⸺She has gain’d her point.
In this case, continued my father, which Plato , I am persuaded, never thought of⸺Love, you see, is not so much a Sentiment as a Situation , into which a man enters, as my brother Toby would do, into a corps⸺no matter whether he loves the service or no⸺being once in it—he acts as if he did; and takes every step to show himself a man of prowesse.
The hypothesis, like the rest of my father’s, was plausible enough, and my uncle Toby had but a single word to object to it—in which Trim stood ready to second him⸺but my father had not drawn his conclusion⸺
For this reason, continued my father (stating the case over again)—notwithstanding all the world knows, that Mrs. Wadman affects my brother Toby —and my brother Toby contrariwise affects Mrs. Wadman , and no obstacle in nature to forbid the music striking up this very night, yet will I answer for it, that this selfsame tune will not be play’d this twelvemonth.
We have taken our measures badly, quoth my uncle Toby , looking up interrogatively in Trim’s face.
I would lay my Montero -cap, said Trim ⸺Now Trim’s Montero -cap, as I once told you, was his constant wager; and having furbish’d it up that very night, in order to go upon the attack—it made the odds look more considerable⸺I would lay, an’ please your honour, my Montero -cap to a shilling—was it proper, continued Trim (making a bow), to offer a wager before your honours⸺
⸺There is nothing improper in it, said my father—’tis a mode of expression; for in saying thou would’st lay thy Montero -cap to a shilling—all thou meanest is this—that thou believest—