y seamstress of the palace, in taking away a louse from
off her bosom which he had put there himself, and, when he came into the
company of some good ladies, he would trifle them into a discourse of some
fine workmanship of bone-lace, then immediately put his hand into their
bosom, asking them, And this work, is it of Flanders, or of Hainault? and
then drew out his handkerchief, and said, Hold, hold, look what work here
is, it is of Foutignan or of Fontarabia, and shaking it hard at their nose,
made them sneeze for four hours without ceasing. In the meanwhile he would
fart like a horse, and the women would laugh and say, How now, do you fart,
Panurge? No, no, madam, said he, I do but tune my tail to the plain song
of the music which you make with your nose. In another he had a picklock,
a pelican, a crampiron, a crook, and some other iron tools, wherewith there
was no door nor coffer which he would not pick open. He had another full
of little cups, wherewith he played very artificially, for he had his
fingers made to his hand, like those of Minerva or Arachne, and had
heretofore cried treacle. And when he changed a teston, cardecu, or any
other piece of money, the changer had been more subtle than a fox if
Panurge had not at every time made five or six sols (that is, some six or
seven pence,) vanish away invisibly, openly, and manifestly, without making
any hurt or lesion, whereof the changer should have felt nothing but the
wind.

Chapter 2.XVII.

How Panurge gained the pardons, and married the old women, and of the suit
in law which he had at Paris.

One day I found Panurge very much out of countenance, melancholic, and
silent; which made me suspect that he had no money; whereupon I said unto
him, Panurge, you are sick, as I do very well perceive by your physiognomy,
and I know the disease. You have a flux in your purse; but take no care.
I have yet sevenpence halfpenny that never saw father nor mother, which
shall not be wanting, no more than the pox, in your necessity. Whereunto
he answered me, Well, well; for money one day I shall have but too much,
for I have a philosopher's stone which attracts money out of men's purses
as the adamant doth iron. But will you go with me to gain the pardons?
said he. By my faith, said I, I am no great pardon-taker in this world--if
I shall be any such in the other, I cannot tell; yet let us go, in God's
name; it is but one farthing more or less; But, said he, lend me