The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy [116]
as at this rate I should just live 364 times faster than I should write--It must follow, an' please your worships, that the more I write, the more I shall have to write--and consequently, the more your worships read, the more your worships will have to read.
Will this be good for your worships eyes?
It will do well for mine; and, was it not that my Opinions will be the death of me, I perceive I shall lead a fine life of it out of this self- same life of mine; or, in other words, shall lead a couple of fine lives together.
As for the proposal of twelve volumes a year, or a volume a month, it no way alters my prospect--write as I will, and rush as I may into the middle of things, as Horace advises--I shall never overtake myself whipp'd and driven to the last pinch; at the worst I shall have one day the start of my pen--and one day is enough for two volumes--and two volumes will be enough for one year.--
Heaven prosper the manufacturers of paper under this propitious reign, which is now opened to us--as I trust its providence will prosper every thing else in it that is taken in hand.
As for the propagation of Geese--I give myself no concern--Nature is all- bountiful--I shall never want tools to work with.
--So then, friend! you have got my father and my uncle Toby off the stairs, and seen them to bed?--And how did you manage it?--You dropp'd a curtain at the stair-foot--I thought you had no other way for it--Here's a crown for your trouble.
Chapter 2.XLIX.
--Then reach me my breeches off the chair, said my father to Susannah.-- There is not a moment's time to dress you, Sir, cried Susannah--the child is as black in the face as my--As your what? said my father, for like all orators, he was a dear searcher into comparisons.--Bless, me, Sir, said Susannah, the child's in a fit.--And where's Mr. Yorick?--Never where he should be, said Susannah, but his curate's in the dressing-room, with the child upon his arm, waiting for the name--and my mistress bid me run as fast as I could to know, as captain Shandy is the godfather, whether it should not be called after him.
Were one sure, said my father to himself, scratching his eye-brow, that the child was expiring, one might as well compliment my brother Toby as not-- and it would be a pity, in such a case, to throw away so great a name as Trismegistus upon him--but he may recover.
No, no,--said my father to Susannah, I'll get up--There is no time, cried Susannah, the child's as black as my shoe. Trismegistus, said my father-- But stay--thou art a leaky vessel, Susannah, added my father; canst thou carry Trismegistus in thy head, the length of the gallery without scattering?--Can I? cried Susannah, shutting the door in a huff.--If she can, I'll be shot, said my father, bouncing out of bed in the dark, and groping for his breeches.
Susannah ran with all speed along the gallery.
My father made all possible speed to find his breeches.
Susannah got the start, and kept it--'Tis Tris--something, cried Susannah-- There is no christian-name in the world, said the curate, beginning with Tris--but Tristram. Then 'tis Tristram-gistus, quoth Susannah.
--There is no gistus to it, noodle!--'tis my own name, replied the curate, dipping his hand, as he spoke, into the bason--Tristram! said he, &c. &c. &c. &c.--so Tristram was I called, and Tristram shall I be to the day of my death.
My father followed Susannah, with his night-gown across his arm, with nothing more than his breeches on, fastened through haste with but a single button, and that button through haste thrust only half into the button- hole.
--She has not forgot the name, cried my father, half opening the door?--No, no, said the curate, with a tone of intelligence.--And the child is better, cried Susannah.--And how does your mistress? As well, said Susannah, as can be expected.--Pish! said my father, the button of his breeches slipping out of the button-hole--So that whether the interjection was levelled at Susannah, or the button-hole--whether Pish was an interjection of contempt or an
Will this be good for your worships eyes?
It will do well for mine; and, was it not that my Opinions will be the death of me, I perceive I shall lead a fine life of it out of this self- same life of mine; or, in other words, shall lead a couple of fine lives together.
As for the proposal of twelve volumes a year, or a volume a month, it no way alters my prospect--write as I will, and rush as I may into the middle of things, as Horace advises--I shall never overtake myself whipp'd and driven to the last pinch; at the worst I shall have one day the start of my pen--and one day is enough for two volumes--and two volumes will be enough for one year.--
Heaven prosper the manufacturers of paper under this propitious reign, which is now opened to us--as I trust its providence will prosper every thing else in it that is taken in hand.
As for the propagation of Geese--I give myself no concern--Nature is all- bountiful--I shall never want tools to work with.
--So then, friend! you have got my father and my uncle Toby off the stairs, and seen them to bed?--And how did you manage it?--You dropp'd a curtain at the stair-foot--I thought you had no other way for it--Here's a crown for your trouble.
Chapter 2.XLIX.
--Then reach me my breeches off the chair, said my father to Susannah.-- There is not a moment's time to dress you, Sir, cried Susannah--the child is as black in the face as my--As your what? said my father, for like all orators, he was a dear searcher into comparisons.--Bless, me, Sir, said Susannah, the child's in a fit.--And where's Mr. Yorick?--Never where he should be, said Susannah, but his curate's in the dressing-room, with the child upon his arm, waiting for the name--and my mistress bid me run as fast as I could to know, as captain Shandy is the godfather, whether it should not be called after him.
Were one sure, said my father to himself, scratching his eye-brow, that the child was expiring, one might as well compliment my brother Toby as not-- and it would be a pity, in such a case, to throw away so great a name as Trismegistus upon him--but he may recover.
No, no,--said my father to Susannah, I'll get up--There is no time, cried Susannah, the child's as black as my shoe. Trismegistus, said my father-- But stay--thou art a leaky vessel, Susannah, added my father; canst thou carry Trismegistus in thy head, the length of the gallery without scattering?--Can I? cried Susannah, shutting the door in a huff.--If she can, I'll be shot, said my father, bouncing out of bed in the dark, and groping for his breeches.
Susannah ran with all speed along the gallery.
My father made all possible speed to find his breeches.
Susannah got the start, and kept it--'Tis Tris--something, cried Susannah-- There is no christian-name in the world, said the curate, beginning with Tris--but Tristram. Then 'tis Tristram-gistus, quoth Susannah.
--There is no gistus to it, noodle!--'tis my own name, replied the curate, dipping his hand, as he spoke, into the bason--Tristram! said he, &c. &c. &c. &c.--so Tristram was I called, and Tristram shall I be to the day of my death.
My father followed Susannah, with his night-gown across his arm, with nothing more than his breeches on, fastened through haste with but a single button, and that button through haste thrust only half into the button- hole.
--She has not forgot the name, cried my father, half opening the door?--No, no, said the curate, with a tone of intelligence.--And the child is better, cried Susannah.--And how does your mistress? As well, said Susannah, as can be expected.--Pish! said my father, the button of his breeches slipping out of the button-hole--So that whether the interjection was levelled at Susannah, or the button-hole--whether Pish was an interjection of contempt or an