Was it _Mackay's_ regiment, quoth my uncle _Toby_, where the poor grenadier was so unmercifully whipp'd at _Bruges_ about the ducats? --O Christ! he was innocent! cried _Trim_, with a deep sigh. --And he was whipp'd, may it please your honour, almost to death's door. --They had better have shot him outright, as he begg'd, and he had gone directly to heaven, for he was as innocent as your honour. ------I thank thee, _Trim_, quoth my uncle _Toby_. ----I never think of his, continued _Trim_, and my poor brother _Tom's_ misfortunes, for we were all three school-fellows, but I cry like a coward. ----Tears are no proof of cowardice, _Trim_. --I drop them oft-times myself, cried my uncle _Toby_. ----I know your honour does, replied _Trim_, and so am not ashamed of it myself. --But to think, may it please your honour, continued _Trim_, a tear stealing into the corner of his eye as he spoke--to think of two virtuous lads with hearts as warm in their bodies, and as honest as God could make them--the children of honest people, going forth with gallant spirits to seek their fortunes in the world--and fall into such evils! --poor _Tom!_ to be tortured upon a rack for nothing--but marrying a Jew's widow who sold sausages--honest _Dick Johnson's_ soul to be scourged out of his body, for the ducats another man put into his knapsack! --O! --these are misfortunes, cried _Trim_, --pulling out his handkerchief--these are misfortunes, may it please your honour, worth lying down and crying over.

'Was it Mackay's regiment,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'where the poor grenadier was so unmercifully whipped about the ducats?'
'O Christ! he was innocent!' cried Trim, with a deep sigh. 'And he was whipped, your honour, almost to death's door.'
'I thank thee, Trim,' quoth my uncle Toby.
'I never think of it,' continued Trim, 'and my poor brother Tom's misfortunes - for we were all school-fellows - without crying like a coward.'
'Tears are no proof of cowardice, Trim. I drop them often myself,' cried my uncle Toby.
'I know your honour does,' replied Trim, 'and so am not ashamed of it. - But to think of two virtuous lads with hearts as warm and honest as God could make them - going forth with gallant spirits to seek their fortunes - and falling into such evils! poor Tom! to be tortured upon a rack for nothing but marrying a Jew's widow who sold sausages - and honest Dick Johnson's soul to be scourged out of his body, for the ducats another man put into his knapsack! O! these are misfortunes, your honour, worth lying down and crying over.'
