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Complete Works of Laurence Sterne

Page 104

by Laurence Sterne


  Yours, L. STERNE.

  LETTER XXIII. TO THE SAME.

  Paris, — 31, 1762.

  My Dear,

  THERE have no mails arrived here ‘till this morning, for three posts, so I expected with great impatience a letter from you and Lydia — and lo! it is arrived. You are as busy as Throp’s wife, and by the time you receive this, you will be busier still — I have exhausted all my ideas about your journey — and what is needful for you to do before and during it — so I write only to tell you I am well — Mr. Colebrooks, the minister of Swisserland’s secretary, I got this morning to write a letter for you to the governor of the Custom-House-Office, at Calais — it shall be sent you next post. — You must be cautious about Scotch snuff — take half a pound in your pocket, and make Lyd do the same. ’Tis well I bought you a chaise — there is no getting one in Paris now, but at an enormous price — for they are all sent to the army, and such a one as yours we have not been able to match for forty guineas; for a friend of mine who is going from hence to Italy — the weather was never known to set in so hot, as it has done the latter end of this month, so he and his party are to get into his chaises by four in the morning, and travel ‘till nine — and not stir out again till six; but I hope this severe heat will abate by the time you come here — however I beg of you once more to take special care of heating your blood in travelling and come tout doucement, when you find the heat too much — I shall look impatiently for intelligence from you, and hope to hear all goes well; that you conquer all difficulties, that you have received your pass-port, my picture, &c. Write and tell me something of every thing. I long to see you both, you may be assured, my dear wife and child, after so long a separation — and write me a line directly, that I may have all the notice you can give me, that I may have apartments ready and fit for you when you arrive. — For my own part I shall continue writing to you a fortnight longer — present my respects to all friends — you have bid Mr. C. get my visitations at P. done for me, &c. &c. If any offers are made about the inclosure at Rascal, they must be enclosed to me — nothing that is fairly proposed shall stand still on my score. Do all for the best, as He who guides all things, will I hope do for us — so heav’n preserve you both — believe me

  Your affectionate L. STERNE.

  Love to my Lydia — I have bought her a gold watch to present to her when she comes.

  LETTER XXIV. TO THE SAME.

  Paris, — 1762.

  My Dear,

  I KEEP my promise and write to you again — I am sorry the bureau must be open’d for the deeds — but you will see it done — I imagine you are convinced of the necessity of bringing three hundred pounds in your pocket — if you consider, Lydia must have two slight negligees — you will want a new gown or two — as for painted linens buy them in town, they will be more admired because English than French. — Mrs. H. writes me word that I am mistaken about buying silk cheaper at Toulouse, than Paris, that she advises you to buy what you want here — where they are very beautiful and cheap, as well as blonds, gauzes, &c. — these I say will all cost you sixty guineas — and you must have them — for in this country nothing must be spared for the back — and if you dine on an onion, and lay in a garret seven stories high, you must not betray it in your cloaths, according to which you are well or ill look’d on. When we are got to Toulouse, we must begin to turn the penny, and we may, (if you do not game much) live very cheap — I think that expression will divert you — and now God knows I have not a wish but for your health, comfort, and safe arrival here — write to me every other post, that I may know how you go on — you will be in raptures with your chariot — Mr. R. a gentleman of fortune, who is going to Italy, and has seen it, has offered me thirty guineas for my bargain. — You will wonder all the way, how I am to find room in it for a third — to ease you of this wonder, ’tis by what the coach-makers here call a cave, which is a second bottom added to that you set your feet upon which lets the person (who sits over-against you) down with his knees to your ancles, and by which you have all more room — and what is more, less heat — because his head does not intercept the sore-glass little or nothing — Lyd and I will enjoy this by turns; sometimes I shall take a bidet — (a little post horse) and scamper before — at other times I shall sit in fresco upon the arm-chair without doors, and one way or other will do very well. — I am under infinite obligations to Mr. Thornhil, for accommodating me thus, and so genteely, for ’tis like making a present of it. — Mr. T — will send you an order to receive it at Calais — and now, my dear girls, have I forgot any thing?

  Adieu, adieu!

  Yours most affectionately, L. STERNE.

  A week or ten days will enable you to see every thing — and so long you must stay to rest your bones.

  LETTER XXV. TO THE SAME.

  Paris, June 14, 1762.

  My dearest,

  HAVING an opportunity of writing by a friend who is setting out this morning for London, I write again, in case the two last letters I have wrote this week to you should be be detained by contrary winds at Calais — I have wrote to Mr. E — , by the same hand, to thank him for his kindness to you in the handsomest manner I could — and have told him, his good heart, and his wife’s, have made them overlook the trouble of having you at his house, but that if he takes you apartments near him they will have occasion still enough left to shew their friendship to us — I have begged him to assist you, and stand by you as if he was in my place with regard to the sale of the Shandys — and then the copy-right — Mark to keep these things distinct in your head — but Becket I have ever found to be a man of probity, and I dare say you will have very little trouble in finishing matters with him — and I would rather wish you to treat with him than with another man — but whoever buys the fifth and sixth volumes of Shandy’s, must have the nay-say of the seventh and eighth. — I wish, when you come here, in case the weather is too hot to travel, you could think it pleasant to go to the Spaw for four or six weeks, where we should live for half the money we should spend at Paris — after that we should take the sweetest season of the vintage to go to the south of France — but we will put our heads together, and you shall just do as you please in this, and in every thing which depends on me — for I am a being perfectly contented, when others are pleased — to bear and forbear will ever be my maxim — only I fear the heats through a journey of five hundred miles for you, and my Lydia, more than for myself. — Do not forget the watch chains — bring a couple for a gentleman’s watch likewise, we shall lie under great obligations to the Abbé M. and must make him such a small acknowledgement; according to my way of flourishing, ‘twill be a present worth a kingdom to him — They have bad pins, and vile needles here — bring for yourself, and some for presents — as also a strong bottle-skrew, for whatever Scrub we may hire as butler, coachman, &c. to uncork us our Frontiniac — You will find a letter for you at the Lyon D’Argent — Send for your chaise into the court-yard, and see all is tight — Buy a chain at Calais strong enough not to be cut off, and let your portmanteau be tied on the forepart of your chaise for fear of a dog’s trick — so God bless you both, and remember me to my Lydia,

  I am yours affectionately, L. STERNE.

  LETTER XXVI. TO THE SAME.

  Paris, June, 1762.

  My dearest,

  PROBABLY you will receive another letter with this, by the same post, if so read this the last — It will be the last you can possibly receive at York, for I hope it will catch you just as you are upon the wing — if that should happen, I suppose in course you have executed the contents of it, in all things which relate to pecuniary matters, and when these are settled to your mind, you will have got thro’ your last difficulty — every thing else will be a step of pleasure, and by the time you have got half a dozen stages you will set up your pipes and sing Te Deum together, as you whisk it along. — Desire Mr. C — to send me a proper letter of attorney by you, he will receive it back by return of post. You have done every thing well with regard to o
ur Sutton and Stillington affairs, and left things in the best channel — if I was not sure you must have long since got my picture, garnets, &c. I would write and scold Mr. T — abominably — he put them in Becket’s hands to be forwarded by the stage coach to you as soon as he got to town. — I long to hear from you, and that all my letters and things are come safe to you, and then you will say that I have not been a bad lad — for you will find I have been writing continually as I wished you to do — Bring your silver coffee-pot, ‘twill serve both to give water, lemonade, and orjead — to say nothing of coffee and chocolate, which, by the bye, is both cheap and good at Toulouse, like other things — I had like to have forgot a most necessary thing, there are no copper tea-kettles to be had in France, and we shall find such a thing the most comfortable utensil in the house — buy a good strong one, which will hold two quarts — a dish of tea will be of comfort to us in our journey south — I have a bronze tea-pot, which we will carry also, as China cannot be brought over from England, we must make up a villainous party-coloured tea equipage to regale ourselves, and our English friends whilst we are at Toulouse — I hope you have got your bill from Becket. — There is a good natured kind of a trader I have just heard of, at Mr. Foley’s, who they think will be coming off from England to France, with horses, the latter end of June. He happened to come over with a lady, who is sister to Mr. Foley’s partner, and I have got her to write a letter to him in London, this post, to beg he will seek you out at Mr. E— ‘s, and in case a cartel ship does not go off before he goes, to take you under his care. He was infinitely friendly in the same office last year to the lady who now writes to him, and nursed her on ship-board, and defended her by land with great goodwill. — Do not say I forget you, or whatever can be conducive to your ease of mind, in this journey — I wish I was with you to do these offices myself, and to strew roses on your way — but I shall have time and occasion to shew you I am not wanting — Now, my dears, once more pluck up your spirits — trust in God — in me — and in yourselves — with this, was you put to it, you would encounter all these difficulties ten times told — Write instantly, and tell me you triumph over all fears; tell me Lydia is better, and a helpmate to you — You say she grows like me — let her shew me she does so in her comtempt of small dangers, and fighting against the apprehensions of them, which is better still. As I will not have F.’s share of the books, you will inform him so — Give my love to Mr. Fothergill, and to those true friends which Envy has spared me — and for the rest, laissés passer — You will find I speak French tolerably — but I only wish to be understood. — You will soon speak better; a month’s play with a French Demoiselle will make Lyd chatter it like a magpye. Mrs. — understood not a word of it when she got here, and writes me word she begins to prate a pace — you will do the same in a fortnight — Dear Bess, I have a thousand wishes, but have a hope for every one of them — You shall chant the same jubilate, my dears, so God bless you. My duty to Lydia, which implies my love too. Adieu, believe me

  Your affectionate, L. STERNE.

  Memorandum: Bring watch-chains, tea-kettle, knives, cookery book, &c.

  You will smile at this last article — so adieu — At Dover the Cross Keys, at Calais at the Lyon D’Argent — the master a Turk in grain.

  VOLUME II

  LETTER XXVII. TO LADY D.

  Paris, July 9, 1762.

  I Will not send your ladyship the trifles you bid me purchase without a line. I am very well pleased with Paris — indeed I meet with so many civilities amongst the people here that I must sing their praises — the French have a great deal of urbanity in their composition, and to stay a little time amongst them will be agreeable. — I splutter French so as to be understood — but I have had a droll adventure here in which my Latin was of some service to me — I had hired a chaise and a horse to go about seven miles into the country, but, Shandean like, did not take notice that the horse was almost dead when I took him — Before I got half way the poor animal dropp’d down dead — so I was forced to appear before the Police, and began to tell my story in French, which was, that the poor beast had to do with a worse beast than himself, namely his master, who had driven him all the day before (Jehu like) and that he had neither had corn, or hay, therefore I was not to pay for the horse — but I might as well have whistled, as have spoke French, and I believe my Latin was equal to my uncle Toby’s Lilabulero — being not understood because of it’s purity, but by dint of words I forced my judge to do me justice — no common thing by the way in France. — My wife and daughter are arrived — the latter does nothing but look out of the window, and complain of the torment of being frizled. — I wish she may ever remain a child of nature — I hate children of art.

  I hope this will find your ladyship well — and that you will be kind enough to direct to me at Toulouse, which place I shall set out for very soon. I am, with truth and sincerity,

  Your Ladyship’s Most faithful, L. STERNE.

  LETTER XXVIII. TO MR. E.

  Paris, July 12, 1762.

  Dear Sir,

  MY wife and daughter arrived here safe and sound on Thursday, and are in high raptures with the speed and pleasantness of their journey, and particularly of all they see and meet with here. But in their journey from York to Paris, nothing has given them a more sensible and lasting pleasure, than the marks of kindness they received from you and Mrs. E. — The friendship, good will and politeness of my two friends I never doubted to me, or mine, and I return you both all a grateful man is capable of, which is merely my thanks. I have taken however the liberty of sending an Indian taffety, which Mrs. E. must do me the honour to wear for my wife’s sake, who would have got it made up, but that Mr. Stanhope, the Consul of Algiers, who sets off tomorrow morning for London, has been so kind (I mean his lady) as to take charge of it; and we had but just time to procure it: and had we miss’d that opportunity, as we should have been obliged to have left it behind us at Paris, we knew not when or how to get it to our friend. — I wish it had been better worth a paragraph. If there is any thing we can buy or procure for you here, (intelligence included) you have a right to command me — for I am yours, with my wife and girl’s kind love to you and Mrs. E.

  LAU. STERNE.

  LETTER XXIX. TO T. H. S. ESQ.

  Toulouse, August 12, 1762.

  My dear H.

  BY the time you have got to the end of this long letter you will perceive that I have not been able to answer your last ‘till now — I have had the intention of doing it almost as often as my prayers in my head— ’tis thus we use our best friends — what an infamous story is that you have told me! — After some little remarks on it the rest of my letter will go on like silk. **** — is a good natured old easy fool and has been deceived by the most artful of her sex, and she must have abundance of impudence and charlatanery to have carried on such a farce. I pity the old man for being taken in for so much money — a man of sense I should have laughed at — My wife saw her when in town, and she had not the appearance of poverty, but when she wants to melt **** heart she puts her gold watch and diamond rings in her drawer. — But he might have been aware of her. I could not have been mistaken in her character — and ’tis odd she should talk of her wealth to one, and tell another the reverse — so good night to her. — About a week or ten days before my wife arrived at Paris I had the same accident I had at Cambridge, of breaking a vessel in my lungs. It happen’d in the night, and I bled the bed full, and finding in the morning I was likely to bleed to death, I sent immediately for a surgeon to bleed me at both arms — this saved me, and with lying speechless three days I recovered upon my back in bed; the breach healed, and in a week after I got out — This with my weakness and hurrying about made me think it high time to haste to Toulouse. — We have had four months of such heats that the oldest Frenchman never remembers the like— ’twas as hot as Nebuchadnezzar’s oven, and never has relaxed one hour — in the height of this ’twas our destiny (or rather destruction) to set out by way of Lyons, Mo
ntpellier, &c. to shorten, I trow, our sufferings — Good God! — but tis over — and here I am in my own house, quite settled by M....’s aid, and good-natured offices, for which I owe him more than I can express or know how to pay at present— ’Tis in the prettiest situation in Toulouse, with near two acres of garden — the house too good by half for us — well furnished, for which I pay thirty pounds a year. — I have got a good cook — my wife a decent femme de chambre, and a good looking laquais — The Abbé has planned our expences, and set us in such a train, we cannot easily go wrong — tho’ by the bye the D — is seldom found sleeping under a hedge. Mr. Trotter dined with me the day before I left Paris — I took care to see all executed according to your directions — but Trotter, I dare say, by this has wrote to you — I made him happy beyond expression with your crazy tales, and more so with its frontispiece. — I am in spirits, writing a crazy chapter — with my face turned towards thy turret— ’Tis now I wish all warmer climates, countries, and every thing else at — that separates me from our paternal seat — ce sera là où reposera ma cendre — et ce sera là où mon cousin viendra repondreles pleurs dues à notre amitié. — I am taking asses milk three times a day, and cows milk as often — I long to see thy face again once more — greet the Col. kindly in my name, and thank him cordially from me for his many civilities to Madame and Mademoiselle Shandy at York, who send all due acknowledgments. The humour is over for France, and Frenchmen, but that is not enough for your affectionate cousin, L. S.

 

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