书城公版The Life of Francis Marion
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第322章 Chapter XLIX.

An eye is for all the world exactly like a cannon, in this respect; That it is not so much the eye or the cannon, in themselves, as it is the carriage of the eye--and the carriage of the cannon, by which both the one and the other are enabled to do so much execution. I don't think the comparison a bad one: However, as 'tis made and placed at the head of the chapter, as much for use as ornament, all I desire in return, is, that whenever I speak of Mrs. Wadman's eyes (except once in the next period), that you keep it in your fancy.

I protest, Madam, said my uncle Toby, I can see nothing whatever in your eye.

It is not in the white; said Mrs Wadman: my uncle Toby look'd with might and main into the pupil--Now of all the eyes which ever were created--from your own, Madam, up to those of Venus herself, which certainly were as venereal a pair of eyes as ever stood in a head--there never was an eye of them all, so fitted to rob my uncle Toby of his repose, as the very eye, at which he was looking--it was not, Madam a rolling eye--a romping or a wanton one--nor was it an eye sparkling--petulant or imperious--of high claims and terrifying exactions, which would have curdled at once that milk of human nature, of which my uncle Toby was made up--but 'twas an eye full of gentle salutations--and soft responses--speaking--not like the trumpet stop of some ill-made organ, in which many an eye I talk to, holds coarse converse--but whispering soft--like the last low accent of an expiring saint--'How can you live comfortless, captain Shandy, and alone, without a bosom to lean your head on--or trust your cares to?'

It was an eye--

But I shall be in love with it myself, if I say another word about it.

--It did my uncle Toby's business.