I took her at first for the daughter of the peasant (for it was no inn)--so had offer'd her a little purse with eighteen florins, which my poor brother _Tom_ (here _Trim_ wip'd his eyes) had sent me as a token, by a recruit, just before he set out for _Lisbon_.----
----I never told your honour that piteous story yet----here _Trim_ wiped his eyes a third time.
The young woman call'd the old man and his wife into the room, to show them the money, in order to gain me credit for a bed and what little necessaries I should want, till I should be in a condition to be got to the hospital ----Come then! said she, tying up the little purse --I'll be your banker--but as that office alone will not keep me employ'd, I'll be your nurse too.
I thought by her manner of speaking this, as well as by her dress, which I then began to consider more attentively----that the young woman could not be the daughter of the peasant.
She was in black down to her toes, with her hair conceal'd under a cambric border, laid close to her forehead: she was one of those kind of nuns, an' please your honour, of which, your honour knows, there are a good many in _Flanders_, which they let go loose ----By thy description, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_, I dare say she was a young _Beguine_, of which there are none to be found anywhere but in the _Spanish Netherlands_--except at _Amsterdam_----they differ from nuns in this, that they can quit their cloister if they choose to marry; they visit and take care of the sick by profession ----I had rather, for my own part, they did it out of good-nature.
----She often told me, quoth _Trim_, she did it for the love of Christ --I did not like it. ----I believe, _Trim_, we are both wrong, said my uncle _Toby_--we'll ask Mr. _Yorick_ about it to-night at my brother _Shandy's_----so put me in mind; added my uncle _Toby_.

'I took her at first for the peasant's daughter, so had offered her a little purse with eighteen florins, which my poor brother Tom had sent me, just before he set out for Lisbon. - I never told your honour that piteous story yet.' - Here Trim wiped his eyes again.
'The young woman called the old man and his wife into the room to show them the money,' he went on, 'in order to gain me credit for a bed and what necessaries I should want, till I could be got to the hospital. "Come then!" said she; "I'll be your banker - and I'll be your nurse too."
'I thought by her manner of speaking, as well as by her dress, that the young woman could not be the peasant's daughter. She was in black down to her toes, with her hair concealed under a cambric border: she was one of those kind of nuns, of which, your honour knows, there are a good many in Flanders.'
'By thy description, Trim,' said my uncle Toby, 'I dare say she was a young Beguine, who are found in the Spanish Netherlands. They differ from nuns in this, that they can quit their cloister if they choose to marry. They take care of the sick by profession - though I had rather they did it out of good-nature.'
'She often told me,' quoth Trim, 'she did it for the love of Christ. - I did not like it.'
'We'll ask Mr. Yorick about it to-night, at my brother Shandy's - so remind me,' said my uncle Toby.
