Chapter 5.XXVI.--How we came to the island of Odes, where the ways go up and down Chapter 5.XXVII.--How we came to the island of Sandals; and of the order of Semiquaver Friars Chapter 5.XXVIII.--How Panurge asked a Semiquaver Friar many questions, and was only answered in monosyllables Chapter 5.XXIX.--How Epistemon disliked the institution of Lent Chapter 5.XXX.--How we came to the land of Satin Chapter 5.XXXI.--How in the land of Satin we saw Hearsay, who kept a school of vouching Chapter 5.XXXII.--How we came in sight of Lantern-land Chapter 5.XXXIII.--How we landed at the port of the Lychnobii, and came to Lantern-land Chapter 5.XXXIV.--How we arrived at the Oracle of the Bottle Chapter 5.XXXV.--How we went underground to come to the Temple of the Holy Bottle, and how Chinon is the oldest city in the world Chapter 5.XXXVI.--How we went down the tetradic steps, and of Panurge’s fear Chapter 5.XXXVII.--How the temple gates in a wonderful manner opened of themselves Chapter 5.XXXVIII.--Of the temple’s admirable pavement Chapter 5.XXXIX.--How we saw Bacchus’s army drawn up in battalia in mosaic work Chapter 5.XL.--How the battle in which the good Bacchus overthrew the Indians was represented in mosaic work Chapter 5.XLI.--How the temple was illuminated with a wonderful lamp Chapter 5.XLII.--How the Priestess Bacbuc showed us a fantastic fountain in the temple, and how the fountain-water had the taste of wine, according to the imagination of those who drank of it Chapter 5.XLIII.--How the Priestess Bacbuc equipped Panurge in order to have the word of the Bottle Chapter 5.XLIV.--How Bacbuc, the high-priestess, brought Panurge before the Holy Bottle Chapter 5.XLV.--How Bacbuc explained the word of the Goddess-Bottle Chapter 5.XLVI.--How Panurge and the rest rhymed with poetic fury Chapter 5.XLVII.--How we took our leave of Bacbuc, and left the Oracle of the Holy Bottle Introduction. Had Rabelais never written his strange and marvellous romance, no one would ever have imagined the possibility of its production. It stands outside other things--a mixture of mad mirth and gravity, of folly and reason, of childishness and grandeur, of the commonplace and the out-of-the-way, of popular verve and polished humanism, of mother-wit and learning, of baseness and nobility, of personalities and broad generalization, of the comic and the serious, of the impossible and the familiar. Throughout the whole there is such a force of life and thought, such a power of good sense, a kind of assurance so authoritative, that he takes rank with the greatest; and his peers are not many. You may like him or not, may attack him or sing his praises, but you cannot ignore him. He is of those that die hard. Be as fastidious as you will; make up your mind to recognize only those who are, without any manner of doubt, beyond and above all others; however few the names you keep, Rabelais’ will always remain.