A Sentimental Journey Through France And Italy By Laurence Sterne

































































































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Grant me, O ye powers which touch the tongue with eloquence in
distress! - what ever is my CAST, grant me - Page 43
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- Grant Me, O Ye Powers Which Touch The Tongue With Eloquence In Distress!

- What ever is my CAST, grant me but decent words to exclaim in, and I will give my nature way.

- But as these were not to be had in France, I resolved to take every evil just as it befell me, without any exclamation at all.

La Fleur, who had made no such covenant with himself, followed the bidet with his eyes till it was got out of sight, - and then, you may imagine, if you please, with what word he closed the whole affair.

As there was no hunting down a frightened horse in jack-boots, there remained no alternative but taking La Fleur either behind the chaise, or into it. -

I preferred the latter, and in half an hour we got to the post- house at Nampont.

NAMPONT. THE DEAD ASS.

- And this, said he, putting the remains of a crust into his wallet - and this should have been thy portion, said he, hadst thou been alive to have shared it with me. - I thought, by the accent, it had been an apostrophe to his child; but 'twas to his ass, and to the very ass we had seen dead in the road, which had occasioned La Fleur's misadventure. The man seemed to lament it much; and it instantly brought into my mind Sancho's lamentation for his; but he did it with more true touches of nature.

The mourner was sitting upon a stone bench at the door, with the ass's pannel and its bridle on one side, which he took up from time to time, - then laid them down, - look'd at them, and shook his head. He then took his crust of bread out of his wallet again, as if to eat it; held it some time in his hand, - then laid it upon the bit of his ass's bridle, - looked wistfully at the little arrangement he had made - and then gave a sigh.

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