Then, an’ please your honour, said the corporal (making a bow first for his commission)—we will begin with getting your honour’s laced cloaths out of the great campaign-trunk, to be well air’d, and have the blue and gold taken up at the sleeves—and I’ll put your white ramallie-wig fresh into pipes—and send for a taylor, to have your honour’s thin scarlet breeches turn’d——
—I had better take the red plush ones, quoth my uncle Toby——They will be too clumsy—said the corporal.
[ CHAPTER XXIX]
——Thou wilt get a brush and a little chalk to my sword——’Twill be only in your honour’s way, replied Trim.
[ CHAPTER XXX]
——But your honour’s two razors shall be new set—and I will get my Montero-cap furbish’d up, and put on poor lieutenant Le Fever’s regimental coat, which your honour gave me to wear for his sake—and as soon as your honour is clean shaved—and has got your clean shirt on, with your blue and gold, or your fine scarlet——sometimes one and sometimes t’other—and everything is ready for the attack—we’ll march up boldly, as if ’twas to the face of a bastion; and whilst your honour engages Mrs. Wadman in the parlour, to the right——I’ll attack Mrs. Bridget in the kitchen, to the left; and having seiz’d the pass, I’ll answer for it, said the corporal, snapping his fingers over his head—that the day is our own.
I wish I may but manage it right; said my uncle Toby—but I declare, corporal, I had rather march up to the very edge of a trench——
—A woman is quite a different thing—said the corporal.
—I suppose so, quoth my uncle Toby.