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

him, that the chesnut was originally his⁠—and in course, that it must have been the owner of the chesnut, and no one else, who could have played him such a prank with it: What greatly confirmed him in this opinion, was this, that the table being parallelogramical and very narrow, it afforded a fair opportunity for Yorick, who sat directly over against Phutatorius, of slipping the chesnut in⁠⸺⁠and consequently that he did it. The look of something more than suspicion, which Phutatorius cast full upon Yorick as these thoughts arose, too evidently spoke his opinion⁠⸺⁠and as Phutatorius was naturally supposed to know more of the matter than any person besides, his opinion at once became the general one;⁠⸺⁠and for a reason very different from any which have been yet given⁠⸺⁠in a little time it was put out of all manner of dispute.

When great or unexpected events fall out upon the stage of this sublunary world⁠⸺⁠the mind of man, which is an inquisitive kind of substance, naturally takes a flight behind the scenes to see what is the cause and first spring of them.⁠—The search was not long in this instance.

It was well known that Yorick had never a good opinion of the treatise which Phutatorius had wrote de Concubinis retinendis, as a thing which he feared had done hurt in the world⁠⸺⁠and ’twas easily found out, that there was a mystical meaning in Yorick’s prank⁠—and that his chucking the chesnut hot into Phutatorius’s ***⁠⸺*****, was a sarcastical fling at his book⁠—the doctrines of which, they said, had enflamed many an honest man in the same place.

This conceit awaken’d Somnolentus⁠⸺⁠made Agelastes smile⁠⸺⁠and if you can recollect the precise look and air of a man’s face intent in finding out a riddle⁠⸻it threw Gastripheres’s into that form⁠—and in short was thought by many to be a masterstroke of arch-wit.

This, as the reader has seen from one end to the other, was as groundless as the dreams of philosophy: Yorick, no doubt, as Shakespeare said of his ancestor⁠⸻“was a man of jest,” but it was temper’d with something which withheld him from that, and many other ungracious pranks, of which he as undeservedly bore the blame;⁠—but it was his misfortune all his life long to bear the imputation of saying and doing a thousand things, of which (unless my esteem blinds me) his nature was incapable. All I blame him for⁠⸺⁠or rather, all I blame and alternately like him for, was that singularity of his temper, which would never suffer him to take pains to set a story right with the world, however in his power. In every ill usage of that sort, he acted precisely as in the affair of his lean horse⁠⸺⁠he could have explained it to his honour, but his spirit was above it; and besides, he ever looked upon the inventor, the propagator and believer of an illiberal report alike so injurious to him⁠—he could not stoop to tell his story to them⁠—and so trusted to time and truth to do it for him.

This heroic cast produced him inconveniences in many respects⁠—in the present it was followed by the fixed resentment of Phutatorius, who, as Yorick had just made an end of his chesnut, rose up from his chair a second time, to let him know it⁠—which indeed he did with a smile; saying only⁠—that he would endeavour not to forget the obligation.

But you must mark and carefully separate and distinguish these two things in your mind.

⸺⁠The smile was for the company.

⸺⁠The threat was for Yorick.

XXVIII

—Can you tell me, quoth Phutatorius, speaking to Gastripheres who sat next to him⁠⸺⁠for one would not apply to a surgeon in so foolish an affair⁠⸺⁠can you tell me, Gastripheres, what is best to take out the fire?⁠⸺⁠Ask Eugenius, said Gastripheres.⁠⸺⁠That greatly depends, said Eugenius, pretending ignorance of the adventure, upon the nature of the part⁠⸺⁠If it is a tender part, and a part which can conveniently be wrapt up⁠⸻It is both the one and the other, replied Phutatorius, laying his hand as he spoke, with an emphatical nod of his head, upon the part in question, and lifting up his right leg at the same time to ease and ventilate it.⁠⸻If that is the case, said Eugenius, I would advise you, Phutatorius, not to tamper with it by any means; but if you will send to the next printer, and trust your cure to such a simple thing as a soft sheet of paper just come off the press⁠—you need do nothing more than twist it round.⁠—The damp paper, quoth Yorick (who sat next to his friend Eugenius) though I know it has a refreshing coolness in it⁠—yet I presume is no more than the vehicle⁠—and that the oil and lampblack with which the paper is so strongly impregnated, does the business.⁠—Right, said Eugenius, and is, of any outward application I would venture to recommend, the most anodyne and safe.

Was it my case, said Gastripheres, as the main thing is the oil and lampblack, I should spread them thick upon a rag, and clap it on directly.⁠⸻That would make a very devil of it, replied Yorick.⁠⸺⁠And besides, added Eugenius, it would not answer the intention, which is the extreme neatness and elegance of the prescription, which the Faculty hold to be half in half;⁠⸺⁠for consider, if the type is a very small one (which it should be) the sanative particles, which come into contact in this form, have the advantage of being spread so infinitely thin, and with such a mathematical equality (fresh paragraphs and large capitals excepted) as no art or management of the spatula can come up to.⁠⸻It falls out very luckily, replied Phutatorius, that the second edition of my treatise de Concubinis retinendis is at this instant in the press.⁠⸻You may take any leaf of it, said Eugenius⁠⸻no matter which.⁠⸺⁠Provided, quoth Yorick, there is no bawdry in it.⁠⸻

They are just now, replied Phutatorius, printing off the ninth chapter⁠⸺⁠which is the last chapter but one