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this great windlass, and, having done it, lead the owners of them, whither ye think meet⁠—

Ye, lastly, who drive⁠⸺⁠and why not, Ye also who are driven, like turkeys to market with a stick and a red clout⁠—meditate⁠—meditate, I beseech you, upon Trim’s hat.

VIII

Stay⁠⸺⁠I have a small account to settle with the reader before Trim can go on with his harangue.⁠—It shall be done in two minutes.

Amongst many other book-debts, all of which I shall discharge in due time,⁠—I own myself a debtor to the world for two items,⁠—a chapter upon chambermaids and buttonholes, which, in the former part of my work, I promised and fully intended to pay off this year: but some of your worships and reverences telling me, that the two subjects, especially so connected together, might endanger the morals of the world,⁠—I pray the chapter upon chambermaids and buttonholes may be forgiven me,⁠—and that they will accept of the last chapter in lieu of it; which is nothing, an’t please your reverences, but a chapter of chambermaids, green gowns, and old hats.

Trim took his off the ground,⁠—put it upon his head,⁠—and then went on with his oration upon death, in manner and form following.

IX

⸻To us, Jonathan, who know not what want or care is⁠—who live here in the service of two of the best of masters⁠—(bating in my own case his majesty King William the Third, whom I had the honour to serve both in Ireland and Flanders)⁠—I own it, that from Whitsontide to within three weeks of Christmas,⁠—’tis not long⁠—’tis like nothing;⁠—but to those, Jonathan, who know what death is, and what havock and destruction he can make, before a man can well wheel about⁠—’tis like a whole age.⁠—O Jonathan! ’twould make a good-natured man’s heart bleed, to consider, continued the corporal (standing perpendicularly), how low many a brave and upright fellow has been laid since that time!⁠—And trust me, Susy, added the corporal, turning to Susannah, whose eyes were swimming in water,⁠—before that time comes round again,⁠—many a bright eye will be dim.⁠—Susannah placed it to the right side of the page⁠—she wept⁠—but she court’sied too.⁠—Are we not, continued Trim, looking still at Susannah⁠—are we not like a flower of the field⁠—a tear of pride stole in betwixt every two tears of humiliation⁠—else no tongue could have described Susannah’s affliction⁠—is not all flesh grass?⁠—’Tis clay,⁠—’tis dirt.⁠—They all looked directly at the scullion,⁠—the scullion had just been scouring a fish-kettle.⁠—It was not fair.⁠⸺⁠

—What is the finest face that ever man looked at!⁠—I could hear Trim talk so forever, cried Susannah,⁠—what is it! (Susannah laid her hand upon Trim’s shoulder)⁠—but corruption?⁠⸺⁠Susannah took it off.

Now I love you for this⁠—and ’tis this delicious mixture within you which makes you dear creatures what you are⁠—and he who hates you for it⁠⸻all I can say of the matter is⁠—That he has either a pumpkin for his head⁠—or a pippin for his heart,⁠—and whenever he is dissected ’twill be found so.

X

Whether Susannah, by taking her hand too suddenly from off the corporal’s shoulder (by the whisking about of her passions)⁠⸺⁠broke a little the chain of his reflections⁠⸺⁠

Or whether the corporal began to be suspicious, he had got into the doctor’s quarters, and was talking more like the chaplain than himself⁠⸻

Or whether- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Or whether⁠⸺⁠for in all such cases a man of invention and parts may with pleasure fill a couple of pages with suppositions⁠⸺⁠which of all these was the cause, let the curious physiologist, or the curious anybody determine⁠⸺’tis certain, at least, the corporal went on thus with his harangue.

For my own part, I declare it, that out of doors, I value not death at all:⁠—not this⁠ ⁠… added the corporal, snapping his fingers,⁠—but with an air which no one but the corporal could have given to the sentiment.⁠—In battle, I value death not this⁠ ⁠… and let him not take me cowardly, like poor Joe Gibbins, in scouring his gun⁠—What is he? A pull of a trigger⁠—a push of a bayonet an inch this way or that⁠—makes the difference.⁠—Look along the line⁠—to the right⁠—see! Jack’s down! well,⁠—’tis worth a regiment of horse to him.⁠—No⁠—’tis Dick. Then Jack’s no worse.⁠—Never mind which,⁠—we pass on,⁠—in hot pursuit the wound itself which brings him is not felt,⁠—the best way is to stand up to him,⁠—the man who flies, is in ten times more danger than the man who marches up into his jaws.⁠—I’ve look’d him, added the corporal, an hundred times in the face,⁠—and know what he is.⁠—He’s nothing, Obadiah, at all in the field.⁠—But he’s very frightful in a house, quoth Obadiah.⁠⸺⁠I never mind it myself, said Jonathan, upon a coach-box.⁠—It must, in my opinion, be most natural in bed, replied Susannah.⁠—And could I escape him by creeping into the worst calf’s skin that ever was made into a knapsack, I would do it there⁠—said Trim⁠—but that is nature.

⸺⁠Nature is nature, said Jonathan.⁠—And that is the reason, cried Susannah, I so much pity my mistress.⁠—She will never get the better of it.⁠—Now I pity the captain the most of anyone in the family, answered Trim.⁠⸺⁠Madam will get ease of heart in weeping,⁠—and the Squire in talking about it,⁠—but my poor master will keep it all in silence to himself,⁠—I shall hear him sigh in his bed for a whole month together, as he did for lieutenant Le Fever.⁠—An’ please your honour, do not sigh so piteously, I would say to him as I laid besides him. I cannot help it, Trim, my master would say,⁠⸺’tis so melancholy an accident⁠—I cannot get it off my heart.⁠—Your honour fears not death yourself.⁠—I hope, Trim, I fear nothing, he would say, but the doing a wrong thing.⁠⸺⁠Well, he would add, whatever betides, I will take care of Le Fever’s boy.⁠—And with that, like a quieting draught, his honour would fall asleep.

I like to hear Trim’s stories about the captain, said Susannah.⁠—He is a kindly-hearted gentleman, said Obadiah, as ever lived.⁠—Aye, and as brave a one too, said the corporal, as ever stepped before

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