it upon unworthy views; or that in wishing for war, he should be bad enough to wish more of his fellow-creatures slain,—more slaves made, and more families driven from their peaceful habitations, merely for his own pleasure:⸺Tell me, brother Shandy , upon what one deed of mine do you ground it? [ The devil a deed do I know of, dear Toby , but one for a hundred pounds, which I lent thee to carry on these cursed sieges. ]
If, when I was a schoolboy, I could not hear a drum beat, but my heart beat with it—was it my fault? Did I plant the propensity there?⸺Did I sound the alarm within, or Nature?
When Guy , Earl of Warwick , and Parismus and Parismenus , and Valentine and Orson , and the Seven Champions of England , were handed around the school,—were they not all purchased with my own pocket-money? Was that selfish, brother Shandy? When we read over the siege of Troy , which lasted ten years and eight months,⸺though with such a train of artillery as we had at Namur , the town might have been carried in a week—was I not as much concerned for the destruction of the Greeks and Trojans as any boy of the whole school? Had I not three strokes of a ferula given me, two on my right hand, and one on my left, for calling Helena a bitch for it? Did any one of you shed more tears for Hector? And when king Priam came to the camp to beg his body, and returned weeping back to Troy without it,—you know, brother, I could not eat my dinner.⸻
⸺Did that bespeak me cruel? Or because, brother Shandy , my blood flew out into the camp, and my heart panted for war,—was it a proof it could not ache for the distresses of war too?
O brother! ’tis one thing for a soldier to gather laurels,—and ’tis another to scatter cypress.⸺[ Who told thee, my dear Toby , that cypress was used by the ancients on mournful occasions? ]