irst?--Pan.: Yea!

Have ye Free Education?--Pan.: What?

Must they that have, pay to school them that have not?--Pan.: Nay

Have ye free land?--Pan.: What?

Have ye taken the land from the farmer, and given it to the tailor out
of work and the candlemaker masterless?--Pan.: Nay!

Have your women folk votes?--Pan.: Bosh!

Have ye got religion?--Pan.: How?

Do you go about the streets at night, brawling, blowing a trumpet before
you, and making long prayers?--Pan.: Nay

Have you manhood suffrage?--Pan.: Eh?

Is Jack as good as his master? Pan.: Nay!

Have you joined the Arbitration Society?--Pan.: _Quoy?_?

Will you let another kick you, and will you ask his neighbour if you
deserve the same?--Pan.: Nay?

Do you cat what you list?--Pan.: Ay!

Do you drink when you are athirst? Pan.: Ay!

Are you governed by the free expression of the popular will?--Pan.:
How?

Are you servants of priests, pulpits, and penny papers?--Pan.: No!

Now, when they heard these answers of Pantagruel they all fell, some a
weeping, some a praying, some a swearing, some an arbitrating, some a
lecturing, some a caucussing, some a preaching, some a faith-healing,
some a miracle-working, some a hypnotising, some a writing to the daily
press; and while they were thus busy, like folk distraught, 'reforming
the island,' Pantagruel burst out a laughing; whereat they were greatly
dismayed; for laughter killeth the whole race of Coqcigrues, and they
may not endure it.

Then Pantagruel and his company stole aboard a barque that Panurge had
ready in the harbour. And having provisioned her well with store of
meat and good drink, they set sail for the kingdom of Entelechy, where,
having landed, they were kindly entreated; and there abide to this day;
drinking of the sweet and eating of the fat, under the protection of
that intellectual sphere which hath in all places its centre and nowhere
its circumference.

Such was their destiny; there was their end appointed, and thither
the Coqcigrues can never come. For all the air of that land is full
of laughter, which killeth Coqcigrues; and there aboundeth the herb
Pantagruelion. But for thee, Master Francoys, thou art not well liked
in this island of ours, where the Coqcigrues are abundant, very fierce,
cruel, and tyrannical. Yet thou hast thy friends, that meet and drink
to thee and wish thee well wheresoever thou hast found thy _grand
peut-etre_.

VIII. To Jane Austen.

Madame,--