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traveller ever stood before me; for I am this moment walking across the marketplace of Auxerre with my father and my uncle Toby, in our way back to dinner⁠⸺⁠and I am this moment also entering Lyons with my post-chaise broke into a thousand pieces⁠—and I am moreover this moment in a handsome pavillion built by Pringello,32 upon the banks of the Garonne, which Mons. Sligniac has lent me, and where I now sit rhapsodising all these affairs.

⸺⁠Let me collect myself, and pursue my journey.

XXIX

I am glad of it, said I, settling the account with myself, as I walk’d into Lyons⁠⸺⁠my chaise being all laid higgledy-piggledy with my baggage in a cart, which was moving slowly before me⁠⸺⁠I am heartily glad, said I, that ’tis all broke to pieces; for now I can go directly by water to Avignon, which will carry me on a hundred and twenty miles of my journey, and not cost me seven livres⁠⸺⁠and from thence, continued I, bringing forwards the account, I can hire a couple of mules⁠—or asses, if I like (for nobody knows me) and cross the plains of Languedoc for almost nothing⁠⸺⁠I shall gain four hundred livres by the misfortune clear into my purse: and pleasure! worth⁠—worth double the money by it. With what velocity, continued I, clapping my two hands together, shall I fly down the rapid Rhone, with the Vivares on my right hand, and Dauphiny on my left, scarce seeing the ancient cities of Vienne, Valence, and Vivieres. What a flame will it rekindle in the lamp, to snatch a blushing grape from the Hermitage and Côte roti, as I shoot by the foot of them! and what a fresh spring in the blood! to behold upon the banks advancing and retiring, the castles of romance, whence courteous knights have whilome rescued the distress’d⁠⸺⁠and see vertiginous, the rocks, the mountains, the cataracts, and all the hurry which Nature is in with all her great works about her.

As I went on thus, methought my chaise, the wreck of which look’d stately enough at the first, insensibly grew less and less in its size; the freshness of the painting was no more⁠—the gilding lost its lustre⁠—and the whole affair appeared so poor in my eyes⁠—so sorry!⁠—so contemptible! and, in a word, so much worse than the abbess of Andoüillets’ itself⁠—that I was just opening my mouth to give it to the devil⁠—when a pert vamping chaise-undertaker, stepping nimbly across the street, demanded if Monsieur would have his chaise refitted⁠⸺⁠No, no, said I, shaking my head sideways⁠—Would Monsieur choose to sell it? rejoined the undertaker.⁠—With all my soul, said I⁠—the iron work is worth forty livres⁠—and the glasses worth forty more⁠—and the leather you may take to live on.

What a mine of wealth, quoth I, as he counted me the money, has this post-chaise brought me in? And this is my usual method of bookkeeping, at least with the disasters of life⁠—making a penny of every one of ’em as they happen to me⁠⸺⁠

⸺⁠Do, my dear Jenny, tell the world for me, how I behaved under one, the most oppressive of its kind, which could befal me as a man, proud as he ought to be of his manhood⁠⸺⁠

’Tis enough, saidst thou, coming close up to me, as I stood with my garters in my hand, reflecting upon what had not pass’d⁠⸺’Tis enough, Tristram, and I am satisfied, saidst thou, whispering these words in my ear, **** ** **** *** ******;⁠—**** ** **⁠⸺⁠any other man would have sunk down to the center⁠⸺⁠

⸺⁠Everything is good for something, quoth I.

⸺⁠I’ll go into Wales for six weeks, and drink goat’s whey⁠—and I’ll gain seven years longer life for the accident. For which reason I think myself inexcusable, for blaming fortune so often as I have done, for pelting me all my life long, like an ungracious duchess, as I call’d her, with so many small evils: surely, if I have any cause to be angry with her, ’tis that she has not sent me great ones⁠—a score of good cursed, bouncing losses, would have been as good as a pension to me.

⸺⁠One of a hundred a year, or so, is all I wish⁠—I would not be at the plague of paying land-tax for a larger.

XXX

To those who call vexations, vexations, as knowing what they are, there could not be a greater, than to be the best part of a day at Lyons, the most opulent and flourishing city in France, enriched with the most fragments of antiquity⁠—and not be able to see it. To be withheld upon any account, must be a vexation; but to be withheld by a vexation⁠⸺⁠must certainly be, what philosophy justly calls

Vexation
upon
Vexation.

I had got my two dishes of milk coffee (which by the by is excellently good for a consumption, but you must boil the milk and coffee together⁠—otherwise ’tis only coffee and milk)⁠—and as it was no more than eight in the morning, and the boat did not go off till noon, I had time to see enough of Lyons to tire the patience of all the friends I had in the world with it. I will take a walk to the cathedral, said I, looking at my list, and see the wonderful mechanism of this great clock of Lippius of Basil, in the first place⁠⸺⁠

Now, of all things in the world, I understand the least of mechanism⁠⸺⁠I have neither genius, or taste, or fancy⁠—and have a brain so entirely unapt for everything of that kind, that I solemnly declare I was never yet able to comprehend the principles of motion of a squirrel cage, or a common knife-grinder’s wheel⁠—tho’ I have many an hour of my life look’d up with great devotion at the one⁠—and stood by with as much patience as any christian ever could do, at the other⁠⸺⁠

I’ll go see the surprising movements of this great clock, said I, the very first thing I do: and then I will pay a visit to the great library

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