Chapter C: H a P. LVIII

—BUT can the thing be undone, _Yorick?_ said my father—for in my opinion, continued he, it cannot. I am a vile canonist, replied _Yorick_—but of all evils, holding suspence to be the most tormenting, we shall at least know the worst of this matter. I hate these great dinners——said my father—The size of the dinner is not the point, answered _Yorick_——we want, Mr. _Shandy_, to dive into the bottom of this doubt, whether the name can be changed or not—and as the beards of so many commissaries, officials, advocates, proctors, registers, and of the most eminent of our school-divines, and others, are all to meet in the middle of one table, and _Didius_ has so pressingly invited you—who in your distress would miss such an occasion? All that is requisite, continued _Yorick_, is to apprize _Didius_, and let him manage a conversation after dinner so as to introduce the subject.—Then my brother _Toby_, cried my father, clapping his two hands together, shall go with us.

——Let my old tye-wig, quoth my uncle _Toby_, and my laced regimentals, be hung to the fire all night, _Trim._