l I can say is, that female writers, whether of
England, or of France, must e'en go without it--

As for the Spanish ladies--I am in no sort of distress--

Chapter 4.LXXIV.

The seventy-fourth chapter is come at last; and brings nothing with it
but a sad signature of 'How our pleasures slip from under us in this
world!'

For in talking of my digression--I declare before heaven I have made it!
What a strange creature is mortal man! said she.

'Tis very true, said I--but 'twere better to get all these things out of
our heads, and return to my uncle Toby.

Chapter 4.LXXV.

When my uncle Toby and the corporal had marched down to the bottom of
the avenue, they recollected their business lay the other way; so they
faced about and marched up straight to Mrs. Wadman's door.

I warrant your honour; said the corporal, touching his Montero-cap with
his hand, as he passed him in order to give a knock at the door--My
uncle Toby, contrary to his invariable way of treating his faithful
servant, said nothing good or bad: the truth was, he had not altogether
marshal'd his ideas; he wish'd for another conference, and as the
corporal was mounting up the three steps before the door--he hem'd
twice--a portion of my uncle Toby's most modest spirits fled, at each
expulsion, towards the corporal; he stood with the rapper of the door
suspended for a full minute in his hand, he scarce knew why. Bridget
stood perdue within, with her finger and her thumb upon the latch,
benumb'd with expectation; and Mrs. Wadman, with an eye ready to be
deflowered again, sat breathless behind the window-curtain of her
bed-chamber, watching their approach.

Trim! said my uncle Toby--but as he articulated the word, the minute
expired, and Trim let fall the rapper.

My uncle Toby perceiving that all hopes of a conference were knock'd on
the head by it--whistled Lillabullero.

Chapter 4.LXXVI.

As Mrs. Bridget's finger and thumb were upon the latch, the corporal did
not knock as often as perchance your honour's taylor--I might have taken
my example something nearer home; for I owe mine, some five and twenty
pounds at least, and wonder at the man's patience--

--But this is nothing at all to the world: only 'tis a cursed thing to
be in debt; and there seems to be a fatality in the exchequers of some
poor princes, particularly those of our house, which no Economy can
bind down in irons: for my own part, I'm persuaded there is not any one
pri