and Bacbuc kneeled by him, when
such a kind of humming was heard out of the Bottle as is made by a swarm of
bees bred in the flesh of a young bull killed and dressed according to
Aristaeus's art, or such as is made when a bolt flies out of a crossbow, or
when a shower falls on a sudden in summer. Immediately after this was
heard the word Trinc. By cob's body, cried Panurge, 'tis broken, or
cracked at least, not to tell a lie for the matter; for even so do crystal
bottles speak in our country when they burst near the fire.

Bacbuc arose, and gently taking Panurge under the arms, said, Friend, offer
your thanks to indulgent heaven, as reason requires. You have soon had the
word of the Goddess-Bottle; and the kindest, most favourable, and certain
word of answer that I ever yet heard her give since I officiated here at
her most sacred oracle. Rise, let us go to the chapter, in whose gloss
that fine word is explained. With all my heart, quoth Panurge; by jingo, I
am just as wise as I was last year. Light, where's the book? Turn it
over, where's the chapter? Let's see this merry gloss.

Chapter 5.XLV.

How Bacbuc explained the word of the Goddess-Bottle.

Bacbuc having thrown I don't know what into the fountain, straight the
water ceased to boil; and then she took Panurge into the greater temple, in
the central place, where there was the enlivening fountain.

There she took out a hugeous silver book, in the shape of a half-tierce, or
hogshead, of sentences, and, having filled it at the fountain, said to him,
The philosophers, preachers, and doctors of your world feed you up with
fine words and cant at the ears; now, here we really incorporate our
precepts at the mouth. Therefore I'll not say to you, read this chapter,
see this gloss; no, I say to you, taste me this fine chapter, swallow me
this rare gloss. Formerly an ancient prophet of the Jewish nation ate a
book and became a clerk even to the very teeth! Now will I have you drink
one, that you may be a clerk to your very liver. Here, open your
mandibules.

Panurge gaping as wide as his jaws would stretch, Bacbuc took the silver
book--at least we took it for a real book, for it looked just for the world
like a breviary--but in truth it was a breviary, a flask of right Falernian
wine as it came from the grape, which she made him swallow every drop.

By Bacchus, quoth Panurge, this was a notable chapter, a most authentic
gloss, o' my word. Is this all t