Sancho Pança, when he lost his ass’s FURNITURE, did not exclaim more bitterly.
[ CHAPTER XXXVII]
When the first transport was over, and the registers of the brain were beginning to get a little out of the confusion into which this jumble of cross accidents had cast them—it then presently occurr’d to me, that I had left my remarks in the pocket of the chaise—and that in selling my chaise, I had sold my remarks along with it, to the chaise-vamper.
I leave this void space that the reader may swear into it any oath that he is most accustomed to——For my own part, if ever I swore a whole oath into a vacancy in my life, I think it was into that——*********, said I—and so my remarks through France, which were as full of wit, as an egg is full of meat, and as well worth four hundred guineas, as the said egg is worth a penny—have I been selling here to a chaise-vamper—for four Louis d’Ors—and giving him a post-chaise (by heaven) worth six into the bargain; had it been to Dodsley, or Becket, or any creditable bookseller, who was either leaving off business, and wanted a post-chaise—or who was beginning it—and wanted my remarks, and two or three guineas along with them—I could have borne it——but to a chaise-vamper!—shew me to him this moment, François,—said I—The valet de place put on his hat, and led the way—and I pull’d off mine, as I pass’d the commissary, and followed him.
[ CHAPTER XXXVIII]
When we arrived at the Chaise-vamper’s House, Both the House and the shop were shut up; it was the eighth of September, the nativity of the blessed Virgin Mary, mother of God—
——Tantarra-ra-tan-tivi——the whole world was gone out a May-poling—frisking here—capering there——nobody cared a button for me or my remarks; so I sat me down upon a bench by the door, philosophating upon my condition: by a better fate than usually attends me, I had not waited half an hour, when the mistress came in to take the papilliotes from off her hair, before she went to the May-poles——
The French women, by the bye, love May-poles, à la folie—that is, as much as their matins——give ’em but a May-pole, whether in May, June, July, or September—they never count the times——down it goes——’tis meat, drink, washing, and lodging to ’em——and had we but the policy, an’ please your worships (as wood is a little scarce in France), to send them but plenty of May-poles——
The women would set them up; and when they had done, they would dance round them (and the men for company) till they were all blind.