The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman Part 55

Chapter 4.XX.

And now for Lippius's clock! said I, with the air of a man, who had got thro' all his difficulties-nothing can prevent us seeing that, and the Chinese history, &c. except the time, said Francois-for 'tis almost eleven-then we must speed the faster, said I, striding it away to the cathedral.

I cannot say, in my heart, that it gave me any concern in being told by one of the minor canons, as I was entering the west door,-That Lippius's great clock was all out of joints, and had not gone for some years-It will give me the more time, thought I, to peruse the Chinese history; and besides I shall be able to give the world a better account of the clock in its decay, than I could have done in its flourishing condition-

-And so away I posted to the college of the Jesuits.

Now it is with the project of getting a peep at the history of China in Chinese characters-as with many others I could mention, which strike the fancy only at a distance; for as I came nearer and nearer to the point-my blood cool'd-the freak gradually went off, till at length I would not have given a cherry-stone to have it gratified-The truth was, my time was short, and my heart was at the Tomb of the Lovers-I wish to G.o.d, said I, as I got the rapper in my hand, that the key of the library may be but lost; it fell out as well-

For all the Jesuits had got the cholic-and to that degree, as never was known in the memory of the oldest pract.i.tioner.

Chapter 4.XXI.

As I knew the geography of the Tomb of the Lovers, as well as if I had lived twenty years in Lyons, namely, that it was upon the turning of my right hand, just without the gate, leading to the Fauxbourg de Vaise-I dispatched Francois to the boat, that I might pay the homage I so long ow'd it, without a witness of my weakness-I walk'd with all imaginable joy towards the place-when I saw the gate which intercepted the tomb, my heart glowed within me-

-Tender and faithful spirits! cried I, addressing myself to Amandus and Amanda-long-long have I tarried to drop this tear upon your tomb-I come-I come-

When I came-there was no tomb to drop it upon.

What would I have given for my uncle Toby, to have whistled Lillo bullero!

Chapter 4.XXII.

No matter how, or in what mood-but I flew from the tomb of the lovers-or rather I did not fly from it-(for there was no such thing existing) and just got time enough to the boat to save my pa.s.sage;-and ere I had sailed a hundred yards, the Rhone and the Saon met together, and carried me down merrily betwixt them.

But I have described this voyage down the Rhone, before I made it-

-So now I am at Avignon, and as there is nothing to see but the old house, in which the duke of Ormond resided, and nothing to stop me but a short remark upon the place, in three minutes you will see me crossing the bridge upon a mule, with Francois upon a horse with my portmanteau behind him, and the owner of both, striding the way before us, with a long gun upon his shoulder, and a sword under his arm, lest peradventure we should run away with his cattle. Had you seen my breeches in entering Avignon,-Though you'd have seen them better, I think, as I mounted-you would not have thought the precaution amiss, or found in your heart to have taken it in dudgeon; for my own part, I took it most kindly; and determined to make him a present of them, when we got to the end of our journey, for the trouble they had put him to, of arming himself at all points against them.

Before I go further, let me get rid of my remark upon Avignon, which is this: That I think it wrong, merely because a man's hat has been blown off his head by chance the first night he comes to Avignon,-that he should therefore say, 'Avignon is more subject to high winds than any town in all France:' for which reason I laid no stress upon the accident till I had enquired of the master of the inn about it, who telling me seriously it was so-and hearing, moreover, the windiness of Avignon spoke of in the country about as a proverb-I set it down, merely to ask the learned what can be the cause-the consequence I saw-for they are all Dukes, Marquisses, and Counts, there-the duce a Baron, in all Avignon-so that there is scarce any talking to them on a windy day.

Prithee, friend, said I, take hold of my mule for a moment-for I wanted to pull off one of my jack-boots, which hurt my heel-the man was standing quite idle at the door of the inn, and as I had taken it into my head, he was someway concerned about the house or stable, I put the bridle into his hand-so begun with the boot:-when I had finished the affair, I turned about to take the mule from the man, and thank him-

-But Monsieur le Marquis had walked in-

Chapter 4.XXIII.

I had now the whole south of France, from the banks of the Rhone to those of the Garonne, to traverse upon my mule at my own leisure-at my own leisure-for I had left Death, the Lord knows-and He only-how far behind me-'I have followed many a man thro' France, quoth he-but never at this mettlesome rate.'-Still he followed,-and still I fled him-but I fled him cheerfully-still he pursued-but, like one who pursued his prey without hope-as he lagg'd, every step he lost, softened his looks-why should I fly him at this rate?

So notwithstanding all the commissary of the post-office had said, I changed the mode of my travelling once more; and, after so precipitate and rattling a course as I had run, I flattered my fancy with thinking of my mule, and that I should traverse the rich plains of Languedoc upon his back, as slowly as foot could fall.

There is nothing more pleasing to a traveller-or more terrible to travel-writers, than a large rich plain; especially if it is without great rivers or bridges; and presents nothing to the eye, but one unvaried picture of plenty: for after they have once told you, that 'tis delicious! or delightful! (as the case happens)-that the soil was grateful, and that nature pours out all her abundance, &c...they have then a large plain upon their hands, which they know not what to do with-and which is of little or no use to them but to carry them to some town; and that town, perhaps of little more, but a new place to start from to the next plain-and so on.

-This is most terrible work; judge if I don't manage my plains better.

Chapter 4.XXIV.

I had not gone above two leagues and a half, before the man with his gun began to look at his priming.

I had three several times loiter'd terribly behind; half a mile at least every time; once, in deep conference with a drum-maker, who was making drums for the fairs of Baucaira and Tarascone-I did not understand the principles-

The second time, I cannot so properly say, I stopp'd-for meeting a couple of Franciscans straitened more for time than myself, and not being able to get to the bottom of what I was about-I had turn'd back with them-

The third, was an affair of trade with a gossip, for a hand-basket of Provence figs for four sous; this would have been transacted at once; but for a case of conscience at the close of it; for when the figs were paid for, it turn'd out, that there were two dozen of eggs covered over with vine-leaves at the bottom of the basket-as I had no intention of buying eggs-I made no sort of claim of them-as for the s.p.a.ce they had occupied-what signified it? I had figs enow for my money-

-But it was my intention to have the basket-it was the gossip's intention to keep it, without which, she could do nothing with her eggs-and unless I had the basket, I could do as little with my figs, which were too ripe already, and most of 'em burst at the side: this brought on a short contention, which terminated in sundry proposals, what we should both do-

-How we disposed of our eggs and figs, I defy you, or the Devil himself, had he not been there (which I am persuaded he was), to form the least probable conjecture: You will read the whole of it-not this year, for I am hastening to the story of my uncle Toby's amours-but you will read it in the collection of those which have arose out of the journey across this plain-and which, therefore, I call my

Plain Stories.

How far my pen has been fatigued, like those of other travellers, in this journey of it, over so barren a track-the world must judge-but the traces of it, which are now all set o' vibrating together this moment, tell me 'tis the most fruitful and busy period of my life; for as I had made no convention with my man with the gun, as to time-by stopping and talking to every soul I met, who was not in a full trot-joining all parties before me-waiting for every soul behind-hailing all those who were coming through cross-roads-arresting all kinds of beggars, pilgrims, fiddlers, friars-not pa.s.sing by a woman in a mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting her into conversation with a pinch of snuff-In short, by seizing every handle, of what size or shape soever, which chance held out to me in this journey-I turned my plain into a city-I was always in company, and with great variety too; and as my mule loved society as much as myself, and had some proposals always on his part to offer to every beast he met-I am confident we could have pa.s.sed through Pall-Mall, or St. James's-Street, for a month together, with fewer adventures-and seen less of human nature.

O! there is that sprightly frankness, which at once unpins every plait of a Languedocian's dress-that whatever is beneath it, it looks so like the simplicity which poets sing of in better days-I will delude my fancy, and believe it is so.

'Twas in the road betwixt Nismes and Lunel, where there is the best Muscatto wine in all France, and which by the bye belongs to the honest canons of Montpellier-and foul befal the man who has drunk it at their table, who grudges them a drop of it.

-The sun was set-they had done their work; the nymphs had tied up their hair afresh-and the swains were preparing for a carousal-my mule made a dead point-'Tis the fife and tabourin, said I-I'm frighten'd to death, quoth he-They are running at the ring of pleasure, said I, giving him a p.r.i.c.k-By saint Boogar, and all the saints at the backside of the door of purgatory, said he-(making the same resolution with the abbesse of Andouillets) I'll not go a step further-'Tis very well, sir, said I-I never will argue a point with one of your family, as long as I live; so leaping off his back, and kicking off one boot into this ditch, and t'other into that-I'll take a dance, said I-so stay you here.

A sun-burnt daughter of Labour rose up from the groupe to meet me, as I advanced towards them; her hair, which was a dark chesnut approaching rather to a black, was tied up in a knot, all but a single tress.

We want a cavalier, said she, holding out both her hands, as if to offer them-And a cavalier ye shall have; said I, taking hold of both of them.

Hadst thou, Nannette, been array'd like a d.u.c.h.esse!

-But that cursed slit in thy petticoat!

Nannette cared not for it.

We could not have done without you, said she, letting go one hand, with self-taught politeness, leading me up with the other.

A lame youth, whom Apollo had recompensed with a pipe, and to which he had added a tabourin of his own accord, ran sweetly over the prelude, as he sat upon the bank-Tie me up this tress instantly, said Nannette, putting a piece of string into my hand-It taught me to forget I was a stranger-The whole knot fell down-We had been seven years acquainted.