Part 21 (1/2)
'Tis made of fir-tree, said he, I smell the turpentine.-
There's a pimple on it, said she.
'Tis a dead nose, replied the inn-keeper.
'Tis a live nose, and if I am alive myself, said the inn-keeper's, wife, I will touch it.
I have made a vow to saint Nicolas this day, said the stranger, that my nose shall not be touched till-Here the stranger suspending his voice, looked up.-Till when? said she hastily.
It never shall be touched, said he, clasping his hands and bringing them close to his breast, till that hour-What hour? cried the inn keeper's wife.-Never!-never! said the stranger, never till I am got-For Heaven's sake, into what place? said she-The stranger rode away without saying a word.
The stranger had not got half a league on his way towards Frankfort before all the city of Strasburg was in an uproar about his nose. The Compline bells were just ringing to call the Strasburgers to their devotions, and shut up the duties of the day in prayer:-no soul in all Strasburg heard 'em-the city was like a swarm of bees-men, women, and children, (the Compline bells tinkling all the time) flying here and there-in at one door, out at another-this way and that way-long ways and cross ways-up one street, down another street-in at this alley, out of that-did you see it? did you see it? did you see it? O! did you see it?-who saw it? who did see it? for mercy's sake, who saw it?
Alack o'day! I was at vespers!-I was was.h.i.+ng, I was starching, I was scouring, I was quilting-G.o.d help me! I never saw it-I never touch'd it!-would I had been a centinel, a bandy-legg'd drummer, a trumpeter, a trumpeter's wife, was the general cry and lamentation in every street and corner of Strasburg.
Whilst all this confusion and disorder triumphed throughout the great city of Strasburg, was the courteous stranger going on as gently upon his mule in his way to Frankfort, as if he had no concern at all in the affair-talking all the way he rode in broken sentences, sometimes to his mule-sometimes to himself-sometimes to his Julia.
O Julia, my lovely Julia!-nay I cannot stop to let thee bite that thistle-that ever the suspected tongue of a rival should have robbed me of enjoyment when I was upon the point of tasting it.-
-Pugh!-'tis nothing but a thistle-never mind it-thou shalt have a better supper at night.
-Banish'd from my country-my friends-from thee.-
Poor devil, thou'rt sadly tired with thy journey!-come-get on a little faster-there's nothing in my cloak-bag but two s.h.i.+rts-a crimson-sattin pair of breeches, and a fringed-Dear Julia!
-But why to Frankfort?-is it that there is a hand unfelt, which secretly is conducting me through these meanders and unsuspected tracts?
-Stumbling! by saint Nicolas! every step-why at this rate we shall be all night in getting in-
-To happiness-or am I to be the sport of fortune and slander-destined to be driven forth unconvicted-unheard-untouch'd-if so, why did I not stay at Strasburg, where justice-but I had sworn! Come, thou shalt drink-to St. Nicolas-O Julia!-What dost thou p.r.i.c.k up thy ears at?-'tis nothing but a man, &c.
The stranger rode on communing in this manner with his mule and Julia-till he arrived at his inn, where, as soon as he arrived, he alighted-saw his mule, as he had promised it, taken good care of-took off his cloak-bag, with his crimson-sattin breeches, &c. in it-called for an omelet to his supper, went to his bed about twelve o'clock, and in five minutes fell fast asleep.
It was about the same hour when the tumult in Strasburg being abated for that night,-the Strasburgers had all got quietly into their beds-but not like the stranger, for the rest either of their minds or bodies; queen Mab, like an elf as she was, had taken the stranger's nose, and without reduction of its bulk, had that night been at the pains of slitting and dividing it into as many noses of different cuts and fas.h.i.+ons, as there were heads in Strasburg to hold them. The abbess of Quedlingberg, who with the four great dignitaries of her chapter, the prioress, the deaness, the sub-chantress, and senior canonness, had that week come to Strasburg to consult the university upon a case of conscience relating to their placket-holes-was ill all the night.
The courteous stranger's nose had got perched upon the top of the pineal gland of her brain, and made such rousing work in the fancies of the four great dignitaries of her chapter, they could not get a wink of sleep the whole night thro' for it-there was no keeping a limb still amongst them-in short, they got up like so many ghosts.
The penitentiaries of the third order of saint Francis-the nuns of mount Calvary-the Praemonstratenses-the Clunienses (Hafen Slawkenbergius means the Benedictine nuns of Cluny, founded in the year 940, by Odo, abbe de Cluny.)-the Carthusians, and all the severer orders of nuns, who lay that night in blankets or hair-cloth, were still in a worse condition than the abbess of Quedlingberg-by tumbling and tossing, and tossing and tumbling from one side of their beds to the other the whole night long-the several sisterhoods had scratch'd and maul'd themselves all to death-they got out of their beds almost flay'd alive-every body thought saint Antony had visited them for probation with his fire-they had never once, in short, shut their eyes the whole night long from vespers to matins.
The nuns of saint Ursula acted the wisest-they never attempted to go to bed at all.
The dean of Strasburg, the prebendaries, the capitulars and domiciliars (capitularly a.s.sembled in the morning to consider the case of b.u.t.ter'd buns) all wished they had followed the nuns of saint Ursula's example.-
In the hurry and confusion every thing had been in the night before, the bakers had all forgot to lay their leaven-there were no b.u.t.ter'd buns to be had for breakfast in all Strasburg-the whole close of the cathedral was in one eternal commotion-such a cause of restlessness and disquietude, and such a zealous inquiry into that cause of the restlessness, had never happened in Strasburg, since Martin Luther, with his doctrines, had turned the city upside down.
If the stranger's nose took this liberty of thrusting himself thus into the dishes (Mr. Shandy's compliments to orators-is very sensible that Slawkenbergius has here changed his metaphor-which he is very guilty of:-that as a translator, Mr. Shandy has all along done what he could to make him stick to it-but that here 'twas impossible.) of religious orders, &c. what a carnival did his nose make of it, in those of the laity!-'tis more than my pen, worn to the stump as it is, has power to describe; tho', I acknowledge, (cries Slawkenbergius with more gaiety of thought than I could have expected from him) that there is many a good simile now subsisting in the world which might give my countrymen some idea of it; but at the close of such a folio as this, wrote for their sakes, and in which I have spent the greatest part of my life-tho' I own to them the simile is in being, yet would it not be unreasonable in them to expect I should have either time or inclination to search for it? Let it suffice to say, that the riot and disorder it occasioned in the Strasburgers fantasies was so general-such an overpowering masters.h.i.+p had it got of all the faculties of the Strasburgers minds-so many strange things, with equal confidence on all sides, and with equal eloquence in all places, were spoken and sworn to concerning it, that turned the whole stream of all discourse and wonder towards it-every soul, good and bad-rich and poor-learned and unlearned-doctor and student-mistress and maid-gentle and simple-nun's flesh and woman's flesh, in Strasburg spent their time in hearing tidings about it-every eye in Strasburg languished to see it-every finger-every thumb in Strasburg burned to touch it.
Now what might add, if any thing may be thought necessary to add, to so vehement a desire-was this, that the centinel, the bandy-legg'd drummer, the trumpeter, the trumpeter's wife, the burgomaster's widow, the master of the inn, and the master of the inn's wife, how widely soever they all differed every one from another in their testimonies and description of the stranger's nose-they all agreed together in two points-namely, that he was gone to Frankfort, and would not return to Strasburg till that day month; and secondly, whether his nose was true or false, that the stranger himself was one of the most perfect paragons of beauty-the finest-made man-the most genteel!-the most generous of his purse-the most courteous in his carriage, that had ever entered the gates of Strasburg-that as he rode, with scymetar slung loosely to his wrist, thro' the streets-and walked with his crimson-sattin breeches across the parade-'twas with so sweet an air of careless modesty, and so manly withal-as would have put the heart in jeopardy (had his nose not stood in his way) of every virgin who had cast her eyes upon him.
I call not upon that heart which is a stranger to the throbs and yearnings of curiosity, so excited, to justify the abbess of Quedlingberg, the prioress, the deaness, and sub-chantress, for sending at noon-day for the trumpeter's wife: she went through the streets of Strasburg with her husband's trumpet in her hand,-the best apparatus the straitness of the time would allow her, for the ill.u.s.tration of her theory-she staid no longer than three days.