I would have given a crown to have it sew’d up—_Nannette_ would not
have given a sous—_Viva la joia!_ was in her lips—_Viva la joia!_ was
in her eyes. A transient spark of amity shot across the space betwixt
us——She look’d amiable!——Why could I not live, and end my days thus?
Just Disposer of our joys and sorrows, cried I, why could not a man sit
down in the lap of content here——and dance, and sing, and say his
prayers, and go to heaven with this nut-brown maid? Capriciously did
she bend her head on one side, and dance up insidious——Then ’tis time
to dance off, quoth I; so changing only partners and tunes, I danced it
away from _Lunel_ to _Montpellier_——from thence to _Pesçnas,
Beziers_——I danced it along through _Narbonne, Carcasson_, and _Castle
Naudairy_, till at last I danced myself into _Perdrillo_’s pavillion,
where pulling out a paper of black lines, that I might go on straight
forwards, without digression or parenthesis, in my uncle _Toby_’s
amours——