——Only, an’ please your honour, it makes a story look the better in the
face——
——’Tis thy own, _Trim_, so ornament it after thy own fashion; and take
any date, continued my uncle _Toby_, looking pleasantly upon him—take
any date in the whole world thou chusest, and put it to—thou art
heartily welcome——
The corporal bowed; for of every century, and of every year of that
century, from the first creation of the world down to _Noah_’s flood;
and from _Noah_’s flood to the birth of _Abraham;_ through all the
pilgrimages of the patriarchs, to the departure of the _Israelites_ out
of _Egypt_——and throughout all the Dynasties, Olympiads, Urbeconditas,
and other memorable epochas of the different nations of the world, down
to the coming of Christ, and from thence to the very moment in which
the corporal was telling his story——had my uncle _Toby_ subjected this
vast empire of time and all its abysses at his feet; but as MODESTY
scarce touches with a finger what LIBERALITY offers her with both hands
open—the corporal contented himself with the very _worst year_ of the
whole bunch; which, to prevent your honours of the Majority and
Minority from tearing the very flesh off your bones in contestation, ‘
Whether that year is not always the last cast-year of the last
cast-almanack’——I tell you plainly it was; but from a different reason
than you wot of——
——It was the year next him——which being the year of our Lord seventeen
hundred and twelve, when the Duke of _Ormond_ was playing the devil in
_Flanders_——the corporal took it, and set out with it afresh on his
expedition to _Bohemia._
THE STORY OF THE
KING OF BOHEMIA AND
HIS SEVEN CASTLES,
CONTINUED
IN the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and twelve, there
was, an’ please your honour——
—To tell thee truly, _Trim_, quoth my uncle _Toby_, any other date
would have pleased me much better, not only on account of the sad stain
upon our history that year, in marching off our troops, and refusing to
cover the siege of _Quesnoi_, though _Fagel_ was carrying on the works
with such incredible vigour—but likewise on the score, _Trim_, of thy
own story; because if there are—and which, from what thou hast dropt, I
partly suspect to be the fact—if there are giants in it——