fully so great as you, except one that is their head, named Loupgarou, who is armed from head to foot with cyclopical anvils.  Furthermore, one hundred three score and three thousand foot, all armed with the skins of hobgoblins, strong and valiant men; eleven thousand four hundred men-at-arms or cuirassiers; three thousand six hundred double cannons, and arquebusiers without number; four score and fourteen thousand pioneers; one hundred and fifty thousand whores, fair like goddesses—­(That is for me, said Panurge)—­whereof some are Amazons, some Lionnoises, others Parisiennes, Taurangelles, Angevines, Poictevines, Normandes, and High Dutch—­there are of them of all countries and all languages.

Yea but, said Pantagruel, is the king there?  Yes, sir, said the prisoner; he is there in person, and we call him Anarchus, king of the Dipsodes, which is as much to say as thirsty people, for you never saw men more thirsty, nor more willing to drink, and his tent is guarded by the giants.  It is enough, said Pantagruel.  Come, brave boys, are you resolved to go with me?  To which Panurge answered, God confound him that leaves you!  I have already bethought myself how I will kill them all like pigs, and so the devil one leg of them shall escape.  But I am somewhat troubled about one thing.  And what is that? said Pantagruel.  It is, said Panurge, how I shall be able to set forward to the justling and bragmardizing of all the whores that be there this afternoon, in such sort that there escape not one unbumped by me, breasted and jummed after the ordinary fashion of man and women in the Venetian conflict.  Ha, ha, ha, ha, said Pantagruel.

And Carpalin said:  The devil take these sink-holes, if, by G—­, I do not bumbaste some one of them.  Then said Eusthenes:  What! shall not I have any, whose paces, since we came from Rouen, were never so well winded up as that my needle could mount to ten or eleven o’clock, till now that I have it hard, stiff, and strong, like a hundred devils?  Truly, said Panurge, thou shalt have of the fattest, and of those that are most plump and in the best case.

How now! said Epistemon; everyone shall ride, and I must lead the ass?  The devil take him that will do so.  We will make use of the right of war, Qui potest capere, capiat.  No, no, said Panurge, but tie thine ass to a crook, and ride as the world doth.  And the good Pantagruel laughed at all this, and said unto them, You reckon without your host.  I am much afraid that, before it be night, I shall see you in such taking that you will have no great stomach to ride, but more like to be rode upon with sound blows of pike and lance.  Baste, said Epistemon, enough of that!  I will not fail to bring them to you, either to roast or boil, to fry or put in paste.  They are not so many in number as were in the army of Xerxes, for he had thirty hundred thousand fighting-men, if you will believe Herodotus and Trogus Pompeius, and yet Themistocles with a few men overthrew them all.  For God’s sake, take you no care for that.  Cobsminny, cobsminny, said Panurge; my codpiece alone shall suffice to overthrow all the men; and my St. Sweephole, that dwells within it, shall lay all the women squat upon their backs.  Up then, my lads, said Pantagruel, and let us march along.