guns; let us fly, I do not say with hands and feet, as Brutus said at the battle of Pharsalia; I say, with sails and oars. Let us fly; I never have courage at sea: in cellars, and elsewhere, I have more than enough. Let us fly. Let us save ourselves. I do not say this for any fear that I have; for I dread nothing but danger, that I do not. I always say that. The free archer of Baignolet said as much. Let us hazard nothing else, therefore, I say, lest we come off bluely. Let us fly. Turn front. Would I were now well in Quinquenois, though I were never to marry. Boutship. Let us fly; we are not for them; they are ten to one, I will warrant you; nay, and they are on their own dunghill, while we do not know the country. They will kill us. We will lose no honour by flying. Demosthenes saith, that the man that runs away may fight another day. At least, let us retreat. Helm a-lee; bring the main tack aboard, haul the bowlins, hoist the topgallants; we are all dead men. Let us fly, in the name of all the devils; let us fly."

Pantagruel hearing the outcry which Panurge made, said, "Who is this coward? Let us first see what people they are; perhaps they may be friends: I can discover nobody yet, though I can see a hundred miles round me. But let us consider a little: I have read that a philosopher, named Petron, was of opinion that there were

several worlds that touched each other in an equilateral triangle; in whose centre, he said, was the dwelling of truth; and that the words, ideas, copies, and images of all things past, and to come, resided there; round which was the Age; and in certain years, at long intervals, part of them fall on mankind like catarrhs, just as the dew fell on Gideon's fleece, part remaining reserved for the future and the fulfilment of the Age."

"I also remember," continued he, "that Aristotle affirms Homer's words to be flying, moving, and consequently animated. Besides, Antiphanes said, that Plato's philosophy was like words, which, being spoken in some country during a hard winter, are immediately congealed and frozen by the cold of the air, and are not heard; for what Plato taught young lads, could hardly be understood by them when they were grown old. Now," continued he, "we should philosophise and search whether this be not the place where those words are thawed.

"We should wonder very much if this were the head and lyre of Orpheus. When the Thracian women had torn him to pieces, they threw his head and lyre into the river Hebrus; down which they floated to the Euxine sea, as far as the island of Lesbos; and from the head there issued perpetually a doleful song, as if lamenting the death of Orpheus, and the lyre, wind's impulse moving

its strings, harmoniously accompanied the voice. Let us see if we can discover them hereabouts."

The pilot made answer: "Be not afraid, my lord; we are on the confines of the Frozen Sea, on which, about the beginning of last winter, happened a great and bloody fight between the Arimaspians and the Nephelibates. Then froze in the air the words and cries of men and women, the hewing of battle-axes, the hurtling of armour and harness, the neighing of horses, and all other din of battle; and now, the rigour of the winter being over, the serenity and warmth of the good season having come, they melt and are heard."

"Pardieu!" said Panurge, "I believe it; but could not we see some of them? I think I have read that, along the mountain on which Moses received the Judaic law, the people saw the voices sensibly."

"Here, here," said Pantagruel, "here are some that are not yet thawed." He then threw on the deck whole handfuls of frozen words, which seemed to us like the sugar plums of many colours used in heraldry some words gules, some vert, some azure, some sable, some or; and when we had somewhat warmed them between our hands, they melted like snow, and we really heard them, but could not understand them, for it was a barbarous gibberish. One of them only, that was pretty big, having been warmed between Friar John's hands,

gave a sound much like that of chestnuts when they are thrown into the fire, without being first cut, which made us all start. "This was the report of a field-piece in its time," cried Friar John.

Panurge prayed Pantagruel to give him some more; but Pantagruel told him that to give words was the part of a lover.

"Sell me some, then," cried Panurge.

"That is the part of a lawyer," returned Pantagruel. "I would sooner sell you silence at a dearer rate; as Demosthenes formerly sold it by the means of his argentangina, or silver quinsey."

However, he threw three or four handfuls of them on the deck; among which I perceived some very sharp words, and some bloody words, which, the pilot said, used sometimes to go back and recoil to the place whence they came, but it was with a slit weasand: terrible words, and others not very pleasant to the eye.

When they had been all melted together, we heard hin, hin, hin, hin, his, tick, torche, forgne, brededin, frr, frrr, frrr, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, tracc, tracc, trr, trr, trr, trrr, trrrrrr; on, on, on, on, on, on, ououououon, goc, magoc, and I do not know what other barbarous words; which, the pilot said, were words of the snorting and neighing of horses at the charge.

Then we heard some large ones, and they sounded when they melted like drums and fifes,

and others like clarions and trumpets. Believe me, we had very good sport with them. I would fain have saved some merry words, and have preserved them in oil, as ice and snow are kept, and between clean straw. But Pantagruel would not let me, saying, that it is a folly to hoard up what we are never like to want, or have always at hand; merry words never being scarce among all good and joyous Pantagruelists.

THE KINGDOM OF GASTER.

That day Pantagruel went ashore on an island, admirable among all others for its situation and its sovereign. On all sides at first landing it was rugged, craggy, and mountainous, barren, unpleasant to the eye, difficult to the foot, and almost as inaccessible as the mountain of Dauphiné, which is somewhat like a pumpkin, and in the memory of man was never climbed by any but Doyac, the conductor of King Charles VIII.'s train of artillery.

He, with strange engines, gained the top, and there he found an old ram. It was a wonder who had brought it thither. Some said that an eagle or screech-owl, having carried it thither while it was yet a lamb, it had got away, and saved itself among the bushes.