pleasure but to swig, tipple, drink, and boose till the coming of
that last darkness and Twilight, wherein they, with their deities,
should do battle against the enemies of all mankind; which day they
rather desired than dreaded.

So chanced it also with Pantagruel and Brother John and their
company, after they had once partaken of the secret of the Dive
Bouteille. Thereafter they searched no longer; but, abiding at
their ease, were merry, frolic, jolly, gay, glad, and wise; only
that they always and ever did expect the awful Coming of the
Coqcigrues. Now concerning the day of that coming, and the nature
of them that should come, they knew nothing; and for his part
Panurge was all the more adread, as Aristotle testifieth that men
(and Panurge above others) most fear that which they know least.
Now it chanced one day, as they sat at meat, with viands rare,
dainty, and precious as ever Apicius dreamed of, that there
fluttered on the air a faint sound as of sermons, speeches,
orations, addresses, discourses, lectures, and the like; whereat
Panurge, pricking up his ears, cried, "Methinks this wind bloweth
from Midlothian," and so fell a trembling.

Next, to their aural orifices, and the avenues audient of the brain,
was borne a very melancholy sound as of harmoniums, hymns, organ-
pianos, psalteries, and the like, all playing different airs, in a
kind most hateful to the Muses. Then said Panurge, as well as he
might for the chattering of his teeth: "May I never drink if here
come not the Coqcigrues!" and this saying and prophecy of his was
true and inspired. But thereon the others began to mock, flout, and
gird at Panurge for his cowardice. "Here am I!" cried Brother John,
"well-armed and ready to stand a siege; being entrenched, fortified,