——“which words being heard by all the soldiers which were there, divers
of them being inwardly terrified, did shrink back and make room for the
assailant: all this did _Gymnast_ very well remark and consider; and
therefore, making as if he would have alighted from off his horse, as
he was poising himself on the mounting side, he most nimbly (with his
short sword by this thigh) shifting his feet in the stirrup, and
performing the stirrup-leather feat, whereby, after the inclining of
his body downwards, he forthwith launched himself aloft into the air,
and placed both his feet together upon the saddle, standing upright,
with his back turned towards his horse’s head,—Now, (said he) my case
goes forward. Then suddenly in the same posture wherein he was, he
fetched a gambol upon one foot, and turning to the left-hand, failed
not to carry his body perfectly round, just into his former position,
without missing one jot.——Ha! said _Tripet_, I will not do that at this
time,—and not without cause. Well, said _Gymnast_, I have failed,—I
will undo this leap; then with a marvellous strength and agility,
turning towards the right-hand, he fetched another striking gambol as
before; which done, he set his right hand thumb upon the bow of the
saddle, raised himself up, and sprung into the air, poising and
upholding his whole weight upon the muscle and nerve of the said thumb,
and so turned and whirled himself about three times: at the fourth,
reversing his body, and overturning it upside down, and foreside back,
without _touching any thing_, he brought himself betwixt the horse’s
two ears, and then giving himself a jerking swing, he seated himself
upon the crupper—”
(This can’t be fighting, said my uncle _Toby._——The corporal shook his
head at it.——Have patience, said _Yorick._)
“Then (_Tripet_) pass’d his right leg over his saddle, and placed
himself _en croup._—But, said he, ’twere better for me to get into the
saddle; then putting the thumbs of both hands upon the crupper before
him, and there-upon leaning himself, as upon the only supporters of his
body, he incontinently turned heels over head in the air, and strait
found himself betwixt the bow of the saddle in a tolerable seat; then
springing into the air with a summerset, he turned him about like a
wind-mill, and made above a hundred frisks, turns, and
demi-pommadas.”—Good God! cried _Trim_, losing all patience,—one home
thrust of a bayonet is worth it all.——I think so too, replied
_Yorick._——
I am of a contrary opinion, quoth my father.
C H A P. XXX
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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