they, Tristram, not sufficient, but
thou must entangle thyself still more?

Is it not enough that thou art in debt, and that thou hast ten
cart-loads of thy fifth and sixth volumes (Alluding to the first
edition.) still--still unsold, and art almost at thy wit's ends, how to
get them off thy hands?

To this hour art thou not tormented with the vile asthma that thou
gattest in skating against the wind in Flanders? and is it but two
months ago, that in a fit of laughter, on seeing a cardinal make water
like a quirister (with both hands) thou brakest a vessel in thy lungs,
whereby, in two hours, thou lost as many quarts of blood; and hadst thou
lost as much more, did not the faculty tell thee--it would have amounted
to a gallon?--

Chapter 4.XXXI.

--But for heaven's sake, let us not talk of quarts or gallons--let us
take the story straight before us; it is so nice and intricate a one, it
will scarce bear the transposition of a single tittle; and, somehow or
other, you have got me thrust almost into the middle of it--

--I beg we may take more care.

Chapter 4.XXXII.

My uncle Toby and the corporal had posted down with so much heat and
precipitation, to take possession of the spot of ground we have so often
spoke of, in order to open their campaign as early as the rest of the
allies; that they had forgot one of the most necessary articles of the
whole affair, it was neither a pioneer's spade, a pickax, or a shovel--

--It was a bed to lie on: so that as Shandy-Hall was at that time
unfurnished; and the little inn where poor Le Fever died, not yet built;
my uncle Toby was constrained to accept of a bed at Mrs. Wadman's, for
a night or two, till corporal Trim (who to the character of an excellent
valet, groom, cook, sempster, surgeon, and engineer, super-added that of
an excellent upholsterer too), with the help of a carpenter and a couple
of taylors, constructed one in my uncle Toby's house.

A daughter of Eve, for such was widow Wadman, and 'tis all the character
I intend to give of her--

--'That she was a perfect woman--' had better be fifty leagues off--or
in her warm bed--or playing with a case-knife--or any thing you
please--than make a man the object of her attention, when the house and
all the furniture is her own.

There is nothing in it out of doors and in broad day-light, where a
woman has a power, physically speaking, of viewing a man in more lights
than one--but here, for her soul, she can