-'ems
(for I know their names as little as thou dost)--about it--but moreover
...--

Mrs. Wadman, who had been all the time in her arbour--instantly stopp'd her
breath--unpinn'd her mob at the chin, and stood upon one leg--

The dispute was maintained with amicable and equal force betwixt my uncle
Toby and Trim for some time; till Trim at length recollecting that he had
often cried at his master's sufferings, but never shed a tear at his own--
was for giving up the point, which my uncle Toby would not allow--'Tis a
proof of nothing, Trim, said he, but the generosity of thy temper--

So that whether the pain of a wound in the groin (caeteris paribus) is
greater than the pain of a wound in the knee--or

Whether the pain of a wound in the knee is not greater than the pain of a
wound in the groin--are points which to this day remain unsettled.



Chapter 4.XLIV.

The anguish of my knee, continued the corporal, was excessive in itself;
and the uneasiness of the cart, with the roughness of the roads, which were
terribly cut up--making bad still worse--every step was death to me:  so
that with the loss of blood, and the want of care-taking of me, and a fever
I felt coming on besides--(Poor soul! said my uncle Toby)--all together,
an' please your honour, was more than I could sustain.

I was telling my sufferings to a young woman at a peasant's house, where
our cart, which was the last of the line, had halted; they had help'd me
in, and the young woman had taken a cordial out of her pocket and dropp'd
it upon some sugar, and seeing it had cheer'd me, she had given it me a
second and a third time--So I was telling her, an' please your honour, the
anguish I was in, and was saying it was so intolerable to me, that I had
much rather lie down upon the bed, turning my face towards one which was in
the corner of the room--and die, than go on--when, upon her attempting to
lead me to it, I fainted away in her arms.  She was a good soul! as your
honour, said the corporal, wiping his eyes, will hear.

I thought love had been a joyous thing, quoth my uncle Toby.

'Tis the most serious thing, an' please your honour (sometimes), that is in
the world.

By the persuasion of the young woman, continued the corporal, the cart with
the wounded men set off without me:  she had assured them I should expire
immediately if I was put into the cart.  So when I came to myself--I found
myself in a still quiet cottage, with no one but the young woman, and the
peasant and his wife.  I was laid across the bed in the corner of the room,
with my wounded leg upon a chair, and the young woman beside me, holding
the corner of her handkerchief dipp'd in vinegar to my nose with one hand,
and rubbing my temples with the other.

I took her at first for the daughter of the peasant (for it was no inn)--so
had offer'd her a little purse with eighteen florins, which my poor brother
Tom (here Trim wip'd his eyes) had sent me as a token, by a recruit, just
before he set out for Lisbon--

--I never told your honour that piteous story yet--here Trim wiped his eyes
a third time.

The young woman call'd the old man and his wife into the room, to shew them
the money, in order to gain me credit for a bed and what little necessaries
I should want, till I should be in a condition to be got to the hospital--
Come then! said she, tying up the little purse--I'll be your banker--but as
that office alone will not keep me employ'd, I'll be your nurse too.

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.
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