s that of Epictetus, for which three thousand drachmas had been formerly
refused.

Martial's polymix lantern (Motteux gives a footnote:--'A lamp with many
wicks, or a branch'd candlestick with many springs coming out of it, that
supply all the branches with oil.') made a very good figure there. I took
particular notice of its dress, and more yet of the lychnosimity formerly
consecrated by Canopa, the daughter of Tisias.

I saw the lantern pensile formerly taken out of the temple of Apollo
Palatinus at Thebes, and afterwards by Alexander the Great (carried to the
town of Cymos). (The words in brackets have been omitted by Motteux.)

I saw another that distinguished itself from the rest by a bushy tuft of
crimson silk on its head. I was told 'twas that of Bartolus, the lantern
of the civilians.

Two others were very remarkable for glister-pouches that dangled at their
waist. We were told that one was the greater light and the other the
lesser light of the apothecaries.

When 'twas supper-time, the queen's highness first sat down, and then the
lady lanterns, according to their rank and dignity. For the first course
they were all served with large Christmas candles, except the queen, who
was served with a hugeous, thick, stiff, flaming taper of white wax,
somewhat red towards the tip; and the royal family, as also the provincial
lantern of Mirebalais, who were served with nutlights; and the provincial
of Lower Poitou, with an armed candle.

After that, God wot, what a glorious light they gave with their wicks! I
do not say all, for you must except a parcel of junior lanterns, under the
government of a high and mighty one. These did not cast a light like the
rest, but seemed to me dimmer than any long-snuff farthing candle whose
tallow has been half melted away in a hothouse.

After supper we withdrew to take some rest, and the next day the queen made
us choose one of the most illustrious lanterns to guide us; after which we
took our leave.

Chapter 5.XXXIV.

How we arrived at the Oracle of the Bottle.

Our glorious lantern lighting and directing us to heart's content, we at
last arrived at the desired island where was the Oracle of the Bottle. As
soon as friend Panurge landed, he nimbly cut a caper with one leg for joy,
and cried to Pantagruel, Now we are where we have wished ourselves long
ago. This is the place we've been seeking with such toil and labour. He
then made a compliment to our lantern,