—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 suspense 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.