A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy by Laurence Sterne
page 22 of 148 (14%)
page 22 of 148 (14%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
offence to any.
I knew not that contention could be rendered so sweet and pleasurable a thing to the nerves as I then felt it.--We remained silent, without any sensation of that foolish pain which takes place, when, in such a circle, you look for ten minutes in one another's faces without saying a word. Whilst this lasted, the monk rubbed his horn box upon the sleeve of his tunic; and as soon as it had acquired a little air of brightness by the friction--he made me a low bow, and said, 'twas too late to say whether it was the weakness or goodness of our tempers which had involved us in this contest--but be it as it would,--he begg'd we might exchange boxes.--In saying this, he presented his to me with one hand, as he took mine from me in the other, and having kissed it,--with a stream of good nature in his eyes, he put it into his bosom,--and took his leave. I guard this box, as I would the instrumental parts of my religion, to help my mind on to something better: in truth, I seldom go abroad without it; and oft and many a time have I called up by it the courteous spirit of its owner to regulate my own, in the justlings of the world: they had found full employment for his, as I learnt from his story, till about the forty-fifth year of his age, when upon some military services ill requited, and meeting at the same time with a disappointment in the tenderest of passions, he abandoned the sword and the sex together, and took sanctuary not so much in his convent as in himself. I feel a damp upon my spirits, as I am going to add, that in my last return through Calais, upon enquiring after Father Lorenzo, I |
|