PANURGE BARGAINS WITH DINDENO FOR A RAM, AND THROWS HIS RAM OVERBOARD.
[Illustration: Initial F.]
Five days after leaving the Land of Pictures, the flag-ship being
in the lead, Pantagruel's keen eyes caught sight, away off to the
windward, of a large merchant-ship making her way slowly towards them.
There was great joy among all the men on all the ships. Those on the
fleet were glad, because they hoped, through the sail in sight, to hear
news of the sea; and those on the merchant-ship because her passengers
expected to get news from the main-land. When the flag-ship met with
the stranger, and when the two were side by side, Pantagruel, curious
to see a merchantman, went with his friends on board the latter.
The skipper of the merchantman, cap in hand, told Pantagruel that he
had come from Lanternland. As soon as this was known everybody tried to
put in a question about the country,--how it had got its name, and what
were the habits of the Lantern people. It was learned that, towards the
end of each July, the Lanternists held their great Fair, which, if the
Giant wished to see for himself how much could be made of lanterns,
whether single or strung in rows, by twos; by threes; by fours, and so
on; or piled in columns; or ranged in arches; or spanning streets; or
hung on trees; or sparkling on country roads; or swinging along the
whole coast, making it as bright as in sunshine,--why, all he would
have to do was to go there, if not that year, then the next.
While all this pleasant little talk was going on between the Giant
and the skipper, Panurge had already got into a wrangle with a French
sheep-seller, named Dindeno, who happened to have a large cargo of
sheep on board. This sheep-seller was a very bad-tongued fellow; and,
seeing Panurge passing by, with his glasses tied to his cap, and
looking at his stock, he called out sneeringly to his shepherds,--
"Just look at that long-nosed dandy, with his glasses tied to his cap!"
Panurge, whose ears were as keen as his nose was sharp, retorted,--
"What dost thou say, thou sheep-barber?
"Sheep-barber! Ha! I am no sheep-barber, I let thee know, thou
long-nosed dandy."
"Thou art no sheep-barber, eh! Prithee, tell me, then, rude fellow,
what are so many sheared sheep doing here? Who sheared them, if thou
didst not?"
"Thou art a rogue; and I will kill thee as I would a ram!" shrieked
the sheep-seller, while trying to draw his sword; but the blade stuck
close to the scabbard, as often happens on sea, from the rust caused by
salt-water. Panurge, who was not armed, and who, from his cradle, had
been a coward, ran for safety towards Pantagruel, who was not looking
at what was going on. But Friar John, always on the watch, with his
strong arm caught hold of Dindeno. Then Pantagruel, turning round and
seeing a man struggling with Friar John, knew for the first time that
there was a quarrel. At this moment the skipper stepped up, and, with
many bows and prayers that there should be no bad name given to his
ship, begged his Giantship to order peace. This was done, and Panurge
and Dindeno shook hands, apparently the best of friends.
A short time after, Panurge winked at Epistemon and Friar John, as much
as to say, "I want to have a word with you." As soon as they came near,
Panurge whispered, "Stand about here for a while, and you shall see
rare sport."
Having no idea of what was coming, Friar John and Epistemon stepped to
one side, and waited.
Then Panurge, turning to Dindeno, begged him to be good enough to sell
him one of his sheep.
[Illustration: PANURGE WANTS A SHEEP.]
"Hello! my good friend and neighbor," cried the sheep-seller, "dost
thou want to play tricks on poor people? How long since thou hast been
a buyer of sheep?"
"Whatever I may have been," said Panurge, gently, "be so kind as to
sell me one of thy sheep there. Now, how much wilt thou ask for one?"
"See here, friend and neighbor, these are noble creatures. These are
long-wooled sheep. It was from the fathers of these very sheep that
Jason took his famous Golden Fleece."
"I do not doubt thy word," said Panurge; "but fix thy price for one of
those precious sheep. Here is thy money ready for thee."
"My friend and neighbor, now listen to me!"
"I am listening."
"I shall make a bargain with thee! We have a pair of scales on board.
Get thee on one scale. I shall put my prize ram on the other. I am
willing to bet thee a peck of Busch oysters that, in weight, value, and
general worth, my ram shall outweigh thee!"
"That may be all so; but I beg thee, good Dindeno, without further
word, to be so kind as to sell me one of thy sheep; I care not which
one."
With that, he pulled out his purse, and showed it bursting with new
gold-pieces, with the face of good King Gargantua stamped on each piece.
Dindeno's eyes flashed at the glitter of so much gold; but he had made
up his mind to insult Panurge until he made him angry.
"My friend and neighbor," he said, "my sheep are meat only for kings
and princes. They are too nice and dainty for such as thou."
"Be patient now, and please grant my request. Only set thy price for
one, and I will pay thee like a king."
"Thou art a fine fellow, truly," sneered Dindeno; "but tell me first,
hast thou ever seen such shoulders, such legs, such knuckles, such
backs and breasts as thou canst see here? Such strong ribs, out of
which the small people in Pigmy-land make cross-bows to shoot with
cherry-stones those long-legged cranes in their country? Think of all
this for a second!"
"Peace, good man, I pray thee!" Panurge was about to say more, when he
was stopped all of a sudden by the skipper, who had just drawn near at
the sound of loud voices, and had heard Dindeno's sharp tones. "Enough!
Enough! Too much talk here!" he cried. "Dindeno, if thou wantest to
sell, sell. If thou wilt not, have done with it."
"I am willing to sell, Captain, for thy sake; but for thy sake alone,"
said the sheep-seller. "But he must pay me three French livres for his
pick and choice."
"That is a big price," said Panurge, gently. "In my own country, I can
buy five, nay, six fine rams for that much money."
"But not such sheep as mine!" yelled Dindeno, who was getting very
angry that he had not vexed Panurge.
"Really, sweet sir, thou art getting a little warm. Come, now, the
bargain is ended. Here is thy price. Give me my ram."
[Illustration: PANURGE BUYS A RAM.]
Dindeno, in clutching angrily at the money, rudely pulled it out of the
hands of the patient Panurge. Holding himself as straight as he could,
with an innocent smile upon his face, Panurge--having at last got what
he wanted--looked around to make his choice. He soon picked out the
finest ram in all the flock. The moment he caught hold of his ram, and
began to haul it along, the poor beast set up a pitiful bleating. As
soon as the rest of the sheep heard their leader bleating, they, too,
set to crying and bleating, while staring at him with all their eyes
wide open. Meanwhile, Dindeno, full of rage, was whispering to his
shepherds,--
"That long-nosed fellow knows how to choose! That ram he has taken was
the very one I had put aside for my best friend, the Lord of Cancale!"
As quick as lightning--before anybody knew what he was about; even
before Dindeno in fact, had turned away from whispering to his
shepherds--Panurge had caught up his bargain, bleating louder than
ever, and thrown it overboard into the sea. At this, all the other
sheep on the ship, crying and bleating just in the same sad key as
their leader, began to scamper to the side and leap into the sea one
after another. It was, with all of them, "Who shall be first after our
leader?" it being the nature of sheep, which are the silliest creatures
in the world, always to follow their leader.
[Illustration: PANURGE THROWS HIS RAM OVERBOARD.]
When Dindeno turned round and saw his precious sheep frisking and
drowning themselves before his eyes, he was at his wits' end. He tore
his hair, and called out to his shepherds, "Help me save my sheep!
help me!" Then he ran forward, and tried to keep, by might and main,
the sheep from jumping into the sea; but it was all in vain. One after
the other frisked gaily forward, bleating sadly all the while, to the
spot where they had seen Panurge throw their leader overboard. At last
Dindeno, in his despair, caught hold of a big ram by the fleece, hoping
to be able to keep him back, and, in that way, to save the rest. But
the ram was stronger than Dindeno, and bore him away with him into the
sea, where both were drowned.
This was, of course, bad enough; but there was something worse to come.
All of Dindeno's shepherds rushed forward to save the sheep, some
catching them by the horns, some by the fleece, others by the legs,
others still by their stumpy tails. It mattered little which way the
poor innocent shepherds caught hold of the sheep, the sheep were too
much for them, and they were all carried overboard into the sea, and
drowned along with their master.
[Illustration: THE SHEEP AND SHEPHERDS DROWN.]
All this time Panurge was standing near the galley of the ship, holding
an oar in his hand. This was not, you may well believe, to keep the
poor shepherds from drowning. No! no! Panurge was not so soft-hearted
as _that!_ He used his oar only to keep the sheep from swimming up to
the ship, crying out all the time,--"Drown, foolish sheep, drown! It
is sweeter to drown than to live and be butchered, you foolish sheep!"
Wicked Panurge! He never once thought of Dindeno and the innocent
shepherds!