The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Sterne (pdf e book reader txt) 📕

rouse the muleteer from his banquet?⁠⸺⁠no sweet minstrelsy to bring back the fair idea of the abbess and Margarita, with their black rosaries!

Rouse! rouse!⁠⸺⁠but ’tis too late⁠—the horrid words are pronounced this moment⁠⸺⁠

⸺⁠and how to tell them⁠—Ye, who can speak of everything existing, with unpolluted lips, instruct me⁠⸺⁠guide me⁠⸺⁠

XXV

All sins whatever, quoth the abbess, turning casuist in the distress they were under, are held by the confessor of our convent to be either mortal or venial: there is no further division. Now a venial sin being the slightest and least of all sins⁠—being halved⁠—by taking either only the half of it, and leaving the rest⁠—or, by taking it all, and amicably halving it betwixt yourself and another person⁠—in course becomes diluted into no sin at all.

Now I see no sin in saying, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, a hundred times together; nor is there any turpitude in pronouncing the syllable ger, ger, ger, ger, ger, were it from our matins to our vespers: Therefore, my dear daughter, continued the abbess of Andoüillets⁠—I will say bou, and thou shalt say ger; and then alternately, as there is no more sin in fou than in bou⁠—Thou shalt say fou⁠—and I will come in (like fa, sol, la, re, mi, ut, at our complines) with ter. And accordingly the abbess, giving the pitch note, set off thus:

Abbess, } Bou - - bou - - bou - - Margarita, ⸺⁠ger, - - ger, - - ger. Margarita, } Fou - - fou - - fou - - Abbess, ⸺⁠ter, - - ter, - - ter.

The two mules acknowledged the notes by a mutual lash of their tails; but it went no further⁠⸺’Twill answer by an’ by, said the novice.

Abbess, } Bou- bou- bou- bou- bou- bou- Margarita, —ger, ger, ger, ger, ger, ger.

Quicker still, cried Margarita.

Fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou.

Quicker still, cried Margarita.

Bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou,

Quicker still⁠—God preserve me; said the abbess⁠—They do not understand us, cried Margarita⁠—But the Devil does, said the abbess of Andoüillets.

XXVI

What a tract of country have I run!⁠—how many degrees nearer to the warm sun am I advanced, and how many fair and goodly cities have I seen, during the time you have been reading, and reflecting, Madam, upon this story! There’s Fontainbleau, and Sens, and Joigny, and Auxerre, and Dijon the capital of Burgundy, and Challon, and Mâcon the capital of the Mâconese, and a score more upon the road to Lyons⁠⸺⁠and now I have run them over⁠⸺⁠I might as well talk to you of so many market towns in the moon, as tell you one word about them: it will be this chapter at the least, if not both this and the next entirely lost, do what I will⁠⸺⁠

⸺⁠Why, ’tis a strange story! Tristram.

⁠⸺⁠Alas! Madam, had it been upon some melancholy lecture of the cross⁠—the peace of meekness, or the contentment of resignation⁠⸺⁠I had not been incommoded: or had I thought of writing it upon the purer abstractions of the soul, and that food of wisdom and holiness and contemplation, upon which the spirit of man (when separated from the body) is to subsist forever⁠⸺⁠You would have come with a better appetite from it⁠⸺⁠

⸺⁠I wish I never had wrote it: but as I never blot anything out⁠⸺⁠let us use some honest means to get it out of our heads directly.

⸺⁠Pray reach me my fool’s cap⁠⸺⁠I fear you sit upon it, Madam⁠⸺’tis under the cushion⁠⸺⁠I’ll put it on⁠⸺⁠

Bless me! you have had it upon your head this half hour.⁠⸺⁠There then let it stay, with a

Fa-ra diddle di

and a fa-ri diddle d

and a high-dum⁠—dye-dum

fiddle - - - dumb - c.

And now, Madam, we may venture, I hope, a little to go on.

XXVII

⸺⁠All you need say of Fontainbleau (in case you are ask’d) is, that it stands about forty miles (south something) from Paris, in the middle of a large forest⁠⸺⁠That there is something great in it⁠⸺⁠That the king goes there once every two or three years, with his whole court, for the pleasure of the chase⁠—and that, during that carnival of sporting, any English gentleman of fashion (you need not forget yourself) may be accommodated with a nag or two, to partake of the sport, taking care only not to out-gallop the king⁠⸺⁠

Though there are two reasons why you need not talk loud of this to everyone.

First, Because ’twill make the said nags the harder to be got; and

Secondly, ’Tis not a word of it true.⁠⸺⁠Allons!

As for Sens⁠⸺⁠you may dispatch⁠—in a word⁠⸻“’Tis an archiepiscopal see.”

⸺⁠For Joigny⁠—the less, I think, one says of it the better.

But for Auxerre⁠—I could go on forever: for in my grand tour through Europe, in which, after all, my father (not caring to trust me with anyone) attended me himself, with my uncle Toby, and Trim, and Obadiah, and indeed most of the family, except my mother, who being taken up with a project of knitting my father a pair of large worsted breeches⁠—(the thing is common sense)⁠—and she not caring to be put out of her way, she stayed at home, at Shandy Hall, to keep things right during the expedition; in which, I say, my father stopping us two days at Auxerre, and his researches being ever of such a nature, that they would have found fruit even in a desert⁠⸺⁠he has left me enough to say upon Auxerre: in short, wherever my father went⁠⸺⁠but ’twas more remarkably so, in this journey through France and Italy, than in any other stages of his life⁠⸺⁠his road seemed to lie so much on one side of that, wherein all other travellers have gone before him⁠—he saw kings and courts and silks of all colours, in such strange lights⁠⸺⁠and his remarks and reasonings upon the characters, the manners, and customs, of the countries we pass’d over, were so opposite to those of all other mortal men, particularly those of my uncle Toby and Trim⁠—(to say nothing of myself)⁠—and to crown all⁠—the occurrences and scrapes which we were perpetually meeting