[135]
—Still we could have done.—Fool, coxcomb, puppy—give him but a nose—Cripple, Dwarf, Driviller, Goosecap—(shape him as you will) the door of Fortune stands open—O Licetus! Licetus! had I been blest with a foetus five inches long and a half, like thee—fate might have done her worst.
Still, brother Toby, there was one cast of the dye left for our child after all—O Tristram! Tristram! Tristram!
We will send for Mr. Yorick, said my uncle Toby.
—You may send for whom you will, replied my father.
CHAP.
