Laurence Sterne — The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy Gentleman Chap. 4.15

       &nbsp—But it is an indubitable verity, continued I, addressing myself to the commissary, changing only the form of my asseveration—that I owe the king of France nothing but my good will; for he is a very honest man, and I wish him all health and pastime in the world—        &nbspPardonnez moi—replied the commissary, you are indebted to him six livres four sous, for the next post from hence to St. Fons, in your route to Avignon—which being a post royal, you pay double for the horses and postillion—otherwise 'twould have amounted to no more than three livres two sous—        &nbsp—But I don't go by land; said I.        &nbsp—You may if you please; replied the commissary—        &nbspYour most obedient servant—said I, making him a low bow—        &nbspThe commissary, with all the sincerity of grave good breeding—made me one, as low again.—I never was more disconcerted with a bow in my life.        &nbsp—The devil take the serious character of these people! quoth I—(aside) they understand no more of Irony than this—        &nbspThe comparison was standing close by with his panniers—but something seal'd up my lips—I could not pronounce the name—        &nbspSir, said I, collecting myself—it is not my intention to take post—        &nbsp—But you may—said he, persisting in his first reply—you may take post if you chuse—        &nbsp—And I may take salt to my pickled herring, said I, if I chuse—        &nbsp—But I do not chuse—        &nbsp—But you must pay for it, whether you do or no.        &nbspAye! for the salt; said I (I know)—        &nbsp—And for the post too; added he. Defend me! cried I—        &nbspI travel by water—I am going down the Rhone this very afternoon—my baggage is in the boat—and I have actually paid nine livres for my passage—        &nbspC'est tout egal—'tis all one; said he.        &nbspBon Dieu! what, pay for the way I go! and for the way I do not go!        &nbsp—C'est tout egal; replied the commissary—        &nbsp—The devil it is! said I—but I will go to ten thousand Bastiles first—        &nbspO England! England! thou land of liberty, and climate of good sense, thou tenderest of mothers—and gentlest of nurses, cried I, kneeling upon one knee, as I was beginning my apostrophe.        &nbspWhen the director of Madam Le Blanc's conscience coming in at that instant, and seeing a person in black, with a face as pale as ashes, at his devotions—looking still paler by the contrast and distress of his drapery—ask'd, if I stood in want of the aids of the church—        &nbspI go by Water—said I—and here's another will be for making me pay for going by Oil.