⸺⁠But ’tis no marvel, continued the corporal⁠—seeing my uncle Toby musing upon it⁠—for Love, an’ please your honour, is exactly like war, in this; that a soldier, though he has escaped three weeks complete o’ Saturday night,⁠—may nevertheless be shot through his heart on Sunday morning⁠⸺⁠It happened so here, an’ please your honour, with this difference only⁠—that it was on Sunday in the afternoon, when I fell in love all at once with a sisserara⁠⸺⁠It burst upon me, an’ please your honour, like a bomb⁠⸺⁠scarce giving me time to say, “God bless me.”

I thought, Trim, said my uncle Toby, a man never fell in love so very suddenly.

Yes, an’ please your honour, if he is in the way of it⁠⸺⁠replied Trim.

I prithee, quoth my uncle Toby, inform me how this matter happened.

⸺⁠With all pleasure, said the corporal, making a bow.