The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman - Laurence Sterne [212]
The muleteer, as I told you, was a little, joyous, chirping fellow, who thought not of to-morrow, nor of what had gone before, or what was to follow it, provided he got but his scantling of Burgundy, and a little chit-chat along with it; so entering into a long conversation, as how he was chief gardener to the convent of Andoüillets, &c. &c. and out of friendship for the abbess and Mademoiselle Margarita, who was only in her noviciate, he had come along with them from the confines of Savoy, &c.–&c.–and as how she had got a white swelling13 by her devotions——and what a nation of herbs he had procured to mollify her humours, &c. &c. and that if the waters of Bourbon did not mend that leg—she might as well be lame of both—&c. &c. &c.—He so contrived his story as absolutely to forget the heroine of it—and with her, the little novice, and what was a more ticklish point to be forgot than both—the two mules; who being creatures that take advantage of the world, inasmuch as their parents took it of them—and they not being in a condition to return the obligation downwards (as men and women and beasts are)—they do it side-ways, and long-ways, and back-ways—and up hill, and down hill, and which way they can.——Philosophers, with all their ethics, have never considered this rightly—how should the poor muleteer then, in his cups, consider it at all? he did not in the least—’tis time we do; let us leave him then in the vortex of his element, the happiest and most thoughtless of mortal men——and for a moment let us look after the mules, the abbess, and Margarita.
By virtue of the muleteer’s two last strokes, the mules had gone quietly on, following their own consciences up the hill, till they had conquer’d about one half of it; when the elder of them, a shrewd crafty old devil, at the turn of an angle, giving a side glance, and no muleteer behind them——
By my fig!14 said she, swearing, I’ll go no further——And if I do, replied the other—they shall make a drum of my hide.——
And so with one consent they stopp’d thus——
CHAP. XXII
——Get on with you, said the abbess.
——Wh----ysh——ysh——cried Margarita.
Sh—a——shu - u———shu–u—sh–aw——shaw’d the abbess.
——Whu—v—w———whew—w—w—whuv’d Margarita, pursing up her sweet lips betwixt a hoot and a whistle.
Thump—thump—thump—obstreperated1 the abbess of Andoüillets with the end of her gold-headed cane against the bottom of the calesh——
——The old mule let a f—
CHAP. XXIII
We are ruin’d and undone, my child, said the abbess to Margarita——we shall be here all night——we shall be plunder’d——we shall be ravish’d——
——We shall be ravish’d, said Margarita, as sure as a gun.1
Sancta Maria! cried the abbess (forgetting the O!)—why was I govern’d by this wicked stiff joint? why did I leave the convent of Andoüillets? and why didst thou not suffer thy servant to go unpolluted to her tomb?
O my finger! my finger! cried the novice, catching fire at the word servant—why was I not content to put it here, or there, any where rather than be in this strait?
——Strait! said the abbess.
Strait——said the novice; for terrour had struck their understandings——the one knew not what she said——the other what she answer’d.
O my virginity! virginity! cried the abbess.
——inity!——inity! said the novice, sobbing.
CHAP. XXIV
My dear mother, quoth the novice, coming a little to herself,——there are two certain words, which I have been told will force any horse, or ass, or mule, to go up a hill whether he will or no; be he never so obstinate or ill-will’d, the moment he hears them utter’d, he obeys. They are words magic! cried the abbess, in the utmost horrour—No; replied Margarita calmly—but they are words sinful—What are they? quoth the abbess, interrupting her: They are sinful in the first degree, answered Margarita,—they are mortal—and if we are ravish’d and die unabsolved of them, we shall both——but you may pronounce them