"My friend and neighbor, now listen to me!"
"I am listening."
"I shall make a bargain with thee! We have a pair of scales on board. Get thee on one scale. I shall put my prize ram on the other. I am willing to bet thee a peck of Busch oysters that, in weight, value, and general worth, my ram shall outweigh thee!"
"That may be all so; but I beg thee, good Dindeno, without further word, to be so kind as to sell me one of thy sheep; I care not which one."
With that, he pulled out his purse, and showed it bursting with new gold-pieces, with the face of good King Gargantua stamped on each piece.
Dindeno's eyes flashed at the glitter of so much gold; but he had made up his mind to insult Panurge until he made him angry.
"My friend and neighbor," he said, "my sheep are meat only for kings and princes. They are too nice and dainty for such as thou."
"Be patient now, and please grant my request. Only set thy price for one, and I will pay thee like a king."
"Thou art a fine fellow, truly," sneered Dindeno; "but tell me first, hast thou ever seen such shoulders, such legs, such knuckles, such backs and breasts as thou canst see here? Such strong ribs, out of which the small people in Pigmy-land make cross-bows to shoot with cherry-stones those long-legged cranes in their country? Think of all this for a second!"
"Peace, good man, I pray thee!" Panurge was about to say more, when he was stopped all of a sudden by the skipper, who had just drawn near at the sound of loud voices, and had heard Dindeno's sharp tones. "Enough! Enough! Too much talk here!" he cried. "Dindeno, if thou wantest to sell, sell. If thou wilt not, have done with it."