next you will infallibly be saved in the blessed kingdom of heaven,
whose keys are given to our good god and decretaliarch. O my good god,
whom I adore and never saw, by thy special grace open unto us, at the point
of death at least, this most sacred treasure of our holy Mother Church,
whose protector, preserver, butler, chief-larder, administrator, and
disposer thou art; and take care, I beseech thee, O lord, that the precious
works of supererogation, the goodly pardons, do not fail us in time of
need; so that the devils may not find an opportunity to gripe our precious
souls, and the dreadful jaws of hell may not swallow us. If we must pass
through purgatory thy will be done. It is in thy power to draw us out of
it when thou pleasest. Here Homenas began to shed huge hot briny tears, to
beat his breast, and kiss his thumbs in the shape of a cross.

Chapter 4.LIV.

How Homenas gave Pantagruel some bon-Christian pears.

Epistemon, Friar John, and Panurge, seeing this doleful catastrophe, began,
under the cover of their napkins, to cry Meeow, meeow, meeow; feigning to
wipe their eyes all the while as if they had wept. The wenches were doubly
diligent, and brought brimmers of Clementine wine to every one, besides
store of sweetmeats; and thus the feasting was revived.

Before we arose from table, Homenas gave us a great quantity of fair large
pears, saying, Here, my good friends, these are singular good pears. You
will find none such anywhere else, I dare warrant. Every soil bears not
everything, you know. India alone boasts black ebony; the best incense is
produced in Sabaea; the sphragitid earth at Lemnos; so this island is the
only place where such fine pears grow. You may, if you please, make
seminaries with their pippins in your country.

I like their taste extremely, said Pantagruel. If they were sliced, and
put into a pan on the fire with wine and sugar, I fancy they would be very
wholesome meat for the sick, as well as for the healthy. Pray what do you
call 'em? No otherwise than you have heard, replied Homenas. We are a
plain downright sort of people, as God would have it, and call figs, figs;
plums, plums; and pears, pears. Truly, said Pantagruel, if I live to go
home--which I hope will be speedily, God willing--I'll set off and graff
some in my garden in Touraine, by the banks of the Loire, and will call
them bon-Christian or good-Christian pears, for I never saw better
Christians than are t