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

of them, as thou happenest to be a storyteller, 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 bareheaded, 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 forepart, 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 moralise 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 forever.”

⸺⁠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 anything 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 choosest, 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