------To us, _Jonathan_, who know not what want or care is--who live here in the service of two of the best of masters--(bating in my own case his majesty King _William_ the Third, whom I had the honour to serve both in _Ireland_ and _Flanders_) --I own it, that from _Whitsontide_ to within three weeks of _Christmas_, --'tis not long--'tis like nothing; --but to those, _Jonathan_, who know what death is, and what havock and destruction he can make, before a man can well wheel about--'tis like a whole age. --O _Jonathan!_ 'twould make a good-natured man's heart bleed, to consider, continued the corporal (standing perpendicularly), how low many a brave and upright fellow has been laid since that time! --And trust me, _Susy_, added the corporal, turning to _Susannah_, whose eyes were swimming in water, --before that time comes round again, --many a bright eye will be dim. --_Susannah_ placed it to the right side of the page--she wept--but she court'sied too. --Are we not, continued _Trim_, looking still at _Susannah_ --are we not like a flower of the field--a tear of pride stole in betwixt every two tears of humiliation--else no tongue could have described _Susannah's_ affliction--is not all flesh grass? --'Tis clay, --'tis dirt. --They all looked directly at the scullion, --the scullion had just been scouring a fish-kettle. --It was not fair.----
--What is the finest face that ever man looked at! --I could hear _Trim_ talk so for ever, cried _Susannah_, --what is it! (_Susannah_ laid her hand upon _Trim's_ shoulder)--but corruption? ----_Susannah_ took it off.
Now I love you for this--and 'tis this delicious mixture within you which makes you dear creatures what you are--and he who hates you for it------all I can say of the matter is --That he has either a pumpkin for his head--or a pippin for his heart, --and whenever he is dissected 'twill be found so.
'To us, Jonathan, who know not want or care - who live here in the service of two of the best of masters (excepting his majesty King William the Third) - I admit that from Whitsuntide to within three weeks of Christmas is not long; - but to those, Jonathan, who know what death is, and what havoc and destruction he can make - 'tis a whole age. O Jonathan! 'twould make a man's heart bleed,' continued the corporal, 'to consider how low many a brave and upright fellow has been laid since that time!
'And trust me, Susy,' he added, turning to Susannah, whose eyes were swimming, 'before that time comes round again, many a bright eye will be dim.' Susannah wept - but she curtsied too.
Trim continued, still looking at her, 'Are we not like a flower of the field - is not all flesh grass? 'Tis clay, - 'tis dirt.'
- They all looked at the scullery maid.
'What is the finest face that ever man saw?'
'I could hear Trim talk so for ever,' cried Susannah (laying her hand upon Trim's shoulder).
'What is it - but corruption?' - Susannah took it off.
Now I love you for this - 'tis this delicious mixture within you which makes you the dear creatures you are - and anyone who hates you for it - all I can say is, he has a pumpkin for his head.
Book 5 - Chapter 9