itself of these blows—but then, by heaven! you have paid but for a single post—whereas ’tis a post and a half; and this obliges you to pull out your book of post-roads, the print of which is so very small, it forces you to open your eyes, whether you will or no: Then Monsieur le Curé offers you a pinch of snuff⸺or a poor soldier shows you his leg⸺or a shaveling his box⸺or the priestess of the cistern will water your wheels⸺they do not want it⸺but she swears by her priesthood (throwing it back) that they do:⸺then you have all these points to argue, or consider over in your mind; in doing of which, the rational powers get so thoroughly awakened⸺you may get ’em to sleep again as you can.
It was entirely owing to one of these misfortunes, or I had pass’d clean by the stables of Chantilly ⸺
⸺But the postilion first affirming, and then persisting in it to my face, that there was no mark upon the two sous piece, I open’d my eyes to be convinced—and seeing the mark upon it as plain as my nose—I leap’d out of the chaise in a passion, and so saw everything at Chantilly in spite.⸺I tried it but for three posts and a half, but believe ’tis the best principle in the world to travel speedily upon; for as few objects look very inviting in that mood—you have little or nothing to stop you; by which means it was that I passed through St. Dennis , without turning my head so much as on one side towards the Abby⸺
⸺Richness of their treasury! stuff and nonsense!⸺bating their jewels, which are all false, I would not give three sous for any one thing in it, but Jaidas’s lantern ⸺nor for that either, only as it grows dark, it might be of use.