Old Prologue
Liminary Epistle (of January 28, 1552)
Prologue of the Author M. Francois Rabelais
1. How Pantagruel put out to sea to visit the oracle of the divine
Bacbuc.
2. How on the island of Medamothi Pantagruel bought several
beautiful things.
3. How Pantagruel received a letter from his father Gargantua and
of a strange way of getting news very promptly from distant foreign
countries.
4. How Pantagruel writes to his father Gargantua and sends him
several rare and beautiful things.
5. How Pantagruel encountered a ship with travelers returning from
Lanternland.
6. How, with the dispute pacified, Panurge bargains with Dindenault
for one of his sheep.
7. Continuation of the bargaining between Panurge and Dindenault.
8. How Panurge had the merchant and the sheep drowned at sea.
9. How Pantagruel reached the island of Ennasin, and of the strange
relationships of the country.
10. How Pantigruel went ashore on the island of Cheli, which was
ruled by King Saint Panigqn.
11. Why monks like to be in the kitchen.
12. How Pantagruel passed Procuration, and of the strange way of life
among the Shysteroos.
13. How, after the example of Master Francois Villon, the lord of
Basche praises his people.
14. Continuation of the Shysteroos drubbed in the house of Basche
15. How by Shysteroos are renewed the ancient wedding customs.
16. How Frere Jean makes trial of the nature of the Shysteroos.
17. How Pantagruel passed the islands of Tohu and Bohu, and of the
strange death of Bringuenarilles, the windmill-swallower.
18. How Pantagruel came safely through a mighty tempest at sea.
19. How Panurge and Frere Jean behaved during the tempest.
20. How quartermasters abandon ship at the height of the tempest.
21. Continuation of the tempest, and brief discourse on wills made at sea.
22. End of the tempest.
23. How, with the tempest over, Panurge plays the jolly good fellow.
24. How by Frere Jean Panurge is declared to have been scared
without reason during the storm.
25. How after the tempest Pantagruel went ashore on the islands of
the Macraeons.
26. How the good Macrobe tells Pantagruel about the abode and
departure of heroes.
27. How Pantagruel discourses on the departure of certain heroic souls,
and of the horrific prodigies that accompanied the demise of the late
lord of Langey.
28. How Pantagruel relates a piteous story concerning the decease of
heroes.
29. How Pantagruel passed the island of Coverup, which was ruled by
Fastilent.
30. How Fastilent is anatomized and described by Xenomanes.
31. Anatomy of Fastilent as regards the outward parts.
32. Continuation of Fastilent's physical features.
33. How Pantagruel sighted a monstrous physeter near the Wild Island.
34. How Pantagruel slew the monstrous physeter.
35. How Pantagruel goes ashore on the Wild Island, ancient abode of
the Chitterlings.
36. How an ambush is laid against Pantagruel by the wild
Chitterlings.
37. How Pantagruel sent for Captains Gobblechitterling and Chopsausage,
with a noteworthy discourse on the proper names of places and persons.
38. How Chitterlings are not to be despised among humans.
39. How Frere Jean joins forces with the cooks to combat the
Chitterlings.
40. How Frere Jean is set up in the sow and the valiant cooks arc
enclosed in it.
41. How Pantagruel snapped the Chitterlings over his knee.
42. How Pantagruel parleys with Niphleseth, queen of the
Chitterlings.
43. How Pantagruel went ashore on the island of Ruach.
44. How little rains beat down great winds.
45. How Pantagruel went ashore on the island of the Popefigs.
46. How the little devil was fooled by a farmer from
Popefigland.
47. How the devil was fooled by an old woman of Popefigland.
48. How Pantagruel went ashore on the island of the
Papimaniacs.
49. How Grosbeak, bishop of the Papimaniacs, showed us the
uranopete Decretals.
50. How by Grosbeak we were shown the archetype of a pope.
51. Small talk during dinner in praise of the Decretals.
52. Continuation of the miracles occasioned by the Decretals.
53. How by virtue of the Decretals gold is subtly drawn from France
into Rome.
54. How Grosbeak gave Pantagruel some good-Christian pears.
55. How on the high seas Pantagruel heard some unfrozen
56. How among the frozen words Pantagruel found some lusty jests.
57. How Pantagruel went ashore at the /bode of Messere Gaster, first
master of arts- in the world.
58. How. in the court of the ingenious master, Pantagruel detested the
agastrimyths and the Gastfolaters.
59. Of the ridiculous statue called Manduce, and how and what the Gastro-
laters sacrificed to their ventripotent god.
60. How, on the interlarded fast-days, the Gastrolaters sacrifice to their
god.
61. How Gaster invented the methods of getting and preserving grain.
62. How Gaster invented an art and means not to be wounded or touched
by cannon shots.
63. How Pantagruel took a nap near the island of Chaneph, and of the
problems proposed when he waked.
64. How no answer was given by Pantagruel to the problems proposed.
65. How Pantagruel enjoys his time with his household.
66. How, near the island of Ganabin, at Pantagruel's commandment the
muses were saluted.
67. How Panurge beshat himself in panic fear and thought the great cat
Rodilardus was a devilkin.





Old Prologue (1548)
To the Fourth Book.


Most illustrious drinkers, and you, most precious poxies, I have received, heard,
and understood the Ambassador that the Lordship of your Lord-ships Seigneurie de
voz Seigneuries] has transmitted in the direction of my Paternity, and he seemed
to me a very good and very eloquent orator. The summary of this message I reduce to
three words, which are of such great importance that of old, among the Romans, with
these three words the Praetor responded to all petitions set forth for judgment;
with these three words he decided all controversies, all complaints, lawsuits, and
disputes; and the days were called unfortunate and ill-starred on which the Praetor
did not use these three auspicious and fortunate words, fortunate and auspicious
those on which he made use of them: "You give, you say, you adjudge [appoint by
judgment]."2

O my good folk, I can't see you!3 May the power of Gods, be to you, and no less to
me, eternally an aid. Now then, in God's name; let's never do anything unless first
His holy name be praised! You give me what? A fine ample breviary.4 Honest to Gosh,
I thank you for it: that will be the most I can do, the least I should. What sort
of breviary it was, I certainly was not thinking, seeing the reigletz,5 the rosette,
the clasps, the binding, and the cover, on which I did not fail to consider the
sword hooks and the magpies painted above and sprinkled in a very beautiful arrange-
ment, by which, if they were hieroglyphics, you would readily say there's no work-
manship like a tosspot's magpie-nibbler [crocqueurs de pies]. Crocquer pie signi-
fies a certain joyousness derived by a metaphor from the prodigy that happened in
Brittany a short time before the battle fought near Saint-Aubin-du-Cormier. Our
fathers have expounded it to us; it is right that our successors should not be ig-
norant of it. It was the year of the good grape crop; they were offering a quart
of good tasty wine for a lace lacking one of its tags.

From the region of the Orient flew up a great number of jays from one direction,
a great number of magpies from the other, all heading toward the Occident. And
they skirted each other in such an order that in the evening the jays were pull-
ing back toward the left (here understand the felicity of the augury) and the mag-
pies toward the right, rather near each other. Whatever region they passed through,
there remained neither a magpie that did not join the magpies' camp nor a jay that
did not join the camp of the jays. So far did they go, so far did they fly, that
they passed over Angers, a city in France on the frontier of Brittany,6 in num-
bers so multiplied that by their flight they blocked the sunlight from the lands
lying underneath:1

In Angers at that time was an old uncle, Seigneur de Saint-Georges, named Frapin;
he's the ne who wrote and composed the merry Noels in the Poitevin tongue. He
had a jay he delighted in because of his chatter, in which he used to invite all the
passersby to drink; never did he sing except about drinking; and he called him his
Bulgey [son Goitrou]. This jay, in martial fury, broke his cage and joined the
passing jays. A barber named Behuart had a very gallant female magpie. With her
person she increased the number of magpies and followed them into combat.

Now here are great things, paradoxical but true, witnessed and attested. Take good
note of everything! What was the outcome? What came of it, good folk? A wondrous
thing! Near the Malchara Cross the battle was so furious that it's a horrible thing
just to think of it: the outcome was that the magpies lost the battle and were cru-
elly slain on the spot up to the number of 2,589,362,109, not counting the females
and the little magpie chicks, you understand. The jays remained victorious, not
however without the loss of many of their good soldiers; so the damage was great
throughout the whole region. The Bretons are gents,' you know. But if they had un-
derstood the prodigy, they would have easily recognized that misfortune would be
on their side. For magpies' tails are in the form of ermines; blue jays have in
their plumage a few images of the arms of France.8

By the way, Bulgey came back from the wars three days later, all crestfallen and
with one eye bloodshot. However, a few hours after he had fed in his usual fashion
he returned to his good mood. The dandies, the people, and the schoolboys of Angers
ran up in droves to see him thus decked out. Bulgey kept inviting them to drink as
usual, adding the invitation, "Crocquez pie!" [Nibble magpie]. I suppose that was
the watchword on the day of the battle, and all made it their business to use it.
Behuart's magpie was not coming back; she had been nibbled. From this it was said
as a common proverb that to drink your fill in great drafts was really nibbling
magpie. With such pictures, for immemorial memory, Frapin had his servants' mess
and lower hall painted. You can see it in Angers on the Tertre Saint-Laurent.

This figure placed in your breviary made me think that in it there was something,
I khow not what, of a breviary. And indeed to what purpose would you be making me
a present of a breviary? I have some, thanks be to God and to you, from old ones
right down to new. In this doubt, opening the said breviary, I soon perceived that
it was a breviary wrought on a wondrous conceit, and its ribbons all apt and the
inscriptions appropriate. So you want me to drink white wine at prime [see "hours"
in the Glossary]; at tierce, sext, and nones likewise; at vespers and compline,
claret wine; and this you call nibbling magpie [crocquer pie]; truly you were
never hatched by a bad magpie. I'll grant this petition.9

You say what? That in no way have I angered you by all my books printed up to now.
If in this connection I cite you the saying of an old Pantagruelist, still less
will I anger you:

"It is;" said he, "no ordinary thing
To have known how to entertain a king."'"

You say further that the Third Book was to your taste and that it is good. True it
is that there wasn't much of it, and you don't like what they commonly say: A lit-
tle and good"; you prefer what the good Evispande Verron used to say: "A lot, and
good!" Moreover you invite me to the continuation of the Pantagrueline story, al-
leging the utilities and fruits received in the reading thereof by all good people,
excusing yourselves for not obeying the request I made you, that you abstain from
laughing until the seventy-eighth book. I forgive you for it with all my heart.
I'm not as implacable as you might thinkl But what I was saying about it was not
to your detriment. And I say to you in reply, as is Hector's saying set forth by
Nevius that it is a fine thing to be praised by praiseworthy people. By a recipro-
cal declaration I say, and maintainp to the stake, exclusive (you understand, and
for good reason), that you are all fine good people, all issued from good fathers
and good mothers. Promising you, word of a foot soldier, that if I ever meet you
in Mesopotamia, I'll do so well with little Count George of Lower Egypt" that he
will make each one of you a present of a handsome Nile crocodile and a nightmare'
from the Euphrates.

You adjudge. What? To whom? All the old quarter moons to the hypocrites, dissem-
blers, impostors, gumshoes [botineurs], phonies, drones, hairypaws, indulgence-ped-
dlers, catamites. These are horrific names, just to hear the sound of them. On
hearing them pronounced, I saw the hair of your noble ambassador stand on end. I
didn't understand any of them but the High German, and I don't know what sort of
barbarous beasts you include in those denominations. Having done dili-gent re-
search through diverse countries, I've never met a man who ac-knowledged them or
who put up with being so designated. I assume that these were some sort of bar-
barous beasts from the time of the high bon-nets; now it has perished in nature,
as all things have their finish and period, and we do not know what the defini-
tion of them is, as you know that, the subject perished, easily perishes its de-
nomination.

If by these terms you understand the calumniators of my writings, more aptly may
you call them devils. For in Greek, calumny is called diabole." See how detest-
able, in the eyes of God and the angels, is this vice called calumny (that is
when a good deed is impugned, when good things are maligned), that by this one,
although several would seem more enormous, are the devils in hell named and call-
ed. These people are not (strictly speaking) devils from hell. They are their
attendants and ministers. I name them black-and-white devils, domestic devils.
What they have done to my books they will do (if they are left free to) to all
others. But this is not by their own scheming. I say this so that henceforth they
may not pride themselves so much on the surname of old Cato the
Censor.

Have you ever heard what it means to spit in the basin? In olden times the pre-
decessors of these private devils, overseers of pleasure, destroyers of decency
such as a Philoxenus, a Gnatho, and others of the same ilk, when around the tav-
erns where they ordinarily used to hold their schools, seeing the guests being
served some good dishes and tasty morsels, they would foully spit in the platters,
so that the guests, seeing their infamous spittle and snot, should give up eating
the foods set out, and everything be left to these filthy spitters and snivelers.

Almost like it, but not so abominable, is the story they tell us of the fresh-
water doctor,'s nephew of the late Amer's lawyer, who used to say that a fat
capon's wing was bad, the rump dangerous, the neck pretty good provided the skin
was removed, so that patients should not have any and the whole thing be preserv-
ed for his mouth. Thus have these befrocked devils done, seeing everyone in fer-
vent appetite to see and read his writings because of the preceding books: they
have spitten in the basin; that is to say, they have all by their handling be-
shitten, decried, and calumniated them, with the intention that no one should
read them except their Dastardships [leurs Poiltronitez], which I have seen with
my own eyes, not just with my ears; indeed-to the point-of preserving them rel-
igiously in their nightclothes and using them like breviaries for their daily
use. They have taken them away from the sick, the gouties, the unfortunate, for
whom I had written them to cheer them up in their trouble. If I took on as pa-
tients all those who fell into disability or illness, there would be no longer
any need to bring such books into light and print.

Hippocrates wrote a book expressly entitled: Of the condition of the perfect
doctor (Galen illustrated it with learned commentaries), in which he commands
that nothing about the doctor?indeed even to the fingernails must please and
delight the patient. To do this in my own case,I in my lowly way, I labor and
strain, toward those I take on as patients. So do my colleagues for their part;
wherefore we may be called charlatans with long arms and big elbows,'' in the
opinion, as crazily interpreted as stupidly invented, of two hunters of tiny
turds.

There is more: over a passage in the sixth of the Epidemics of the said father
Hippocrates we sweat and dispute to determine, not whether a doctor's face that
is gloomy, cross, harsh, unpleasant, unhappy, saddens the patient, and a doc-
tor's face that is joyous, serene, pleasant, laughing, open, rejoices the pat-
ient (that is all tested and certain), but whether such saddenings and rejoic-
ings come about by the patient's apprehension and in contemplating these qual-
ities, or by the transfusion of the serene or darksome, joyous or sad spirits,
from the doctor to the patient, as is the opinion of the Platonists and Aver-
rhoists.

So since it is not possible for me to be called in by all the sick, for me to
take on all the sick as patients, why do they want to take away from the lan-
guishing and sick the pleasure and joyous pastime, with no offense to God, to
the King, or to anyone else that they take in hearing in my absence the read-
ing of these joyous books?

Now, since by your adjudication and decree these backbiters and calumniators
are seized and possessed of the old quarters of the moon, I forgive them. It
won't be any laughing matter for them all, henceforth, when we see these luna-
tic fools, some of them lepers, some buggers, some others both lepers and bug-
gers at the same time, running about the fields, breaking the benches [i.e.,
going bankrupt], gnashing their teeth, sphiting cobblestones, pounding the
pavements, hanging themselves, drowning themselves, hurling themselves down
head first, and running off unbridled to all the devils according to the ener-
gy, faculty, and power of the quarters (of the moon) they have in their nog-
gins, crescent, initial, amphicyritic, on the wane, and closing.

Only toward their malignities and impostures I shall make use of the offer
that Timon the Misanthrope made to his ungrateful Athenians. Timon, vexed at
the ingratitude of the Athenian people in his regard, one day entered the pub-
lic council of the city, asking to be given a hearing on a matter of business
concerning the public welfare. At his request there was silence in expecta-
tion of hearing matters of importance, seeing that he, who for so many years
had absented himself from all company and who lived in privacy, had come to
the council. Thereupon he said to them:

"Outside my private garden, beneath the wall, it is a great handsome notable
fig tree, from which, when desperate, you Athenian gentlemen, women, youths,
and maidens have the custom of strangling yourselves in privacy. I give you
notice that, to make my house more comfortable, I am planning within a week
to take down that fig tree; therefore any one of you in the whole city who
will have a mind to hang himself should hurry and get on with it promptly;
when the aforesaid term has expired they will not have so suitable a place
or so convenient a tree."

Following his example, I proclaim to all these diabolical calumniators that
they are all to hang themselves I assign between noon and Faverolles.17 With
the new moon, they will not be received there at such a bargain price and
will be constrained themselves at their own expense to buy ropes and choose
a tree for hanging,' as did Signora Leontium,18 calumniator of the ever so
learned and eloquent Theophrastus.



Liminary Epistle
(of January 28, 1552)


To the Very Illustrious Prince and Most Reverend
Monseigneur Odet, Cardinal de Chastillon.'


You are duly notified, most illustrious Prince, by how many great personages
I have been and am daily asked, requested, and importuned for the continuation
of the Pantagruelic mythologies,'- on the grounds that many languishing, ill,
or otherwise vexed and heart-sick people had, in the reading thereof, beguiled
their troubles, passed time joyously, and received new blitheness and conso-
lation. To whom it is my custom to reply that, in composing these for sport,
I aspired to no glory or praise; I had intended and had regard only to give
in writing what little relief I could to the absent sufferers and sick, which
gladly, when there is need, I give to those who take help from my craft and
service.

Sometimes I expound to them by lengthy reasoning how Hippocrates, in many
places, especially in the sixth book of his Epidemics, describing the training
of his doctor disciple, and how Soranus of Ephesus, Orib asius, Cl. Galen,
Hali Abbas, likewise other subsequent authors, have composed him in gestures,
bearing, glance, touch, look, grace, decency, neatness of face, clothes, beard,
hair, hands, mouth, even going into detail about the fingernails, as if he
were about to play the part of some lover or suitor in some notable comedy,
or go down into an enclosed tiltyard to fight some powerful enemy. Indeed,
the practice of medicine is quite aptly compared by Hippocrates to a combat
and farce played by three personae: the patient, the doctor, and the illness.'

Once in reading this passage, I was reminded of a remark of Julia to her fath-
er Octavian Augustus. One day she presented herself before hint in sumptuous,
dissolute, lascivious garments, and had greatly displeased him, although he
said not a word about it. The next day she changed her attire and dressed her-
self modestly, as was then the custom of chaste Roman ladies. So dressed she
presented herself before him. He, who the day before had not declared in words
the displeasure he had in seeing her in shameless clothing, could not conceal
the pleasure he took in seeing her thus changed, and said to her: "O, how much
more fitting and praiseworthy is this clothing for the daughter of Augustus!"
She had her excuse promptly and answered him: "Today I dressed for the eyes
of my father. Yesterday I was dressed for the pleasure of my husband."

Similarly the doctor, thus disguised in face and clothes, especially if dress-
ed in a rich and pleasing gown with four sleeves,4 as once used to be the reg-
ular custom (and it was called Philonium, as Petrus Alexandrinus says in Epi-
demics, chapter 6), could reply to those who might find the costume strange:
"Thus have I clad myself, not to show off and strut, but for the taste of the
patient I am visiting, whom alone I want to please entirely, not offend or
vex him in any way."

There is more. Over a passage of father Hippocrates in the book cited above
[Epidemics 6],' we sweat, seeking and arguing, not whether the doctor's mien
that is gloomy, cross, harsh, Catonian, unpleasant, unhappy, saddens the pa-
tient, and the doctor's face that is joyous, open, pleasant, rejoices the pa-
tient; all that is tested and certain; but whether such saddenings and rejoic-
ings come about by the patient's apprehen-sion in contemplating these quali-
ties in the doctor and by these conjec-turing the outcome and catastrophe
[result] to follow from the malady: to wit, by the joyous ones, joyous and
desired, by the unpleasant ones unpleasant and abhorrent; or by the transfu-
sions of spirits that are serene or darksome, airy or earthy, from the doctor
into the person of the patient. As is the opinion of Plato and Averroes.

Above all, the aforesaid authors give special notice to the doctor about the
words, conversations, and confabulations he should have with the patients on
whose behalf he is called in. This must all lead and tend to one end: that
is to gladden him without offense to God and not to sadden him in any way
whatever. As Hierophilus greatly blames a doctor, Callianax, who, to a pa-
tient who questioned him and asked him: "Will I die?" impudently replied:

So had Patroclus to bid life adieu,
Who surely was a better man than you.'

To another one, who wanted to know the state of his illness and questioned
him in the manner of the noble Pathelin:

... can you deny
My urine shows that I'm about to die?"

He replied witlessly: "Not if Latona, mother of the lovely children Phoebus
and Diana, had given girth to you." Likewise Galen, Book 4, Comment. in 6 Ep-
idemi., greatly' blames Quintus, his tutor in medicine, who, when a patient
in Rome, an honorable man, said to him: "Master, you've had lunch, your
breath smells of wine," arrogantly replied to him: "Yours smells of fever;
which has the more delightful odor, fever or wine?"

But the calumny of certain cannibals, misanthropes, agelastes against me had
been so. "atrocious and irrational that it had vanquished my patience, and I
was determined not to write on e more jot of this. For one of slightest
contumelies they used was that such books were full of divers heresies;' how-
ever, they could not point to a single one in any place whatever--of joyous
fooleries, without offense to God or to the king, that's true--that's the
sole subject and theme of these books: Of heresies, [there are] none, un-
less by interpreting perversely and against all use of reason and ordinary
language what I would not want even to have thought, on pain of dying a thou-
sand deaths, if that were possible; as if someone interpreted bread as stone,
fish as snake, egg as scorpion."

Complaining of which once, in your presence, I told you freely that if I did
not think myself a better Christian than for their part they show themselves
to be, and if in my life, writings, words, and even thoughts, I recognized one
scintilla of heresy, they would not be falling so detestably into the snares
of the spirit of calumny, that AtciPoXoc [Diabolos, the Devil], who by their
calumny seek to incite me to such a crime; I myself, after the example of the
phoenix, would pile up the dry wood and light the fire to burn me in it.

Then you told me that the late King Francis, of eternal memory, had been in-
formed of such calumnies; and having carefully heard and understood a distinct
reading of these books of mine by the most learned and faithful reader in the
kingdom (I say this because some infamous false ones have been wickedly im-
puted to me), had found no suspect passage whatever; and had held in horror
some serpent-eater who was basing a mortal heresy on an N put for an M by the
fault and negligence of the printers.

So had his son, so good, virtuous, and heaven-blessed, Henry (whom God will
keep a long time for us), so that he had granted you for me a privilege and
particular protection against the calumniators. This evangel you in your be-
nignity have since reiterated,to me in Paris, and furthermore when not so
long ago you visited My Lord Cardinal du Bellay, who, to recover his health
after a long troublesome illness, had retired to Saint-Maur,)a place, or (to
speak better and more aptly) a paradise of salubrity, serenity, comfort, and
all the honorable pleasures of agriculture and rustic life:

This is the reason, My Lord, why now, free from all intimidation, I toss my
pen to the wind [je mectz la plume au vent], hoping that by your benign favor
you will be to me like a second Gaulish Hercules in knowledge, prudence, and
eloquence; Alexicacos'° in virtue, power, and authority of whom verily I can
say what was said of Moses, the great prophet and captain of Israel, by the
wise King Solomon [Ecclesiasticus 45.1-5], a man fearing and loving God, be-
loved of God and men, whose memory is happy. God in praise compared him to
the Worthies, made him great in striking terror into his enemies. In his favor
He performed prodigies and frightful things; in the presence of kings He hon-
ored him; to the people by him He declared His will, and by him He showed His
light. In faith and kindness He consecrated and elected him among all humans.
By him He willed His voice to be heard, and to those who were in darkness
willed the law of life-giving knowledge to be announced.

Promising you moreover that all those I meet rejoicing in these writings I
will adjure to be totally grateful for them to you, to pray Our Lord for the
preservation and growth of that mighty stature of yours, but that they should
give me credit for nothing more than humble subjection and willing obedience
to your commands. For by your highly honorable urging you gave me both cou-
rage and inven-tiveness, and without you my heart and animal spirits had re-
mained dried up. May Our Lord keep you in His holy grace. From Paris, this
28th of January, 1552.

Your very humble and obedient servant,

Franc. RABELAIS, physician



Prologue of the Author
　　　　M. Francois Rabelais
For the fourth book of the heroic deeds and sayings
　　　　　　　of Pantagruel.


To READERS OF GOOD WILL.

Good people, God save and guard you! Wait till I put my glasses on?my feet!'
Sweet and fair Lent goes its way!' I do see you. And then what? You've had a
good vintage, from what they tell me. I wouldn't be one bit sorry about it.
You've found an inexhaustible remedy against all thirsts. That's mighty fine
work. You, your wives, children, relatives, and families, lies, are in the
health youwish? That's nice going. That's good. I like that. God, the good
God, be eternally praised for it, and (if such is His holy will) may you be
long maintained in it.

As for me, by His holy benignity I'm the same way, and I commend myself to
Him.4 I am, thanks to a little Pantagruelism (you understand that that's a
certain gayety of spirit confected in disdain for fortuitous things), health-
y and sprightly, ready to drink, if you wish. Do you ask me why, good folk?
Irrevocable answer: such is the will of the very good, very great God, in
which I acquiesce, which I obey, whose sacrosanct word of good news I revere,
that's the Gospel, in which it is said [Luke 4.23], with horrible sarcasm
and biting derision, to a doctor negligent of his own health: "Physician,
heal thyself!"

Cl. Galen maintained himself in health not for such reverence, although he
had some feeling for the Holy Bible and had known and frequented the holy
Christians of his time, as appears from Book 2, De differentiis pulsuum,
chapter 3, and ibid., Book 3, chapter 2; and the book De rerum affectibus
(if it is by Galen); but for fear of falling prey to this vulgar and satiric
mockery:5

'11-1-rpos aXXwi-', du-roc EXXE6L Pp.Ocov.

Although he treats others to good effect,
His running sores attest his self-neglect.

So that with great bravado he boasts, and he doesn't want to be esteemed a
doctor unless, from his twenty-eighth year until his ripe old age, he has
lived in full health, except for a few fevers lasting only a day or so, al-
though he was not by nature one of the healthiest and had an unruly stomach.
"For," he says, Books of De sanitate tuenda [On preserving health] a doctor
will not easily be thought to take good care of the health of others who is
neglectful of his own."

Vaunting himself with even more bravado was Asclepiades, a doctor, for hav-
ing come to this pact with Fortune, that he should be reputed no doctor if
he had ever been sick from the time he began to practice his craft until his
final old age, which he reached whole, and vigorous in all his members, and
triumphing over Fortune. Finally without any preceding illness, he made the
exchange of life for death, by inadvertence in falling from atop some ill-
mortised and rotted steps.

If by some disaster Health has emancipated herself from your lordships, a-
bove, beneath, to the right, to the left, within, without, far from your ter-
ritories or near them, wherever she may be, may you, with the help of the
blessed Savior, promptly come upon her! Fortunately come upon by you, may
she be affirmed on the spot, claimed, seized, repossessed, and taken back by
you! The laws allow you this, the king intends it, I advise it; no more nor
less than the ancient legislators authorized the lord to claim his fugitive
serf wherever he was found. 'Odsbodikins!' Isn't it written and practiced,
by the ancient customs of this most noble, most ancient, most beautiful,
most flourishing, most rich kingdom of France, that the dead man seizes the
quick? See what was recently expounded about it by the good, learned, wise,
most humane, most kind and equitable Andre Tiraqueau, counselor to the great,
victorious, and triumphant King Henry, second of that name, in that most re-
doubtable Court of the Parlement de Paris. Health is our life, as Ariphron of
Sicyon very well declared [comme tres bien declare]. Without health life is
not life, life is not livable: dikos Pios, 1310S d131urroc [Aristrophanes
Plutus 969]. Without health life is nothing but languor; life is but the sim-
ulacrum of death. So then you, when deprived of health (that is to say dead),
seize the quick,seize life, that is, death:

I have this hope in God, that He will hear our prayer, seeing the firm faith
in which we offer them, and will fulfill this wish of ours, seeing that it
is moderate.; Moderation was called golden by the ancient sages, that is to
say precious, praised by all, in all places agreable. Run through the Holy
Bible, you will find that never have the prayers been denied of those who
asked for moderate things. An example of it is little Zacchaeus, whose body
and relics the Musafis of Saint-Ayl near Orleans boast of having, and they
call him Saint Sylvanus. He wanted, and nothing more, to see our blessed
Savior near Jerusalem. That was a moderate thing and available to everyone.
But he was too small, and amid the throng he could not. He hops up and down,
he trots to and fro, he strains; he goes off; he climbs a sycamore tree. The
all-good God recognized his sincere and moderate desire, appeared to his
sight, and not only was seen but heard by him, visited his house, and blessed
his family.

A son of a prophet in Israel splitting wood near the river Jordan, had the
head of his axe slip off (as is written in 4, Reg. 6) [i.e., II Kings 6.1- 7],
and it fell into this river. He prayed God to be willing to return it to him.
This is a moderate thing; and in firm faith and confidence he threw in, not
the head after the handle, as the censorious devils say in a scandalous sole-
cism, but the handle after the head, as you properly say. Promptly two mira-
cles appeared. The axe-head rose out of the depths of the water and it fitted
itself onto the handle. If he had made a wish to rise up to the heavens in a
flaming chariot like Elisha, to multiply in lineage like Abraham, to be as rich
as Job, as strong as Samson, as handsome as Absalom, would he have gotten
it? This is a question.

Speaking of moderate wishes in the matter of hatches (have an eye to when it's
time to drink), I'll tell you what is written in the Fables of Aesop the French-
man, I mean Phrygian and Trojan, as Max. Planudes affirms, from which people,
according to the most faithful chroniclers, are descended the noble French."
Aelian writes that he was a Thracian; Agathias, after Herodotus, that he was a
Samian; it's all one to me.

In his time there was a poor villager, born in Gravot, named Couillatris,9 a
feller of trees and splitter of wood, and in this low estate, after a fashion,
earning his poor living. It came to pass that he lost his hatchet. Who do you
suppose was mighty vexed and unhappy? He was, for on his hatchet depended
his welfare and his life; by his hatchet he lived in honor and repute among all
well-to-do woodchoppers; without a hatchet he would have died of hunger.
Six days later, death, finding him without a hatchet, would have reaped and
weeded him out of this world.

In this plight he began to cry out, implore, invoke Jupiter by very eloquent
prayers (as you know. Necessity was the inventor of Eloquence), raising his
face toward the heavens, knee on the ground, head bare, hands high in the
air, fingers spread, in every refrain of his prayers saying indefatigably
in a loud voice:

"My hatchet, Jupiter! My hatchet, my hatched nothing more, O Jupiter, than
my hachet or pennies to buy another! Alas, my poor hatchet!" Jupiter was
holding a council on certain urgent matters, and just then old Cybele, or
else bright young Phoebus, was giving an opinion. But so loud was Couilla-
tris's outcry that it was heard as a great racket in the full council and
consistory of the gods. "What devil," asked Jupiter, "is that down there
howling so horrifically? By the powers of the Styx, haven't we been, aren't
we still, troubled enough with more important and disputed matters? We've
settled the dispute between ['rester John, king of the Persians, and Sultan
Sulayman. emperor of Constantinople. We've closed the split between the Tar-
tan and the Muscovites. We've responded to the request of the sheriff. So
have we to the prayer of Guolgotz Rays. The status of Parma is settled.' So
is that of Magdeburg. Mirandola, and Africa (so mortals call the place on
the Mediterranean that we call Aphrodisium)." By careless guarding Tripoli
has changed masters; its time had come." Here are the Gascons repenting [or
swearing: renians] and asking for the restoration of their bells."

In this corner are the Saxons, Eastedings, Ostrogoths, and Germans, peoples
once invincible, now aberkeids [German. "villified"], and subjugated by a
little man all crippled [Charles VI." They're asking us for vengeance, help,
restitution of their original good sense and liberty. But what shall we do
with this Ramus and this Galland, who, swathed in their scullions, hangers-
on, and toadies, are stirring up this entire Academy of Paris? I'm in great
perplexity about it and still haven't decided which way I should lean. Both
seem to me in other respects good fellows and well-hung [bons compaignons et
bien couilluz]. One has sun-crowns, I mean fair and weighty be diz beaulz et
trcsbuchans]; the other would very much like to have some. One has some
learning; the other is not ignorant. One is a shrewd sly fox; the other a
slanderer with tongue and pen, yapping against the ancient philosophers, like
a dog. How does it seem to you, you great donkey-prick Priapus? I have often
found your counsel equitable and pertinent: "et habet rasa mcntula mentem
[And your penis has a mind]."

"King Jupiter," said Priapus, unwrapping his hood, his head raised, flaming
and assured, "since the one you compare to a barking dog, the other to a
shrewd sly fox, my advice is that without vexing or troubling yourself fur-
ther you do with them what you once did with a dog and a fox."

"What?" asked Jupiter. "When? Who were they? Where was this?"

"O what a great memory!" replied Priapus. "This venerable father Bacchus that
you see there with his crimson face, to revenge himself on the Thebans, had
made a fox enchanted [um renard feel in such a way that whatever hann or dam-
age he did, he would not be caught or hurt by any other animal in the world.
That noble Vulcan wrought a dog of Monesian brass, and by dint of hard breath-
ing made him alive and animate. He gave him to you; you gave him to your cutie
Europa; she gave him to Minos; Minos, to Procris, finally Procris gave him to
Cephalus. He was likewise enchanted: in such a way that, like today's advocate,
he would catch every animal he met; nothing would escape him. It came about
that they met. What did they do? The dog by his fated destiny was bound to
catch the fox; the fox by his destiny was bound not to be caught.

"The case was reported to your council. You protested that you would not con-
travene the destinies. The destinies were contradictory. The truth, the end,
the result of two contradictories was declared by nature impossible. You sweat-
ed with strain from it. From your sweat falling on the ground there sprang up
round-headed cabbage [les choux cabutz]. All that noble consistory, for lack
of a clear-cut resolution, incurred wondrous thirst, and in that council was
drunk up more than seventy-eight puncheons of nectar. On my advice you turned
them both to stones. Immediately you were out of all perplexity; immediately
a truce on thirst was proclaimed atop this great Olympus. This was the year
of the soft ballocks," near Teumesse, between Thebes and Chakis.

"On this model, my advice is that you petrify this dog and fox; the metamor-
phosis is not unknown. They both bear the name Peter," and because, according
to the Limousins' proverb, three stones are needed to make the mouth of an
oven, you will associate them with Master Pierre du Coignet, once petrified
by you for the same causes. And these three dead stones will be placed, in the
form of an equilateral triangle, in the middle of the porch of the great tem-
ple of Paris, with the function of putting out with their noses, as in the game
of Fouquet," lighted candles, torches, tapers, and flares; they who when alive
ballockwise lit the fire of faction, enmity, ballockish sects, and partisanship
among the idle schoolboys, in perpetual remembrance that in your eyes these
little ballock-shaped egos [philauties couillonniformes] were rather contemned
than condemned. I have spoken."

"You're favoring them." said Jupiter, "from what I see. fair Messer Priapus.
You are not that favorable to all. For, seeing that they crave to perpetuate
their names and memory, for them it would be much better to be thus convened
after life into marble stones than into rot and earth. Behind here, toward that
Tyrrhenian Sea and the places around the Apennines, you see the tragedies that
are being aroused by certain pastophores? This madness will last its time,
like Limoges ovens, then will end but not soon. We'll have much sport from it.
I see one drawback: that we have a scant supply of lightning bolts since the
time when you fellow gods of mine, by my special permission, kept throwing
them unstintingly, for your sport, on the new Antioch." Since then, following
your example, the foppish champions who undertook to guard the fortress of
Dindenarois against all comers used up all their ammunition in shooting at
moineaux;= they did not have the wherewithal in time of need to defend them-
selves, and valiantly gave up the place and surrendered to the enemy, who were
already raising their siege as utterly crazy and hopeless, and had no more ur-
gent thought than their own retreat, with only utter shame for company. See to
this matter, son Vulcan! waken your sleeping Cyclope, Asteropes. Brontes. Arges.
Polyphemus. Steropes, Pyracmon! Set them to work and have them drink their fill.
O workers with fire you must never spare the wine. Now let's take are of that
howler down there. Mercury, sec who it is and find out what he's asking for."

Mercury looks out the trapdoor of heaven, by which they listen to what people
are saying down here on earth; and it really looks like a ship's scuttle (Ica-
romenippe used to say it looks like the mouth of a well (a la gueule d'un
puiz]); and he sees that it's Couillatris asking for his lost hatchet, and re-
ports this to the council. "Really." says Jupiter, "we're in fine shape! At
this time we have nothing to do but give back lost hatchets? Yet give it back
to him we must: that is written in the book of Destinies, do you understand?
Just as well as if it were the Duchy of Milan. Indeed, his hatchet is to him
in just such pride and esteem as to a king his kingdom would be. Here now,
here now, have this hatchet returned to him! Let's have no more talk about it
Let's resolve the quarrel between the clergy and the mole-catchery of Lander-
ousse. Where were we?"

Priapus remained standing in the chimney corner. On hearing Mer-cury's report,
he said in all courtesy and jovial seemliness:

"King Jupiter, in the time when, by your order and particular benefice, I was
guardian of the gardens on earth. I noted that the term coingnee [modern cognee]
is ambiguous, meaning several things. It means (or of old it meant) the female
fully ripe and frequently copiocopulated [gimbrailetolletke]; and I saw what
each good fellow called his merry girlfriend ma coingnee. For with this naked
steel (this he said exhibiting his half-cubit knocker) they knock up their eye-
holes (leurs etnnianchouoinj so fiercely that these girls remain exempt from a
fear endemic among the female sex, that these [eye-holes], for lack of clamps,
may fall out of their belly down into their heels. And I remember (for I have
a mentula, or rather I mean a memory) quite fair and big enough to fill a but-
ter-pot), one day long ago, during the Tubilustria, at the festival of that
good Vulcan in May. hearing Josquin des Prez, Olkeghem, Obrecht, Agricola,
Brumel, Ca' melin, Vigoris. La Fage. Bruyer, Prioris, Seguin, De la Rue, Midy,
Moulu, Mouton, Gascogne, Loyset. Compere. Penet, Fevin, Routh, Richardfort,
Rousseau, Conseil, Costanzo Festt. Jacques Berchem. singing melodiously:

When Big Tibault a newlywed,
Wanting to make love to his bride,
Brought along with him into bed
A battle-axe he sought to hide,
"O my sweet love," his lady cried,
"What is that axe for that I see?"
"That is to split you with," said he.
"An axe?" said she; "there is no need:
When Big John comes to work on me,
With just his ass he does the deed.""

"Nine Olympiads and one intercalary year (O lovely mentula, or rather memory!
I often commit a solecism in the concurrence and connection between these two
words), I heard Adrien Willaert, Gombert, Jannequin, Arcadelt. Claudin, Certon,
Manchicourt, Auxerre. Villiers, Sandrin, Soler, Hesdin, Morales, Passercau,
Maine, Maillart, Jacotin, Heurteur, Verdelot. Carpentras, Lharitier, Caddie,
Doublet, Vermont, Bouteiller, Lupi, Papier, Millet, du Moulin, Make, Mundt.
Morpain, Gendre, and other joyous musicians in a private garden. under a love-
ly arbor, surrounding a rampart of flagons, hams, pasties, and divers well-
coiffed chicks, charmingly singing:

If it is true an axe-head is no use
Without a hafi, a tool unless it's gripped,
So I may fit you well and not come loose.
Let me be the handle, and you shall be clipped."

"Now we still need to know which sort of coingnee this howler Couillatris
is asking for."

At these words all the venerable gods and goddesses burst out laughing like
a microcosm of flies." Vulcan, with his crookshank, for love of his lady-
friend, did three or four nice little platform jumps."

"Here now, here now," said Jupiter to Mercury, "go down there right now, and
throw at Couillatris's feet three hatchets, massive, all of the same caliber
his own, another of gold, a third of silver. If he takes his own and is con-
tent with it. give him the two others. If he takes one other than his own,
cut off his head with his own. And from now on do thus with all these hatchet-
losers."

These words completed. Jupiter. swiveling his head around like a monkey swall-
owing pills made such a frightful grimace that all great Olympus trembled.

Mercury, with his pointed cap, his flat round hat, his heel-wings, and his
caducee [staff or wand]," casts himself out the trapdoor of the heavens,
cleaves the empty air, alights gently on earth, throws the three hatchets
at Couillauis's feet, then says to him: "You've yelled long enough to have
a drink. Your prayers are answered by Jupiter. Take a look, see which of
these is your hatchet, and take it away." Couillatris hefts the golden hatch-
et, looks at it, and finds it very heavy; then says to Mercury: "I swan,"
this one sure ain't mine. I don't want any part of it." He does as much with
the silver hatchet, and says to him: "It's not this one: this is all yours."
Then he takes in his hand the wooden one; he looks at the handle, and thereon
recognizes his mark; and, all trembling with joy like a fox on encountering
some stray chickens, with his face all wreathed in smiles, he says: "Turd
of God!" This one was mine! If you'll let me have it, I'll sacrifice to you
a fine big pot of milk all covered with strawberries on the Ides (that's the
fiftenth day) of May." "Good man," said Mercury, "I leave it to you, take it.
And because you wished for and chose moderation in the matter of hatchets,
by the will of Jupiter I give you these two others. You have enough to make
you rich from now on; be a good man."

Couillatris courteously thanks Mercury, reveres great Jupiter. fastens his
old hatchet onto his leather belt, and girds it over his tail like Martin
of Cambria. The two other, heavier ones, he loads over his neck. Thus he
goes galumphing" around the countryside, beaming at his neighbors and fel-
low parishioners, and asking Pathelin's little question: "Do I ever have
some?"" The next day, wearing a clean white jacket, he loads onto his back
the two precious hatchets, betakes himself to Chinon, a notable, ancient
town, indeed the first in the world, according to the judgment of the most
learned Massoretes. In Chinon he exchanges his silver hatchet for fair
testoons and other white (silver) coins; his gold hatchet for lovely angel
crowns, long-wooled sheep, fair Agnus Dei crowns, fine Dutch titters, hand-
some royals, nice sun-crowns. With them he buys many summer houses, barns,
meadows, vineyards, woods. arable pastures, ponds. mills, gardens, willow
groves; oxen, cows, ewes, sheep, nannygoats, sows, hogs, donkeys, horses,
hens, roosters, capons, chickens, geese, ganders, drakes, ducks, and small
fowl. In a short time he was the richest man in the region, even more so
than lame Maulevrier.

The "francs gontiers et Jacques Bonshoms" (merry lads and yokels] of the
neighborhood. seeing this lucky strike (ceste heureuse rencontre] of Couill-
atris's, were quite flabbergasted; and in their spirits the pity and com-
miseration in which earlier they had held Couillatris were changed to envy
of such great and unexpected riches of his. And they began to run about,
inquire, and pry, to find out by what means, in what place, on what day,
at what time, apropos of what, this great treasure had come to him. On hear-
ing that it was by having lost his hatchet. "ho ho ho!" said they, "was the
loss of a hatchet all it took for us to be rich? That's an easy way and
costs little. And so at the present moment is the revolution of the hea-
vens, the constellation of the stars, such that whoever loses a hatchet
will thus immediately get rich? Ho, ho. ha! By God, hatchet, you shall be
lost, and no offense."

Thereupon they all lost their hatchets. Devil take the one who had a
hatchet left! There was no son of a good mother who did not lost his
hatchet. No more wood was felled in the region, for lack of hatchets.

The Aesopic fable says that certain little no-account Jumblemen Uan-
spill'honunes], who had sold Couillatris the little meadow and the lit-
tle mill so as to show off better at the periodic review, when informed
that this treasure had come to him thus and by this means alone, sold
their swords in order to buy hatchets, so as to lose them. You would
naturally have supposed that they were Romilthes, selling what was
theirs, borrowing from others, in order to buy mandamuse (indulgences]
from a newly chosen pope. And yelling, and praying, and lamenting, and
invoking Jupiter: "My hatchet, my hatchet, Jupiter! My hatchet here, my
hatchet there, my hatchet, ho, ho, ho, ho! Jupiter, my hatchet!" All a-
round, the air resounded with the cries and howls of these hatchet-
losers.

Mercury was quick to bring the hatchets, offering to each one his own
lost one, another of gold, and a third of silver. All chose the gold one
and picked it up, thanking the great giver Jupiter; but at the moment when
they lifted it off the ground, while bowed and bent over, Mercury cut off
their head according to the edict of Jupiter. And the number of heads cut
off was equal and corresponding to (that of) the hatchets lost.

That's the way it is, that's what happens to those who in simplicity wish
for moderate things [choses mediocres]. Take this as an example, you
lowland wiseacres [gualliers de plat pays], who say that not for ten thou-
sand francs a year would you give up your wishes; and henceforth don't
talk so impudently, as I've sometimes heard you wishing: "Would God I
had right now a hundred and seventy-eight millions in gold! O, how I'd
triumph!" A bad case of chilblains to you! What more would a king, an
emperor, a pope want?

And so you see by experience that when you've made such excessive
wishes, you get nothing but the ague and the scab, and not a penny for
your purse; any more than those two beggars, Paris-style wishers, one of
whom wished to have as much in sun-crowns as has been spent, bought,
and sold in Paris from the time they laid the first foundations to build it
right down to the present time; the entire amount estimated at the rate,
sale, and value of the dearest year that has passed in that space of time.
Had this man lost his appetite, do you think? Had he eaten sour plums
without peeling them? Were his teeth set on edge?32 The other one
wanted the temple of Notre-Dame to be filled chock-full of steel-tipped
needles from the floor to the topmost point of the vaults, and to have as
many sun-crowns as could be put in as many sacks as could be sewn with
each and every needle, until they were all broken or blunted. That's a
wish for you, that is! What do you think of it? What came of it? That
evening each one of them had chilblains on his heels,

A sore where chin and jawbone met,
A cough that wheezing lungs repeat,
Catarrh in throat, and, to complete
The mess, a boil upon the seat.

And the devil with the old hunk of bread to scour your teeth with!'

So wish for a moderate lot: it will come to you, and all the better,
meanwhile toiling and working.

"All right," you say, "but God might just as well have given me sev-
enty-eight thousand as the thirteenth part of a half, for He is almighty:
a million in gold is as little to him as an obol." Heydeho! And who taught
you to discourse this way and talk about the power and predestination of
God, you poor folk? Peace! Sh, sh, sh! humble yourselves before His holy
face, and recognize your imperfections."

That, gouties is what I base my hope on, and I firmly believe that, if the
good God please, you will obtain health. Wait a little longer, with half an
ounce of patience. Thus the Genoese do not do when in the morning, in
their offices and counting-houses, having gone over, planned, and de-
cided from whom and what sort of folk they can extract money that day,
and who by their wiles shall be fleeced, rooked, tricked, and cheated,
they go out in public, and in greeting one another say Sanita a guadain,
messer.35 They do not rest content with health; much more, they wish for
gain, indeed the gold crowns of Guadaigne.36 Wherefore it often comes
about that they get neither one. Now, in good health cough one good
cough, drink three drinks, give your ears a cheery shake, and you shall
hear wonders about the good and noble Pantagruel.



CHAPTER 1


How Pantagruel put out to sea
to visit the oracle of the divine Bacbuc.


IN the month of June, on the day of the Vestalia festival, the very one
on which Brutus conquered Spain and subjugated the Spaniards, on which
also the miserly Crassus was defeated and crushed by the Parthians,
Pantagruel, taking leave of his father the good Gargantua, while he
[Gargantua] earnestly prayed (as was the laudable custom among the
saintly Christians of the primitive Church), for a prosperous voyage for
his son and all his company, put to sea at the port of Thalasse, accom-
panied by Panurge, Frere Jean des Entommeures, Epistemon, Gymnaste,
Eusthenes, Rhizotome, Carpalim, and others of his old servants and do-
mestics; also by Xenomanes, the great traveler across perilous routes, who
had arrived some days before at Panurge's command. This man, for good
and sure reasons had mapped out and left for Gargantua, in his great
universal hydrography, the route they would take in visiting the oracle of
the divine bottle Bacbuc.

The number of ships was such as I exposed to you in the Third Book,
with a convoy of triremes, long barges, galleons, and Libernian galleys
[feluccas], of the same number, well equipped, well calked, well provi-
sioned, with an abundance of Pantagruelion. The assembly of all the
officers, interpreters, pilots, captains, seamen, mate-oarsmen, and sailors,
was held on the Thalamege. Thus was named Pantagruel's great flagship,
which had on its stern as an ensign a great ample bottle, half of smooth
polished silver, the other half of gold enameled in flesh color. Whereby it
was easy to judge that white and claret were the colors of the noble
travelers and that they were going in order to get the word of the Bottle.
On the stern of the second ship was raised aloft an antiquated lantern,
meticulously wrought of transparent and reflecting stone, signifying that
they would pass Lanternland.

The third had as its device a fine deep porcelain tankard.

The fourth, a two-handled gold pot, as if it was an antique urn.

The fifth, a notable flagon made of coarse emerald.

The sixth, a huge monkish horn-shaped drinking mug made of the four metals
together.

The seventh, an ebony funnel all embossed and encrusted with gold.

The eighth, a very precious ivy goblet gold-beaten damascene style.

The ninth, a toasting-glass of fine tried gold.

The tenth, a drinking cup of fragrant Agalloche (you call it aloe wood),
laced with Cypriot gold, azzimino work.

The eleventh, a grape vat of mosaic work.

The twelfth, a firkin of pale gold covered with a little vine of great
Indian pearls, topiary work.

So that there was no one, however sad, vexed, sullen, or melancholy he
might be, indeed not even weeping Heraclitus were he here, who would not
have rejoiced afresh and smiled in good humor, seeing this noble convoy
of ships with their devices, and would not have judged as a sure prog-
nostic that the trip, both going and returning, would be completed in
blitheness and health.

So in the Thalamege was held the assembly of all. There Pantagruel made
them a short holy exhortation, all supported with passages drawn from
the Holy Scripture, on the subject of navigation. With that finished,
prayers were said loud and clear to God, heard and understood by all the
burghers and citizens of Thalasse, who had come flocking up to the pier
to watch the embarkation.

After the prayer, there was a melodious singing of the psalm of the holy
King David that begins: "When Israel came out of Egypt."' Whcn the psalm
was finished, tables were set up on the bridge and the food brought out
promptly. The Thalassians, who had also sung the aforesaid psalm, had
many victuals and winery brought. All drank to them. They drank to all.
That was the reason why no one in the assembly threw up when at sea or
had any disturbance in stomach or head. Which troubles would not have
been obviated so conveniently by drinking sea water for a few days be-
forehand, either pure or mixed with wine; or by using the flesh of
quinces, or lemon peel, or juice of bittersweet pomegranates; or keep-
ing on a long diet; or by covering their stomach with paper; or doing
what foolish doctors prescribe for them for going to sea.

When their nips had been repeated, each man went back to his ship; and
at a good time they set sail to a Greek easterly wind, according to which
their fleet admiral [pilot principal], James Brayer by name, had mapped
out the route and set the needles of the compasses. For his. advice, and
that of Xenomanes as well, seeing that the oracle of the divine Bacbuc
was near Cathay, in upper India, was not to take the ordinary route of
the Portuguese, who, crossing the Torrid Zone and rounding the Cape of
Good Hope on the southern tip of Africa, beyond the Equinoctial [the
Equator], and losing the sight and guidance of the Pole Star [North Star],
make an enormous trip; but to follow as closely as possible the parallel
of the said India, and turn about the said pole to the westward, so that
winding under the North [Star], they should have it at the same elevation
as at the port of Olonne, without coming any nearer to it for fear of en-
tering and being caught in the Glacial [Arctic] Sea.

And following this canonical way around the same parallel, they would
have it on the right, toward the Orient, which at their departure was on
their left. This turned out to their inestimable advantage, for without
shipwreck, without danger, with no loss of their men, in great serenity
(except for one day near the island of the Macraeons), they made the trip
to Upper India in less than four months, which the Portuguese would hard-
ly make in three years with myriad troubles and countless dangers. And I
am of the opinion, subject to better judgment, that such a route was fol-
lowed by those Indians who sailed into Germany and were honorably treat-
ed by the king of the Swedes, in the time when Q. Mc-talus Celer was pro-
consul in Gaul, as is described by Cot. Nepos, Pomp. Mela, and after them
Pliny.



CHAPTER 2


How on the island of Medamothi
Pantagruel bought several beautiful things.


THAT day and the next two there appeared to them no land or any other
thing. For once before they had covered this route. On the fourth, they
sighted an island named Medamothi, fair to the eye and attractive because
of the large number of lighthouses and high marble towers that adorned its
whole circumference, which was no less great than that of Canada.

Pantagruel, inquiring who was its ruler, learned that it was King Philo-
phancs, then absent for the marriage of his brother Philothcamon to the
Infanta of the kingdom of Engys. Thereupon he disembarked at the harbor,
contemplating, while the ship's crew had a stop for water, divers pic-
tures, divers tapestries, divers animals, fish, birds, and other exotic
objects for sale, which were on the road to the pier and in the open mar-
kets of the harbor. For it was the third day of the place's great solemn
fairs, to which each year came the richest and most famous merchants of
Africa and Asia. Among these (objects for sale) Frere Jean bought two
precious rare pictures, on one of which was portrayed to the life the
face of an appellant; on the other was the portrait of a valet in search
of a master, in all the required qualities, gestures, demeanor, expres-
sion, ways of moving, physiognomy, and emotions, painted and imagined by
Master Charles Charmois, painter to King Megiste; and he paid for them in
monkey coin.

Panurge bought a big picture copied from the needlework done long ago by
Philomela, exposing and representing to her sister Procne how her brother-
in-law Tereus had deflowered her and cut out her tongue so that she could
not reveal such a crime. I swear to you, by the handle of this lantern,
that it was a goodly wondrous painting! Don't suppose, I beg you, that it
was a picture of a man coupled upon a girl. That would be too stupid and
too crude. The picture was quite different and more intelligible. You can
see it at Theleme, on the left hand as you enter the high gallery.

Epistemon bought another one, on which were portrayed to the life Plato's
Ideas and Epicurus's Atoms. Rhizotome bought another, showing Echo in her
natural form.

Pantagruel had Gymnaste buy him the life and deeds of Achilles in seventy-
eight pieces of top-quality tapestry, four fathoms long and three wide 24
x m 8, all of Phrygian silk, embroidered in gold and silver. And the tap-
estries started with the wedding of Pelcus and Thetis, continuing with the
birth of Achilles, his youth as described by Statius Papinius, his deeds
and exploits as celebrated by Homer, his death and funeral as described
by Ovid and Quintus Cahber: finishing with the apparition of his shade and
the sacrifice of PoIrcena, as described by Euripides.

He also had him buy three handsome young unicorns: one male, with a coat of
burnt sorrel, and two females with dappled gray coats. Also a tarande, sold
him by a Scythian from the land of the Geloni.

A tarande is an animal the size of a young bull, with a head like a stag's.
a bit bigger, with remarkable horns, broadly branched; its feet forked; its
coat as long as a great bear's; its hide a little less hard than the body
of a cuirass. And the Gelonia said there were few of them found in Scythia,
because it changes color according to the variety of places where it feeds
and stays And it takes on the color of the plants, trees, shrubs, flowers,
places, meadows, rocks, and generally everything it comes near. It has this
in common with the marine polyp; with. the thoes; with the Lycaons of
India; with the chameleon, which is a kind of lizard so wonderful that
Democritus composed a whole book about its figure, anatomy, powers and
properties in magic. The fact is that I have seen it change color, not
merely at the approach of colored things, but of itself according to the
fear or emotions it felt: as, on a green rug, I have seen it turn green; but
also, on remaining there for a certain length of time, turn yellow, blue,
tawny, violet, in succession; as you see the crests of turkey cocks change
color according to their feelings. What we found especially wonderful in
this tarande was that not only his head and his skin but equally his hair
changed according to the color of the things around it. Next to Panurge
dressed in his dun-color toga his coat turned gray; next to Pantagruel clad
in his scarlet cloak, his coat and skin turned red; next to the admiral clad
in the fashion of the Isiacs of Anubis in Egypt it appeared all white. These
last two colors are denied to the chameleon. When he was in his natural
state, free of any fear or emotions, his coat was such as you see on the
donkeys of Meung.



CHAPTER 3


How Pantagruel
received a letter from his father Gargantua
and of a strange way of getting news very promptly
from distant foreign countries.


As Pantagruel was busy with the purchase of these exotic animals, there
were heard from the pier ten salvos of small culverins and falcons, and
with these a joyful acclamation from all the ships. Pantagruel turns toward
the harbor and sees that it is one of the celoces [BD: vessels light upon the
sea] of his father Gargantua, named the Chelidon because on the stern
was a sculpture in Corinthian brass of a sea swallow aloft. This is a fish the
size of a Loire dace, quite fleshy, without scales, with cartilaginous wings
(as on bats), very long and wide, by means of which I've often seen it fly
further than a bowshot one fathom above the water. In Marseille they call
it a lendole.

Likewise this vessel was as light as a swallow, so that it seemed to fly
rather than to sail over the sea. Therein was Malicorne,' Gargantua's
carver squire, sent by him expressly to learn through him of the state and
condition of the good Pantagruel and to bring him a letter of credit.
Pantagruel, after a gracious salutation and a little embrace, before open-
ing the letter or having any other talk with Malicorne, asked him:

"Do you have here the gozal [BD: in Hebrew, pigeon, dove], the
celestial messenger?"

"Yes," he replied, "it's wrapped up inside this basket."

It was a pigeon from Gargantua's pigeon-house, who had just been hatch-
ing her young the moment the aforesaid celoce was leaving. If adverse
fortune had befallen Pantagruel, she would now have had black jesses
placed onto her feet; but because everything had come out well and
prosperously, he fastened onto her feet a little ribbon of white taffeta, and,
without further delay left her the full freedom of the air. Instantly the
pigeon takes flight, cleaving the air with incredible speed; as you know,
there is no flight like a pigeon's when it has eggs or young, because of the
obstinate concern planted in it by nature to hurry back and succor its
pigeon young. So that in less than two hours it crossed by air the long
route that the celoce, rowing and at full sail, covered in three days and
three nights by extreme diligence and with a continuous stern wind. And
she was seen entering the pigeon-house and going to the very nest of her
offspring. Thereupon, when the valiant Gargantua heard that she was
bearing the white ribbon, he was left in joy and security about the well-
being of his son

This was the practice of the noble Gargantua and Pantagruel whenever
they wanted to have news promptly of some matter that greatly con-
cerned them and that they eagerly desired, like the outcome of some
great battle on sea or land, the capture or defense of some stronghold, the
settlement of some important disputes, or the happy or unfortunate deliv-
ery of some queen or great lady, the death or convalescence of sick
friends and allies of theirs, and other such matters. They would take the
gozal by post, have it carried from hand to hand right up to the places of
which they wanted to have news. The gozal, wearing a black or white
ribbon depending on the happenings and occurrences, would free them
from anxious thoughts on her return, covering more distance by air in
one hour than thirty posts had done by land in one normal day. That was
to recover and gain time. And believer me as something plausible that
throughout the dovecotes of their country houses, every month and sea-
son of the year, they found pigeons aplenty upon their eggs or young,
which is very easy to arrange in husbandry, with the help of rock salt-
peter and the sacred verbena plant.

When the gozal was loosed, Pantagruel read the letter from his father
Gargantua, the tenor of which follows:

"My very dear son, the affection a father naturally has for his well-
beloved son is in my case so greatly accrued by consideration and
reverence for the particular graces placed in you by divine choice,
that since you left no other thought has at any time displaced it, thus
leaving in my heart this sole anxious fear that your sailing may have
been attended by some unhappy blow or trouble: as you know, fear is
always attached to a good sincere love. And because, as Hesiod says,'
the beginning of each and every thing is half the whole, and, according
to the common proverb, it's the putting in the oven that gives loaves
their crusts, to rid my mind of such anxiety, I've sent Malicorne
expressly so that I may be assured of how your health is on these the
first days of your voyage. For if it is prospering and such as I wish it
to be, it will be easy for me to foresee, prognosticate, and judge of
the rest.

"I have got a few books which by the present bearer will be given
to you. You will read them when you want a refresher on your best
studies. The said bearer will tell you more amply all the news of this
court. The peace of the Eternal be with you. Greetings to Panurge,
Frere Jean, Epistemon, Xenomanes, Gymnaste, and my good friends
your other familiars. From your paternal home, this thirteenth of June.4



CHAPTER 4


How Pantagruel writes to his father Gargantua
and sends him several rare and beautiful things.


AFTER reading the aforesaid letter, Pantagruel talked with Squire
Malicorne about several matters, and was with him so long that Panurge
interrupted and said:

"So when are you going to drink? When are we going to drink? When
is My Lord the Squire going to drink? Isn't this enough preaching for
a drink?"

"Well said," said Pantagruel. "Have a collation made ready at the near-
est inn, the one with the hanging sign that shows the picture of a satyr on
horseback."

Meanwhile, to dispatch the squire, he wrote to Gargantua as follows:
"Most kindly father, since of all accidents of this transitory life that
are not anticipated or suspected, our senses and animal faculties undergo
more enormous and helpless disturbances (even to the point of having
our soul thereby separated from our body, even though such sudden news
should be for our desire and contentment) than if they had been pre-
dicted and foreseen in advance, even so I was greatly moved and
perturbed by the unexpected arrival of your squire Malicorne. For I
had no hope of seeing any of your familiars or hearing any news from
you before the end of this voyage of ours. And I was readily contenting
myself with the sweet recollection of your august majesty, inscribed,
indeed rather sculpted and engraved, on the hindmost lobe of my
brain, often representing it to me to the life in its own natural form.

"But since you have got ahead of me by the beneficence of your
gracious letter, and by your squire's ?message, restored my spirits with
news of your prosperity and health, also that of your whole royal
house, I am forced to do what in the past was voluntary. First to praise
the blessed Savior, Who by His divine goodness keeps you in this long
stretch of perfect health; secondly, to thank you eternally for that
fervent and inveterate affection that you bear me, your very humble
son and unprofitable servant.

"In olden times a Roman named Furnius said to Caesar Augustus,
on his receiving into grace and favor his [Furnius's father], who
had followed Antony's party: 'By granting me this boon today, you have
reduced me to such ignominy that all my life I shall be reputed an
ingrate for the impotence of my gratituelt.'21Even so I say to you that
the excess of your paternal affection reduces me to the straits and plight
of having to live and die an ingrate. Unless I am acquitted of such a
crime by the dictum of the Stoics, who used to say that there were
three parts in a good turn: one, of the giver; another, of the receiver;
the third, of the recompenser; and that the receiver recompenses the
giver very well when he willingly accepts the good turn and retains it
in his memory forever; even as, on the contrary, the receiver would
be the worst ingrate in the world who should despise and forget a
good turn.

"So being oppressed by infinite obligations all created by your
immense benignity, and incapable of even the tiniest share of recom-
pense, I will at least save myself from calumny, in that the remem-
brance of them shall never be blotted from my memory; and my
tongue will not cease to confess and protest that to render you condign
thanks is something'transcending my faculty and power.

"Moreover, I have this confidence in the commiseration and help of
Our Lord, that the end of this peregrination of ours will correspond to
the beginning, and the whole of it will be in perfect cheer and good
health. I shall not fail to reduce to commentaries and logbooks the
whole story of our navigation, so that on our return you may have a
true account of it to read.

"I found here a tarande from Scythia, an animal strange and won-
derful because of the variations in color of his skin and coat, according
to the distinction between the surrounding things. You'll like him.
He's as manageable and easy to train as a lamb. I'm also sending you
three young unicorns, more tame and domesticated than three kittens
would be. I've conferred with the squire and told him the way to treat
them. They do not graze on the ground, the long horn on the fore-
head being in the way. They are forced to get their fodder on fruit
trees or on suitable food racks, or fed by hand when you offer them
plants, sheaves, apples, pears, barley, winter wheat, in short all kinds of
fruits and vegetables. I'm amazed at how ours ancient writers say that
they are so wild, fierce, and dangerous, and have never been seen alive.
If you see fit, you will make trial of the contrary; and you will find that
in them lies the greatest gentleness in the world, provided they are not
maliciously injured.

"Likewise I send you the life and deeds of Achilles on a very lovely
and well-wrought tapestry. Assuring you that all the novelties in
animals, plants, birds, and precious stones that I can find in this whole
peregrination of ours I will bring to you, with the help of God our
Savior, Whom I pray to keep you in His holy grace.

"From Medamothi, this fifteenth of June. Panurge, Frere Jean,
Epistemon, Xenomanes, Gymnaste, Rhizotome, and Carpalim, after
devoutly kissing your hand, return your greetings with hundredfold
usury.

"Your humble son and servant,

PANTAGRLIEL."

While Pantagruel was writing the aforesaid letter, Malicorne was
feasted, greeted, and embraced by everyone many times over. Everything
went well, Lord knows, and recommendations from all sides and messages
were busily trotting about. Pantagruel, having finished his letter, ban-
queted with the squire. And Irie gave him a great gold chain weighing
eight hundred crowns,' in which, by the septenary links, were set great
diamonds, rubies, emeralds, turquoises, union pearls, in alternation. To
each one of his seamen he had five hundred sun-crowns given; to his
father Gargantua he sent the tarande, covered with a satin horse-blanket
brocaded in gold, with the tapestry containing the deeds of Achilles,
and the three unicorns, caparisoned in embroidered cloth of gold. Thus
they left Medamothi: Malicorne to return to Gargantua, Pantagruel to
continue on his voyage. On the high seas he had Epistemon read (aloud)
the books brought by the squire. Of these, because he found them merry
and entertaining, I'll gladly give you a transcription, if you ask me for
it earnestly.



CHAPTER 5


How Pantagruel encomntered a ship
with travelers returning from Lanternland.


ON the fifth day, already beginning to circle little by little around the
pole, moving away from the equinoctial line, we' sighted a merchant ship
sailing toward us to port of us. There was no little joy, both on our part
and on the merchants': on ours, to get news of the sea; on theirs, to get
news of terra firma.

Coming up to them, we learned that they were Frenchmen from Sairitonge.
In talk and discussion with them, Pantagruel learned that they were
coming from Lanternland. This further increased his joy, also that of
the whole noble company, as we inquired especially about the state of the
country and the ways of the Lanternese people, and learned that for the
end of the forthcoming July was set the general chapter meeting of the
Lanterns; and they were making great preparations there, as if people
were going to Lanternize very thoroughly there. We were told that,
when we stopped at the great kingdom of Gebarim, we would be honor-
ifically received and treated by King °hal* ruler of that land, who
speaks Touraine French, as do all his subjects likewise.

While we were hearing these pieces of news, Panurge got into a dis-
pute with a merchant from Taillebourg named Dindenault. The occasion
of the dispute was this. This Dindenault, seeing Panurge without a
codpiece with his eyeglasses attached to his bonnet said about him to his
companions:

"That's a nice picture of a cuckold." Panurge, because of his eyeglasses,
could hear with his ears much better than usual. So, hearing this remark,
he said to the merchant: "How the devil would I be a cuckold, when I'm
not married, as you are, as far as I can judge from that boorish snout
of yours?"

"Yes," replied the merchant, "and I wouldn't not be for all the eye-
glasses in Europe, not for all the spectacles in Africa. For I have one
of the most beautiful, most decent, most modest women as my wife that there
is in the whole region of Saintonge, no offense to the others. I'm bringing
her back from my voyage as a homecoming present a handsome eleven-inch
branch of red coral.' What's that to you? What busines is it of yours?
Who are you? Where are you from? O you four-eyed son of the Anti-
christ,4 if you are on God's side, answer me!"

"I ask you this," said Panurge: "if by the consent and agreement of all
the elements, I had sacksackshakeshookbingbangasspassed [sacsacbezeve-
zinemasse] your ever so beautiful, ever so decent, ever so modest wife, to
such effect that that stiff god of the gardens Priapus (who dwells here at
liberty, subjection to codpieces being excluded) had remained stuck in
her body so disastrously that it would never come out unless you pulled
it out with your teeth, what would you do? Would you leave it there
eternally? Or would you pull it out with both your teeth?' Answer me,
you ram-monger to Mahomet, since you're on the side of all the devils."

"I'd hit you," replied the merchant, "a blow with the sword on that
eyeglass-bearing ear, and kill you like a ram."

So saying, he was unsheathing his sword. But it stuck in the scabbard;
for as you know, at sea all pieces of armor readily rust, because of the
excessive nitrous humidity.6 Panurge runs back toward Pantagruel for
help. Frere Jean put his hand to his newly whetted cutlass and would have
furiously killed the merchant, but that the ship's master and some other
passengers besought Pantagruel that there would be no violence aboard
his ship. So their dispute was patched up; and Panurge and the merchant
shook hands on it and cordially drank each other's health as a sign of
perfect reconciliation.



CHAPTER 6


How, with the dispute pacified,
Panurge bargains with Dindenault for one of his sheep.


WITH the dispute completely pacified, Panurge said in secret to
Epistemon and Frere Jean:

"Stand back a bit and have a good time with what you're going to see.
There will be fine sport if the line doesn't break."' Then he addressed
the merchant and drank his health with a full drinking cup of good
Lanternland wine. The merchant returned his pledge in all courtesy and
civility. That done, Panurge begged him earnestly to sell him one of
his sheep. The merchant answered him: "O my, O my, my friend, our
neighbor, what a sharpie you are at cheating poor folk! You really are a
nice customer! O what a valiant sheep buyer! Honest go Gosh [Vraybis]!
You have the look not of a buyer of sheep but of a cutter of purses. Golly
Nick, fellow [Deu Colas, faillon]! What fun it would be to have a full
purse and be next to you in a tripe shop at the time of the thaw! Haw,
haw, with anybody who didn't know you, you'd really take him to the
cleaners. But hey, good folks, just see how he plays the history pundit!3

"Patience!" said Panurge; "but by the way, as a special favor, sell me
one of your sheep. How much?"

"What do you mean by that?" replied the merchant, "my friend, my
neighbor? These are sheep with lots of wool.4 That's where Jason got the
Golden Fleece. The Order of the House of Burgundy was derived from
them. Levantine sheep, pedigreed sheep, well-fatted sheep."

"So be it," said Panurge; "but please sell me one, and for good reason;
I'll be paying you well and promptly in Western money, pedigreed and
low in grease. How much?"

"Our neighbor:, my friend," replied the dealer, "listen here a bit with
the other ear."

PAN. At your command.

MERCH. You're going to Lanternland?

PAN. True.

MERCH. To see the world?

PAN. True.

MERCH. Merrily?

PAN. True.

MERCH. Your name I believe, is Robin Mutton?'

PAN. If you like.

MERCH. No hard feelings.

PAN. So I understand.

MERCH. You are, I believe, the King's' Merryman.

PAN. All right.

MERCH. Shake on it! Ha ha! You're going to see the world, you're
the King's Merryman, your name is Robin Mutton. See that
sheep over there, his name is Robin, like you. Robin, Robin.
Baa, baa, baa, baa. O what a beautiful voice!

PAN. Most beautiful and harmonious.

MERCH. Here's a pact we'll have between you and me, our neigh-
bor and friend. You, who are Robin Mutton, shall be in this
plate of the scale; my sheep Robin shall be in the other; I'll bet a
hundred Buch6 oysters that in weight, worth, and esteem he will
send you up high and short, in the same shape in which some
day you will be suspended and hanged.

"Patience. Easy," said Panurge. "But you would do a lot for me and for
your posterity if you would sell me this one or else one from lower in
your choir. I beg you to, Sir Sire."

"Our friend," replied the dealer, "my neighbor,' of the fleece of these
sheep will be made the fine cloths of Rouen; the skeins from the Leices-
ter bales, compared to it, are nothing but tow. From the hide will be
made handsome moroccos' that will be sold as moroccos from Turkey,
from Montelimart, or at worst from Spain. From the bowels will be made
strings for violins and harps,8 which will be sold as dear as if they were
strings from Munich or from Aquila. What do you think of that?"

"If you please," said Panurge, "you'll sell me one, I'll be very much
indebted to the bolt of your front door.`' Here's ready cash. How much?"
This he said displaying his wallet full of new Henricuses.'"



CHAPTER 7


Continuation of the bargaining
between Panurge and Dindenault.


"MY friend," replied the dealer, "our neighbor, this is meat only for
kings and princes. The flesh is so delicate, so savory, and so tasty, that
it is balm [tant friande, que c'est basme]. I bring them in from a country
where hogs (God be with us!) eat nothing but myrobalan plums. The sows
when they lie in (no dishonor to this entire company!)' are fed only
on orange blossoms."

"But," said Panurge, "sell me one, and I'll pay for it like a king, word
of a footsoldier.2 How much?" "Our friend," replied the dealer, "my neigh-
bor, these are sheep drawn from the very line of the one that bore Phryxus
and Helle over the sea
named Hellespont."

"Plague take it [Cancre]!" said Panurge, "you are clericus vel adiscens [a
cleric or a student]."

"Ita, that's cabbages," replied the dealer, "Vere, that's leeks. But rr.
rrr. rrrr. rrrrr. Ho, Robin, rr. I11.111. You don't understand that language.

"By the way! all through all the fields where they piss, wheat springs up
as if God had pissed there:3 you don't need any other marl or manure.
There is more. From their urine the Quintessentials derive the best salt-
peter in the world. From their turds (begging your pardon) the doctors of
our countries cure seventy-eight kinds of illnesses, the least of which is
i the evil of Saint Eutropius of Saintes, from which God save and preserve
us. What do you think of that, ourice-ighbor, my friend? And so they cost
me good and plenty."

"Cost what they may," replied Panurge. "Just sell me one; I'll pay well
for it."

"Our friend," said the dealer, "my neighbor, just consider for a bit the
wonders of nature residing in these animals you see, even in a member
that you would consider useless. Take me these horns, crush them quite
a little with an iron pestle or an andiron, it's all one to me. Then bury
them in sunlight wherever you will, and water them often. In a few
months you will see spring up the best asparagus stalks in the world; I
wouldn't even deign to except those of Ravenna. Just try telling me that
the horns of you gentlemen the cuckolds have such virtue and such a
mirific property."

"Patience!" said Panurge.

"I don't know," said the dealer, "if you're a cleric. I've seen lots of
clerics, I mean eat clerics, cuckolds. By the way, if you were a cleric,
you'd know that in the lower parts of these divine animals there is a bone,
the heel, that's the hucklebone if you like, with which, not with any
other animal in the world except the Indian donkey and the Libyan
roebuck, they used to play the royal game of tali, at which one evening
the Emperor Octavian Augustus won more than 5o,000 crowns. You cuck-
olds aren't likely to win that much!"

"Patience!" said Panurge. "But let's get moving."

"And when," said the dealer, "shall I, my friend, my neighbor, have
praised condignly to you the inward parts? The shoulder, the haunches,
the legs, the upper ribs, the breast, the liver, the spleen, the tripes,
the bowels, the bladder, with which people play ball; the cutlets, with
which in Pigmyland they make nice little bows for firing cherry pits at
the cranes; the head, from which, with a little sulfur, is made a mar-
velous decoction to unclog dogs constipated in the belly?"

"Shit, shit," said the ship's master to the dealer, "that's too much
billing here. Sell to him if you want; if you don't, don't string him
along any more."

"I'm willing to," said the dealer, "for your sake. But he'll pay three
Tours livres to take his choice."

"That's a lot," said Panurge. "In our part of the country I'd get easily
five or six for such a sum of deniers. Consider whether that may not be
too much. You're not the first one I've known who, wanting to get rich
and move up too quickly, has fallen over back into poverty, and sometimes
has even broken his neck."

"A batch of tough quartan fevers to you!" retorted the dealer, "stupid
nincompoop that you are! By the worthy relic at Charroux, the least of
these sheep is worth four times more than the best of those that of old
the Coraxians of Tuditania, a region in Spain, used to sell for one gold
talent apiece. And what, you goldbricking dumb underling, do you suppose
one talent was worth?"

"Blessed Sir," said Panurge, "from what I can see and tell, you're get-
ting hot under the collar. All right! There, here's your money."

Panurge, having paid the dealer, out of the whole flock chose one big
handsome sheep and carried it off bleating and crying out, while all the
others heard and bleated in unison and watched where their companion was
being taken to. Meanwhile the dealer was saying to his sheep-handlers:

"O how well he knew how to pick 'em. that customer! He knows his way a-
round with them, the lecher! Really, really and truly, I was saving that
one for Lord de Cancale, since I know his taste very well. For by nature
he's all overjoyed and beaming when he's holding in hand a well-fitting
attractive shoulder of mutton like a left-handed racket,' and, with a
good sharp carving knife, how he takes his cuts at it!"'



CHAPTER 8


How Panurge had the merchant and the sheep
drowned at sea.


SUDDENLY, I know not how--I had no time to consider it--Panurge,
without another word, throws his bleating and bawling sheep right into
the sea. And the other sheep, bawling and bleating in unison, started
jumping and throwing themselves into the sea one after another after
him. They were shoving to determine which one would jump in there
first after their companion. It was not possible to keep them from it;
for as you know, the nature of a sheep is always to follow the leader,
wherever he goes. And so Aristotle, in Book 9 of De histo. animal,
says it is the stupidest. silliest animal in the world.

The merchant, all terrified to see his sheep perish and drown be-
fore his eyes, kept trying with all his might to hinder them and hold
them back. But it was in vain. One after the other, they all jumped
into the sea and perished. Finally he took one big strong one by his
fleece on the ship's deck, thinking in that way to hold him back and
so then to save the rest. The sheep was so powerful that he dragged
the merchant with him into the sea, and he was drowned, in the same
way that the sheep of Polyphemus, the one-eyed Cyclops, carried Ulys-
ses and his companions out of the cave [Odyssey 9.425 11]. The other
herdsmen and shepherds did the same thing, taking them some by the
legs, some by the fleece. And they were all likewise dragged into the
sea, and perished miserably.

Panurge, standing beside the galley holding an oar in his hand not to
help the shepherds but to keep them from climbing back aboard and a-
voiding drowning, kept preaching to them eloquently, as if he were a
little Friar Oliver Maillard or a second Friar Jean Bourgeois,' point-
ing out to them by rhetorical topoi the miseries of this world, the
beatific felicity of the other life, affirming that the deceased were
happier than those living in this vale of tears [vallee de misere], and
promising each one to erect a fine cenotaph and honorary sepulcher on
the very summit of Mont Cenis on his return from Lanternland, nonethe-
less wishing them, in case they were not fed up with living among hu-
mans, good luck and an encounter with some whale that on the third day
thereafter would cast them up safe and sound on some Satinland, follow-
ing Jonah's example [Jonah 2.10].

With the ship cleared of the dealer and his sheep, Panurge said: "Is
there any muttonish soul left here? Where are those of Thibault l'Aign-
elet, and those of Regnauld Belli', which sleep while others graze. I
don't know a thing about it. That's an old wartime trick. What do you
think of it, Frare Jean?"

"A good job of yours," replied Frere Jean. "I didn't find anything
wrong, unless that it seems to me that just as of old in war, on
the day of a battle or assault, they would promise the soldiers
double pay for that day: if they won the battle, they had plenty to
pay with; if they lost, it would have been disgraceful to ask for it,
as did the runaway Swiss after the battle of Ceresole; likewise, when
all's said and done, you should have reserved payment; the mon-
ey would have remained in your purse."

"That," said Panurge, "was a good shit for the money! Power of God,
I had more than a thousand francs worth of fun. Never did a man do
me pleasure without getting rewarded by me or at least without my
being grateful. Never did a man do me a bad turn without being sorry
for it either in this world or in the other. I'm not stupid to that
point."

"You," said here Jean, "arc damning yourself like an old devil.
It is written: Mihi vindictam [Vengeance is mine],3 etc. Breviary
matter."



CHAPTER 9


How Pantagruel reached the island of Etinasin,'
and of the strange relationships of the country.


ZEPHYR [the west wind] kept blowing for us with a little help from
Garbin [southwest wind], and we spent one day without sighting land.
On the third day, at the flies' sunrise,' there appeared before us a
triangular island, in shape and site much like Sicily. It was named
the island of Relationships [L'isle des Alliances].

The men and women looked like red Poitevins [red-painted Picts], ex-
cept that they all, men, women, and little children, have noses shap-
ed like the ace of clubs. For this reason, the ancient name of the
island was Ennasin. And they were all kinfolk and interrelated so they
boasted; and the Potentate [Potcstat]' of the place said to us freely:

"You people from the other world think it is a wonderful thing that
out of one Roman family (that was the Fabii), on one day (that was
the thirteenth of the month of February), by one gate (that was the
Pore Cannentalia, of old situated at the foot of the Capitol, be-
tween the Tarpeian Rock and the Tiber, and since surnamed the Sce-
lerata--the crime-stained), against certain enemies of the Romans
(these were the Etruscan Veientes), there went forth three hundred
and six warriors, all related with five thousand other soldiers, all
vassals of theirs who were slain (that was near the river Cremera,
which flows out of the Lake of Baccano).4 From this land, in case of
need, will go forth three hundred thousand, all relatives and of
one family."

Their kinships and relationships were of a very strange sort; for
while all were kith and kin and related to one another, not one of
them was father or mother, brother or sister, uncle or aunt, cousin
or nephew, son-in-law or daughter-in-law, godfather or godmother, to
another. Except for one tall old denosed man, to be sure, who, as I
watched called out to a little girl of four: "My father"; the girl
called him: "My daughter."

The kinship and relation between them was such that one man called a
woman "my flatfish"; she called him "My porpoise [ma maigre mon mar-
souin]." "Those two," said Frere Jean, "must really smell of low tide
when they've rubbed their bacon together."

One of them, smiling, called out to an elegant lass: "Good day, my cur-
rycomb [mon estrille]!" She returned the greeting: "Good day to you, my
dun horse [mon fauveau]!" "Haw haw haw," exclaimed Panurge, "Come and
see a currycomb, a scythe [une fan] and a calf [un veau]. Isn't that curry-
ing favor [estrille fauveau]?" The dun horse with the black stripe must
quite often get his tool well curried.'

Another greeted a cutie of his, saying: "Good-bye, my desk." She answer-
ed: "And the same to you, my lawsuit [mon bureau ... mon prods]." "By
Saint Ninian!" said Gymnaste, "that lawsuit must often lie upon that desk."

One of the men called another woman "My worm" [Mon verd, modern ver.]
She called him her "rascal [son coquin]." Said Eusthenes: "There's a rascal-
ly staggerworm [du vcrdcoquin] there."

Another man, greeting a female relative of his, said "Morning, my hatchet
[ma coingnee]!" She answered: "And the same to you, my helve [mon manche]!"
"'Odsbelly [Ventre beufj!" cried Carpalim, "how is this hatchet helved?
How is this helve hatcheted [coingnee...emmanchee...manche...encoingne]?
But mightn't this be the great helve that the Roman courtesans asked for?
Or a cordelier with a big handle [ou un cordelier a la grande manche]?"

Moving on, I saw an oaf [un averlant] greeting a relative and calling her
"My mattress"; she called him "my quilt." Indeed, he looked rather like
an oafish loafer [un lodier lourdault]. One man called another girl
crumb" 6 [of bread]; she called him "my crust." One called another his
"fire-shovel"; she called him her "oven-fork [so palle...son fourgon
One called another "my gym-shoe"; she named him "slipper." One
called another "my buskin"; she called him her "oversock Lestivallet]."
One called another his "mitten"; she called him her "love." One called
another his "rind"; she called him her "bacon"; and their relation was that
between rind and bacon.

In a similar relationship, one called his girl "my omelet"; she called him
my egg"; and they were related like omelet to eggs. Likewise another
called his girl "my tripe"; she called him her "faggot." I never could find
out what kinship, relation, or consanguinity there was between them
relating to our common usage, unless they were telling us that she was
"trippe de ce faggot" [Cotgrave: "one of the smallest sticks of the fag-
got"].

Another man, greeting his lady kin, said "Hello, my shell." She replied:
"And hello to you, my oyster." "That," said Carpalim, "is an oyster in
the shell [une huytre en escalle]."

Another man likewise greeted a girl relative of his, saying: "A good life
to you, my pod." She replied: "A long one to you, my pea." "That," said
Gymnaste, "is a pea in a pod."

Another, a big ugly loafer mounted on high wooden mules, meeting a
short stout, fat wench, said to her: "God save my humming top, my
spinner, my whip top, my casting top!" She answered him proudly: "Save
and save alike [Guard pour guard], my whip!" "Blood Saint Gray!" 7 said
Xenomanes, "is he whip enough to spin that top?"

A doctor professor, spruce and well combed, after chatting for some
time with a highborn lady, on taking leave of her, said: "Many thanks,
good face!" "Why," said she, "very many to you, bad matter!" "The
relation," said Pantagruel, "of good face to bad matter is in no way
impertinent."`

A senior graduate, passing by, said to a young chick: "Hey, hey! Long
time no see, Muse!" "I'm always glad to see you, Horn," she replied.
"Couple them together," said Panurge, "and blow into their asses: that'll
be a bagpipe!" Another man called a relative of his: "my sow"; she called
him her [ma truie...son foin]." There the thought came to me that this
sow liked to be turned out to tilt hay.

I saw a hunchbacked half-pint gallant greet a girl relative of his: "Good-
bye, my hole!" She likewise returned the greeting, saying: "God keep
you, my peg!" Frere Jean said: "She, I think, is all hole, and likewise he,
all peg. Now we need to know whether this hole can be entirely plugged
up by this peg."

Another man greeted his girl by saying: "Good-bye, my molt." She
answered: "Good day, my gosling." "I think," said Ponocrates, "that the
gosling is often in molt."

A lusty boozer, chatting with a young cutie, said to her: "Remember that,
fizzle." "So I shall, fart [Aussi fera, ped]!" she replied. "Do you call
those two kinfolk?" said Pantagruel to the Potentate. "I think they're
natural enemies, not kinfolk, for he called her a fizzle. In our countries
you couldn't insult a woman worse than by calling her that." "Good folk
from the other world," replied the Potentate, "you have few people so
related and so close as are this Fart and this Fizzle. They both came out
invisibly together from one hole in a moment.

"So the Galerne wind [northeast]," said Panurge, "had Lanternized
their mother?" "What mother do you mean?" said Potentate. "That's a
relationship of your world. We have no father or mother. That's for
people from overseas, hayseeds." 13

The good Pantagruel kept listening to it all and watching it all; but
at these remarks, he nearly broke up.

After carefully observing the site of the island and the ways of the
Ennasian [Denosed] people, we went into a cabaret to have a little re-
freshment. They were holding a wedding there in the manner of the
country. Moreover, a good time and a half. In our presence was per-
formed a merry marriage of a female pear, a very lively woman as it
seemed to us (however, those who had tried her said she was rather soft),
to a young cheese with a downy chin and a slightly reddish complexion.
I had heard in other days reports of such marriages and several had been—
performed elsewhere.They still say, in this cow country of ours, that
there never has been such a marriage as that of a pear and some cheese.
In another room, I saw that an old boot was being married to a supple
young buskin. Pantagruel was told that the young buskin was taking the
old boot as his wife because she was good goods, in good shape, and as
plump as a man could want, even for a fisherman. In another lower
room I saw a young dress pump marry an old slipper. And we were told
that it was not for the beauty and good grace of her, but for greed and
covetousness to get the gold pieces with which she was lined and crammed
full.



CHAPTER 10


How Pantagruel went ashore on the island of Cheli,
which was ruled by King Saint Panigon.


THE Garbin [southwest wind] kept blowing astern when, leaving the un-
attractive Kith-and-Kinners [Allianciers], with their ace-of-clubs noses,
we put out to the high seas. As the sun was going down, we landed on
the island of Cheli,' a big, fertile, rich, and populous island ruled by King
Saint Panigon.' He, accompanied by his children and the princes of the
court, had betaken himself near the harbor to receive Pantagruel, and
escorted him right up to his chateau. Above the donjon gate; the queen
presented herself, attended by her daughters and all the ladies of the
court. Panigon wanted her and all her suite to kiss Pantagruel and his
men. Such was the courteous custom of the country, which was done, ex-
cept for Frere Jean, who took off and stayed apart among the king's offic-
ers.

Panigon tried most insistently to keep Pantagruel there for that day and
the next. Pantagruel based the excuse he made on the serenity and oppor-
tuneness of the wind, which is more wished-for than encountered by
travelers, and must be put to use when it comes, for it doesn't come each
and every time you want it. When he pointed this out, after twenty-five
or thirty drinks downed per man, Panigon gave us leave.

Pantagruel, going back to the port and not seeing Frere Jean, was
asking where he was and why he wasn't with everyone else. Panurge
didn't know how to excuse him and wanted to go back to the chateau to
call him, when Frere Jean came running up all beaming, and in great
rejoicing of heart called out: "Long live the noble Panigon! By the death
of a wooden ox,4 he's at home around the kitchen. I've just come from
there, and they serve everything by the ladlefuls. I was really hoping to
get some stuffing there to fill out in monkish profit and style the mold
and lining of my frock."

"So, my friend," said Pantagruel, "still at those kitchens!"

"Cocksbody!" replied Frere Jean, "I know their customs and ceremo-
nies better than how to shittershatter so "much with all these women,
magny, magna, chiabrena [manyee, manya, shitteryshattery], bow, repeat,
once again, the hug, the embrace, kiss your majesty's hand, be most
welcome, pish tush. That's crap, known as shit in Rouen! I'm not saying
that I might not take a crack at it while it's there, in my clumsy way,
if anyone would let me insinuate my nomination. But this turdocrapery of
scrapes and bows makes me madder than a young devil, I meant to say a
double fast.' Saint Benedict never lied about it. You never talk about
kissing young ladies. By the worthy and holy gown I wear, I steer clear
of that, for fear there might happen to me what happened to the lord of
Guyeccharois."

"What was that?" asked Pantagruel. "I know him; he's one of my best
friends."

"He was invited," said Frere Jean, "to a sumptuous, magnificent ban-
quet given by a relative and neighbor of his, to which were also invited
all the gentlemen, the married and unmarried ladies, of the neighborhood.
These, while waiting for him to arrive, disguised the pages of the gather-
ing and dressed them as very sprightly, well-dressed ladies. To him as he
came in near the drawbridge the ladified pages appeared. He kissed them
all in great courtesy and magnificent bows. At the end, the ladies, who
were waiting for him in the gallery, burst into peals of laughter, and
signaled to the pages to take off their finery. At the sight of which the
worthy lord, embarrassed and annoyed, did not deign to kiss the natural-
born ladies claiming that, since they had disguised the pages on him so,
by the death of the wooden ox! These must be the servants, even more
cleverly disguised.

"Power of God! da jurandi [forgive my swearing], why don't we instead
tike all our humanities [ourselves] into one of God's lovely kitchens? And
why not consider the rotation of the spits, the harmony of the jacks, the
position of the bacon strips, the temperature of the soups, the prepara-
tions for the dessert, the order of the wine service? Beati immaculati in via
[Blessed are those unspotted along the way].8 That's breviary matter."



CHAPTER 11


Why monks like to be in the kitchen.


"THAT," said Epistemon, "is spoken like a natural-born monk. I mean
a monking monk, not a monked monk. You put me in mind of what I
saw and heard in Florence about twenty years ago. We were in good
company of studious folk, loving travel and eager to visit the learned
men, antiquities, and special sights of Italy. And at that point we were
observing carefully the site and beauty of Florence, the structure of the
cathedral, the sumptuosity of the magnificent temples' and public build-
ings, and were trying to see who would extol them most aptly by worthy
praises, when a monk from Amiens named Bernard Lardon,3 as if all
vexed and baffled, said:

"'I don't know what you find here to praise so. I've observed it just
as well as you have, and I'm no more blind than you are. What is it?
These are handsome houses. That's all. But, God and our good patron
Saint Bernard be with us! In this whole city I haven't yet seen one roast-
shop, and I've looked around it carefully and observed. Indeed, I tell you
this as one who spies them out and is ready to count and number, both
to the right and to the left, how many, and in which direction, we would
come upon more roasting roast-shops. Now at Amiens, in four, rather
five times less ground than we have crossed in our minds, I could have
shown you more than fourteen streets of roasting shops, most ancient and
aromatic. I don't know what pleasure you took in seeing the lions and
African big cats (so I believe you were naming what they call tigers) near
the belfry; likewise seeing the porcupines and ostriches at the palace of
Lord Filippo Strozzi. My faith, laddies, I'd rather see a good fat gosling on
a spit. These porphyries, these marbles are beautiful; I say nothing against
them. But the Amiens darioles [custard tarts]a are better, to my taste.
These ancient statues are well made, I'm willing to believe it; but by Saint
Ferreol of Abbeville,' the young chicks in our country are a thousand
times more attractive."

"What do they mean," said Frere Jean, "and why, do they say that you
always find monks in kitchens, and never find there kings, popes, or
emperors?"

"Is there," suggested Rhizotome, "some latent virtue and hidden spe-
cific property in the pots and racks that attract monks to them, as the
magnet attracts iron, and does not attract emperors, popes, or kings? Or
is it some natural attraction and inclination, inherent in monks' gowns and
cowls, which of itself leads and impels the good monks into the kitchen,
even if they had no plan or will to go there?"

"He means," said Epistemon, "forms following matter. That's what Aver-
roes calls them." 6

"True, right you are," said Frere Jean.

"I'll tell you," replied Pantagruel, "though without speaking to the
problem, for it's a bit ticklish, and you would hardly touch it without
being pricked. I remember reading that Antigonus, king of Macedonia,
going into his camp kitchen one day and there coming upon the poet
Antagoras, who was preparing an eel fricassee and holding the pan him-
self, asked him in great glee: 'Was Homer fricasseeing eels when he de-
scribed the exploits of Agamemnon?' 'But ha! Sire,' replied Antagoras,
do you think that Agamemnon, when he was performing such exploits,
was curious to know whether anyone in his camp was fricasseeing eels?'
To the king it 'seemed unbefitting for the poet to be making such a
fricassee in his kitchen'. The poet was pointing out that it was too
preposterous a thing to meet the king in the kitchen."

"I'll cap that one [Je dameray ceste-cy]," said Panurge, "by telling you
what Breton Villandry' replied one day to his Lordship the Duc de Guise.
They were talking about some battle of King Francis [I] against Emperor
Charles the Fifth, in which Breton was elegantly armed, indeed with
steel-trimmed greaves and steel shoes, also advantageously mounted, yet
had not been seen in combat.

"'My faith,' replied Breton, 'I was there, it will be easy for me to prove
it, indeed in a place where you would never have dared to be!' When My
Lord the Duke took this statement in bad part, as being too insolently and
rashly proffered, and as his remarks grew stiffer, Breton easily appeased
him into hearty laughter, saying: 'I was with the baggage, in which place
your honor would never have led you to hide, as I did.'"

In such talk they reached their ships. And they made no longer stay in
this island of Cheli.



CHAPTER 12


How Pantagruel passed Procuration,'
and of the strange way of fife among the Shysteroos.2


CONTINUING on our way, on the next day we passed Procuration, a coun-
try that is all jumbled and begrimed. I couldn't make out a thing in it.
There we saw the Pettifoggers [Procultoun and Shysteroos, monstrous hair-
ywild men. Only, after a long sequence of many learned salutations, they
told us that they were all at our service?for pay. One of our interpreters
was telling Pantagruel how this people earned their living in a very
strange fashion, diametrically opposite to the Romans. In Rome, an in-
finite number of people cam their living by poisoning, beating, and kill-
ing; the Shysteroos earn theirs by being beaten. So that, if they remain-
ed a long time without being beaten, they would die of starvation, they,
their wives, and their children.

"It's like those," said Panurge. "who, from Cl. Galen's report, cannot
raise their cavernous nerve to the equatorial circle unless they are good
and soundly whipped. By Saint Thibault, if anyone whipped me that way, he
would, on the contrary, wholly unsaddle me, by all the devils!"

"The way they work," said the interpreter, "is this. When a monk, a priest,
a usurer, or an advocate is down on some gentleman of his region, he sends
after him one of these Shysteroos. Shysteroo will cite him, serve a warrant
on him, set him a date to appear, offend him, insult him, independently
outrage him, following his orders and instructions, to the point where the
gentleman, if he is not paralyzed in sense or stupider than a tadpole, will
be forced to give him beatings with swordstrokes on his head, or a nice
slash of his hamstrings, or, better yet, throw him off the battlements or
out the windows of his chateau. That done, you have Shysteroo rich for four
months, as if beatings were his natural harvests. For from the monk, the u-
surer, or the advocate, he will receive very good pay, and damages from the
gentleman that are sometimes so great and excessive that the gentleman will
lose all his means, with the danger of rotting miserably in prison, as if he
had struck the king."

"Against such a disaster," said Panurge, "I know a very good remedy that the
lord of Basche used to use."

"What was that?" asked Pantagruel.

"The lord of Basche," said Panurge, "was a courageous, valorous, magnanimous,
chivalrous man. On his return from a certain long war in which the duke of
Ferrara, through the help of the French, defended himself valiantly against
the fury of Pope Julius the Second, he was every day cited, summoned, wrangl-
ed with, to the taste and for the sport of the fat prior of Saint-Louant.

"One day, lunching with his people (since he was friendly and humane), he
sent for his baker, named Loyre, and his wife, also the curate of his parish,
named Oudart, who served him as wine steward, as was then the custom in France,
and said to them in the presence of his gentlemen and others of his house:
"My children, you see what vexation these scoundrelly Shystcroos cause me
every day; I've come to the point of resolving that unless you help me in this
I'll plan to leave the region and take the side of the sultan to all the dev-
ils. From now on, when they come in here, be ready, you, Loyre, and your wife,
to appear in my great hall in your fine wedding clothes, as if you were just
getting married, just as you were married in the first place.

"'Look, here are a hundred gold crowns which I give you so you may get and
keep your finery in good shape. You, Sir Oudart, do not fail to appear in
your fine surplice and stole, with the holy water, as if to marry them. You
too, Trudon (that was the name of his drummer), be there with your flute and
drum. When the words are pronounced and the bride kissed to the sound of the
drum, you will each give one another mementos of the wedding: those are little
punches with your fist [a custom, see below]. So doing, you will sup only the
better for it. But when it comes to the Shysteroo, lay it on him as on green
rye, don't spare him, whack him, bank hit, I beseech you. Look, right now I
give you these young jousting gauntlets covered with kid leather. Keep on
striking countless times at random. The one who hits hardest I'll recognize as
my best friend. Don't be afraid of being taken to court for it; I'll stand war-
rant for you all. Such blows must be given with a laugh, according to the cust-
om observed at all weddings.'

"'Right; said Oudart, 'but how shall we recognize the Shysteroo? For every day
people come into this house of yours from every direction.'

"'I've planned for that,' replied Basche. 'When up to our gate comes some man,
either on foot or pretty badly mounted with a great wide silver ring on his
thumb, that will be Shysteroo. The porter, after courteously letting him in,
will ring the bell. Then, be ready and come into the hall to play the tragic
comedy that I've laid out for you.'

"That very day, as God willed, there arrived a fat ruddy old Shysteroo. When he
rang at the gate, he was recognized by the porter for his greasy leggings, his
wretched mare, a cloth bag full of writs fastened to his belt, and especially
for the big silver ring he had on his left thumb. The porter was courteous to
him, brings him in honorably, joyfully rings the bell. At the sound thereof,
Loyre and his wife dressed in their finery appeared in the hall putting a good
face on it [faisans bonne morgue]; Oudart put on his surplice and stole. Coming
out of his sacristy, he comes upon Shysteroo, takes him to drink a long time in
his sacristy, while on all sides they were putting on gauntlets, and says to
him: 'You couldn't have come at a better time. Our master is in the best of
moods. We'll soon have a great time, everything will go by the ladlefuls; we're
having a wedding in here. Here, drink up, cheers!'

"While Shysteroo was drinking, Basche, seeing all the people in the hall in the
necessary equipment, sends for Oudart to come. Oudart comes, bearing the holy
water. Shysteroo follows him. When he came into the hall he did not forget to
make numerous humble bows, and served the summons on Basche. Basche gave
him the wannest possible welcome, gave him a gold angel, asking him to be present
at the contract and the wedding. Which was done. In the end, fists came out and
began their thumps and whacks. But when Shysteroo's turn came, they feted him
with great blows with the gauntlets, so roundly that it left him all punchy and bruis-
ed, with one eye poached in butter sauce, eight broken ribs, his breast bone knock-
ed in, his shoulder blades each in four quarters, his lower jaw in three pieces,
and all this done laughing. God knows how well Oudart operated, covering with the
sleeve of his surplice the great steel-trimmed gauntlet with the ermine fur, for
he was a powerfid rascal.

"So Shysteroo goes back to L'Isle Bouchart, cruelly battered, but quite satisfied
and content with the lord of Basche; and with help from the good surgeons of the
region he lived as long as you like. There was no talk of him from then on. The
memory of him expired with the sound of the bells that pealed out at his burial."



CHAPTER 13


How, after the example of Master Francois Villon,
the lord of Basche praises his people.


WHEN Shysteroo had left the chateau and climbed back onto his scrawny blind nag
[esgue orbej (that's what he called his one-eyed mare), Basche, under the arbor
in his private garden, sent for his wife, his ladies, all his people; had wine
brought for a collation, in company with a number of pastries, hams, fruits, and
cheeses, drank with them in great glee, then said to them:

"'Master Francois Villon, in his old age, retired to Saint-Maixcnt in Poitou, under
the aegis of a worthy man, the abbot of the said place. There, to offer an enter-
tainment for the people, he undertook to put on the Passion in Poitevin ways and
language. When the roles were distributed, the players rehearsed, and the theater
prepared, he told the mayor and aldermen that the mystery play could be ready by
the end of the Nion Fair;' all that remained was to find costumes suitable for the
characters.

"'The mayor and aldermen set the date. He [Villonj, to dress up an old peasant
playing God the Father, requested Friar Estienne Tappecoue, sacristan of the cor-
deliers of the said place, to lend him a cope and stole.' Tappecoue refused him,
alleging that, by their provincial statutes, it was strictly forbidden to give or
lend anything to players. Villon replied that the statute concerned only farces,
mummeries, and dissolute plays, and that he had seen it applied that way in Brus-
sels' and elsewhere. Tappecoue, this notwithstanding, told him peremptorily to
get his furnishings elsewhere if he wanted, to hope for nothing from his sacristy,
for he would get nothing there and no mistake. Villon reported this to the players
in great indignation, adding that God would soon mete out vengeance and exemplary
punishment on Tappecoue.

"'On the following Saturday, Villon got word that Tappecoue, mounted on the mona-
stery's filly (so they called a mare that had not yet been covered), had gone to
beg alms at Saint-Ligaire, and that he would be back at about two in the afternoon.
Thereupon he led the parade of the crew of devils through the town and market-
place. His devils were all caparisoned in wolf-skins, calfskin, and rant-skim, spiced
with sheep's heads, ox-horns, and great kitchen hooks; girt with great leather
belts from which hung big cowbells and mule-jangles that made a horrific racket.
They held in their hands black sticks full of firecrackers; others carried long
lighted firebrands, on which at every crossroads they tossed fistfuls of powdered
resin, which emitted terrible fire and smoke. After leading them around to the
great satisfaction of the people and great terror of the little children, finally
he took them to banquet in a little country inn outside the door of which is the
road to Saint-Ligaire. On reaching the inn, he espied from afar Tappecoue return-
ing from seeking alms, and said to them in macaronic verse:'

Hic at de patria, tutus de gente belistra,
Qui solet antiquo bribas portare bisacco.'

[From an ignoble line this fellow conies,
Who fills his pouch with moldy crusts and crumbs.]

"'" 'Sdeath," said the devils then, "he wouldn't lend a lousy cope to God the
Father, let's give him a scare."

"'"Well "Well said," replies Villon, "but let's hide until he passes, and load up
your firecracker and brands."

"'When Tappecou reached the place, they all came out on the road in front of him,
with a frightful racket, throwing fire from all sides onto him and his filly, bang-
ing their cymbals, and howling like devils: hoo, hoo, hoo, growrowrow, roo, roo,
roo, roor! Hoo, hoo, hoo. Ho, ho, ho! Brother Estienne, don't we make good devils?

"'The filly, badly scared, took off at a trot, with farts, and jumps, and at a gal-
lop, kicking up her heels, stepping high, bucking, and fatting: so wildly that she
threw Tappccouc to the ground, although he clung with all his might to the pommel
of the packsaddle. His stirrups were of rope. On the side opposite the mountingblock
[i.e., on the right side), his sandal of leather thongs was so entangled that he
never could get his leg free. So he was dragged fiayass by the filly, who kicked
out againt him harder than ever, always multiplying the kicks against him, and was
straying off the road in her fright through the bushes, hedges, and ditches. With
the result that she quite bashed in his skull, so that his brains fell out near
the Hosanna Cross; then came the arms, in pieces, one here, one there, likewise
the legs; then she made one long carnage of the bowels; so that when the filly
reached the monastery, all she bore of him was his right foot and the entangled
shoe.

"'Villon, seeing that it had come out as he had planned, said to his devils:
"You'll play well, Sir Devils, you'll play well, I promise you. O how well you'll
play! I defy the devil-crew of Saumur, Doue Montmorillon, Langeais, Saint Epain,
ngers, or indeed, by God, of Poitiers with their great hall, in case they can even
be compared to you. O how well you'll play!"

"'So; said Basche, 'I foresee, my good friends, that from now on you will play
this tragic farce well, seeing that at the rehearsal and trial you drubbed, whack-
ed and tickled Shysteroo so eloquently. Right now I'm doubling your wages for you
all.

"'You, my dear,' he said to his wife, 'do your set of honors as you like. You have
all my wealth in your hands and keeping. As for me, first I drink to you all, my
good friends. Come on now, it's nice and cool. Second, you, my steward, take these
two gilt silver goblets. Your pages are not to be whipped for three months. My
dear, give them my fine white plumes with the gold spangles. Sir Oudart, I give
you this silver flagon. This other I give to the cooks. To the valets I give this
silver hammer, to the grooms I give this silver gilt vase; to the porters I give
these two plates; to the muleteers, these ten soupspoons and this comfit box. You
lackeys, take this big saltcellar. Serve me well, friends, I'll remember you; and
believe me, I'd rather, by the power of God, endure a hundred blows on my helmet
in war in the service of our best of kings than be summoned once by these Shyster-
oo curs, for the sport of a fat prior like that one!'"



CHAPTER 14


Continuation of the Shysteroos
drubbed in the house of Baschi.


FOUR days later another Shystcroo, young, tall and thin, went to serve a
summons on Basche at the fat prior's request. On his arrival he was im-
mediately recognized by the porter, and the bell tolled. At the sound of
it all the community of the chateau understood what was afoot. Loyre was
kneading his dough. His wife was sifting the flour. Oudart was minding
his office. The gentlemen were playing tennis. Lord Basche was playing
three hundred and three' with his wife. The younger ladies were playing
spillikins.2 The officers were playing imperiale.3 The pages were playing
morn' with vigorous finger-snaps. Everyone understood immediately that
Shysteroo was around. Then Oudart started to get dressed up again, Loyre
and his wife to put on their finery, Trudon to play his flute and beat
his drum, each one to laugh, everyone to get ready, and forward march,
gauntlets.

"Basche goes down to the courtyard. There Shysteroo, on meeting him, fell
on his knees before him, asked him not to take it amiss if he cited him
on behalf of the fat prior, pointed out to him in an eloquent speech how
he was a public personage, a servant of the monkery, summoner for the
mitred abbot, ready to do as much for him, indeed for the least in his
house, whenever he would like to use and command him. 'Really,' said his
lordship, 'you're not going to serve a summons on me without having a
drink of my good Quinquenais wine and attending the wedding I'm having
shortly. Sire Oudart, see that he has a drink and a chance to freshen up,
then bring him into the hall. And do you be welcome!'

"Shysteroo, well supplied with food and drink, comes into the hall with
Oudart, in which were all the characters in the farce, in place and ready
to go. At his entrance everybody began to smile. Shysteroo was laughing
sociably when the mysterious words were spoken over the betrothed, hands
clasped, the bride kissed, everyone sprinkled with holy water. While they
were bringing on the wine and spices, fisticuffs began to fly. Shysteroo
hit Oudart several times. Oudart had his gauntlet hidden under his sur-
plice; he puts it on like a mitten. Then to drubbing Shysteroo, and blows
from all sides with young gauntlets raining on Shysteroo.

"'A wedding,' they kept saying, 'a wedding, a wedding! Remember it!'

"He was so well attended that blood was coming out of his mouth, his nose,
his ears, his eyes. Moreover, all battered down, crushed, and bruised,
head, neck, back, chest, arms, everywhere. Believe me, even in Avignon at
Carnival time, the young men never slapped anyone around more melodiously
than was done on Shysteroo. Finally he falls to the ground. They threw
wine aplenty on his face, fastened to the sleeve of his doublet a fine
green and yellow costume,' and put him on his sniffling horse. Back in
L'Isle Bouchard, I don't know whether he was well tended and treated by
his wife and the local doctors. There has been nothing heard of him since.

"On the next day a similar case occurred, because in the bag and game-
pouch of the thin Shysteroo his summons had been found. On behalf of the
fat prior a fresh Shysteroo was sent to serve a summons on the Lord of
Basche, with two witnesses for his security. The porter, ringing the bell,
gladdened the whole family when they understood that Shysteroo was there.
Sasebo was at table, dining with his wife and gentlemen. He sends for
Shysteroo, seats him next to him, the witnesses next to the ladies, and
they all dined very well and joyously. At dessert Shysteroo gets up from
the table, and in the presence and earshot of the witnesses serves his
summons on Basche.

"Basche graciously asks him for a copy of his warrant. It was already
prepared. He takes written proof of his summons. Four sun-crowns were
given to Shysteroo and his witnesses. Everyone had left the room to pre-
pare for the farce. Trudon begins to beat his drum. Basche asks Shysteroo
to attend the wedding of an officer of his and to approve the contract,'
on payment of a good healthy fee. Shysteroo was polite, pulled out his
escriptoire; promptly got paper, his witnesses next to him. Loyre enters
the hall by one door, his wife with the ladies by another, dressed for a
wedding. Oudart, in his priestly garb, takes them by the hands, questions
them about their intentions, gives them his benediction without sparing
the holy water. The contract is signed and recorded. From one direction
wines and spices are brought in; from another heaps of livery, white and
tanned; from another, gauntlets are secretly brought out."



CHAPTER 15


How by Shysteroos are renewed
the ancient wedding customs.


"SHYSTEROO, after guzzling a big glass of Breton wine, said to the lord:
'Sir, how do you mean that? Don't you give wedding-taps here? Holy Goose's
blood,' all good customs are getting lost: and so you don't find hares in
their lairs any more. There are no more friends. See how in many churches
they've abandoned the old tippling to the blessed saints O O at Christmas!
The world is in its dotage; it's coming near its end. Now just look: a wed-
ding, a wedding!'

"So saying, he was banging on Bascht and his wife, and after them on the
ladies and on Oudart.

"Thereupon gauntlets did their work, so that Shysteroo had his skull crack-
ed in nine places; one of the witnesses had his right arm banged out of
joint, the other had his upper jaw dislocated, so that it half covered his
chin, baring the uvula and knocking out a lot of teeth: molars, masticators,
and canines [des dens molares, masticatoires et canines].

"At the sound of the drum changing its beat, the gauntlets were hidden with-
out anyone's noticing, and sweetmeats passed around again, with fresh rejoic-
ing. As the jolly companions drank to each other, and everyone to Shysteroo
and his witnesses, Oudart was swearing off and speaking spitefully of wed-
dings, alleging that one of the witnesses had disincomifistibulated his whole
other shoulder;' this notwithstanding, he kept drinking to him merrily. The
demandibulated [Le records demandibule] witness was clasping his hands and
tacitly asking his pardon, for speak he could not. Loyre kept complaining
that the de-armed witness had hit him so hard on the other elbow with his
fist that he'd got him all shrdlucripplogrillachortlificated way down in
his heel.

"'But,' Trudon kept saying, hiding his left eye with his handkerchief and
displaying his drum knocked in on one side, 'what harm had I done them? It
wasn't enough for them thus to have roughly nuzzlefizzledtizzledackbacksock-
ed my poor eye; besides that they've knocked in my drum on me. Wedding drums
are ordinarily beaten; but drummers well feted, beaten never. Let the Devil
try that one on for a nightcap!'

"'Brother,' said one-armed Shysteroo, 'I'll give you a nice big old Royal
Letter-Patent, which I have here in my baldrick, to patch up your drum; and
in the name of God, forgive us. By Our Lady of Riviere, the fair lady, I
meant no harm!'

"One of the grooms, as he nipped and swigged, was limping in a good imper-
sonation of the noble Lord de la Rocheposay. He addressed the witness that
was driveling from his drooping jaw that hung down like a helmet beaver,
and said to him: 'Are you one of the frapins, the heavy hitters, or the
belly-bumpers?' Wasn't it enough for you to have so roughly snoutcrapgutan-
buttmorgatysackbackpopsmashed all my upper members with great kicks from
your clodhoppers, without giving us such snatchcatchadoodahodgepodgehum-
drummings on our shins with the sharp points of your boots? Do you call
that "Youth must have its day?" By God, youth it may be, but it's not play!"°

"The witness, clasping his hands, seemed to be begging his pardon for it,
murmuring like a baby: 'My, my, fly, fie, bye, bye."'

"The new bride was crying as she laughed, laughing as she cried, because
Shysteroo had not been content to baste her with no choice or selection a-
mong her members, but, after churlishly disheveling her hair, besides had
treacherously swattwotchinklcinkbruiseabused" her private parts.

"'Devil take his share in it!' said Basche. 'It was very necessary that Mr.
King here [Monsieur Le Roy] (that was Shysteroo's name) sure had to go give
me a bang like that on my little old lady of a backbone! I bear him no
grudge, however. Those are little nuptial caresses. But I clearly perceive
that he summoned me like an angel and basted me like a devil. He has some-
thing of the Banging Friar [Frere Frappart] about him. I drink to him with
all my heart, and to you too, Sir Witnesses!'

"'But,' said his wife, 'to what purpose and on what provocation did he treat
and fete me so generously with his best Sunday punches?" Devil take him if I
want that. However I don't want it, so help me God! But I'll say this for
him: he has the hardest knuckles I ever felt on my shoulders.'

"The steward was keeping his left arm in a sling as being all bingbangbroken."
'It's the Devil,' said he, 'who had me attend this wedding. By the Power of
God, all I've got out of it is both arms pulpedgulpedpulverized" and battered.
Do you call that a wedding? I call it a shiny turding." This, by God, is the
true-to-life feast of the Lapiths, described by the philosopher from Samosata
[Lucian ca. A.D. I I 5-200].'

"Shysteroo was out of words. The witnesses made the excuse that in thumping
so hard they had borne no ill will, and begged forgiveness for the love of
God.

"So they leave. A half league from there, Shysteroo felt a little bad. The
witnesses arrived in L'Isle Bouchard, stating publicly that they had never
seen a finer man than the lord of Basche, or a more honorable house than
his. Also, that they had never been to such a wedding. But the fault was
all theirs, for they had begun the banging. And they were still alive I
don't know how many days afterward.

"From there on out it was maintained as a certainty that Basche's money
was more pestilential, deadly, and pernicious to Shysteroos and witnesses
than ever was the gold of Toulouse" and Sejus's hone to those who possess-
ed it. Since then the said lord has been at peace and quiet, and Basche
weddings a common proverb."



CHAPTER 16


How Frere Jean makes trial
of the nature of the Shysteroos.


"THIS Story," said Pantagruel, "would seem merry, were it not that we must
continually have the fear of God before our eyes."

"Better, it would have been," said Epistemon, "if the downpour of those
young gauntlets had fallen on the fat prior. He was spending money for his
sport, partly to annoy Basche partly to see his Shysteroos drubbed. A tat-
too of fists would have aptly adorned his shaven pate, considering the e-
normous extortion that we sec today among these auxiliary judges under the
village elm.' What offense had these poor devil Shysteroos committed?" 2

"I am reminded," said Pantagruel, "in this connection, of an ancient Roman
Gentleman named Lucius Neratius. He was of a noble family and rich in his
time. But there was in him a tyrannical spirit such that when he came out
of his palace, he had his servants' game-pouches filled with gold and sil-
ver coins, and when in the street he met some well-dressed, fashionable
fops, without any provocation from them he would deliberately give them a
few punches in the face. Then right away, to appease them and keep them
from filing a complaint at law, he would pass out money to them, so well
that he would leave them content and satisfied, by the ordinance of the
Law of the Twelve Tables.' Thus he spent his income, beating people for
the price of his money."

"By the holy tun of Saint Benedict!" said Frere Jean, "I'll know the truth
of it shortly." Thereupon he goes ashore, put his hand to his wallet, and
pulled out of it twenty sun-crowns. Then he said in a low voice in the
presence and hearing of a great mob of the Shysteroovian people: "Who
wants to earn twenty crowns for getting a devil of a beating?" "Yo, yo,
yo," they all answered. "You'll beat us sensles, Sir, that's for sure.
But that's good money."

And they all came running up in droves, to see who would have first crack
at getting such a precious beating. Out of the whole rabble, Frere Jean
chose one red-snouted Shysteroo, who wore on the thumb of his right hand
a great broad silver ring, in the bezel of which was set quite a big
toadstone.*

When he had chosen him, I saw all this populace murmuring, and heard a
tall thin young Shysteroo, able and well educated so the report ran, a
decent man in the ecclesiastical court, complaining and murmuring that
the Red-Snout was taking all their practice from them, and that if, in
the entire territory, there were only thirty blows of a stick to earn,
he would always pocket twenty-eight and a half of them. But all these
complaints and murmurs emanated only from envy.

Frere Jean drubbed Red-Snout so much, so very much, back and belly,
arms and legs, head and all, with great blows of his stick, that I thought
he was beaten to death; then he gave him twenty crowns; and here's my
lout on his feet, cheery as a lark or a king or two.' The others kept
saying to Frere Jean:

"Sir Fra Diavolo! if you'd like to beat anyone else for less money,
we're all yours, Sir Devil. We're each and every one yours, sacks,
papers, pens, and all."

Red-Snout cried out against them, saying loudly: "FeataGod! you good-
for-nothing bums, are you poaching on my territory? Are you trying to
steal and seduce my customers? I summon you before the ecclesiastical
judge for a week from today, calloo, callay! I'll shyster you like a
Vauvert devil!" Then, turning a smiling joyous face toward Frere Jean,
he said: "Reverend Father in the Devil, Sir, if you've found me good
goods and would like to have some more sport beating me, I'll be con-
tent with half the money, as a fair price. Don't spare me, please. I'm
all, indeed all, yours, Sir Devil, head, lungs, bowels and all. I tell
you this as a friend!"

Frere Jean interrupted his talk and turned off in another direction.
The other Shysteroos kept heading toward Panurge, Epistkmon, Gymnaste,
and others, piously entreating them to beat them at a low price; other-
wise they were in danger of some long fasting. But no one would hear
of it.

Later, while looking for fresh water for the ship's crew, we came a-
cross two local Shysterettes [Chiquanourres], who were wretchedly weep-
ing and lamenting
together.

Pantagruel had stayed aboard the ship and was already having them sound
recall. We, suspecting that they were related to the Shysteroo who had
had the beatings, asked about the causes of such a lament. They replied
that they had very good reason to weep, seeing that at the present mo-
ment two of the finest worthy people in Shystroovia had been given the
monk by the neck at the gallows.'

"My page," said Gymnaste, "give the monk" by the feet to their corn.;
lades when they're sleepy-heads. To give the monk by the neck would, be
to hand and strangle the person."

"True," said Frere Jean; "you're talking about it like Saint Jean de la
Palisse."

Questioned about the reasons for this hanging, they answered that the
two had stolen the instruments for Mass [les ferremens de la messe] and
hidden them beneath the bell-tower [soubs le manche de la paroece].

"That," said Epistemon, "is spoken in a terrible allegory."



CHAPTER 17


How Pantagruel passed the islands of Tohu and Bohu,
and of the strange death of Bringuenarilles,
the windmill-swallower.


THAT same day Pantagruel passed The two islands of Tohu and Bohu,'
where we found nothing cooking. Bringuenarilles,3 the great giant, had
swallowed all the pots, pans, caldrontkettles, dripping-pans, and boilers,
for lack of windmills, on which he ordinarily fed. Whence it came about
that a little before daybreak, at his time for digesting, he had fallen seri-
ously ill from a certain unreadiness of the stomach brought on (so the
doctors say) because the concoctive power of his stomach, naturally apt
for digesting windmills in full whirl, had not been able to digest com-
pletely the pots and kettles; the caldrons and boilers it had digested pretty
well as they (the doctors) said they could tell from the precipitates and
sediment in four puncheons of urine that he had voided in two trips that
morning.

To make him better they used various remedies in the manner of the
art. But the illness was stronger than the remedies. And that morning the
noble Bringuenarilles had passed away in a fashion so strange that we
should no longer be amazed at the death of Aeschylus:4 He, since it had
been predicted to him as fated by the soothsayers, that on a certain day
he would die from the fall of something that would drop on him, on that
destined day had moved away from the city, from all houses, rocks, and
other things that could fall and harm someone by their fall. And he stayed
in the middle of a great open field, entrusting himself to the faith of a
clear open sky, in the surest safety, so it seemed to him, unless the sky
really fell, which he thought was impossible.

However, they say larks have a great dread of the skies' falling, for if the
skies fell, they would all be caught. So was this dreaded in other days by
the Celts living near the Rhine: those are the noble, valiant, knightly,
warlike, and triumphant French, who questioned by Alexander the Great
asking what thing they feared most in the world (in good hope that they
would make an exception of him alone in consideration of his great exploits,
victories, conquests, and triumphs), replied that they were afraid of no-
thing except that the sky would fall; that nevertheless they would not
refuse to enter into alliance, confederation, and friendship with such
a valiant magnaniMous king. If you believe Strabo,5 Book 7, and Arrian
Books', Plutarch too, in the book he wrote On the face in the moon, al-
leges a man named Phenaces, who was much afraid that the moon would
fall upon the earth, and felt commiseration and pity for those who dwell
under it, as do the Ethiopians and Taprobanians,6 if such a great mass
fell upon them. He had a similar fear about the earth and sky, if they
were not duly sustained and supported on the pillars of Atlas,' as the
opinion of the ancients held, according to Aristotle, Book 5, Meta to phys
[Metaphysics].

Aeschylus, this notwithstanding was killed by the drop and fall of a tor-
toise's carapace, which, falling on his head from the talons of an eagle
high in the air, split open his skull.

Besides Anacreon, a poet, who died choking on a grapeseed. Besides
Fabius, a Roman praetor, who died suffocating on a goat's hair, as he
drank a bowlful of milk. Also {Plus de] that bashful one who, for holding
his wind and failing to fart one lousy time, suddenly died in the presence
of Claudius, the Roman emperor [Suetonius Life of Caludius 12]. Also the
one who is buried on the Via Flaminia in Rome, who in his epitaph
complains of dying from being bitten by a tabbycat on his little finger."
Also Quintus Lecanius Bassus, who suddenly died of a needle-prick on
the thumb of his left hand so small you could hardly see it. Also
Quenelault, a Norman doctor, who passed away suddenly at Montpellier,
as a result of taking a hand-worm out of his hand slantwise with a
penknife.

Also Philemon, for whom his valet had prepared as an appetizer some fresh-
plucked figs. In the time he spent first at his wine, a ballocky stray
donkey had come into the house, and was devoutly eating the figs that
were set out. When Philemon came upon him and carefully contemplated the
grace of this sycophagous [fig-eating] donkey, he said to his returning
valet:

"It's only right that since you've left the figs to this pious donkey,
you set out for him some of this good wine you've brought."

Having said these words, he was seized with such excessive merriment
of spirit, and burst into such uncontrollable laughter, that such
overexertion of the spleen [l'exercice de la ratelle] stopped his
breathing entirely, and suddenly he died.

Also Spurius Saufeius, who died gulping down a soft-boiled egg on
coming out of the bath. Also the one who Boccaccio says died suddenly
from cleaning his teeth with a sprig of sage [Decameron 4.7]. Also
Philippot Placut, who, when hale and hearty, without any preceding
malady, suddenly died paying an old debt. Also Zeuxis the painter, who
suddenly died by dint of laughing, as he looked at the sour puss and
picture of an old hag whose portrait he had painted [Erasmus Adages
3.5.1 , after Pliny]. Also a thousand others they tell you about, whether
Verrius, or Pliny, or Valerius, or Baptista Fulgosus, or Bacabery the
Elder.'

The good Bringuenarilles, alas! choked to death eating a pat of fresh
butter on his doctors' orders by the mouth of a hot oven.

There, besides, we were told that the king of Cullan on Bohu had
defeated the satraps of King Mechloth and sacked the fortresses of
Belima.'" Later, we passed the islands of Pish and Tush [Nargues et
Zargues]. Also the islands of Teleniabin and Geneliabin,"very beautiful
and fruitful in the matter of enemas, Also the islands of Enig and Evig,
from which had come earlier the stab in the back" of the Landgrave
of Hesse.



CHAPTER 18


How Pantagruel came safely
through a mighty tempest at sea.


THE next day we encountered to starboard nine big transport ships
loaded with monks Jacobins, Jesuits, Capuchins, Hermits, Augustines,
Bernardins, Celestins, Theatins, Egnatians, Amadeans, Cordeliers,
Carmelites, Minims, and other holy religious—who were going to the
Council of Chesil' to scrutinize and garble [grabeler] the articles of
faith against the new heretics. At the sight of them Panurge went wild with
joy, as being assured of having all good fortune for that day and a long
stretch of days thereafter. And after courteously greeting the blessed fa-
thers and commending the salvation of his soul to their pious prayers and
small favors [leurs devotes prieres et menuz suffraiges], he had tossed into
their ships seventy-eight dozen hams, quantities of caviar, tens of black
puddings [cervelatz], hundreds of mullets, and two thousand lovely
angelots for the souls of the deceased.

Pantagruel remained all pensive and melancholy. Frere Jean noticed it
and was asking him the cause of such unaccustomed low spirits, when the
captain, considering the tumblings of the pennant on the stern and fore-
seeing a cruel squall and then a fresh tempest, ordered a general alert for
sailors, apprentice seamen, and ship-boys, alco-for us passengers; had sails
lowered, mizzen, after-mizzen [contremejane], jury sail [triou], mainsail
[maistralle], epagon, spritsail [civadiere]; had the bowlines loosened, the
main topsail, fore-topsail, mizzenmast taken down, leaving nothing of the
yards but the ratlines and shrouds.

Suddenly the sea began to swell and boil up from the lower depths; migh-
ty waves to batter our ship's sides; the mistral, together with a furi-
ous squall, black thunderstorms, terrible whirlwinds, deadly squalls,
whistling through our yards; from the heavens on high coming thunder
and lightning, rain, hail; the air losing transparency, becoming opaque,
darksome, and obscure, so that no light came to us except thunder and
lightning and breaks in flaming cloud, the gusts, squalls, whirlwinds and
hurricanes flaming all around us from the thunder sheet and forked light-
ning, and other emissions; we looked all shocked and upset; horrific
typhoons held the mountainous waves up above the surface. Believe me,
it seemed to us to be the ancient Chaos,' in which fire, air, sea, land,
all the elements were in obstinate confusion.

Panurge, having well fed the scatophagous fishes with the contents of
his stomach, remained squarring on deck, all upset, all beat, and half
dead; invoked all the blessed saints, men and women to his aid; vowed he
would make confession at some time and place, then in great terror cried
out and said: "Steward, ho! my friend, my father, my uncle, bring out
something salty; we'll soon have only too much to drink, from what I
see! Eat light and drink hearty, henceforth that shall be my motto.
Would God and the most blessed, most worthy, and holy Virgin, that
now, I mean at this very moment, I were on terra firma safe and sound
and at ease!

"O how thrice and four times happy are those who plant cabbages! O
Fates, why didn't you spin me one to be a planter of cabbages? O how
small is the number of those to whom Jupiter confers such favor that he
destined them to plant cabbages! For they always have one foot on land,
and the other is not far away. Whoever wants to may dispute about
happiness and the supreme good; but whoever plants cabbages is now to
my decree declared supremely happy, on far better grounds than Pyrrho,
who, being in danger like what we're in now and seeing a pig near
the shore eating scattered barley, declared him to be most happy in
two respects: to wit, that he had plenty of barley, and moreover he was
on land.'

"Ha! for a divine and lordly abode there is nothing like solid ground [le
plancher des vaches]. Savior God, this wave is going to sweep us away! O
my friends, a little vinegar! I'm sweating like a horse from the strain.
Alas! The halyards have snapped, the bow-rope is in pieces, the eyelets are
splitting, the topmast is plunging into the sea, our keel is out sunning
itself our cables are almost all broken. Alas, alack! Where are our topsails?
All is frelore bigoth! 5 Our main topmast is adrift. Alas! Who will this
wreck belong to? Friends, lend me a hand here aft of one of those handrails!
Lads, your lantern has fallen. Alas! Don't let go of the rudder nor the
bowline, I hear the pintle rattling. Is it broken? For God's sake, let's
save the tackle; don't worry about the stays. Bebebe bous bous bous!' Look
and see from your compass needle, Master Stargazer [maistre Astrophile],7
from where this tempest is coming upon us. My faith, I really am scared.
Bou bou, bou bous bous! I'm beshitting myself in a frenzy of panic fear.
Bou bou, bou bou! Otto to to to to ti! Otto to to to to ti. Bou bou bou,
ou ou ou bou bou bous bous! I'm drowning, I'm drowning, I'm dying.
Good people. I'm drowning [Bonnes gens, je naye}."



CHAPTER 19


How Panurge and,Frere Jean
behaved during the tempest.


PANTAGRUEL, after first of all imploring the aid of Great God the Savior
and offered a public prayer of fervent piety,' on the captain's advice held
the mast firm and strong. Frere Jean had stripped to his doublet to help
out the sailors. The same was true of Epistemon, Ponocrates, and others.
Panurge stayed on his ass on deck, crying and wailing. Frere Jean, passing
along the quarter-deck, noticed him and said to him:

"By God, Panurge, you calf, you sniveler, Panurge, you howler, you'd
do a lot better to be helping us here than crying like a cow over there,
sitting on your balls like a monkey!"

"Be be be bous bous bous," replied Panurge, "Frere Jean, my friend,
my good father, I'm.drowning, my friend, I'm drowning, my friend, I'm
drowning! It's all up with me, my spiritual father! It's all over! Your
cutlass couldn't save me now! Alas, alas! We're up above Ela!' beyond the
whole gamut! Be be be bous bous! Alas! At this moment we are below
gamma ut! I'm drowning! Ha my father, my uncle, my all! The water's got
into my shoes through the collar. Bou bou bou whoosh hu hu hu ha ha
ha ha ha. I'm drowning! Alas, alas, boo hoo hoo boo hoo hoo! Blubblub
booblubblub blubblub, oh oh oh oh oh oh! Alas, alack! At this point I'm
just like a forked tree, head down, feet in the air? Would God I were
right now in the transport we met this morning with the good blessed
concilipetic [council-seeking] fathers, so plump, so cheery, so sleek and
gracious. Alas, alas! Alack, alackaday! This wave of all the devils (mea
culpa, Deus), I mean this wave of God will sink our ship. Frere Jean, my
father, my friend, confession!"

"Come here, you devil's gallows-bird," said Frere Jean, "and lend us
a hand! In the name of thirty legions of devils, come on! . . . Will he
ever come?"

"Let's not swear," said Panurge, "my father, my friend, for the time
being! Tomorrow, all you like. Alas, alas, alack! Our boat is shipping
water. I'm drowning! Alas, alas! Be be be bou bou bou bou. Now we're
on the-bottom! Alas, alas! I'll give eighteen hundred thousand crowns a
year in revenue to anyone who sets me on land, all beshitten and turd-
smeared as I am, if ever a man was in my crappy country. ConFrereor! Just
one little word as a will, or at least as a codicil!"

"A thousand devils," said Frere Jean, "jump on the body of this cuck-
old! Power of God! Are you talking about a will, at this moment when
we're in danger and when it's up to us to do our damnedest now or
never! Will you come on, you devil? Bosun, my hearty, O lieutenant,
good man, back here! Gymnaste, here, on the poop! Power of God,
we're really done for this time! There,. our lantern's gone out. This is on
its way to all the millions of devils."

"Alas, alas!" said Panurge, "alas! Bou, bou, bou, bou! Alas, alack! Was it
here that we were predestined to perish? Alas, good folk, I'm drowning.
I'm dying! Consummatum est. It's all up with me!"

"Magna, gna,gna," said Frere Jean, "Fie! Is he ever ugly, that shitty
sniveler! Here, ship's-boy, ho! by all the devils, man the pump! Did you
hurt yourself? Power of God hand on to one of these bollards. Here, that
way, hey, by the devil! That's it, lad!"

"Ah, Frere Jean," said Panurge, "my spiritual father, my friend, let's not
swear! You're sinning. Alas, alas! Blub blubblub, I'm drowning, I'm dy-
ing, my friend! I forgive everybody. Farewell! In manus! Bou bou
bououou! Saint Michel d'Aure, Saint Nicholas, just this time and never
again! I hereby make a good vow to you and to Our Lord that if at this
time you help me,[mean you set me ashore out of this danger, I'll build
you a nice big little chapel or two,

Between Candes and Montsoreau,
Where no cow or calf shall go.6

"Alas, alas! I've 'had over eighteen buckets of water come into my
mouth. Bous bous bous bous! How bitter and salty it is!"

"By the powers," said Frere Jean, "of the blood, of the flesh, of the
belly, of the head!' If I hear you whimpering any more, you devil's
cuckold, I'll keelhaul you like a sea-wolf!8 Power of God! Why don't
we dump him down to the bottom of the sea? Oarsman [Hespaillier], good
old matey, this way, my friend! Hold tight up there! This is really
first-class thunder and lightning. I do believe all the devils are
loosed today, or that Proserpina is in labor with child. All the dev-
ils are doing a morris dance."



CHAPTER 20


How quartermastersoabandon ship
at the height of the tempest.'


"AHA!" said Panurge, "Frere Jean, my old-time friend, you're sinning!
Old-timer, say, for at present I am null, you are null.2 I'm sorry to tell
you so, for I think swearing like that does your spleen a lot of good,
even as a wood-chopppir gets great relief if at each stroke someone near
him shouts 'Hall!' in a loud voice at each stroke, and as a skittles-player
is wonderfully relieved, when he hasn't bowled straight, if some smart man
near him leans and half twists his body in the direction in which a well-
thrown ball would have made contact with the skittles. Nevertheless
you're sinning, my sweet friend. But, if right now we eat some sort of
goat stews [cabirotades], would we be in safety from this storm? I've read
that always safe at sea were the ministers of the Cabiri, gods so celebrated
by Orpheus, Apollonius, Pherecydes, Strabo, Pausanias, and Herodotus."

"He's raving," said Frere Jean, "poor devil. A thousand millions and
hundreds of millions of devils take the horned devil's cuckold! Help us
here, tiger!' Will he ever come? Here, to starboardq! By God's headful of
relics! What monkey's paternoster are you muttering there between your
teeth? That devil's sea-calf is the cause of the tempest, and he alone won't
heir& crew! By God, if I get there, I'll punish you as a tempestuous
devil would! Come here, apprentice, my cutey, that's a good lad! Would
God you were abbot of Talemouze,4 and the man who now is that was
warden of Le Croullay! Ponocrates, brother, you'll hurt yourself there.
Epistemon, watch out for that rail! I saw a lightning bolt strike it."

"Hoist!"

"Well said! Hoist, hoist, hoist! Launch the dinghy! Hoist! Power of
God, what's that there? The point of the beak-head [le cap] is in pieces.
Thunder, you devils, fart, belch, crap! Shit on that wave! Power of God,
it just missed sweeping me off under the current! I think all the millions
of devils are holding their provincial chapter here, or else plotting for the
election of a new rector."

To port!"

"Well said. 'Ware that pulley! Hey, ship's boy, by the devil, hey! Port,
port!"

"Blubblubboo boo," said Panurge, "boo boo blubblub boo boo, I'm
drowning.; I can't see either heaven or earth. Alas, alas! Out of the four
elements all we have left here are fire and water. Boobooboo boo boo!
Would to God's worthy Power I were at the present moment inside the
close at Saline, or at Innocent's pastry shop in front of the Painted Cellar
in Chinon, even on pain of having to strip to my doublet to cook the
little pasties! Say, matey, do you think you could throw me ashore? You
know so many good tricks, I'm told! I'll give you all Salmagundi and my
big snailshellery [ma grande cacquerolliere], if by your resourcefulness, I
ever get to terra firma. Alas, alas, I'm drowning! Good Lord, my fine
friends, since we can't reach a good port, let's ride this out, no matter
where.Prop all your anchors. Let's get out of danger, I beg of you. Here
honest friend get you into the chains and have the lead, if it please you.
Let us know how many fathoms of water we are in. Sound, friend, in
Lord Harry's name. Let's find out if you can drink here comfortably
standing up, without stopping. I kind of think so."

"Uretacque [To the rigging!],' ho!" cried the skipper, "uretacque!
Hands to the halyard! Helm a-lee [Amene uretacque]! Halyard! Rigging!
Watch out for the sail! Make fast! Make fast below! Hey, to the rigging!
Head on to the sea! Unhelm the tiller! Let 'er ride!"

"Have we come to that?" said Pantagruel. "May the good God the
Savior come to our aid!"

"Let 'er ride, ho!" cried Jamet Brahier, pilot of the flagship. Let 'er ride!
Let everyone think of his soul and fall to prayer, hoping for help only
from miracles from the heavens!"

"Let's," said Panurge, "make some nice pretty vow. Alas, alas, alas! Boo
hoo blubblubboo boo. Alas, alas! Let's back ourselves a pilgrim [faisons un
pelerin]. Here now, here now, everyone pitch in some nice little liards,
here now!"

"On this side, ho," said Frere Jean, "by all the devils! To starboard! Let
'er ride, in the name of God! Unhelm the tiller, ho! Let 'er ride! Let's
drink, ho! I mean some of the best and tastiest. Do you understand, up
there? Steward, bring it out, put it on! Anyway, all this is on its way to
all the millions of devils. Bring me here, my page, my drawer (so he called
his breviary).' Wait! Draw, my friend, so! Power of God, this really is
some hail and lightning! Hold good and fast up there, I beg you. When
shall we get to All Saints' Day? I think today is the unfestive festival
[l'infeste feste] of all the millions of devils."

"Alas!" said Panurge. "Frere Jean is damning himself well in advance.
O what a good friend I'm losing there! Alas, alas, here's worse than ever
before! We're going from Scylla to Charybdis, alas, I'm drowning!
ConFrereor [I confess!]! A little word or two about a will, Frere Jean my
father; Sir Abstractor,' my friend, my Achates; Xenomanes, my every-
thing. Alas, I'm drowning! Two words about a will. Look, here on this
ship's ladder."



CHAPTER 21


Continuation of the tempest,
and brief discourse on wills made at sea.


"To make a will at this time," said Epistemon, "when we should be
straining to help our crew on pain of being shipwrecked, seems to be as
importunate and untimely an action as was that of Caesar's subalterns and
favorites when he was entering Gaul, who were squandering their time
making wills and codicils, regretting their lot, bewailing the absence of
their wives and their Roman friends, when it behooved them to run to
their arms and do their utmost against their enemy Arivistus. It's a stupid-
ity like that of the carter who, when his cart was overturned in a field of
stubble, was on his knees imploring the aid of Hercules and not spurring
his oxen, not reaching out his hand to lift the wheels. What good will it
do you to make your will here? For either we will escape this danger or
we'll be drowned. If we escape, wills are not valid or authorized except
by the death of the testators. If we're drowned, won't it drown with us?
Who will take it to the executors?"

"Some kind wave," replied Panurge, "will cast it ashore as one did
Ulysses,' and some king's daughter, going out to play in the cool of the
evening, will come upori it, then will have built for me some magnificent
cenotaph,' as did Dido3 for her husband Sichaeus; Aeneas for Deiphobus
on the shore of Troy, filar Rhoete; Andromache for Hector in the city of
Buthrotum; Aristotle for Hermias and Eubulus; the Athenians for the
poet Euripides; the Romans for Drusus in Germany and for Alexander
Severus, their emperor, in Gaul; Argentarius for Callaeschrus; Xenocrates
for Lysidices; Timares for his son Teleutagoras; Eupolis and Aristodice for
their son Theotimus; Onestes for Timocles; Callimachus for Sopoles, son
of Dioclides; Catullus for his brother; Statius for his father; Germain de
Brie for the Breton mariner Herve."

"Are you out of your mind?" said Frere Jean. "Lend a hand here, in the
name of five hundred thousand and millions of cartloads of devils, help
us!, May the pox get you in your mustaches and three half ells of canker-
ous sores, to make you a pair of breeches and a new codpiece! Has our
ship run aground? Power of God, how shall we get free? Here's a very
devil of a sea running! We'll never escape, or the devils take me."

Then was heard a piteous exclamation from Pantagruel, saying aloud:

"Lord God, save us, we perish! 4 Nevertheless not as we wish, but Thy
Holy Will be done!"

"God and the blessed Virgin," said Panurge, "be ith us! Alas, alas, I'm
drowning! Blubblubblubblub, boo boo. In manus.6 Dear God, send me some
dolphin to bring me safe to land like a nice little Arion.7 I'll give out
good and loud on the harp, unless it's out of kilter."

"I'll give myself to all the devils," said Frere Jean ...

"God be with us!" Panurge kept muttering between his teeth.

"...If I come down there, I'll show you conclusively that your balls
hang down from the ass of a cuckoldy, antlered, broken-horned calf.
Nyuh, nyuh, nyuh! Come here and help us, you great blubbering calf, in
the name of thirty million devils, and may they jump all over your body!
Are you going to come, you sea-calf? What an ugly sight he is, that
sniveler!"

"That's all you ever say."

"Come here, my merry drawer, step forward, let me rub your feathers
back. 'Beatus vir qui non abiit [Blessed is the man who did not leave]."
I now all this by heart. Let's see the legend of Saint Nicholas.

Horrida tempestas montem turbavit acutum.
[A horrible tempest blasted the mountain peak.]

Tempeste was a great whipper of schoolboys at the College de
Montaigu. If for whipping little boys teachers are damned, he, 'pon my
honor, is on Ixion's wheel, whipping the curtal dog that turns it; if for
whipping innocent children they are saved, he must be above the..."



CHAPTER 22


End of the tempest


"LAND, land!" cried Pantagruel. "I see land! Lads, be brave as lambs!'
We're not far from port. To the. north I see sky, and it's starting to clear.
Now watch out for the sirocco."2

"Courage, lads!" said the skipper," the sea is lighter. Now she will hold
up the hullock of a sail. Hands, up to the main top! Hoist away! Haul
your aftermizzen bowlines! Tack to port! Helm aweather! Pull on the
starboard sheet,,you son of a whore!"

"You're feeling mighty good, my fine fellow," said Frere Jean to the
sailor, "to be hearing news of your mother."

"Stay close to the wind, but keep her full! Luff the tiller!"

"Cuffed it is," answered the sailors.

"Cut along! Head for the harbor! Now to the eyelets! Secure the
bonnes [que l'on coue bonnette]. Hoist, hoist!"

"Well said and right on!" said Frere Jean. "Come on, come on, come
on, lads, get into it! Good! Hoist, hoist!"

"To starboard!"

"Well said and right on! It seems to me the storm is easing up and
ending, and high time. Praise be to God for all that! Our devils are
beginning to hit the road [escamper dehinch]."

"The pier!"

"Spoken like a gentleman and a scholar.4 Pier, pier! Here, in the name
of God, Ponocrates, you husky rascal! He'll make nothing but male
children, the lecher! Eusthenes, you gallant man, run up the fore topsail!"

"Hoist!"

"Well said, hoist! In the name of God, hoist, hoist!"

"I wouldn't stoop to fearing anything, for today's a holiday, hey, hey!"

"This shout of the seamen," said Epistemon, "is not amiss and pleases
me, for it is a holiday."

"Hoist, hoist, good!"

"Oh!" cried Epistemon, "I command you all to have good hope. I see
Castor off there to the right."

"Blubblubblub blub boo boo!" said Panurge. "I'm much afraid it may
be that slut Helen."

"It really," said Epistemon, "is Mixarchagevas, if you prefer the Argive
name for him. Hey, hey! I see land, I see port, I see a large number of
people at the harbor. I see a flame atop a lighthouse."

"Hey, hey," said the skipper, "double the point and the rocks."

"Doubled she is," replied the sailors.

"Off she goes," said the skipper, "and so do the rest of the fleet. Help
in good weather."

"By Saint John!" said Panurge, "that's the way to talk! O what a nice
thing to say!"

"Nyuh, nyuh, nyuh [Mgna, mgna, mgna]," said Frere Jean. "If you get
to taste a drop of it, the devil taste me! Do you understand, you devil's
ballocksbag [couillu au diable]? Here, matey love, here's a full tankard of
the very best. Bring the flagons, hey, Gymnaste, and that great beast of an
iambic or ham pasty,' it's all one to me. Be sure you bring her in right
[Guardez de donner a travers]."

"Courage!" exclaimed Pantagruel, "courage, lads! Let's be polite. See,
here, near our ship, two skiffs, three barks, five ships, eight light fliers,
four gondolas, and six frigates, sent to our aid by the good people of this
next island. But who is that Ucalegon yonder howling and carrying on
so? Wasn't I holding the mast securely with both hands, and straighter
than two hundred cables would do?"

"It's that poor devil Panurge," replied Frere Jean, "who has calf's ague.
He trembles with fear when he's drunk."

"If," said Pantagruel, "he was scared during that horrible perilous tem-
pest, as long as he strove his utmost anyway, I have not a whit less esteem
for him. For, even as being afraid at any trouble at all is the mark of a
flabby coward's heart, as was Agamemnon, and for that reason Achilles
reproached him for the ignominy of having the eyes of a dog and the
heart of a stag [Iliad 1.225]; even so, to have no fear when the situation
is evidently redoubtable is a sign of some lack of apprehension. Now if
there is anything to be feared after offense to God, I do not want to state
that it is death. I don't want to get involved in the argument of Socrates
and the Academics, that death is not in itself an evil, death in itself is
not to be feared. For, as Homer's statement has it [Odyssey 5.312], it is a
dismal, abhorrent, and unnatural thing to perish at sea. Indeed Aeneas, in
the tempest by which his fleet was caught by surprise near Sicily, la-
mented not having died by the hand of the mighty Diomedes and said that
those were thrice and four times happy who had died in the burning of Troy
[Aeneid 1.94]. No one in here is dead: God the Savior be eternally praised
for it! But really, our place here is in bad shape; we'll have to repair this
wreck. Watch out that we don't run aground!"



CHAPTER 23


How, with the tempest over, '
Panurge plays the jolly good fellow.


"AHA!" cried Panurge, "all's well. The storm is past. Please, I beg you,
let me get off first. I'd like very much to go about my affairs a bit. Shall
I help you there some more? Give me that rope to coil. I have courage,
plenty of it, yes indeed. Of fear, very little. Give me that, my friend. No,
no, not a trace of fear. True enough, that decuman wave that swept me
from prow to stern did alter my pulse a bit."

"Lower sail!"

"Well said. What, you're not doing anything, Frere Jean? Is it really the
time for drinking at this point? How do we know but that Saint Martin's
lackey may be brewing another fresh storm for us? Shall I give you some
more help out of there? Power of a goose [Vertus guoy]! I do indeed
repent, but I'm doing so late; I didn't follow the teachings of the good
philosophers, who say that walking near the sea and sailing near land are
very safe, delightful things, like going on foot when you're holding your
horse by the bridle. Ha, ha, ha, by God, all goes well! Shall I help you
there some more? Hand me that, I'll certainly do that, or the devil will be
in it."

Epistemon had the inside of one hand all skinned and bleeding, from
having held one of the cables with might and main, and, hearing
Pantagruel's statement, said:

"Believe me, Lord, I felt no less fear and fright than did Panurge. But so
what? I didn't spare any efforts to help. I consider that if really it is of
necessity fatal and inevitable to die (as it is), at such or such a time,
yet to die in such or such a way is in the holy will of God. Therefore we
must ceaselessly implore, invoke, pray, ask, supplicate Him. But we must not
set our goal and limit there; for our part we should likewise put forth our
utmost efforts, and, as the Holy Envoy says, be co-operators with Him.
You know what the consul Flaminius said, wlien by Hannibal's wiles he
was hemmed in near the lake of Perugia called Trasimene. 'Lads,' he said
to his soldiers, 'you must not hope to get out of here by praying and
imploring the gods. We must escape from here by might and valor, and
with drawn swords make our way through the enemy.'

"Likewise in Sallust: 'The help of the gods,' says Marcus Portius Cato,
is not won by idle prayers, by womanish lamentations. By being watch-
ful, working, doing our utmost, all things turn out as we wish--safe and
sound. If, in all need and danger, a man is negligent, spineless, and
lazy, to no purpose does he implore the gods; they are irritated and
indignant.'".

"Devil take me . . . ," said Frere Jean.

"I'll go halves with you," said Panurge.

"If the close at Seale wouldn't have been all stripped of grapes and
destroyed, if I had just sung Contra hostium insidias [against the enemy's
wiles] (breviary matter), as all the rest of those poor devils the monks
were doing, without rescuing the vineyard by banging the staff of the
cross on those Lerne freebooters [contre les pillars de Lerner]."

"Let 'er rip [Vogue la gualere]!" said Panurge, "all goes well. Frere
Jean over there is doing nothing. He's known as Frere Jean Donothing,
and he's watching me here sweating and straining to help this worthy man.
Sailor, first of that name,' our dear friend, a word with you, if I'm not
bothering you. How thick are the planks of this ship?"

"They," replied the captain, "are a good two inches thick, don't be
afraid."

"Power of God!" said Panurge, "so we're continually just two inches
from death. Is this one of the nine joys of marriage?"'

"Aha! old friend, you do well to measure the peril by the ell of fear!"
"I have none of that, for my part; just call me William the Fearless. As
for courage, all that and more! I don't mean courage of a lamb; I mean
courage of a wolf, aplomb of a murderer. And there's nothing I fear
except dangers.'



CHAPTER 24


How by Frere Jean Panurge is declared
to have been scared without reason
during the storm.


"Good day, gentlemen!" said Panurge, "good day to one and all! Are
you well, each and every one of you? Thank God, yes, and you? Pray do
be most welcome and come at a good time. Let's go ashore. Oarsmen,
ho, put down the gangplank! Bring that dinghy alongside. Shall I give
you a hand again there? I'm hungry as a bear,' and with an appetite for
doing good and working like four oxen. Really, here's a nice place, and
good people. Lads, have you anything more for me to help you with? Don't
spare the sweat of my body, for the love of God! Adam, that is man, was
born to labor and toil, as a bird is to fly.' Our Lord wills (do you under-
stand that?) that we eat our bread by the sweat of our bodies,' doing
nothing like that drip of a monk you see, Frere Jean, who's drink-
ing and dying of fear.', Here's good weather. At this point I know that
the answer of Anacharsis, the noble philosopher, was true and well founded
in reason, when he, asked what kind of ship he thought was the safest, an-
swered: 'The one that's in port.'"

"Better yet," said Pantagruel, "when he, asked whether the number of
the dead or of the living was greater, asked: 'Among which ones do you
count people sailing at sea?' Subtly signifying that those who sail on
the sea are so close to the continual danger of death that they live dying
and die living. Thus Portius Cato used to say that he repented of three
things only: to wit, if he had ever revealed a secret of his to a woman;
if he had ever spent a day in idleness; and if he had taken a long sea voy-
age to a place otherwise accessible by land."

"By the worthy rock I wear," said Frere Jean to Panurge. "Old ballock
my friend, during the tempest you were scared without cause and with-
out reason. For your fated destinies are not to perish by water. You
will certainly be hanged high in the air or burned lusty as a Church
Father.' My Lord, would you like a good shelter against the rain? Give
up those cloaks lined with wolf-skin and badger-skin. Have Panurge
flayed and cover yourself with his skin. Don't go near the fire and don't
pass in front of a blacksmith's forges, in God's name! In a moment you'd
see it in ashes; but expose yourself all you like to rain, snow, and
hail.

In fact, by God! take a dive in it into the water; never will you get wet
from that. Make winter boots from it; never will they let in water. Make
of it winter bundles' for teaching young people to swim: they'll learn
without danger."

"So his skin," said Pantagruel, "would be like the plant called Venus's-
hair, which is never wet or dampened; it's always dry, even were it in
the deepest water for as long as you wish; therefore, it is called Adiantos"
[Greek for `unwetted].

"Panurge, my friend," said Frere Jean, "never be afraid of water, I
beseech you: by the opposite element will your life be ended."

"All right," replied Panurge, "but the devils' cooks sometimes doze off
and make mistakes in their work, and often put on to boil what was sup-
posed to be roasted; just as in the galley in there, the master chefs
often lard partridges, ringdoves, and pigeons, with the intention (as seems
likely) of putting them on to roast; it happens at all events that they
put on to boil partridges with cabbage, ringdoves with leeks, and pigeons
they put on to boil with turnips. Listen, my friends: I protest in front
of the noble company that, as for the chapel [chapelle] I vowed to My Lord
Saint Nicholas between Candes and Montsoreau,6 I mean that it shall be
a flask of rosewater [chapelle d'eau rose] in which no cow or calf shall
go, for I'll throw it into the bottom of the water."

"That's that sharpie for you," said Eusthenes, "that's that sharpie,
sharpie and a half! That shows the truth of the Lombard proverb:

Passato el pericolo, gabato el santo."
[Danger gone and by, saint high and dry.]


CHAPTER 25


How after the tempest Pantagruel went
ashore on the islands of the Macraeons.


AT that moment we landed at the port of the island they called the
island of the Macraeons. The good people of the place received us honor-
ably. An old Macrobe (so they called their senior aldermen) wanted to
bring Pantagruel to the town hall to refresh himself at his ease and have
a bit of food. But he wouldn't leave the pier until all his men had landed.
After checking on them, he ordered everyone to change his clothes and
for all the supplies on the ship to be laid out on land, so that all the
crews should have a good feast, which was promptly done.

And Lord only knows what drinking and feasting went on. All the
people of the place brought victuals in abundance. The Pantagruelists
gave them even more. True it is that 2 their provisions were somewhat
damaged by the tempest just before. When the meal was over, Pantagruel
asked each and every one to do his best and his duty to repair the wreck-
age, which they did with a will. The repairing was easy, because all the
people of the island were carpenters and all artisans such as you see in
the Arsenal in Venice; and the big island was inhabited only in three ports
and ten parishes;' the rest was overrun with high woods, and as deserted as
if it were the forest of the Ardennes.'

On our urging, the old Macrobe showed us what was notable and worth
visiting on the island. And in the dark, uninhabited forest, he revealed
several old ruined temples, several ancient obelisks, pyramids, monu-
ments, and sepulchers with diverse inscriptions and epitaphs, some
in hieroglyphics, others in the Ionic tongue, others in Arabic, Hagarene,4
Slavonic, and other tongues. Of which Epistemon scrupulously made a
copy.

Meanwhile Panurge said to Frere Jean: "This is the island of the
Macraeons here. Macraeon in Greek means 'old man, a man who has lived
many years.'".

"What," replied Frere Jean, "do you want me to do about that name?
Do you want me to get rid of it? I wasn't even in the country when it
was baptized."

"By the way," said Panurge," "I think the noun maquerelle [bawd] is
derived from it. For running iThawdy-house [maquerellaige] is suited
only for old women. The young ones are suited for tail-pushing. There-
fore it would seem likely that here was the Maquerelle island, the origi-
nal and prototype of the one there is in Paris.' Let's go fish for oysters
in the shell."

The old Macrobe, in Ionic language, was asking Pantagruel by what
labor and assiduity he had reached their port that day, when there had
been such a horrific disturbance in the air and tempest on the sea.
Pantagruel answered him that the Savior above had had consideration for
the simplicity and disinterested motivation of his people, who were not
traveling for gain or traffic in merchandise. One sole cause had sent
them to sea, to wit, an earnest desire to see, to learn, to inwardly di-
gest, visit the oracle of Bacbuc and get the word of the Bottle about
certain problems posed by someone in the company. However, this had not
been without great affliction and evident danger of shipwreck. Then he
asked what he thought was the cause of this frightful hurricane, and
whether the oceans adjacent to this one were ordinarily subject to tem-
pest, as, in the Ocean Sea,' are the straits of Saint-Mathieu and Mau-
musson, and, in the Mediterranean Sea, the Gulf of Adalia, Montargentas
[Porto di Telamone, in Tuscany], Piombino, Capo Melio in Laconia, the
Strait of Gibraltar, the Strait of Messina, and others.



CHAPTER 26


How the good Macrobe tells Pantagruel
about the abode and departure of heroes.'


THEREUPON the good Macrobe replied: "Peregrine2 friends, this is one
of the Sporades Islands, not one of your Sporades that are in the
Carpathian Sea, but one of the Ocean Sporades, once rich, frequented,
opulent, mercantile, populous, and subject to the ruler of Britain; now,
by the lapse of time and upon the decline of the world, poor and de-
serted, as you see.

"In this dark forest you see, more than seventy-eight thousand
parasangs long and wide, is the dwelling-place of the Daemons and He-
roes who have grown old; and we believe--since the comet no longer
shines which appeared to us for three whole preceding days that one of
them died yesterday, upon whose decease was stirred up that horrible
tempest you suffered. For, while they live, every good abounds in this
place and other nearby islands, and on the sea is perpetual calm and serene
weather. At the death of each and every one of these, we ordinarily hear
through the forest great piteous lamentations, and see on land plagues,
storms, and afflictions, in the air disturbances and darkness, at sea
tempest and hurricane."

"There is much likelihood," said Pantagruel, "in what you say. For even
as the torch or candle, all the time it is alive and burning, shines on
those present, lights up everything around, delights each and every one,
and displays its utility and its light, harms and displeases no one at the
moment it is extinguished, infects the air by its smoke and vapor, harms
those present, and displeases everyone; so it is with these noble and
notable souls. All the time they dwell in their bodies; their stay is peace-
ful, useful, delightful, honorable; upon the moment of their decease,
there commonly occur throughout the islands and continent great distur-
bances in the air, darkness, lightning bolts, hailstorms; on land, tremors,
earthquakes, astonishments; at sea, hurricane and tempest, with lamenta-
tions of peoples, changes of religions, removals of kingdoms, overthrows
of states."

"We," said Epistemon, "have seen this by experience not long ago on
the death of the valiant and learned knight Guillaume du Bellay,3 during
whose life France enjoyed such felicity that the whole world was envious
of her, all the world wanted to be her ally, all the world dreaded her.
Immediately after his death, she came to be held in all the world's scorn
for a very long time."

"Thus," said Pantagruel, "after the death of Anchises at Trapani in
Sicily [Aeneid 3.707-708], the tempest gave Aeneas a terrible time. This
may perhaps be the reason why Herod,4 the tyrant and cruel king of
Judaea, seeing himself near a death horrible and frightful in nature (for he
died of phthiriasis [pediculosis], devoured by worms and lice [Acts 12.23],
as earlier had died Lucius Sulla; Pherecydes the Syrian, tutor of Pyth-
agoras; the Grecian poet Alcman; and others), and foreseeing that at his
death the Jews would light bonfires to celebrate, had all the nobles and
magistrates from all the cities, towns and castles in Judaea assemble in
his seraglio, under the fraudulent color of wanting to communicate to them
matters of importance for the governance and protection of the province.
When they had come and appeared in person, he had them locked up in
the hippodrome of the seraglio. Then he said to his sister Salome and her
husband Alexander: 'I'm quite sure the Jews will rejoice at my death; but
if you will hear and carry out what I'll tell you, my obsequies will be
honorable and marked by public lamentation. The moment I have died,
have killed, by the archers of my guard, to whom I have given express
commission for this, all these nobles and magistrates who are locked up
in here. By your doing this, all Judaea, in spite of itself, will be in
mourning and lamentation, and it will seem to foreigners that it is be-
cause of my decease, as if some heroic soul had passed away.'

"As much did one desperate tyrant hope for when he said: 'When I die,
let the earth be intermingled with fire." That is to say: 'Let the whole
world perish.' Words which that villain Nero changed, saying: 'While
I live,' as Suetonius attests. This detestable statement, mentioned by
Cicero, Book 3 De finibus, and Seneca, Book 2 De clemjntia, is attributed
by Dion Nicaeus and Suidas to the Emperor Tiberius."



CHAPTER 27


How Pantagruel discourses on the departure of
certain heroic souls, and of the horrific prodigies that
accompanied the demise of the late lord of Langey.


"I wouldn't want," continued Pantagruel, "to have been spared the
storm at sea, which caused us so much vexation and trouble and so not
to have heard what this good Macrobe told us.2 Furthermore, I am easily
induced to believe what he told us about the comet seen in the air for
some days preceding such a decease. For certain such souls are so noble,
precious, and heroic, that notice of their departure and death is given
us by the heavens for a few days beforehand.

"And as the prudent doctor, seeing by the signs and prognostics his
patient entering upon his way down to death, by few days ahead warns
the wife, children, relatives, and friends of the impending decease of
the husband, father, or neighbor, so that they may admonish him to put
his house in order exhort and bless his children, commend his wife's
widowhood, declare what he knows will be necessary for the upkeep of the
underage children, and not be surprised by death without waking a will
and leaving orders concerning his soul and his household: likewise the
benevolent heavens, as if joyful at receiving another of these blessed souls,
before their decease, seem to light bonfires of joy by such meteoric appa-
ritions, which the heavens wish to be to humans as a certain prognostic
and truthful prediction that in a few days such venerable souls will leave
their bodies and the earth.

"No more nor less than in Athens of old the Areopagite judges, voting
on the judgment of imprisoned criminals, used certain notations accord-
ing to the variety of the verdicts: by Q [theta] meaning condemnation to
death Ithanatos]; by T [tau], absolution; by A [alpha] amplification, to
wit, when the case was not yet liquidated;3 these, publicly displayed, freed
from worry and anxiety the relatives, friends, and others curious to hear
what would be the outcome and the verdict on the malefactors detained
in prison. Thus by such comets, as if by ethereal signals, the heavens
tacitly say: 'Mortal men, if from these happy souls you want to find out,
learn, understand, take in, foresee, anything concerning the public or
private utility, make haste to come before them and get their answer from
them, for the end and denouement of the comedy is at hand. Once this
is past, you will re et 'them in vain.'

"They do more. This, in order to declare that the earth and earthlings
are not worthy orthe presence, company, and enjoyment of such remarkable
souls, they stun and terrify it [the earth] by prodigies, portents,
monsters, and other premonitory signs formed against all order of nature,
we saw several days before the departure of that ever so illustrious,
high-minded, and heroic soul of the learned and valorous Lord of
Langey, of whom you have spoken."

"I remember it," said Epistemon, "and my heart still shivers at it and
trembles within its pericardium, when I 'Think of the extremely varied
and horrific prodigies that we clearly saw several days before his depar-
tur. So that the lords d'Assier,4 Chemant, Mailly le borgne, Saint-
Ayl, Villeneuve-la-Guyart, Master Gabriel, the doctor from Savigliano,
Rabelays,5 Cohuau, Massuau,6 Majorici, Bullou, Cercu, called the Burgo-
master, Francois Proust, Ferron, Charles Girard, Francois Bourre, and
many others, friends, domestics, and servants of the deceased, all fright-
ened, kept looking at one another in silence without speaking a word by
mouth, all certainly thinking and foreseeing in their understandings that
shortly France would be deprived of a knight so perfect and so necessary
for her glory and protection, and that the heavens were rehearsing it as
being their proper and natural due."

By the tip of my cowl [Huppe de froc]!" said Frere Jean, "I want to
turn scholar before I die! I have a pretty fair sort of mind, I find.

I ask you, and I ask of you,
As of his guard a king may do,
A queen may ask her infant too.

"Can death be the end of these heroes and demigods you've spoken of?
By 're Lady [Par Nettre Dene] I was thinking in my thinkeroo [je pensoys
en pensaroys] that they were immortal like fair angels, God forgive me.
But this venerable Macrobe says that they finally die."

"Not all of them," replied Pantagruel. "The Stoics used to say that they
were all mortal except One, Who is immortal, impassible, invisible.

"Pindar clearly says that to the Hamadryad goddesses [es deesses
Hamadryades] no more thread, that is to say no more life, is spun from
the distaff and flax of the wicked Destinies and Fates than for trees pre-
served by them.8 These are oaks, from which they were sprung, in the
opinion of Callimachus, and Pausanias, in Phoci,9 with whom Martianus
Capella concurs. As for the demigods, pans, satyrs, sylvans, will-o'-the
wisps, Aegipans, nymphs, heroes, and daemons, many people have, by
the sum total resulting from the diverse ages surmised by Hesiod, reck-
oned their lives to be of nine thousand seven hundred and twenty years,
a number composed of unity rising to quadrinity, and the entire
quadrinity doubled in itself four times, and then the whole thing multi-
plied five times by solid triangles. See Plutarch in his book On the
cessation of oracles" [chaps. 11 and 19].

"That," said Frere Jean, "is not breviary matter. I don't believe a word
of it except what you'd like me to."

"I believe," said Pantagruel, "that all intellective souls are exempt from
the scissors of Atropos. All are immortal: angels, daemons, and human
souls. However, in this connection, I'll tell you a very strange story,
but one wntten and attested by many scholarly learned historians."



CHAPTER 28


How Pantagruel relatesc piteous story
concerning the decease of heroes.


"As Epitherses; father of Aemilian the rhetorician, was sailing from
Greece to Italy on a ship laden with various goods and many passengers,
and the wind died down one evening near the Echinades, islands that lie
between the Morea [Peloponnesus] and Tunis, the ship was borne near
Paxos [south of Corfu]. When they drew near there, while some of the
passengers were asleep others awake, some eating supper and drinking,
there was heard from the island of Paxos a voice of someone loudly
calling out Thamoun.' At which cry they were all terrified. This Thamous
was their pilot, a native of Egypt, but not known by name except to a few
of the travelers: A second time the voice was heard, which called out
Thamoun in horrific cries. As no one answered, but all remained in silent
trepidation, for the third time this voice was heard, more terrible than
before. Wherefore it came about that Thamous replied: 'I am here, what
do you ask of me? What do you want me to do?' Then was heard this
voice still louder, telling and ordering him, when he was in Palodes,
to announce and say that the great God Pan was dead.

"When this word was heard, Epitherses said that all the sailors and tra-
velers were astonished and greatly terrified; and as they were deliberat-
ing among themselves which would be better, whether to be silent or to
announce what had been commanded, Thamous said his opinion was that in
case they had the wind astern, they should go on past without saying a
word; but if it happened that it was calm, they should report what he
had heard. So when they were near Palodes it came about that they had
neither wind nor current. So then Thamous, climbing onto the prow, and
casting his eyes to land, Jaid, as he had been ordered to, that Pan the
great was dead. He had not yet finished his final word when there were
heard great sighs, great lamentations and cries of fright on land not
from one person alone but from many together.(This news, since many
had been present, was soon divulged in Rome And Tiberius Caesar, then
emperor in Rome, sent for this Thamous. And having heard him, he put
faith in his words. And on inquiring of the learned men, who were at that
time at his court in great numbers, who this Pan was, he learned from
their report that he had been the son of Mercury and Penelope.

"So Herodotus had written earlier, and Cicero, in the third book of
De natura deorum [Of the nature of the gods 3.22]. Nevertheless, I would
interpret it to be about that great Savior of the faithful, Who was igno-
miniously slain in Judaea by the iniquity of the pontiffi;-aoctors, priests,
and monks of the Mosaic Law.2 And the interpretation does not seem
preposterous to me, for He may rightly in the Grecian tongue be called
Pan, seeing that He, is our All. All that we are, all that we live, all
that we have, all that we hope for is Him, in Him, from Him, by Him. He
is the good Pan, the great Pastor, Who, as the passionate shepherd Corydon3
attests, holds in His love and devotion not only his sheep but also his
shepherds. And at His death there were wails, sighs, cries of terror, and
lamentations in the entire machine of the universe, heavens, earth, sea,
hell. The time concurs with this interpretation of mine, for this most
good, most great Pan, our sole Savior, died outside Jerusalem in the reign
in Rome of Tiberius Caesar."

Pantagruel, on finishing this statement, remained in silence and pro-
found contemplation. Shortly after, we saw the tears flow down his
cheeks, big as ostrich eggs. God take me if by one single word I'm lying
about it.



CHAPTER 29


How Pantagruel passed the island of Coverup,'
which was ruled by Fastilent.2


WHEN the ships of the joyous convoy were renewed and repaired, the
victuals replenished, the Macraeons more than content and satisfied with
what Pantagruel had spent there, and our men even more joyous than
usual, on the following day we set sail in great cheer to the serene and
delightful Aguyon [north wind]. Well on in the day, from afar, was
pointed out by Xenomanes the island of Coverup, which was ruled by
Fastilent, whom Pantagruel had heard of in other days, and he would
have liked to see him in person, were it not that Xenomanes dissuaded
him, both because of the long detour out of the way and the meager fun
he said there was in the whole island and the Lord's court.

"When all's said and done," said he, "all you'll see there is a great
swallower of gray [dried] peas, a great man for shellfish [un grand
cacquerotier], a great mole-catcher, a grert hay-bundler, a demigiant with
a downy beard and double tonsure, sprung from Lanternland, a great
Lanterner, standard-bearer of the Ichthyophagi, dictator-of Mustardland,3
whipper of small boys, burner of ashes,4 father and nursling of the physi-
cians, abounding in pardons, indulgences, and solemn masses, a worthy
man, aood Catholic' and of great piety. He cries for three quarters of
the day. He is never to be found at weddings. True it is that he's the
busiest maker of larding sticks and spits there is in forty kingdoms. About
six years ago, passing by Coverup, I took away a big one and gave it to
the butcher of Candes. They thought highly of them, and not without
cause. I'll show you two of them when we get home, fastened over the
great portal. The victuals he feeds on are salt hauberks, salt caskets and
headpieces, and salt helmets.6 From which he sometimes suffers a bad
hotpiss. 23

"His garments are merry in both cut and color, for he wears gray and
cool, nothing in front and nothing behind, and sleeves to match."

"You'll give me pleasure," said Pantagruel, "if, even as you have de-
scribed to me his clothes, his food, the way he acts, and his pastimes, you
tell me also about his physique and bodily conditions in detail."

"Please do, old ballock," said Frere Jean, "for I've found him in my
breviary, and he runs out after the movable feasts."8

"I'll be glad to," replied Xenomanes. "We may peradventure hear
more about him when we pass the Wild Island, dominated by the stubby
Chitterlings, his deadly enemies, against whom he wages eternal war.
Were it not for the help of the noble Shrovetide [Mardigras], their pro-
tector and neighbor, that great Lanterner Fastilent would already have
driven them out of their dwelling-place."

"Are they," said Frere Jean, "male or female? Angels or mortals?
Women or maidens?"

"They are," replied Xenomanes, "female in sex, mortal in state, some
maidens, others not."

"Devil take me," said Frere Jean, "if I'm not for them! What kind of
a disorder in nature is that, to make war against women? Let's go back.
I'll cut that great villain to pieces [Sacmentons ce grand villain]." .

"Fight against Fastilent?" said Panurge. "In the name of all the devils,
is: I'm not that crazy and bold at the same time! Quid juris [what legal
decision] would there be if we found ourselves caught in a squeeze be-
tween Chitterlings and Fastilent, between the anvil and the hammer? A
pox on that! Get out of there! Let's sail on past! Farewell, I tell you,
Fastilent. I commend the Chitterlings to you, and don't forget the Black
Puddings." 9



CHAPTER 30


How Fastilent is anatomized
and described by Xenomanes.


FASTILENT has (or at least in my time had)," said Xenomanes, "as for
his inward parts, a brain comparable in size, color, substance, and vigor,
to the left ballock of a male hand-worm.

The lobes thereof, like an auger.
The vermiform excrescence [median lobe], like a croquet mallet.
The membranes, like a monk's cowl.
The optic nerves, like a mason's tray.
The vault [cerebral fornix], like a wimple.
The pineal gland, like a bagpipe.
The retz admirable [wondrous network], like a horse's frontstall.
The mamillary tubercles, like mended shoes.
The eardrums, like a whirligig.
The petrous bones [bones of the temple], like a plume.
The nape of the neck, like a cresset light [a kind of lantern].
The nerves, like a spigot.
The uvula, like a sackbut.
The palate, like a mitten.
The saliva, like a weaver's shuttle.
The tonsils, like a magnifying glass
The bridge of the nose, like a hamper.
The throat, like a vintager's jacket.
The stomach, like a baldrick.
The pylorus, like a pitchfork.
The windpipe, like an oyster knife.
The throat [le guaviet], like a ball of tow.
The lungs, like an amice.
The heart, like a chasuble.
The mediastinum, like an earthenware cup.
The pleura, like a crow's beak;
The arteries, like a watchman's cloak.
The diaphragm, like a cockaded cap.
The liver, like a twibill [two-bladed axe].
The veins, like a windowframe.
The spleen, like a quail call.
The bowels, like a partridge net.
The gall, like a carpenter's axe.
The entrails, like a gauntlet.
The mesentry, like an abbot's miter.
The hungry gut [intestin jeun] like a pincer.
The blind gut [intestin borgne], like a breastplate.
The colon, like a toasting glass.
The bum-gut, like a monk's carousing glass.
The kidneys, like a trowel.
The loins, like a padlock.
The ureters, like a pothook.
The emulgent veins, like two squirts.
The spermatic vessels, like a pastry puff.
The prostate gland, like a feather jar.
The bladder, like a stone bow [crossbow or catapult].
The neck thereof, like a bell clapper.
The abdomen [le mirach], like an Albanian hat.
The peritoneum [le siphach], like an archer‘s armlet.
The muscles, like a bellows.
The tendons, like a hawking glove.
The ligaments, like a wallet.
The bones, like three-cornered cheesecakes.
The marrow, like a pouch.
The cartilages, like a heath tortoise [mole].
The adenoids, like a pruning knife.
The animal spirits, like heavy punches.
The vital spirits, like long flicks on the nose.
The hot blood, like a flurry of raps on the nose.
The urine, like a popefig.
The sperm, like a hundred lath nails. And his wet nurse was telling us
that he, when married to Midlent, begat only a number of locative
adverbs and certain double fasts.
He had a memory like a scarf.
Common sense, like a drone.
His imagination, like a carillon of bells.
His thoughts, like a flight of starlings.
His consciousness [or conscience], like an unnesting of young herons.
His deliberations, like a pouchful of barley.
His repentance, like the carriage of a double cannon.
His enterprises, like the ballast of a galleon.
His understanding, like a torn breviary.
His notions, like snails crawling out of strawberries.
His will, like three walnuts in a dish.
His desire, like six trusses of sainfoin.
His judgment, like a shoehorn.
His discretion, like a mitten.
His reason, like a footstool.



CHAPTER 31


Anatomy of Fastilent
as regards the outward parts.


FASTILENT," said Xenomanes as he continued, "as regards his outward
parts, was a little better proportioned except for the seven ribs he had
over and above the common form of humans.

Toes he had like a virginal on an organ.
Nails, like a gimlet.
Feet, like a guitar.
Heels, like a mace.
Soles of the feet, like a crucible.
Legs, like a lure:.
Knees, like a stool.
Thighs, like a crossbow's gaffle.
Haunches, like a wimble.
Belly big as a tun, buttoned up in the old style and loosely girt.3,
Navel, like a fiddle [une vielle].
Groin, like a mincemeat pasty.
Member, like a slipper.
Balls, like a little leather vial.
Genitals, like a carpenter's plane.
Cremasters, like a racket.
Perineum, like a flageolet.
Asshole, like a crystal mirror.
Buttocks, like a harrow.
Loins, like a butterpot.
Alkatin [Arabic for sacrum], like a billiard table.
Back, like a large-sized crowbow.
Vertebrae, like a bagpipe.
Ribs, like a spinningwheel.
Brisket, like a canopy.
Shoulder blades, like a mortar.
Chest, like a hand-organ.
Nipples, like the mouth of a hunting horn.
Armpits, like a checkerboard.
Shoulders, like a stretcher.
Arms, like a riding hood.
Fingers, like friary andirons.
Wrist bones, like a pair of stilts.
Forearms [fauciles], like sickles [faucilles].
Elbows, like rat traps
Hands, like a currycomb.
Neck, like a great drinking cup.
Throat, like a hippocras filter.
Adam's apple, like a barrel from which hung two very fair and harmo-
nious bronze wattles in the shape of a sand hourglass.
Beard, like a lantern.
Chin, like a mushroom.
Ears, like two mittens.
Nose, like a buskin grafted on him like a shield bud.'
Nostrils, like a baby's bonnet.
Eyebrows, like a dripping-pan.
Over his left eyebrow he had a mark of the size and shape of a urinal.
Eyelids, like a rebec,-
Eyes, like a comb case.
Optic nerves, like a fire-steel.,5
Forehead, like a false cup.°
Temples, like a watering pot.
Cheeks, like two wooden clogs.
Jaws, like a goblet.
Teeth, like a boar-spear. Of his milk teeth such as this you will find one
at Colonges-les-Royaux in Poitou, and two at la Brosse [Charente-
Maritime] in Saintonge, over the cellar door.
Tongue, like a harp.
Mouth, like a horse blanket.
Face, as misshapen as a mule's packsaddle.
Head, twisted around like an alembic.
Skull, like a game-pouch.
Cranial sutures, like the seal ring of a papal fisherman.
Skin, like a gabardine
Epidermis, like a bolting cloth.
Hair, like a scrub brush.
Body hair, as has been said."



CHAPTER 32


Continuation of Fastilent's physical features.


It's a natural wonder," said Xenomanes as he went on, "to see and hear
of the state of Fastilent.

If he spat, it was basketfuls of wild artichoke.
If he blew his nose, it was little salt eels.
If he cried, it was ducks with onion sauce.
If he trembled, it was big hare pasties.
If he sweated, it was codfish in fresh butter.
If he belched, it was oysters in the shell.
If he sneezed, it was barrels full of mustard.
If he coughed, it was jars of quince marmelade.
If he sobbed, it was pennyworths of watercress.
If he yawned, it was potfuls of split pea soup.
[If he sighed, it was smoked ox tongues.
If he whistled, it was scuttlefuls of green monkeys.'
If he snored, it was bowls of shelled beans.
If he frowned, it was pigs' feet smoked in lard.
If he spoke, it was coarse Auvergne frieze, a far cry from being crimson
silk, of which Parisatis wanted spun the words of those who spoke to
her son Cyrus, king of the Persians.
If he blew, it was poor boxes for indulgences.
If he blinked his eyes, it was waffles and wafers.
If he grumbled, it was March-born cats.
If he nodded his head, it was iron-shod wagons.
If he made a face, it was a manual drumbeat.;
If he muttered, it was law clerks' revels.
If he hopped up and down, it was delays and five-year respites.
If he drew back, it was sea cockleshells.
If he driveled, it was communal ovens.
If he was hoarse, it was morris dance entrances.
If he farted, it was brown cowhide leggings.
If he fizzled, it was cordovan summer boots.
If he scratched himself, it was new ordinances.
If he sang, it was peas in the pod.
If he crapped, it was toadstools and mushrooms.
If he gorged, it was cabbages cooked in oil, alias caules amb'olif.
If he discoursed, it was snows of yesteryear.
If he was concerned, it was about shaven and shorn alike.'
If he gave anything, it was at so much for the bearer!'
If he daydreamed, it was of pricks flying and rampant against a wall.'
If he dreamed, it was of rent rolls.


"A strange case: he worked doing nothing, he did nothing working.
He had eyes open sleeping, slept having his eyes open, open like those of
hares in Champagne, fearing some sudden raid by the Chitterlings, his
ancient enemies. He laughed as he bit, bit as he laughed. He ate nothing
fasting, fasted eating nothing. He nibbled out of suspicion, drank in
imagination. He bathed on top of high steeples, dried himself in ponds
and streams. He fished in the air and there caught decuman crayfish. He
went hunting in the depths of the sea and there found ibexes, wild goats,
and chamois. He ordinarily poked out the eyes of every crow caught by
surprise' He was afraid of nothing but his shadow and the bleating of
plump kids. On certain days he pounded the pavements. He played with
the ropes of girded friars.`' Of his fist he made a mallet.'" On shaggy
parchment, with his stout pen-case, he wrote prognostics and almanacs."

"That's the dandy," said Frere Jean, "that's my man. That's the one I'm
looking for. I'm going to send him a challenge."

"That," said Pantagruel, "is a strange and monstrous figure of a man, if
man I am to call him. You put me in mind of the shape and features of
Amodunt and Discord."

"What sort of shape did they have?" asked Frere Jean, "I never heard of
them, God forgive me."

"I'll tell you," replied Pantagruel, '"what I've read about them in old
stories. Physis (that's Nature) in her first brood bore Beauty and Harmony
without carnal copulation, since of herself she is richly fecund and fertile.
Antiphysis, who from all time has been the party adverse to Nature, was
immediately envious over so fair and honorable a delivery, and, contrari-
wise, gave birth to Amodunt and Discord by copulation with Tellumon.

"They had heids spherical and completely round, like a balloon, not
gently compressed on each side, as the human shape is. Their ears were
raised up high, big as donkeys' ears; their eyes, sticking out of their heads,
on bones like heel bones, without eyebrows, hard, as are crabs' eyes; their
feet round as balls; arms and hands turned around backward toward the
shoulders; and they traveled on their heads, doing continuous cartwheels,
head over heels,'2 with their legs in the air. And (as you know that to
female monkeys their little monkeys seem handsomer than anything in
the world) Antiphysis praised her children's shape and tried to prove that
it was more beautiful and attractive than that of the children of Physis,
saying that thus to have your feet in the air, your head down below, was
an imitation of the Creator of the Universe, seeing that hair in man is like
roots, legs like branches, for trees are more conveniently fixed in the
ground on their roots than they would be on their branches; by this
demonstration arguing that her children were much better and aptly like
an upright tree than those of Physis, which were like a tree upside down.
As regards the arms and legs, she proved that they were more reasonably
turned toward the shoulders, because that part of the body should not be
without defense, considering that the front was adequately protected by
the teeth, which a person can use not only in chewing without the help
of his hands, but to defend himself against harmful things.

"Thus by the testimony and witness of the brute beasts, she drew all
the fools and madmen to her view and was held in admiration by all
brainless people unequipped with good judgrrient and common sense.'3
Since then she engendered the Matagotz,14 Cagotz, and Papelars, the
maniacal Pistols,' the demoniacal Calvins," impostors of Geneva, the
rabid Putherbeuses," the Gut-guzzlers, Hypocrites, Toadies,' Cannibals,
and other monsters deformed and misshapen in despite of Nature." 19



CHAPTER 33


How Pantagruel sighted a monstrous physeter
near the Wild Island.


As we neared the Wild Island [l'isle Farouche], well on in the day,
Pantagruel sighted from afar a great monstrous cachalot coming toward
us, puffing, puffed up, rising higher than the main tops of our ships,
spouting water from its throat into the air ahead of it, as if it were a
great stream tumbling from some mountain. Pantagruel pointed it out to
the captain and to Xenomanes. On the a)tain's advice the trumpets of the
Thalamege rang out with the message: Watch out! Close up [Guare! Serre]!
At this sound, all the ships, galleons, and brigantines, according to
their orders and to naval practice, drew up in a Y-shaped formation,
Pythagoras's letter,' such as you see cranes use in their flight, such
as you find in an acute angle, at the cone and base of which was the said
Thalamege, ready and in position to give valorous combat. Frere Jean,
valiant and ready for action, climbed up on the forecastle with the can-
noneers. Panurge began to howl and wail worse than ever.

"Bub-bub-babble-blubblub," he wailed, "this is worse than ever. Let's.
run away! This, by gorry [c'est, par la mort boeuf], is Leviathan as de-
scribed by the noble prophet Moses in the life of that holy man Job [Job
40-41]. He'll swallow us all, men and ships, like so many pills. In his great
infernal gullet we'll take up no more room than would a tidbit of spiced
oats in an ass's throat. Look, here he is! Let's flee, let's go to land! I
believe he's the very sea monster that was destined long ago to devour
Andromeda. We're all done for! O if only there were here now to slay him
some valiant Perseus [Per-se-us]!"

"Perse jus [pierced and on his back] by me he shall be!" replied
Pantagruel. "Have no fear."

"Power of God!" said Panurge, "take us out of the causes of fear. When
do you expect me to be afraid, if not when the danger is evident?"

"If such," said Pantgruel, "is your ill-fated destiny, as Frere Jean was
stating a while ago, you should be afraid of Pyroeis, Eous, Aethon, and
Phlegon, the famous flammivomous [flame-vomiting] horses of the Sun,
who breathe out fire through their nostrils; of physeters, which spout
nothing but water from their blowholes and from their throats, you
should have no fear at all. Never from their water will you be in danger
of death. By that element you will rather be made safe and preserved than
troubled and harmed.'

"Next!" said Panurge ["A l'aultre!" dist Panurge]. "That's hitting the
nail right on the thumb! Powers of a little fish [Vertus d'un petit poisson]!
Haven't I explained to you enough about the transmutation of the ele-
ments and the easy correspondence there is between roast and boiled
meat, between boiled and roasted? Alas! Here he is! I'm going and hide
below yonder! We're all dead this time! Above the topmast I see cruel
Atropos with her scissors newly ground, ready to cut the thread of our
lives. Look out! Here he is! O how horrible and abominable you are!
You've drowned plenty of others who didn't come back to boast about it.
Good Lord! If he spouted good wine, white or red, tasty, delicious,
instead of this bitter water, stinking and salty, it would to some extent
have been tolerable, and would give us some occasion for patience, after
the example of that English milord who, when ordered to take his choice
of deaths for the crimes he was convicted of, chose to be drowned in a
tun of Malmsdy!"

"Here he is! Oh, oh! You Devil, Satan, Leviathan! I can't look at you,
you're so hideous and detestable! Go off to the hearing, go off to the
Shysteroos!" 4



CHAPTER 34


How Pantagruel slew the monstrous physeter.


THE physeter, coming inside the wedge and angles of the ships and gall-
eons, was spouting water on the former by the barrelfuls, as if it were
the cataracts of the Nile in Ethiopia. Darts, arrows, javelins, pikes, spears,
halberds flew upon it from all sides. Frere Jean did not spare himself in
this. Panurge kept dying of fear. The artillery hurled thunder and light-
ning like the Devil, and tried its best to prick it and not in jest.' But this
was doing little good; for the iron and bronze cannonballs, as they sank
into its skin, seemed to melt, to see them from a distance, as tiles do in
the sun. Then Pantagruel, considering the occasion and the need, unfolds his
arms and shows what he could do.

You say, and it is written, that that wretch Commodus, emperor of
Rome, could shoot a bow so adroitly that from quite a distance he could
send his arrows between the fingers of young children as they held their
hand in the air, without touching them at all.

You also tell us about an Indian archer, at the time when Alexander the
Great conquered India, who was such an expert shot that from a distance
he could send his arrows through a ring, though they were three cubits
long and the iron point thereof was so big and heavy that with it he could
pierce steel cutlasses, thick bucklers, steel breastplates, generally whatever
he could hit, even though it were as firm, resistant, hard, and sturdy, as
you could say.2

You also tell us wonders about the deftness of the ancient Franks, who
were rated above all others in the sagittary art and who, when hunting
black or russet animals,' rubbed the point of their arrows with hellebore,4
because the flesh of venison struck with this was more tasty, tender, and
delicious, marking off and removing, however, the part all around the
spot thus hit.

You also give an account of the Parthians, who fired more cleverly
backward than other nations did forward. You also celebrate the Scythians
in this dexterity, on whose behalf long ago an envoy sent to Darius, king
of the Persians, offered him, without a word, a bird, a frog, a mouse, and
five arrows. When asked what such presents meant, and if he had orders
to say anything, he answered no. At which Darius was left utterly aston-
ished and dumbfounded, but that Gobryas, one of the seven captains who
had killed the Magi, expounded and interpreted it to him, saying: "By
these gifts and offerings the Scythians are tacitly saying to you: 'If the
Persians do not fly up to the sky like birds, or hide toward the center of
the earth like mice, or plunge like frogs to the bottom of the ponds and
swamps, they shall be sent to their doom by the power and the arrows of
the Scythians.'"

The noble Pantagruel, in the art of shooting and throwing darts, was
incomparably more admirable. For with his horrible javelins and darts
(which actually looked like the great beams on which rest the bridges of
Nantes, Saumur, and Bergerac,' and in Paris the pont-au-Change and the
Pont-aux-Meusnier, in length, stoutness, weight, and ironwork), from a
thousand paces away he would open oysters in the shell without touching
the edges; would snuff a candle without putting it out; would hit magpies
in the eye; would unsole boots without damaging them; would strip the
fur from hoods without harming them; would turn the pages of Frere
Jean's breviary, one after the other, without tearing a thing.

With such darts, of which there was a large supply in his ship, on his
first shot he pierced the physeter in the forehead so that it went through
both jaws and tongue, so that it could no longer open its mouth, or take
in or spout water. With the second shot he put out its right eye; with the
third, its left eye, and the physeter was seen, to the great jubilation of all,
to wear these three horns on its forehead, leaning a bit forward, in the
form of an equilateral triangle [en figure triangulaire aequilaterale], turn-
ing from one side to the other, wavering and swerving as if stubbed,
blind, and near death.

Not content with this, Pantagruel darted him another on the tail like-
wise leaning a little to the rear; then three others on the spine in a
perpendicular line, in equal spaces from tail to prow [head] divided three
times precisely.

Finally he shot onto his flanks fifty on one side and fifty on the other.
In such a way that the physeter's body looked like the keel of a three-
masted galleon mortised by an adequate adjustment of its beams, as if they
were the ribs 'and cablerings of the keel. And it was a very entertaining
sight to see.

Thereupon the physeter, dying, rolled over on its back, belly up, as do
all dead fish; and overturned thus, with the beams underneath it in the
water, it looked like the scolopendria, a serpent with a hundred feet, as
described by the ancient sage Nicander [Theriaca, note i2].



CHAPTER 35


How Pantagruel goes ashore on the Wild Island,
ancient abode of the Chitterlings.'


THE lead oarsmen of the ship with the lantern brought the physeter, tied
up, ashore on the next island, called the WildtIsland, in order to dissect
it and collect the fat of the kidneys, which they said was very useful,
and necessary for the cure of a certain malady they called Lack of Money.?

Pantagruel took no account of it, for he had seen enough others like it,
indeed even more enormous, in the Gallic Ocean.2 He consented, how-
ever, to go ashore on the Wild Island to allow some of his men to dry and
"refresh themselves, who had been drenched and befouled by the nasty
physeter, at a little deserted seaport to the south, located next to a tall,
fair, and pleasant wooded grove, out of which flowed a delightful stream
of fresh water, clear and silvery. There, under lovely tents, the kitchens
were set up without sparing the firewood. When each man had changed
his clothes as he saw fit, Frere Jean rang the bell. At the sound of it the
tables were set up and the food promptly served. Pantagruel, joyfully
dining with his men, noticed certain little tame Chitterlings climbing
without a word up a tall tree near the improvised pantry. So he asked
Xenomanes: "What kind of animals are those?" thinking they were squir-
rels, weasels, martens, or ermines.

"They're Chitterlings," replied Xenomanes. "This is the Wild Island,
which I was telling you about this morning; between these and Fastilent,
their mortal enemy, it has long been war to the death. And I think that
from the cannonades fired against the physeter they got some fright and
suspicion that their said enemy was there with his forces to take them by
surprise or lay waste their island, as he has already tried to do several
times in vain and to little advantage, foiled by the care and vigilance
of the Chitterlings, whom (as Dido said to the companion of Aeneas, who
wanted to make port in Carthage without her knowledge and permission
['sans son sceu et licence': Aeneid 1.561-578]) the malignity of their en-
emy and the nearness of his lands constrained to be on their guard and
keep watch continually against him."

"My goodness, dear friend," said Pantagruel, "if you see that by some
honorable means we might put an end to this war and reconcile them
together, tell me what you think. I'll work on it with all my heart and
not spare my pains to moderate and settle the matters in dispute between
the two parties."

"That is not possible for the present," replied Xenomanes. "It was
about four years ago that, stopping off here and in Coverup Island, I
made it my business to discuss peace between them, or at least long
truces; and now they would be good friends and neighbors, if either one
of the two parties had been willing to put aside their passions about one
single matterttastilent would not include in a peace treaty the wild Blood
Puddings, or the Mountaineer Sausages [les Saulcissons montigenes], their
former good friends and allies. The Chitterlings demanded that the for-
tress of Herringkegs [la forteresse de Cacques] should be ruled and gov-
erned at their discretion, as is the castle of Saltingtub [le chasteau de
Sallouoir], and that there should be driven out of it I know not what
stinking, villainous assassins and brigands who were holding it, which
could not be agreed on, and the conditions seemed unfair to both parties.

"So no reconciliation was concluded Iitween them. Nonetheless they
remained less harsh and, milder enemies than they were in the past. But
since then, by the ublication of the decisions of the national council of
Chesil,3 by which they [the Chitterlings] were cited, bullied, and de-
nounced, by whic also Fastilent was declared to be full of shit, messed
up, and dned out as a stockfish [breneux, hallebrene et stocfise], in case
he made any agreement whatever with them, they have become horrifically
embittered, envenomed, indignant, and obstinate in their hearti, and it is
impossible to remedy this. You'd sooner get the cats and rats, the dogs
and hares, reconciled with one another."



CHAPTER 36


How an ambush is laid against Pantagruel
by the wild Chitterlings.


As Xenomanes said this, Frere Jean espied twenty-five or thirty young
Chitterlings of slender build at the harbor hurrying at top speed back
toward their city, citadel, castle, and fortress of Chimneys,' and said to
Pantagruel:

"There's going to be some monkey business [Il y aura icy de l'asne]
going on here, I predict. These venerable Chitterlings might peradven-
ture mistake you for Fastilent, although you don't look a bit like him.
Let's leave off our feasting and get ourselves ready to resist them."
"That," said Xenomanes, "would not be too bad a thing to do. Chit-
terlings are Chitterlings, always duplicitous and treacherous."

Thereupon Pantagruel rises from table to reconnoiter outside the
grove; then promptly comes back and assures 'us that on the left he has
:discovered an ambush of the stubby Chitterlings, and on the right, half a
league away, a great battalion of powerful gigantic Chitterlings in battle
array marching furiously toward us along a little hill, to the sound of
bagpipes and flageolets, sheeps' paunches and bladders,rmerry fifes and
drums, trumpets and clarione.

By conjecture from seventy-eight ensigns that he counted there, we
estimated that their number was no less than forty-two thousand. The
order they kept, their proud march and confident faces, led us to believe
that these were no Meatballs [ce n'estoient Friquenelles], but veteran
warrior Chitterlings. From the front ranks all the way back to the stan-
dards, they were all armed cap-a-pie, with pikes that looked small from a
distance, but were steel tipped and with very sharp points. On the wings
they were flanked by a large number of game Blood Puddings [de
Boudins sylvaticques], massive Meat Pasties [de Guodiveaux massifz], and
Sausages on horseback, all well set up, wild, insular brigand types.
Pantagruel was quite perturbed and not without reason, although
Epistemon pointed out to him that the practice and custom of the Chit-
terlings might be thus to welcome and receive in arms their friends from
abroad, as the noble kings of France are received and saluted in the good
cities of their kingdom at their first entries after their coronation [leur
sacre] and recent accession to the throne.

"Peradventure," said he, "this is the ordinary guard of the queen of the
place, who, notified by the young Chitterlings of the ambush you saw on
the tree, and how at this port was appearing the fine pompous fleet of
your ships, thought that there must be some rich and powerful prince,
and is coming to visit you in person."

Not satisfied with this, Pantagruel called in his council to hear their
opinions summarily on what they should do in this doubtful situation
where hope was uncertain and danger evident.

So he pointed out to them how such forms of welcome under arms had
often, under color of kind usage and friendship, led to deadly harm.
"Thus," said he, "on one occasion the Emperor Antoninus Caracalla
slew the people of Alexandria; on another he defeated the bodyguards
of Artabanus, king of the Persians, under color and pretext of wanting
to marry his daughter, which did not go unpunished, for shortly after-
ward he lost his life. Thus the sons of Jacob, to avenge the rape of their
sister Dinah, destroyed the Shechemites [Genesis 34]. In this deceitful
way the Roman Emperor Gallienus slaughtered the warriors inside
Constantinople.' Thus, under color of friendship, Antonius lured
Artavasdes, king of Armenia, then had him bound and fettered with
chains; finally he had him slain.' We find a thousand other such stories
amid the ancient record. And rightly, down to the present, is praised
for prudence Charles, king of France, sixth of that name, who, when
returning victorious over the Flemings and inhabitants of Ghent, to his
good city of Paris and to Le Bourget in France, heard that the Parisians
with their mallets' (which had won them the surname of Maillotins
[Malleteers]), had come out of the city in battle formation to the number
of twenty thousand combatants, would not enter (although they remon-
strated that they had armed themselves thus to welcome him more honor-
ably, with no ulterior motive or hostility), until they had first dis-
armed and gone home to their houses."



CHAPTER 37


How Pantagruel sent for
Captains Gobblechitterling and Chopsausage:
with a noteworthy discourse
on the proper names of places and persons.


THE council's resolve was that at all events they should stand on their
guard. Then on Pantagruel's command Carpalim and Gymnaste sum-
moned the soldiers who were in the ship Cheers [Brindiere], whose
colonel was Gobblechitterling, and Vinetub [Portoueriere], whose colo-
nel was Chopsausage the Younger.

"I'll relieve Gymnaste of that trouble," said Panurge. "Besides, his pre-
sence here is necessary to you."

"By the frock I wear," said Frere Jean, "you want to keep away from
the combat, old ballock, and you won't ever go back to it, upon my
honor! That's hardly a great loss. Anyway, he wouldn't do anything but
weep, moan, wail, and dishearten the good soldiers."

"I certainly will go back to it," said Panurge, "Frere Jean, my spiritual
father, soon. Only see that those pesky Chitterlings don't climb up on our
ships. While you're fighting, I'll pray to God for your victory, after the
example of the valiant captain Moses, leader of the Israelite people."2

"The names," said Epistemon to Pantagruel; "of these two colonels of
yours, Gobblechitterling and Chopsausage, promise us in this conflict
assurance, good luck, and victory, if by chance these Chitterlings were to
try to attack us."

"You take it rightly," said Pantagruel, "and I'm pleased that from the
names of our colonels you foresee and predict our victory. Such a manner
of prognosis is not modern. It was celebrated and religiously used, long
ago, by the Pythagoreans.3 Many great lords and emperors of old used
it to their good advantage. Octavian Augustus, the second emperor of
Rome, on meeting one day a peasant named Eutyche, that is to say
Fortunate, leading a donkey named Nicon, that is to say in Greek Victo-
rian [conqueror], stirred up by the meaning of the names of both the
driver and the donkey, felt assured of every prosperity, felicity, and vic-
tory.4 When Vespasian, likewise emperor of Rome, was all alone one day
at prayer in the temple of Serapis, at the unexpected sight and coming of
a servant of his named Basilides,5 that is to say Royal, whom he had left
sick far behind him, he took hope and assurance of getting the imperium
of Rome. Regilian6 was chosen emperor by the soldiers for no other
cause and occasion than the meaning of his own name! See the Cratylus
of the divine Plato..."

"By my thirst!" said Rhizotome, "I want to read it: I often hear you
citing it."

"...See how the Pythagoreans, by reason of the names and numbers,
conclude that Patroclus was bound to be slain by Hector, Hector by
Achilles, Achilles by Paris, Parish Philoctetes.9 I'm quite confounded
in my mind when I think about the wonderful discovery of Pythagoras,
who, by the even or odd number of the syllables of each and every proper
name, expounded on which side humans were lame, humpbacked, one-eyed,
gouty, paralytic, pleuritic, and other such afflictions of nature: to wit,
assigning the even number to the left side of the body, the odd to the
right."

"That's true," said Epistemon, "I saw that tried out at Saintes, during
a general procession, in the presence of that most excellent, learned,
and equitable President Briand Vallee, Seigneur du Douhet. When a lame
man or woman passed, a one-eyed or humpbacked man or woman, they
reported to him his proper name. If the syllables of the name were of an
odd number, promptly, without looking at the persons, he immediately
said they were afflicted, one-eyed, lame, or humpbacked on the right
side. If they were of an even number, on the left side. And so it was
in truth; never did we find an exception."

"By this discovery," said Pantagruel, "the scholars have affirmed that
Achilles, while on his knees, was wounded by Paris's arrow in the right
heel; for his name is of uneven syllables (here it is to be noted that the
ancients knelt on their right foot); Venus by Diomedes before Troy
wounded in the left hand, for her name in Greek was four syllables
[A-phro-di-te]; Vulcan lame in his left foot, for the same reason; Philip,
king of Macedon, and Hannibal, blind in the right eye. We could also
be specific about sciatica, herpias, migraines, by this same Pythagorean
reason.

"But to return to names, consider how Alexander the Great, son of
King Philip, of whom we have spoken, by the interpretation of one single
name. succeeded in an undertaking" of his.

"He was besieging the strong city of Tyre and had been fighting there
with all his might for several weeks; but it was in vain; his machines
and endeavors were to no avail; everything was promptly undone and re-
paired by the Tyrians. So in great melancholy he took a notion to raise
the siege, seeing in this breaking off a notable loss to his reputation.
In such a plight and 'vexation he fell asleep. In his sleep he dreamed that
a satyr was in his tent, capering and skipping on his goatish legs. Alexand
-er tried to catch him; the satyr kept escaping him. Finally the king, pur-
suing him into a corner, nabbed him. At that point he woke up, and, on tell-
ing his dream to the philosophers and learned men of his court, he came
to understand that` the gods were promising him victory and that Tyre
would soon, be taken for his word Satyros [Greek for 'satyr], divided in
two, is Sa Tyros, meaning 'Tyre is yours.' Indeed, at the first assault he
made, he won the city by force, and in a great victory subjugated this
rebellious people."

"On the other hand, consider how from the meaning of a name Pompey fell
into despair. Being conquered by Caesar in the battle of Pharsalia, he
had no other way of escape than by flight. Fleeing by sea, he came to
the island of Cyprus. Near the town of Paphos he espied on the shore a
beautiful sumptuous palace. On asking the pilot the name of this palace,
he learned that it was called Kaxo8cto-iXea, that is to say "Bad King."
He took such fright and abomination at this name that he fell into
despair, as being sure not to escape but to lose his life. So that those
present heard his sighs and moans. And indeed, a short time later, a man
named Achillas, an unknown peasant, cut off his head.

"We could cite further in this connection what happened to Lucius Ae-
milius Paulus, when he was elected emperor by the Roman senate, that is
to say leader of the army they were sending against Perses, king of
Macedonia. That same day, toward evening, on 'his way back to his house
to get ready to move out, on kissing a little daughter of his named Tratia,
he noticed that she was a little sad. 'What is it, my Tratia?' he said. 'Why
are you so sad and forlorn?' Father,' she replied, Persa is dead.' That is
what she called a little puppy bitch she was very fond of. At that state-
ment Paulus gained confidence in his victory over Perses.12

"If time allowed us to scrutinize the Holy Bible of the Hebrews, we
would find a hundred notable passages showing us clearly in what con-
sideration and reverence they held proper names and their meanings."

At the end of these remarks the two colonels arrived, accompanied by
their soldiers, all well armed and determined. Pantagruel made them a
short speech exhorting them to show themselves valiant in combat if by
chance they were forced to (for he still couldn't believe the Chitterlings
were so treacherous), and forbade them to begin the hostilities; and he
gave them Shrovetide [Mardigras] as the watchword.



CHAPTER 38


How Chitterlings are not to be despised
among humans.'


Now you're laughing at me, topers, and not believing that this is all
truly so just as I'm telling it to you. I don't know what I can do for you
about that. Believe it if you want; if ypu don't want to, go there and see.
But I know very well what I saw. This was on the Wild Island. I'm giving
you its name. And call back to mind the giants of old, who undertook to
pile lofty Mount Pelion upon Ossa, and envelop shady Olympus with
Ossa, to combat the gods and dislodge them from their nest. That was no
commonplace or moderate might. Those, however, were Chitterlings for
only half their body, or serpents, lest I tell a lie.

The serpent who tempted Eve was Chitterline; this notwithstanding, it
is written of him that he was subtle and wily beyond all other beasts of
the field.' So are Chitterlings.

They still maintain in certain academies that this tempter was the Chit-
terling named Ithyphallus, into whom was transformed long ago good
old Messer Priapus, the great tempter of women among the paradises in
Greek, which are gardens in French. The Swiss [Souisses], peoples now
bold and warlike, how do we know but that they were once sausages
[saulcisses]? I wouldn't put my finger in the fire to contest it. The
Himantopodes, a very noteworthy people in Ethiopia, are Chittdlings,
according to Pliny's description,3 and nothing else.

If these arguments do not satisfy the incredulity of your lordships,4
shortly (I mean after drinking) go and visit Lusignan, Parthenay, Vouvant,
Mervent, and Pouzanges, in Poitou. There you will find witnesses of long
renown and honest repute who will swear to you on the arm of Saint
Rigomer that Melusine, their first founder, had a female. body down to
the prick-purse,' and the rest of it below was a serpentine Chitterling or
else a Chitterling serpent.

She, however, had fair and lively ways, which are still represented
today by Bretons doing their lusty song-and-dances.'

What was the reason why Erichthonius was the first to invent coaches,
litters, and chariots? It was because Vulcan had begotten him with
Chitterling's feet, to hide which he chose to travel by litter rather than on
horseback. For in his time Chitterlings were not yet renowned.

The Scythian nymph Ora likewise had a body divided in half between
woman and Chitterling. However, she seemed so beautiful to Jupiter that
he lay with her and by her had a fine son named Colaxes.'

So now stop laughing any more, and believe there is nothing so true as
the Gospel.



CHAPTER 39


How Frere Jean joins forces with the cooks
to combat the Chitterlings.


WHEN Frere Jean saw those frenzied Chitterlings thus marching joy-
ously, he said to Pantagruel:

"This here is going to be a fine straw battle, from what I see. Oh! what
great honor and magnificent praises there will be for our victory! I'd like
you to be just a spectator of this conflict in your ship, and for the rest
let me handle it with my men."

"What men?" asked Pantagruel.

"That's breviary matter," replied Frere Jean. "Why was Potophar, mas-
ter chef of Pharaoh's kitchens--the one who brought Joseph and whom
Joseph could have made a cuckold if he had wanted--master of all the
cavalry of the whole kingdom of Egypt? Why was Nebuzaradan, master
chef of King Nebuchadnezzar, chosen among all other captains to besiege
and destroy Jerusalem?" 2

"I'm listening," replied Pantagruel.

"By the Trou Madame!" 3 said Frere Jean, "I'd dare swear that in other
days they had fought Chitterlings, or people as little esteemed as Chitter-
lings, for whom cooks are incomparably more suitable and adequate to
beat them down, combat them, conquer them, and chop them to bits,
than all the men-at-arms, Albanian horsemen, soldiers, and infantrymen
in the world."

"You bring back to my mind," said Pantagruel, "what is written among
Cicero's facetious and joyous responses.4 At the time of the civil
wars in Rome between Caesar and Pompey, he naturally leaned more to
Pompey's side, although he was solicited and greatly favored by Caesar.
Hearing one day that the Pompeians in a certain encounter had suffered
a considerable loss of their men, he succeeded in visiting their camp. In
their camp he observed little strength, little courage, great disorder.
Then, foreseeing that all would go to ruin and perdition, he began to
ridicule now some of them, now others, with bitter stinging jibes, as he
knew very well how to do. Some of the captains, playing at being the good
fellows like very confident and determined men, said to him: 'Do you see
how many eagels [ensigns] we still have?' These were then the ensigns of
the Romans in time of war. That' said Cicero, 'would be fine and to the
point if you were at war against magpies.'

"So, seeing that we must fight Chitterlings, you are inferring that it's a
culinary battle and you want to join forces with the cooks. Do as you
intend. I'll stay here and await the outcome of these fanfares."

Frere Jean then goes straight to the kitchen tents and in all gayety and
courtesy says to the cooks:

"Lads, I mean to see you all today in honor and triumph. By you shall
be performed exploits in arms not yet seen in our memory. Belly to belly!
Don't they take any other account of these valiant cooks? Let's go fight
these whoremonger Chitterlings. I'll be your captain. Let's drink, friends.
Come on now, courage!"

"Captain," replied the cooks, "that's well said. We're at your merry
command. Under your leadership we mean to live and die!"

"To live," said Frere IcAn, "fine! To die, not Nbit of it. That's some-
thing for the Chitterlings now let's set ourselves in order for battle.
Nebuzaradan shall be the watchword for you."



CHAPTER 40


How Here Jean is set are in the sow,
and the valiant cooks are enclosed in it.'


THEN on Frere Jean's command was set up by the master engineers the
great .sow, which was in the ship Drinkingmug.2 It was a marvelous
machine, made in such wise that from the big cannon that ringed it round
in rows it fired great stones and steel-feathered bolts, and in its hold two
hundred men could easily fight and stay under cover; and it was made
on the model of the Sow of La Reole,3 by means of which, under the
reign of the young King Charles the Sixth, Bergerac was taken from
the English.

Here follow the number and names of the stalwart valiant cooks who,
as into the Trojan Horse, entered into the sow:4

Tartsauce [Saulpicquet],
Slickster [Ambrelin] '
Panicky [Guavache],
Weak-knees [Lascheron],
Porkfry [Porcausou],
Dirtyrat [Salezart],
Mandragora [Maindeguourre],
Breadpudding [Paimperdu]
Trudgealong [Lasdaller],
Shoveler [Pochecuilliere]
Moldymust [Moustamoulue],
Frizzlecrisp [Crespelet],
Master Slipslop [Maistre Hordoux],5
Greasygut [Grasboyau],
Poundpestle [Pillemortier],
Sheriff or Lickwine ["L'eschevin" or "LeschevinT
Pea-and-bean stew [Saulgrenee]
Goat stew [Cabirotade],
Carbonado [Carbonnade],
Mixed-grill [Fressurade],
Hodgepodge [Hoschepot],
Pig's liver [Hasteret],
Snoutslash [Balafre]
Gallimaufry [Gualimafre],

All these noble Cooks bore on their coats of arms, on a field gules, a
larding-pin vert, scutched with; a chevron argent, inclined to the left.'

Baconrasher [Lardonnet],
Baconstrip [Lardon],
Roundbacon [Rondlardon],
Nibblebacon [Croquelardon],
Baconsnatch [Tirelardon],
Fatbacon [Graslardon],
Savebacon [Saulvelardon],
Archebacon [Archilardon],
Antibacon [Antilardon],
Frizzlebacon [Frizelardon],
Lacebacon [Lacelardon],
Scratchbacon [Grattelardon]
Baconmarch [Marchelardon],
Lustybacon [Guaillardon], by syncope, born; the name of the culinary
doctor was Guaillartlardon; thus you say idolatre for idololatre.
Stiffbacon [Roiddelardon],11
Autobacon [Aftolardon],8
Sweetbacon [Doulxlardon],
Munchbacon [Marchelardon]
Chunkybacon [Trappelardon
Baconnuff [Bastelardon],
Baconspit [Guyllelardon],
Flybacon [Mouschelardon],
Fairbacon [Bellardon],
Newbacon [Neuflardon],
Bitterbacon [Aigrelardon],
Ballbacon [Billelardon],
Spybacon [Guignelardon],
Weighbacon [Poyselardon],
Bagpipe-bacon [Vezelardon],
Lookbacon [Myrelardon], of

Names unknown among the maranos and the Jews,

Bigballs [Couillu],
Salad-chef [Salladier],
Cress-fixer [Cressonnadiere],
Turnipscraper [Raclenaveau],
Swineherd [Cochonnier],
Rabbitskin [Peaudeconnin],
Gravyman [Apigratis],
Pastrycook [Pastissandiere],
Shavebacon [Raslard],
Freefritter [Francbeuignet],
Mustardpot [Moustardiot],
Vintner [Vinetteux],
Porringer [Potageouart],
Madwag [Frelaut],
Ninnyhammer [Benest],
Greensauce [Jusverd],
Potscraper [Marmitige],
Trivet [Accodepot],
Hodgepodge [Hoschepot],
Potbreaker [Brizepot],
Potscourer [Guallepot],
Shivery [Frillis],
Saltythroat [Guorgesalee],
Snaildresser [Escarguotandiere],
Drybouillon [Bouillonsec],
Marchsops [Souppimars],
Chinechopper [Eschinade],
Rennet-curdler [Prezurier],
Macaroon [Macaron],
Skewerman [Escarsaufle],
Crumb [Briguaille]: this one was drawn from the kitchen for room-
duty, for the service of the noble Cardinal [Hunter] Le Veneur;
Spoilroast [Guasteroust],
Dishclout [Escouvillon],
Babybonnet [Beguinct],
Firefanner [Escharbottier],
Longtool [Vitet],
Hugetool [Vitault],
Proudprick [Vitvain],
Cutiepie [Jolivet],
Newprick [Vitneuf],
Foxtailduster [Vistempenard],
Victorian [Victorien],
Oldcock [Vitvieulx],
Hairycock [Vitvelu],
Hastycalf [Hastiveau],
Shortriblady [Alloyaudiere],
Lego'lamber [Esclanchier],
Milkspoiler [Guastelet],
Mountainscaler [Rapimontes],
Blowinbowl [Soudflemboyau],
Skatefish [Pelouze],
Gibeonite [Gabaonite],
Lubber [Bubarin],
Crocodilekin [Crocochllet],
Dandy [Prelinguant; cf., 1.35 above],
Scarface [Balafre; cf., "Snoutslash" above],
Smudgeface [Maschoure],
Mondam, inventor of Sauce Madam,'" and for this invention he was
named thus in Scotch-French,
Clatterteeth [Clacquedens],
Dewlapper [Badiguoincier],
Polyglotter [Myrelanguoy], j
Woodcockbeak [Becdassee],
Rinsepot [Rincepot],
Drinkspiller [Urelipipingues],
Sloven [Maunet],
Stuffguts [Guodepie],
Waffler [Guauffreux],
Saffroneer [Saffranier],i
Unkempt [Malparouart],
Windbag [Antitus],
Turnipgrower [Navelier],
Turnipseed [Rabiolas],
Bloodpuddinger [Boudinandiere],
Piglet [Cochonnet],
Robert, inventor of Sauce Robert, so salubrious and necessary for
roast conies, ducks, fresh port, poached eggs, salt cod, and myriad
other such foods,
Coldeel [Froiddanguille],
Thornback [Rougenraye],
Gurnard [Guourneau],
Rumblegut [Griboullis],
Almscrip [Sacabribes],
Roister [Olymbrius],
Squirrel [Foucquet. cf., 3. Prole],
Tittletattle [Dalyqualquain],
Salmagundi [Salmiguondin],
Merrywing [Gringualet],
Redherring [Aransor: Harengsaur],
Slaplip [Talemouse],
Grosbeak [Grosbec],
Swipesnack [Frippelippes] ,m
Finickygoat [Friantaures],
Thistlechomper [Guaffelaze],
Well-salted [Saulpouddre],
Panfried [Paellefrite],
Oaf [Landore],
Calabrian [Calabre];
Turnipper [Navelet],
Crapcart [Foyrart],
Bigpighoof [Grosguallon],
Turdiman [Brenous],
Sticky [Mucydan],
Sowslayer [Matatruys],
Mixed-grill [Cartevirade],
Cocklicrane [Cocquecygrue],
Knothead [Visedecache],
Besotted [Badelory],
Bullcalf [Vedel],
Coxcomb [Braguibus].15

Inside the sow went these noble cooks, lusty, lively, rough-and-ready,
and quick to fight.16 Frere Jean, with his great cutlass goes in last and locks
the doors with a spring lock from the inside.



CHAPTER 41


How Pantagruel snapped
the Chitterlings over his knee.'


So close did these Chitterlings come that Pantagruel could see how they
were flexing their arms and already starting to lower their lances [to
the ready]. Thereupon he sends Gymnaste to find out what their intentions
were and for what complaint, without provocatiork they were minded to
make war against their old friends, who had given them no offense in
word or deed.

Gymnaste, before their front ranks, made a great deep bow and called
out as loud as he could: "yours, yours, yours are we each and every one
and at your command. We are all in dependency upon Shrovetide
[Mardigras], your old ally."

Some peole have told me since that he, Arid "Tideshrove" [Gradimars],
not "Shrovetide." However that may be, at these words, a great wild
stubby Blood Pudding, stepping out in front of their battalion, tried to
seize him by the throat.

"By God," said Gymnaste, "You'll get in there only in slices; you never
could get in that way whole."

So saying, he pulls out his two-handed sword Kiss-my-ass (that's what
he called it) and cut the Blood Pudding in two.

Honest to God, how fat he was! I was reminded of the Fat Bull of Berne,'
killed at Marignano at the defeat of the Swiss. Believe me, he had
no less than four inches of lard on his belly.

With that Blood Pudding bloodied [Ce cervelat ecervele], the Chitter-
lings attacked Gymnaste, and were foully dragging him down, when
Pantagruel rushed up with his men to his aid. Then the martial combat
began pell-mell. Gobblechitterling [Riflandouille] kept gobbling Chitter-
lings, Chopsausage [Tailleboudin] kept chopping sausages, Pantagruel
kept snapping Chitterlings over his knee. Frere Jean was keeping quiet
inside his Sow, watching and considering everything, when the Veal
Patties [les Guodiveaulx], who were lying in ambush, with a great racket,
came rushing out upon Pantagruel.

Thereupon, when Frere Jean saw the disarray and tumult, he opens the
door of his Sow and comes out with his good soldiers, some carrying iron
spits, some andirons, racks, pans, fire shovels, kettles, grills, oven
forks, pincers, dripping-pans, chimney brooms, great pots, mortars, pistons,
all as orderly as house-burners,3 and all frightfully together: "Nebuzar-
adan! Nebuzaradan! Nebuzaradan!" With shouts and commotion they fell upon
the Veal Patties and broke through Sausages. The Chitterlings suddenly
noticed this new drive and took to their heels at a gallop, as though they
had seen all the devils. Frere Jean kept knocking them into little pieces
with great blows of a crowbar; his soldiers went at it unsparingly. It was
pitiful. The camp was all covered with dead or dying Chitterlings. And
the story goes that if God had not taken care of it, the entire Chitterline
race would have been exterminated by these culinary soldiers. But a
wondrous thing happened. You will believe whatever you want of it.

From the direction of the Transmontane [north wind: across the
mountains] up flew a great fat greasy gray hog, with wings as long
and as wide as a windmill's sails. And his plumage was crimson red, like
that of a Phoenicopter, which in Languegoth is called flamingo. It had
flaming red eyes, like red carbuncles; ears green, like an emerald; teeth
yellow, like a topaz; tail long, black as Lucullan marble;4 feet white,
diaphanous, transparent like a diamond and were largely webbed, like
those of geese and those worn long ago in Toulouse by the Goosefoot
Queen [La Royne Pedaucque]. And it had a golden collar on its neck,
around which ran some Ionic letters, of which I could read only two
words: YE AGFINAN, "swine teaching Athena."5

The weather was fine and clear. But upon the arrival of this monster, it
thundered on the left side, so loud that we all remained astounded. The
Chitterlings, as soon as they espied it, cast down their arms and sticks and
all fell on their knees, hands clasped without a word, as if in adoration.

Frere Jean, with his men, still kept on striking and impaling Chitter-
lings. But by Pantagruel's command retreat was sounded, and all fighting
ceased. The monster, after flying back and forth several times between
the two armies, cast onto the ground over twenty-seven pippes [hogs-
heads] of mustard, then disappeared, flying through the air and crying
out without stopping: "Shrovetide! Shrovetide! Shrovetide! [Mardigras!
Mardigras! Mardigras!]."



CHAPTER 42


How Pantagruel parleys with Niphleseth,1
queen of the Chitterlings.


As the aforesaid monster made no further appearance, and the two
armies remained in silence, Pantagruel asked to parley with the lady
Niphleseth (as the queen of the Chitterlings was named), who was in
her coach near the two banners, which was easily granted.

The queen alighted from her coach and greeted Pantagruel graciously,
and was glad to see him. Pantagruel was complaining of this war. She
ade her excuses honorably, stating that the Vstake had been made
[because of a false report, and that her spies had announced to her that
Fastilent, their old enemy, had come on land and was spending his time
seeing the physeters' urine.2 Then she besought him out of his kindness to
pardon this offense, alleging that in Chitterlings was found rather shit
than gall, on this condition, that she and her successor Niphleseths3 would
forever hold from him and his successors all the island in faith and hom-
age; would obey his commands in all thirts and everywhere; would be
friends of his friends- and enemies of his enemies; each year, in token of
this fealty, would. send him seventy-eight thousand Chitterlings to serve
as his' first course at table for six Months of the year.

This was done by her, and the next day she sent in six great brigantines
the aforesaid number of royal Chitterlings to the good Gargantua, under
charge of the young Niphleseth, Infanta of the island. The noble
Gargantua made present of them to the great king of Paris. But from the
change of air, also for lack of mustard (the natural balm and restorative of
Chitterlings), they almostall died. By the permission and will of the great
Icing they were buried in heaps in a spot in Paris that has since been called
the Chitterling-paved street [la rue Payee d'Andouilles].4

At the request of the ladies of the royal court Niphleseth the Younger
was saved and honorably treated. She has since been married to a good
rich man and has several fine children, for which God be praised.
Pantagruel graciously =thanked the Queen, pardoned the entire offense,
refused the offer she had made, and gave her a pretty little penknife from
Perche.5 Then he questioned her carefully about the apparition of the
aforesaid monster. She replied that it was the Idea of Shrovetide [Mardi-
gras], their tutelary god in time of war, first founder and original of the
whole Chitterline race. Therefore it looked like a hog, for Chitterlings
were extracted from hog. Pantagruel asked for what purpose and curative
indication it had cast forth so much mustard on the ground. The queen
replied that mustard was their Holy Grail [Sangreal]6 and celestial balm,
and by putting a little bit of it in the wounds of the felled Chitterlings, in
a very short time the wounded were healed, the dead resuscitated.

Pantagruel had no further conversation with the queen, and witarew
into his ship. So did all the good companions with their weapons and
their sow.



CHAPTER 43


How Pantagruel went ashore
on the island of Ruach.


Two days later we reached the island of Ruach,' and I swear to you by
the celestial Chicken-brood2 I found the state and the life of the people
stranger than I can say. They live on nothing but wind. They drink
nothing, eat nothing, except wind. They have no houses but weather-
vanes. In their gardens they sow only the three species of anemones;3
all rue and other carminatives they carefully weed out of them. The
common people use for food fans made of feathers, paper, or cloth,
according to their means and capacity. The rich live on windmills. There
they feast, happy as at a wedding, and during their meal they argue over
the goodness, excellence, and salubriousness of the winds, even as you
drinkers do on the matter of wines at your banquets. One praises the
Sirocco;4 another, the Besch;5 another, the Garbino;6 another, the Bise,
another the Zephyr; another the Galerne;7 and so forth. Another favors
the smockwind [le vent de la chemise], for flirts and lovers. For the sick
they invoke a draft [vent couliz], as they feed the sick in our country
on meat broth [couliz].

"O!" a little inflated one was saying to me, "if only one could have a
bladderful of that good Languegoth wind they call the Circius! That
noble doctor Schyron,9 passing through this region one day, was telling
me that it's so strong it tips over loaded carts. O what good that would
do for that Oedipodic leg of mine!'" The stoutest are not the best."

"But," said Panurge, "what about a stout butt of that good Languegoth
wine that grows at Mirevaux, Canteperdris, and Frontignan!"

I saw there a man of good appearance, looking very ventose,12 bitterly
wrathful against a big fat servant of _his and_ a little page, and he was
beating them like the devil, with heavy blows of a buskin. Not knowing
I the cause of his anger, I thought it was on the advice of the doctors,
as a healthy thing for the master to get mad and beat someone, and for the
servants to be beaten. But I heard that. He was reproaching the servants
for his having been robbed of half a goatskinful of dtarbino wind, which he
was keeping dearly, as a rare dish, for the late season.

They neither crap, piss, nor spit on this island. To compensate, they
fizzle, they fart, they belch copiously. They suffer every sort and spe-
cies of malady. Also every malady arises and proceeds from ventosity, as
Hippocrates deduces, in his book On body winds [De flatibus]. But the
most epidemic is the windy colic. To rcndy it, they use ample cupping
glasses [ventoses], and in them void great ventosities. They all die of
dropsy or tympaintes, and the men die farting, the women fizzling. Thus
their soul goes out through their ass.

Later, strolling about the island, we came upon three fat wind-blown
specimens, who were going for sport to watch the plovers that abound
there and live on the same diet [vivent de mesmes diete]. I noticed that
just as you drinkers, going about the region, bear flagons, leather flasks,
and bottles, likewise each of them bore at his belt a nice little bellows.
If by chance wind failed them, with these pretty bellows they made some of
it fresh, by blowing it in and out, as you know that wind, by its essential
definition, is nothing else but flowing and undulating air.

At that point, on behalf of their king, we were ordered not to receive
on board our ships any man or woman of the country. For he had been
robbed of a bladder full of the very wind that that good snorer Aeolus
gave Ulysses long agd- to guide his ship in calm weather,13 which he was
keeping religiously, like another Holy Grail, and with it was curing many
enormous maladies, just by releasing and turning loose to the patients as
much as would be needed to make up a virgin's fart:14 that's what the
Sanctimonials's call sonnet.16



CHAPTER 44


How little rains beat down great winds.


PANTAGRUEL was praising their polity and way of life and said to their
Hypenemean Potentate:

"If you accept Epicurus's view saying that tht sovereign good consists
in sensual pleasure' (pleasure, I mean, that is easy and not painful),
I consider you most happy. For your victuals, which are wind, cost you
nothing or very little; you need only blow."

"True," replied the potentate, "but in this mortal life nothing is in
all respects blessed.2 Often, when we are at table feeding on some good
Godsent wind as on heavenly manna, feeling as good as Fathers [aises
comme Peres], some little rain comes up that takes it away and brings it
down. Thus many meals are lost for lack of victuals."

"That," said Panurge, "is like Johnny from Quinquenais [Jenin de
Quinquenays], who, by pissing on his wife Quelot's fanny, beat down the
stinking wind that was coming out of it as out of a masterly Aeolipyle.'
A while ago I made a pretty little dizain about it:

When one day Johnny tasted his new wine,
Cloudy, fermenting, muddied with its lees,
He asked Quelot to cook up nice and fine
Turnips for supper, if my lady please.
This soon was done. Then, merry and at ease,
They both lie down, sport awhile, snooze away.
But Johnny, vainly trying, sleepless lay,
So loudly Quelot farted, and so fast;
Therefore he pissed on her, and then could say:
"Small rains indeed beat down great rains at last."4

"Besides," said the potentate, "we have an annual calamity, very great
and harmful. This is that a giant named Bringuenarilles, who lives on the
island of Tohu, every year, on the advice of his doctors, he brings himself
here in the springtime to get a purgation and devours a great number of
windmills on us as pills, and also bellows, of which he is very fond, which
comes as a great misery to us, and because of it we fast three or four
Lents each year, except for certain rogations and prayers."

"And don't you know," asked Pantagruel, "any way to prevent this?"
"On the advice," replied the potentate, "of our masters and Mezarim,
we have placed inside the windmills, in the time of year he usually comes
here, many cocks and many hens. The first time he swallowed them,
he wasn't far from dying of it. For they kept singing to him inside
his body and flying back and forth around his stomach, from which he
would fall into a deathlike swoon, angina pectoris, and a horrific and
dangerous convulsion, as if some serpent had got into his stomach
through his mouth."

"That," said Frere Jean, "is a very untimely and preposterous as if. For
some time ago, I heard that a serpent that has got into the stomach causes
no pain, and promptly comes out again if they hang the patient up by his
feet and offer him, near his mouth, a pan full of hot milk."

"You," said Pantagruel, "have that on hearsay; so had those who told it
to you. But such a remedy was never seen or read of. Hippocrates, in
book 5 of Epidemics [lib. S. Epid.], write; that the case happened in his
time and the patient suddenly died in a spasm and convulsion."

"Furthermore," said the potentate, "all the foxes in the region went
into his gullet, chasing the hens, and. he would have passed away at any
moment, were it not that, on the advice of a playful magician, at the time
of the paroxysm he flayed a fox' as an antidote and counterpoison. Later
he got better advice, and his remedy is to have a suppository given him
made up of a concoction of grains of wheat and millet, for which the
same hens came running up, also of gosling livers, and for all these the
foxes came running up. Also some pills that he takes by mouth, com-
posed of greyhounds and terriers. There you see our misfortune."

"Have no fear, good folk," said Pantagruel, "from now on. That great
giant Bringuenarilles, swallower of windmills, is dead. And he died of
choking and suffocation, eating a pat of fresh butter by the door of a hot
oven, on the doctors' orders."



CHAPTER 45


How Pantagruel went ashore
on the island of the Popefigs.


THE next morning we came upon the island of the Popefigs, who were
once rich and free, and were known as Swingers' [Guaillardetz], but
at this time were poor, unhappy, and subject to the Papimaniacs The
occasion of it had been this.

On one annual processional feast day [feste annuelle a bastons], the
burgomaster, syndics, and grand rabbis of the, Swingers had gone for a
pastime to watch the festival in Papimania, the next island. One of them,
seeing the papal portrait (since it was the laudable custom to display it
publicly on processional feast days), made it the sign of the fig,' which in
that country is a sign of manifest contempt and derision. To avenge this,
the Papimaniacs, a few days later, without a word of warning, all took up
arms, surprised, sacked, and ruined the whole island of the Swingers,
putting to the sword every man who wore a beard. The women and
young males were pardoned, on a condition like the one the Emperor
Frederick Barbarossa once used against the Milanese.

The Milanese had rebelled against him and driven his wife the empress
out of the city, ignominiously mounted on an old mule named Thacor3
wrong way round, that is to say with her ass turned toward the head of
the mule and her face toward the crupper.

Frederick, on his return, after subjugating and taking back the city,
made such a thorough search that he recovered the famous mule Thacor.
Thereupon, in the middle of the great Brouet [the marketplace of Milan],
on his orders the hangman placed a fig in the pudenda of Thacor, in the
presence and sight of the captive townsmen, then proclaimed on behalf
of the emperor, to the sound of the trumpets, that any one of them who
wanted to escape death must publicly take the fig out with his teeth,
then put it back in the right place without using his hands. Anyone who
refused would be hanged and strangled on the spot. Some 'of them felt
shame and horror at such an abominable penalty, put it beyond the fear of
death, and were hanged. In others the fear of death won out over such
sense of shame. These, after pulling out the fig with their teeth, display-
ed it clearly to the hangman, saying: Ecco lo fico [Behold the fig].

In the same ignominy the rest of these poor and desolate Swingers were
protected and saved from death. They were made slaves and tributaries,
and had the name Popefigs imposed on them, because they had made the
sign of the fig to the papal portrait. Since that time the poor folk had
not prospered. Every year they had hail, storms, plague, famine, and every
kind of misfortune, as an eternal punishment for the sin of their
ancestors and forefathers.

Seeing the misery and state of the people, we had no wish to go in any
further. Just to take some holy water and commend ourselves to God, we
went into a little chapel near the harbor, ruined, desolate, and roof-
less, as is the temple of Saint Peter in Rome.4 When we had come into
the chapel and were taking some holy water, we noticed in the holy-water
basin a man dressed in stoles and wholly hidden in the water, like a duck
in his dive, except for a bit of his nose to breathe with. Around him were
three priests, well shaven and tonsured, reading from the book of exor-
cisms and conjuring the devils.

Pantagruel found the case strange, and, on askig what were the games
they were playing there, was informed that for the past three years there
had reigned on the island a pestilence so horrible that more than half of
the country had remained deserted and the lands without owners. When
the pestilence had passed, this man hidden in the holy-water basin was.
plowing a big annual field and sowing it with fine winter wheat [touzelle]
on a day and at a time when a little devil (who didn't yet know how to
thunder and hail, except on parsley and cabbage), also didn't know how
to read or write: had got Lucifer's permission to come play and sport on
the island of the Popefigs, on which the devils were very familiar with
the men and women, and often went there to pass the time!

This devil, arriving at the spot, addressed the farmer and asked what
he was doing. The poor man replied to him that he was sowing this field
with winter wheat to help himself to live on through the next year. "All
right," said the devil, "but this field isn't yours, it's mine, and belongs
to me. Forsince the "timeand the moment when you people made the
sign of thefig to the pope, all this region has been adjudged, consigned,
and given over to us. Sowing wheat, however, isn't my profession. There-
fore I leave you the field; but that's on condition that we'll share the
profit."

"I'm willing," replied the farmer.

"I mean," said the devil, "that of the yield that comes we'll make two
sides. One will be what grows above the ground, the other what will be
covered in the ground. The choice belongs to me, for I'm a devil sprung
from an ancient and noble race, you're only a peasant I choose what will
be in the ground; you'll have what's above it. At what time of year will
the harvesting be?"

"In mid-July," replied the farmer.

"All right then," said the devil, "I won't fail to be there For the rest
do as is your duty: work, peasant, work! I'm going to tempt with the lusty
sin of concupiscence the noble nuns of Dryfart [Pettesec], also the hypo-
critical and gluttonous monks. I am more than sure of their wills. When
the two sides meet, the battle will be on."



CHAPTER 46


How the little devil was fooled
by a farmer from Popefigland.


WHEN mid-July had come, the devil again appeared on the spot, ac-
companied by a squadron of little choirboy devils. Meeting the farmer
there, he said to him:

"Now then, peasant, how have you been since I left? This is the time
and place to divide up into our shares."

"That's right," said the farmer.

Then the farmer and his men began to cut the wheat. The little devils
likewise pulled the stubble out of the ground. The farmer threshed his
wheat in his barn, winnowed it, put it into sacks, and took it to the
market to sell. The little devils did likewise, and at the market sat
down near the farmer to sell their stubble. The farmer sold his wheat
just fine, and with the money filled an old half-buskin, which he carried
at his belt. The devils didn't sell a thing; but on the contrary, the peasants
made fun of them right out in the middle of the market.

When the market was closed, the devil said to the farmer: "Peasant,
you fooled me this time, next time you won't fool me."

"Sir devil," replied the farmer, "how could I have fooled you, when
you chose first? True it is that by this choice you thought you'd fool
me, hoping that nothing would come out of the ground for my share, and
that under the ground you'd find entire the grain I'd sowed there, so
you might tempt therewith the needy, hypocrites, or misers and by temp-
tation make them stumble into your snares. But you're very young in
your trade. The grain you see in the ground is dead and rotten, and
the corruption thereof was the generation of the other that you saw me
sell. Thus you were choosing the worse. That's why you are accursed in
the Gospel."

"Let's drop the subject," said the devil. "What will you be able to sow
our field with this coming year?"

"For a good husbandman's profit," said the farmer, "it ought to be
sown with radishes."

"Well then," said the devil, "you're a good 'peasant! Sow radishes
aplenty, I'll protect them from the tempest and I won't hail on them. But
get this: I'm keeping for my share what will be above ground, you'll have
what's underneath. Work, peasant, work! I'm_going to tempt the heretics:
those are the souls fond of carbonadoes; Sir Lucifer is having his colic;
it'll be a nice hot snack for him."

When the time came for reaping, the devil showed up at the place,
with a squadron of little room-service devilkins. There, meeting the
farmer and his men, he began to:cut and ,gather the radish-leaves. After
him went the farmer digging and pulling out the hefty radishes and put-
ting them in sacks. So they both go off together to the market. The
farmer went se ing his radishes very well. The devil didn't sell a thing.
What's worse, people kept making fun of him publicly.

"I see very well," said the devil then, "that I'm tricked by you. I want
to be done with sharing this field between us. That will be on these
terms; that we'll have a scratching-match, and whichever of the two gives
up first shall give up his share in the field. It will remain entire to the
victor. The date shall be a week from now. Go on with you, peasant, I'll
scratch you like the devil. I was going to tempt the thieving Shysteroos,
disguisers of lawsuits, forger notaries, prevaricating advocates; but they've
sent word to me by an interpreter that they were already mine. As a
matter of fact, Sir Lucifer is getting tired of their souls and usually sends
them down to the scullery-knave devils, except when they're well sea-
soned. You folks say there's nothing like schoolboys for breakfast,
nothing like advocates for dinner, like vintners for snacks, merchants for
supper, chambermaids for late snacks, and hobgoblins for all meals?"

"That's true: in fact, Sir Lucifer takes a bite of hobgoblins as a first
course at all his meals. And he used to breakfast on schoolboys. But
alas! I know not by what misfortune, for a number of years these have
added to their studies the holy Bible:3 for this reason we can't draw a
single one of them to the devil any more. And I believe that unless the
hypocrites help us, and take their Saint Paul out of their hands by threats,
insults, force, violence, and burnings, we won't have any more of them to
nibble on down here.

"On advocates who pervert the law and rob the poor he has dinner ordin-
arily, and he has no lack of them. But one does tire of always eating
just one and the same dish. Not long ago he said right in full chapter
meeting that he really would like to eat the soul of a hypocrite who
had forgotten to commend himself in his sermon, and he promised double
pay and a notable position to anyone who would bring him one hot off
the spit [de broc en bouc]. Each one of us went out hunting, but it
has done us no good. They all admonish the noble ladies to give to
their monastery.

"Snacks he has laid off of since he had his bad colic, which came on
because in the northerly countries his nurslings, sutlers, colliers, and
pork-butchers had been villainously maltreated. He sups very nicely on
usurer merchants, apothecaries, counterfeiters, forgers, coiners, adult-
erators of merchandise. And sometimes when he's on top of the wave, he
has midnight suppers of chambermaids who, having drunk up the good wine
of their masters, refill the bottle with stinking water.

"Work, peasant, work! I'm going off to tempt the scholboys of Trebizond4
to leave their fathers and mothers, renounce the common way of life, e-
mancipate themselves from their king's edicts, live in underground
liberty,
despise each and every one, make fun of everyone, and, putting on the
jolly little baby's bonnet of poetic innocence, make themselves into nice
little hobgoblins."



CHAPTER 47


How the devil was fooled
by an old woman of Popefigland.


As the farmer returned to his house, he was sad and pensive. His wife,
seeing him so, supposed he had been robbed at the market. But on
understanding the cause of his melancholy, also seeing his purse full of
money, she gently comforted him and assured him that of this scratchery
no harm would come to him, only he had to depend and rely on her: she
had already thought of a good way out.

"At worst," said the farmer, "I'll get off with a scratching. I'll give
up at the first scratch and leave the field to him."

"No way, no way!" said the old woman; "depend and rely on me and leave
it to me to handle it. You've told me he's a little devil: I'll make him
give up for you right away, and the field will remain ours. If it had
been a big devil, there'd be something to think about,"

The day set for the encounter was the day we arrived on the island.
Early in the morning, the farmer had made a thorough confession, taken
communion as a good Catholic, and dived into hiding inside the holy-
water basin, in the state we had found him in.

At the moment when we were being told this story, we got word that
the old woman had fooled the devil and won the field. The way of it
was this. The devil came to the farmer's doorcnd shouted as he rang:

"Ho there, peasant, peasant! Here, here, with your best claws on!"

Then, entering the house, chipper and fully determined, and not find-
ing the farmer there, he espied. his wife on the floor weeping and
lamenting.

"What's this?" asked the devil. "Where is he? What's he doing?"

"Ha!" said the old woman, "where he is, the villain, the murderer, the
scoundrel? He's wrecked me, I'm done for, I'm dying from the harm he's
done me."

"How's that?" said the devil. "What's the trouble? I'll make him do a
nice dance for you in a little while."

"Ha!" said the old woman, "he told me, the murderer, the tyrant, the
devil-scratcher, that he had an appointment today to scratch it out with
you: to try out his fingernails, he just gave me a scratch with his
little finger here betvcieen my legs, and he's completely wrecked me. I'm
ruined! I'll never recover from it. Look! Besides, he's gone off to the
blacksmith's to point up and sharpen his claws. You're done for, Sir
Devil, my friend! Get out of here! There'll be no stopping him. Go away,
I beg you."

Then she uncovered herself up to the chin in the way the Persian
women long ago showed themselves to their sons fleeing from battle,2
and showed him her whatsitsname [comment a nom].

The devil, seeing the enormous solution of continuity in every dimen-
sion,' cried out:

"Mahound! Demiourgon, Megaera, Allecto, Persephone! He's not catching
me! I'm on my way out of here in a hurry! Sure [Cela]. I'll leave him
the field."

On hearing the denouement and end of the story, we went back into our
ship. And there we made no further stay. Pantagruel gave eighteen thou-
sand gold royals to the collection box for building the church, in con-
sideration of the poverty of the people and utter misery of the place.



CHAPTER 48


How Pantagruel went ashore
on the island of the Papimaniacs.


LEAVING the desolate island of the Popefigs, we sailed for a day in
serenity and all pleasure, when to our sight appeared the blessed island
of the Papimaniacs. As soon as our anchors were weighed in the harbor,
before we had tied up with our cables, there came toward us in a skiff
four persons variously dressed: one as a monk, befrocked, bedunged,
booted [enfrocque, crotte, botte]; another as a falconer, with a lure and
hawking-glove [un leurre et guand de oizeau]; another as a solicitor
of lawsuits, holding in his hand a great sack full of accusations, sum-
monses, chicaneries, and postponements; the fourth as a vine dresser from
Orleans, with fine cloth leggings, a bread basket, and a vine knife at his
belt. The moment they had reached our ship, they all cried out loudly
together, asking:

"Have you seen him, you travelers? have you seen him?"

"Whom?" asked Pantagruel.

"The One," they replied.

"Who's he?" asked Frere Jean, "Ox death, I'll clobber him!"2 think-
ing they were inquiring about someone guilty of robbery, murder, or
sacrilege.

"How's that?" said they. "Don't you know the One and Only?"

"My Lord," said Epistemon. "We don't understand such terms. But
explain to us, please, whom you mean, and we'll tell you the truth about
it without dissimulation."

"He," said they, "is the One Who Is. Have you ever seen him?"

"The One Who Is," replied Pantagruel, "by our theological doctrine, is
God. And in these words He declared Himself to Moses.3 Certainly we
have never seen Him, and He is not visible to bodily eyes."

"We're not talking at all," said they, "about that high God Who reigns
in the heavens. We're talking about the God on earth. Have you ever
seen him?"

"They mean," said Carpalim, "the pope, on my honor!"

"Yes, yes," replied Panurge, "Lord, yes, gentlemen. I've seen three of
them, and the sight of them hasn't done me much good."'

"How's that?" said they, "our holy Decretals chant that there's never
any but one alive."

"I mean," said Panurge, "three in succession, one after another. Other-
wise I've never seen but one at a time."

"O thrice and four times happy people," said they, "pray be welcome
and many times over, welcome."

Then they knelt down before us and wanted to kiss our feet, which we
would not allow them to do, pointing out to them that even to the pope,
if by chance he came there in person, they could do no more.

"Yes we would, yes indeed," they replied, "that's already decided among
us. We'd kiss his ass with no figleaf, and likewise his balls. For he
has balls, the Holy- Father, we find that in our beautiful Decretals;' other-
wise he wouldn't be pope. So that in subtle Decretaline philosophy this
consequence is necessary: he is pope, so he has balls. And if the world
ran out of balls, the world would have no more pope."

Pantagruel meanwhile was asking a ship's boy from their skiff who were
these personage's'. He answered him that these were the four estates of
the island, added furthermore that we would be warmly welcomed and well
treated, since we had seen the pope, which he pointed out to Panurge,
who said to him secretly:

"I swear to God, that's it! rAll comes in time to him who can wait. The
sight of the pope has never done us any good; this time, by all the devils!
it will do us good, so I see."

Then we went ashore, and up to us as in a procession kept coming all
the people of the country, men, women, little children. Our four estates
called out to them loudly:

"They've seen him! They've seen him! They've seen him!"

At this proclamation all the people knelt before us, raising their clasped
hands to heaven and crying out:

"O happy people! O most happy people!"

And this cry lasted more than a quarter hour. Then up ran the school-
master with all his pedagogues, grammar school boys, and schoolboys,
and fell to whipping them magisterially, as they used to whip the little
children in our countries when some malefactor was being hanged, so
that they should remember it. Pantagruel grew angry at this and said
to them:

"Gentlemen, if you don't stop whipping these boys, I'm going back!"

The people were astonished at hearing his stentorian voice, and I saw a
little hunchback with long fingers asking the schoolmaster:

"Power of the Extravagantes! Does everyone who sees the pope grow as big
as this one who's threatening us? How incredibly I can't wait to see him,
so as to grow as big as this one!"

So loud were their exclamations that Grosbeak (Homenaz:7 that was the
name of their bishop) rushed up on an unbridled mule with green trap-
pings, accompanied by his apordinates (as they called them), his subordi-
nates also, bearing crosses, banners, gonfalcons, baldachins, torches, holy-
water basin's. And he likewise tried with all his might to kiss our feet (as
did the good Christian Valfinier with Pope Clement [VII]), saying that
one of their hypophetes,8 a degreaser and glossator of their holy Decretals,
had left it in writing that even as the Messiah, so much and so long
awaited by the Jews, ad come to them at last, just so to this island some
day the pope would come; that while they were awaiting that happy day,
if anyone arrived who had seen him in Rome or anywhere else, they
were to feast him well and treat him with reverence. However, we po-
litely excused ourselves from this.



CHAPTER 49


How Grosbeak, bishop of the Papimaniacs,
showed us the uranopete' Decretals.


THEN Grosbeak said to us: "By our holy Decretals we are enjoined and or-
dered to visit the churches first, before the cabarets. Therefore, not
falling away from that fine regulation, let's go to church; afterward
we'll go and banquet."

"You worthy man," said Frere Jean; "lead on, we'll follow you. You
spoke of this in good terms and as a good Christian. We hadn't seen any
of them for a long time now.fj find myself much rejoiced in my mind
from this, and I think I'll feed the better for it. It's a nice thing to
meet good people."

As we approached the door of the temple, we espied a great gilded book,
all covered with fine precious stones, balas rubies,2 emeralds, dia-
monds, and union pearls, more excellent than those that Octavian conse-
crated to Jupiter Capitolinus [Suetonius Life of Divus Augustus 30.4], or
at least as excellent. And it hung in the air, fastened by great gold chains
to the zoophores3 of the portal. We kept looking at it in wonder. Pantagruel
kept handling it and turning it about at will, for he could easily touch it.
And he asserted that at the touch thereof he felt a gentle itching in his
fingernails and new life in his arms, together with an urgent temptation
in his spirit to beat a sergeant or two, provided they were not tonsured.

Thereupon Grosbeak said to us: "Long ago the law was given to the
Jews by Moses, wntten by the very fingen of God. At Delphi, over the
gate before the temple of Apollo, were found these words, divinely writ-
ten: FINC2e1 HATTON [Know thyself]. And after a certain interval of
time later was seen El [Thou art], also divinely inscribed and transmitted
from the Heavens. So was the image of Cybele transmitted from the
Heavens to Phrygia in the field called Pessinonte.5 So was the image
of Diana into Tauris, if you believe Euripides [Iphigenia in Tauris 85-88].
The oriflame6 was transmitted from the heavens to the noble and most
Christian kings of France to combat the infidels. In the reign of Numa
Pompilius, second king of the Romans in Rome, was seen to descend
from heaven the potent buckler called Ancile [Latin "crooked, curved"].
Onto thg_.cropolis of Athens once fell from the empyrean the statue of
Minerva.' Here likewise you see the holy Decretals, written by the hand
of an angelic cherub. You Transpontine people won't believe it ..."

"Not very well," replied Panurge.

...and miraculously transmitted to us here from the heaven of hea-
vens, in the same way as Homer, father of all philosophy (always except-
ing the divine Decretals), the Nile is called Diipetes.8 And because you
have seen the pope, evangelist and eternal protector to these, by our leave
you will be permitted to see and kiss them inside, if you'd like to. But
you will have to fast for three days in advance and make confession
regularly, carefully culling out and cataloguing your sins so scrupulously
that not a single circumstance of them may fall to the ground, as
is divinely sung to us by the celestial Decretals that you see here. That
takes time."

"Worthy man," replied Panurge, "Decrapppers," or rather I mean
Decretals, we have seen many on lanterned parchment,'" on vellum, both
handwritten and in print By now there's no need for you to take the
trouble to show us this copy; we're content with your good intentions
and thank you just the same."

"Honest to Gosh!" said Grosbeak, "you just haven't seen these evan-
gelically written ones. Those of your country are mere transcriptions of
ours, as we find written in one of our ancient Decretaline scholiasts.
Anyway, I beg you not to try to spare me trouble. Just consider whether
you're willing to make confession and fast for those three fine little days
of God's:"

"To cuntsfess [De cons fesser],"" replied Panurge, "we consent very
readily; only the fast is very untimely for us, for we've fasted so much,
so very much, at sea, that the spiders have spun their webs over our
teeth. Just look at this good Brother Jean des Entommeures ..."

At this title Grosbeak courteously gave him a little accolade.12

"...that moss has grown in his throat for want of moving and exercis-
ing his chaps and his jawbones."

"He's telling you the truth!" put in Frere Jean. "I've fasted so much, so
very much, that it's left me all hunchbacked."

"Then," said Grosbeak,Mees go inside the church; and pardon us if
right now we don't sing yorii God's lovely Mass. The hour is past midday,
after which our holy Decretals forbid us to sing Mass, I mean legitimate
High Mass. I'll say a low dry one for you."

"I'd prefer," said Panurge, "one wet with some good Anjou wine. So
go ahead and knock it off low and stiff."13

"Mother of pearl!" said Frere Jean, "I don't like one bit having my
stomach still fasting. For once I'd had a good breakfast and fed well
monkish style, if by chance he sings us some Requiem, I'd have brought
some bread and wine gone down the hatch. Patience! Sack, clash, push,
but truss it up short, for fear it may get filthy, and for another reason
too, I beg you!"



CHAPTER 50


How by Grosbeak we were shown
the archetype of a pope.


WHEN the mass was over, Grosbeak drew out of a coffer near the high
altar, a great jumble of keys, with which he opened, past thirty-two
locks and fourteen padlocks, a window over the Aid altar, tightly barred
with iron bars; then, with great mystery, he covered himself with a wet
sack and, pulling back a curtain of crimson satin, showed us a picture,
rather badly painted in my opinion, touched it with a longish stick, and
had us all kiss the end that had touched it. Then he asked us:

"What do you think of that picture?"

"It," said Pantagruel, is a likeness of a pope. I can tell him by the tiara,
the amice, the surplice, and the slipper."

"Well said," said Grosbeak, "This is the Idea of that good God on
earth, whose coming we await devoutly and whom some time we hope
to see in this land. O what a happy and long-desired and keenly awaited
day!"

"And you, happy and most happy, who have had the stars so favorable
that you have seen alive, face to face and in reality, this good God on
earth, by seeing merely whose portrait we gain full remission of all our
sins that we can remember, also, of our forgotten sins, one-third of them
plus thirteen quarantines!' And so we see it only at the great annual
festivals."

At that point Pantagruel said it was such a work as Daedalus used to
make. Even though it was an imitation and badly drawn, still there was
latent in it some divine energy in the matter of pardons.

"Just as at Seuilly," said Frere Jean, on one good feast-day when the
-beggars were boasting, one of getting six half-sous [blancs] that day,
another two sous, another seven carolus, one fat bum was boasting of get-
ting three good testoons."

"And so," retorted his companions, "you have a God's game leg [une
jambe de Dieu]," as if some touch of divinity were hidden in a leg all
infected and rotted."

"When you tell us such stories," said Pantagruel, "remember to bring a
basin: I'm almost ready to throw up. To use the holy name of God in
such filthy and abominable things! Fie! I say Fie!2 If such an abuse of
words is customary in your monkery, leave it there, don't bring it outside
the cloisters."

"So," said Epistemon, "the doctors say that in some maladies there is
some participation of divinity. Similarly Nero used to praise mushrooms
and in a Greek proverb called them 'food of the gods,' because inside
them he had poisoned his predecessor Claudius, emperor of Rome."

"It seempto me," said Panurge, "that this portrait is faulty for our latest
popes; for I've seen them wearing, not an amice, but a helmet on their
head crested: with a Persian tiara, and, when all Christendom was in peace
and quiet, I've seen them alone waging outrageous cruel war."

"Then that," said Grosbeak, "was against the rebels, heretics, desperate
Protestants, not obedient to the sanctity of this good God on earth. That's
not only allowed him and legal but commanded by the holy Decretals,
and he must immediately put to fire and the sword emperors, kings,
dukes, princes, republics, once they transgress one iota of his commands;
despoil them of their goods, dispossess them of their kingdom, proscribe
them, anathematize them, and not only slay their bodies and those of
their children and other relatives but also damn their souls in the depths
of the most burning caldron there is in hell."

"Here, by all the devils," said Panurge, "these are not heretics, as was
Raminagrobis and as they are amid the Germanies3 and in England. You
are Christians sifted out on the sieve."

"Yes, honest to Gosh [Ouy, vraybis]," said Grosbeak; "and so we'll all
be saved. Let's go take some holy water, then we'll have dinner."



CHAPTER 51


Small talk during dinner
in praise of the Decretals.


Now note, topers, that during Grosbeak's dry mass, three church bell-
ringers, each bearing a great basin in his hand, were walking through the
people, crying aloud:

"Don't forget the happy people who have seen him face to!"

While leaving the temple, these men brought Grosbeak their basins all
full of Papimanic coins. Grosbeak told us that that was to feast with and
that one half of this contribution and tax would be employed to drink
well, the other to eat well, pursuant to a mirific gloss hidden in a certain
little corner of the holy Decretals.

This was done, and in a handsome tavern rather like Guillot's' in
Amiens. Believe me, the feeding was copious and the drinking bouts
numerous. In this dinner I noticed two memorable things: one, that no
meat was brought on, whatever it was, whether roebucks, capons, hogs
(of which there is an abundance in Papimania), or pigeons, rabbits,
leverets, turkeys, or others, in which there was not a plethora of magiste-
rial stuffing;2 the other, that all the main courses and desserts were
brought on by marriageable young maidens of that place, beautiful, I
swear to you, palpitating, blond, sweet and gracious,' who, dressed in
long, white, loose robes with double girdles, heads bare, hair entwined
with little fillets and ribbons of violet silk adorned with roses, carnations,
marjoram, dill, southernwood, and other fragrant flowers, at each beat
kept inviting us to drink, with charming expert curtseys. nd all those
present enjoyed watching them. Frere Jean kept looking at them out of
the corner of his eye, like a dog carrying off a chicken.

As they cleared off the first course they melodiously sang an epode in
praise of the sacrosanct Decretals. As they brought on the second course
[the dessert], Grosbeak, all beaming with joy, addressed himself to one of
the master butlers and said:

"Cleric, bring a light."4

At these words, one of the girls promptly offered him a great beaker of
Extravagant wine. He took it in his hand and said to Pantagruel with a
deep sigh:

"My Lord, and you, my fine friends, I drink to you all right from the
heart. Do be ever s6 welcome!"

Once he had drunk and returned the beaker to the charming maiden,
he exclaimed heavily: 'O divine Decretals! So good is wine made to taste
by you!"

"That, said Panurge, "is not the worst of the lot!"

"It would be better," said Pantagruel, "if they could make bad wine good."

"O seraphic Sixth!" Grosbeak went on, "how necessary you are to the
salvation of poor humans! O cherubic Clementines! how aptly is contained
and described in you the perfect training of a true Christian! O angelic
Extravagantes! without you how poor souls would perish which wander
about in human bodies here below in this vale of tears! Alas! when will
come that gift of special grace granted to humans, to desist from all other
studies and business to read you, understand you, know you, use, prac-
tice, incorporate you, change you into blood and center you in the deep-
est lobes of their brains, the innermost marrow of their bones, the com-
plex labyrinths of their arteries? O then, and no sooner or otherwise, how
happy the world!"

At these words, Epistemon got up and said quite candidly to Panurge:

"The lack of a close-stool forces me to get out of here. This stuffing has
unstopped my bumgut. I can hardly wait."

"O then," said Grosbeak as he went on, "no trace of hail, frost, fogs,
climatic disaster! O then, abundance of all good things on earth! O then,
obstinate peace, unshatterable, in all the universe, cessation of wars, pil-
lages, forced drudgery, brigandage, assassinations, except against the ac-
cursed heretics and rebels! O then, joyousness, bliss, solace, pastimes,
pleasures, delights, in all human nature. But O great teaching, inestimable
erudition, deific precepts, mortised by the divine chapters of these eternal
Decretals! O how, on reading just one half-canon, one little paragraph,
just one sentence of these sacrosanct Decretals, you feel inflamed in your
hearts the furnace of divine love, of charity toward your neighbor, pro-
vided he is not a heretic, assured disdain of fortuitous and earthly things,
ecstatic elevation of your spirits, even up to the third heaven, certain
contentment in all that you care about!"8



CHAPTER 52


Continuation of the miracles
occasioned by the Decretals.


THIS talk sounds good,"' said Panurge, "but I believe as little of it as
I can. For I happened one day in Poitiers, at the Scotchman's, the
Decretaline Doctor,2 to read a chapter of it; devil take me if, on the
reading thereof, I was not so constipated in my belly that for over four,
even five, days, I crapped only one tiny turd. Do you know what kind?
Such, I swear to you, as Catullus says are those of his neighbor Furius:

In one whole year not ten turds do you shit;
And if by hand you break them up a bit,
No dirt upon your finger will be shown,
For each is harder than a bean or stone.3

"Aha!" said Grosbeak, "Snyan,4 my friend, you may just by chance have
been in a state of mortal sin."

"That bit," said Panurge, "is wine from another barrel."

"One day," said Frere Jean, "at Seuilly I'd wiped my ass on a sheet of
some wretched Clementine, which Jean uymard, our bursar, had tossed
onto the meadow of the cloister; may all the devils take me if the skin
chaps near the anus and the hemorrhoids didn't come upon me so very
horrible that my poor little brown asshole was all shot."'

"Snyan," said Grosbeak, "that was evident punishment by God, aveng-
ing the sin you had committed by beshitting these holy books, which you
should have been kissing and adoring, I mean with the adoration of latria,6
or hyperdulia7 at the least. Panormitarjus never lied about it."

"Johnny Jumpup8 in Montpellier," said Ponocrates, "had bought from
the monks of Saint-Olary 9 a fine set of Decretals written on great hand-
some Lamballe parchment to make into vellum for gold-beating.1 The
trouble with that was so strange that never was a piece struck with it that
was any good to him. All were tattered and gutted.

"Divine punishment," said Grosbeak, "and vengeance!"

"At Le Mans," said Eudemon, "Francois Cornu [Horned Frances], the
apothecary, had used for making paper comets a dog-eared copy of the
Extravagantes: I renounce the devil if all that was packed in it was not
instantly poisoned, rotted, and spoiled: incense, pepper, cloves, cinna-
mon, saffron, 'wax, spices, cassia rhabarb, tamarind, in fact everything,
drugs, purges, and rnedications."'

"Vengeance," said Grosbeak, and divine punishment. To misuse in
profane matters such holy scriptures as these!"

"In Paris," said Carpalim, "Groignet, a tailor, had used some old
Clementines for patterns and measures. O what a strange case! All clothes
cut on such patterns and measures were spoiled and ruined: robes, hoods,
cloaks, gowns, jackets, neckpieces, doublets, smocks, riding coats, and
farthingales. Groignet, thinking to cut a hood, would cut the form of a
codpiece. Instead of a smock he would cut a hat fit to hold plum pits. On
the pattern of a long coat he would cut an amice. On the pattern of a
doublet he would cut out the shape of a paele 12 His helpers, after sewing
it, would cut holes in it on the bottom, andit seemed like a pan for
roasting chestnuts! For a collar he would make a buskin. On the pattern
of a farthingale Tel would cut out a riding hood. Thinking to make a
cloak, he would make a Swiss soldier's drum. To such a point that the
poor man was condemned in law to pay for all his customer's goods, and
at present he's broke [au saphran]."

"Divine punishment," said Grosbeak, "and vengeance!"

"At Cahusac," said Gymnaste, "an archery match was set up between
Lord d'Estissac and Viscount de Lausun. Perotou had chopped up half a
Decretals of the good Canon La Carte, and out of the leaves had cut out
the white of the target. I'll give myself, sell myself, hurl myself through
all the devils, if ever a crossbowman of the region (and these were superla-
tive in all Guyenne) shot one arrow into it. All were to one side. None
of the sacrosanct chalkened white was deflowered or touched. Moreover,
Sansornin the Elder, who was holding the stakes, kept swearing to us
Figues Dioures,'4 his great oath, that he had seen clearly, visibly, manifestly,
Carquelin's bolt, heading straight into the bull's eye in the middle of the
white, on the point of contact and going in, to be deflected a fathom
away, to one side, toward the bakehouse."

"A miracle," cried Grosbeak, "a miracle, a miracle! Cleric, bring a light!
I drink to you all! You seem to me like real Christians."

At these words the girls began to snicker among themselves. Frere Jean
was whinnying from the tip of his nose as if ready to play stallion or at
least donkey,15 and leap them like Herbath16 onto poor folk.

"It seems to me," said Pantagruel, "that with such whites a man would
have been safer from the danger of an arrow than ever was Diogenes
long ago."

"What?" asked Grosbeak, "was he a Decretalist?"

"That," said Epistemon, returning from his business, "is hitting the
nail right on the thumb!"

"Diogenes," replied Pantagruel, "looking for sport one day, went to
watch the archers shooting at the target. Among them was one so wild,
inept, and clumsy, that when he lined up to shoot, all the spectators
moved away for fear of being hit by him. Diogenes, after watching him
shoot so perversely that his arrow fell more than a perche [about five feet]
away from the butt, at his next shot, as the crowd moved far away on
one side or the other, took his stand right next to the white, affirming
that this spot was the safest and that the white alone was in safety from
the arrow."18

"A page," said Gymnaste, "of Lord d'Estissac, named Chamouillac,
spotted the charm. On his advice Perotou changed the white and used
the papers of the Pouillac lawsuit.° Thereupon they all shot very well."

"At Landerousse,"20 said Rhizotome, "at the marriage of Jean Delif, the
feast was notable and sumptuous, as was the custom of the region. After
supper several farces, comedies, amusing conceits were performed; there
were several mortis dances with jangles and drums; various masques and
mummeries were introduced. My schoolmates and I, to honor the feast as
best we could (for we had all in the morning gotten beautiful white and
violet liveries), toward the end got up a merry mascarade with many
shells from Saint-Michel and pretty snailshells. For lack of arum, burdock,
or brown mullein leaves and of paper, out of some leaves of an old
Sextum that had been left there we made our face masks, cutting them out
a bit in the places for the eyes, the nose, and the mouth. A marvelous
thing! When our little carols and childish entertainments were done, on
removing our false faces we appeared, f.ore hideous, and ugly than the
devilkins of the Doue Passion,2' so badly were our faces messed up in the
places touched by the said leaves. One of them had the arnallpox, another
the plague-spot [le tac], another' the .great pox, another the measles, an-
other great furuncles. In short, each one considered himself unharmed
whose teeth had fallen out.

"A miracle!" cried Gros eak, "a miracle!"

"It's not yet time," said Rhizotome, "to laugh. My two sisters
Catherine and Renee had put inside this fine Sextum as in a press (for it
was covered with big boards and studded with heavy nails) their wimples,
sleeyes, and collars freshly soaped, quite white and starched. By the power
of God . . . "

"Wait," said Grosbeak.' "Which God dojou mean?"

"There's only one," replied Rhizotome.

"Yes indeed;" said Grosbeak, "in heaven. Don't we have another one
on earth?"

"Giddap [Any avant]!" said Rhizotome. I wasn't thinking about that
one any more, 'pon thy soul! By the power, then, of the pope God on
earth, their wimples, neckpieces, bibs, headscarves, all other linen turned
blacker than a charcoal-burner's sack."

"A miracle!" exclaimed Grosbeak. "Cleric, bring a light here [Clerice,
esclaire icy],22 and note down these fine stories."

"Then how is it," said Frere Jean, "that people say:

Since first Decrees had wings,
And soldiers boxed their things,
Monks had their horse to ride,
And ills spread far and wide."23

"I know what you mean," said Grosbeak. "Those are little japes of the
new heretics."



CHAPTER 53


How by virtue of the Decretals
gold is subtly drawn from France into Rome.


"I would like,". said Epistemon, "to have paid for a half pint of tripes
ready to eat, and for us to have collated from the original those terrifying
chapters, Execrabilis, De multa, Si plures, De annatis per totum, Nisi essent,
Cum ad monasterium, Quod dilectio, Mandatum,2 and certain others, which
in every year draw from France to Rome four hundred thousand ducats
and more."

"That, is that nothing?" said Grosbeak. "However, it seems to me
rather little, seeing that the most Christian France is the sole nursing
mother of the Roman court. But can you find me books in the world,
whether on philosophy, medicine, law, mathematics, humane letters,
even (by that God of mine) of the holy Scripture, which can extract as
much from there? Nix! Pish, tush! You won't find any with this
aurifluous energy [ceste auriflue energie], I assure you. Besides, these
heretic devils will not learn and know them. Burn them, tear them with
pincers, cut with shears, drown, hang, impale, break their shoulders, dis-
embowel, chop to bits, fricassee, grill, slice up, crucify, boil, crush, quar-
ter, smash to bits, unhinge, charcoal-broil these wicked heretics,
decretalifuges, decretalicides, worse than homicides, worse than parri-
cides, decretalictones3 of the devil.

Now you worthy people, if you want to be called and reputed true
Christians, I beseech you with clasped hands not to believe anything else,
not to think anything else, not to say, undertake, or do anything, except
what is contained in our holy Decretals and their commentaries: that
lovely Sextum, those beautiful Clementines, those handsome Extravagantes.
O what deific books! Thus you will be revered by everyone in this world
in glory, honor, exaltation, riches, dignities, preferments, dreaded by each
and every one, preferred to all, elected and chosen over all. For there is
no estate under the cope of heaven in which you will find people more fit
to do and handle no matter what than those who, by divine foreknowl-
edge and eternal predestination, have devoted themselves to the study of
the holy Decretals.

"Do you want to choose a doughty emperor, a good captain, a worthy
chief and leader of an army in wartime, knowing well how to foresee all
problems, avoid all dangers, lead his men into the assault and combat in
high spirits, risk nothing, always win without loss of his soldiers, and
make good use of his victory? Take me a Decretist.4 No, no! I mean
a Decretalist."

"O what a juicy slip!" said Episternon.

"Do you want to find in peacetime a man apt and adequate to govern
well the state of a republic, of a kingdom, of an empire, of a monarchy,
maintain the Church, the nobility, the Senate, and the people in rich-
es, sanity, concord, obedience, virtue, honor? Take me a Decretalist.

"Do you want to find a man who by an exemplary life, fine talk, holy
admonitions, in a short time and without shedding human blood, will
conquer the Holy Land and convert to the holy faith the miscreant
Turks, Jews, Tartars, Muscovites, Mamelukes, and Sarabaites?6 Take me
a Decaretalist.

"What makes the people in many countries rebellious and unruly, the
pages greedy and bad, the schoolboys rubbernecks and lazy asses? Their
preceptors, their squires, their tutors were not Decretalists.

"But who (in all conscience) was it that estabished, confirmed, autho-
rized these lovely religious orders, with which in every place you see
Christianity adorned, decorated illustrated, as the firmament is with its
bright stars? Divine Decretals.

'What has founded, supported, based, what maintains, sustains, nour-
ishes the pious religious throughout the convents, monasteries, abbeys,
without whose continual prayers by day, by night, the world would be in
evident danger of returning to its ancient chaos? Holy Decretals.

"What makes, and day by day augments in its abundance of all tempo-
ral, corporeal, and spiritual goods the famous, celebrated patrimony of
Saint Peter? Holy Decretals.

"What makes the Apostolic See in Rome, from all time and today, so
redoubtable in the universe that willy-nilly, all kings, emperors, poten-
tates, and lords must depend on it, be indebted to it, be crowned, con-
firmed, authorized to submit and fall prostrate before the mirific slipper,
the picture of which you have seen? God's lovely Decretals.

"I want to divulge to you a great secret. The universities of your world
ordinarily bear in their coats of arms a book, some open, some closed.
What book do you think that is?"

"I certainly don't know," replied Pantagruel. "I've never read in it."

"It," said Grosbeak, "is the Decretals, without which would perish the
privilege of all the universities. I got you on that one! Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

Here Grosbeak began to burp, fart, laugh, drool, and sweat, and handed
his great greasy four-codpiece bonnet to one of the girls, who, after
kissing it amorously, set it on her lovely head in great delight, as pledge
and assurance that she would be the first one married.

"Vivat!" cried Epistemon, "vivat! fifat! pipat! bibat!' O what an apoca-
lyptic secret!"

"Cleric," said Grosbeak, "bring a light here, a pair of lanterns. On with
the fruit, lassies! So I was saying that, by devoting ourselves to the sole
study of the holy Decretals, you will be rich and honored in this world.
I say consequently that in the other you will infallibly be saved in the
blessed Kingdom of Heaven, the keys to which are given to our good
Decretaliarch God. O my good God, Whom I adore and have never
seen, by Thy speciarerace open unto us at the point of death, at least, that
very sacred treasure of our mother holy church, of which Thou art the
Protector, Preserver, Distributor, Administrator, Dispenser! And see to it
that the jaws of hell may not engulf us! If pass through purgatory
we must, patience! In Thy power and will it lies to deliver us from it, if
Thou wilt."

Here Grosbeak began to shed great hot tears, beat his chest, and cross
his thumbs and kiss them.



CHAPTER 54


How Grosbeak gave Pantagruel
some good-Christian' pears.


EPISTEMON, Free Jean, and Panurge, seeing this doleful conclusion,
under cover of their napkins began to call out: "Meow, meow, meow
[Myault, myault, myault]!" meanwhile pretending to wipe their eyes as if
they had been crying. The girls were well trained, and offered everyone
full beakers of Clementine wine with plenty of sweetmeats. Thus was the
banquet once again rejoiced.

At the end of the meal Grosbeak gave us a large Dumber of big hand-
some pears, saying: "Here, my friends, are singular pears, which you
won't find anywhere else. Not every land bears everything. India alone
bears black ebony. In Sheba the good incense grows. On the island of
Lemnos the clay for vermilion.' In this island alone grow these lovely
pears. Make seedbeds of them, if you see fit, in your countries."

"What do you call them?" asked Pantagwel. "They stem to me very
good and with very nice juice. If you cooked them in casseroles with a
little wine and sugar, I think it would be a very salubrious dish for both
the sick and the healthy."

"We call them no of er way," replied grosbeak. "We're simple folk,
since God so pleases: And we call figs figs, plums plums, and pears pears."

"Truly," said Pantagruel, "when I'm back home (that, God willing, will
be soon), I'll plant and graft some in my garden in Touraine on the
bank of the Loire, and they shall be called good-Christian pears.
For I've never seen better Christians than these Papimaniacs are."

"I'd just as soon," said Frere Jean, "he gave us two or three cartloads
of his girls."

"What for?" asked Grosbeak.

"To bleed them," replied Frere Jean, "between the two big toes with
,certain highly sensitive pointed probes. In so doing, we would engraft
upon them some good Christian children, and the race of them would
multiply in our countries, in which they are none too good."

"Lan's sakes!" replied Grosbeak, "we will not, for you'd play your idiot
bachelor's tricks' on them! I can tell it by your nose, and yet I'd never
seen you5. Alas! You're a fine one! Would you really want to damn your
soul? Our Decretals forbid that. I wish you knew them well."

"Hold on [Patience]!" said Frere Jean. "But, si tu non vis dare, praesta,
quesumus.6 That's breviary matter. In that domain I fear no mant'wearing a
beard, even were he a doctor of crystalline (I mean Decretaline) with a
triple hood."

When dinner was over we took leave of Grosbeak and of all that good
people, thanking them humbly, and in return for so many kindnesses
promising them that when we came to Rome we would work on the
pope so well that he would shortly go to see them in person. Then we
went back to our ship. Pantagruel, out of liberality and gratitude about
the holy portrait, gave Grosbeak nine pieces of cloth of gold embroidered
upon embroidery, to be placed in front of the iron-barred windows, had
their box for repair and construction filled full? of double clog-crowns,'
and had delivered to each one of the girls who had served at table during
dinner nine hundred and fourteen gold saluts to get them married at an
appropriate time.



CHAPTER 55


How on the high seas
Pantagruel heard some unfrozen words.


ON the open sea, as we were banqueting, nibbling, conversing and
making fine short discourses, Pantagruel got to his feet to scan around
him. Then he said to us: "Mates, do you hear. anything? It seems to me
I hear people talking up in the air, but all the same I don't see anyone.
Listen!"

We were attentive to his command, and sniffed the air in great earfuls
like fine oysters on the shell' to hear whether there could be any sound
around, and, in order not to miss any, after the example of the Emperor
Antoninus,2 some of us cupped our hands behind our ears. Nevertheless
we protested that we heard no voices whatever. Pantagruel kept on af-
firming that he heard various voices in the air, of both men and women,
and then it struck us that we were either hearing them too or hearing
things. The more we persevered in listening, the more we made out the
voices, until we could understand entire words, which frightened us
greatly, since we saw no one, and heard voices and sounds so diverse, of
men, women, children, and horses; to the point where Panurge cried out:

"Gorbelly!3 Is this some trick? We're done for. Let's get out of here!
There's an ambush all around. Frere Jean, are you there, my friend? Stay
close to me, I beseech you. Do you have your cutlass? Be sure it doesn't
stick in the scabbard. You don't clean the rust off it at all in our ship.
We're done for! Listen: these, by God, are cannon shots. Let's flee! I don't
mean with feet and hands, as Brutus said at the battle of Pharsalia, I mean
with sails and oars.4 Let's get out of here! Let's escape! I don't mean for
any fear I have, for I fear nothing except dangers; that's what I always say.
So did the Free Archer of Baignolet. Therefore let's not press our luck, so
we don't get struck.' Let's get out! About face! Turn the helm, you
whoreson! Would God I were right now in Quinquenais, on pain of never
marrying! Let's get out of here! Let's make all the sail we can, for
they may be too hard for us; we might not be able to cope with them.
After all, they are ten to our one. They are also on their own dunghill,
while we do not know the country. They'll be the death of us. That'll be
no dishonor to us.

"Demosthenes says that the man who flees will fight again. Let's at least
pull back. Port! Starboard! Man the topsail! Man the bowlines [au boulin-
gues]! We're goners! Let's get out o1 here! In the name of all the devils,
let's get out!"

Pantagruel, hearing the uproar Panurge was making, said: "Who's that
runaway over there? Let's first see what sort of people they are. They may
peradventure be our own. I still don't see anyone, and I can see for a
hundred miles around. But let's listen. I've read that a philosopher named
Petron6 was of the opinion that there were several worlds touching one
another in the form of an equiiateral triangle, at the base and center
of which he says were the abode of Truth and the habitat of Words,
Ideas,' the exemplars and images of all things past and future, and all
around these was the Age.' And in certain years, at long intervals, part of
these fell upon humans like catarrhs, and as the dew fell upon Gideon's
fleece; 9 part of them remain reserved for the future, until the consumma-
tion of the Age.

"I also remember that Aristotle says that Homer's words are prancing,
flying, moving, and consequently animate."' Moreover, Antiphanes used
to say that Plato's doctrine was like certain words, which in some region
or other, in the depths df a hard winter, freeze and turn to ice in the cold
of the air, and are not heard.. Likewise that what Plato taught young
children was scarcely understood by them when they had grown old."

"Now it would be something to think about and look into whether by
any chance this might be the place where such words unfreeze [thaw
out]. We would certainly be most amazed if these were the head and lyre
of Orpheus. For after the Thracian women had torn Orpheus to pieces,
they threw his head and his lyre into the river Hebrus; these floated down
by this river into the Black Sea and on through all the way to the island
of Lesbos, all the time swimming together over the sea. And from the
head continually came forth a lugubrious song, as if lamenting the death
of Orpheus; the lyre, played on by the moving winds, kept tune harmo-
niously with the song. Let's look and see whether you can see them
around here."



CHAPTER 56


How among the frozen words
Pantagruel found some lusty jests.


THE skipper made answer: "Lord, don't be afraid of anything! Here is
the edge of the glacial [Arctic] Sea, on which, at the beginning of last
winter there was a great fierce battle between the Arimaspians2 and the
Nephelibates. Then in the air froze the words and cries of the men and
women, the clashing of maces, the banging of armor for men and hones,
the neighing of the horses, and every other tumult of combat. Right
now with the rigor of the winter past, and the serenity of the good
weather coming on, they are melting and are heard."

"By God," said Panurge, "I do believe he's right! But might we see
one of them? I remember reading that by the edge of the mountain on
which Moses received the law of the Jews, the people could literally see
the voices."

"Look, look!" said Pantagruel, "here are some that are not yet un-
frozen."

Then he cast down on the deck for us handfuls of frozen words, and
they seemed like candies, variegated in divers colors. There we saw some
lusty jests, jests of azure, sable, gold,' which all, on being warmed up a
little between our hands, melted like so much snow, and we could really
hear them, but not understand them, for it was a barbarous language.
Except for one rather plump one, which, when warmed by Frere Jean
between his hands, made a sound such as chestnuts do when tossed on the
coals without being split, and then bunt, and made us all start with fright.

"That," said Frere Jean, "was a falconet shot in its day."

Panurge asked Pantagruel to give him some more. Pantagruel replied
that giving words was a thing that lovers do.'

"Sell me some then," Panurge kept saying.

"That's a thing that lawyers do," replied Pantagruel, "sell words.' I
would rather sell you silence, and more dear, even as Demosthenes sold
it, by means of his arge_mangine."

This notwithstanding, he tossed three or four Andfuls onto the deck.
And among them I saw some words that stung, some that drew blood
(which the captain said sometimes returned to the spot they were sent
from, but it was with their throats cut),' some horrific words, and o-
thers I, rather unpleasing to sec When these were melted together we heard:
"Hin, hin, hin, hisse;8 tick, tock, tack, brededin, brededac, frr, frrr, frr,
bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, traccc, trr, trrr, trrrrr, on, on, on,
ououououotiouououon, oth, magoth," and I know .not what other barbarous
words; he said that these were yocables from the crashing and from the
neighing of the horses at the time of the clash. Then we heard some other,
coarse ones, and in unfreezing they made a noise, some as of drums and
fifes, some as of bugles and trumpets.

Believe me, we had lots of good fun. I wanted to put a few lusty jests
in reserve in oil, as you keep snow and ice. But Pantagruel wouldn't have
it, saying that it, "was folly to keep a reserve of what you never lack
and always have in hand, as are lusty jests among all good joyous
Pantagruelists3

Here Panurge angered Frere Jean quite a bit, until he was beside him-
self, for he took him at his word at the moment when he least expected
it," and Frere 'Jean threatened to make him sorry for it the way G.
Jousseaulme was sorry he sold the cloth on his word to the noble
Pathelin,12 and, if it had turned out that Panurge got married, to take him
by the horns like a calf, since Panurge had taken him at his word like a
man. Panurge flipped his lower lip at him as a sign of derision." Then he
cried out and said:

"Would to God that here and now, without going any further, I might
have the word of the Divine Bottle!"



CHAPTER 57


How Pantagruel went ashore
at the abode of Messere Gaster,'
first master of arts in the world.


ON that day Pantagruel went ashore on an island wonderful among all
others, both because of its site and of the governor thereof At the outset
on all sides it was rugged, stony, mountainous, infertile, unpleasing to the
eye, very hard on the feet, and hardly less inaccessible than the mount in
Dauphine called as it is because it is shaped like a toadstool, and in the
memory of man no one has been able to climb it, except Doyac,' master
of the artillery for King Charles the Eighth, who with wondrous ma-
chines got up it and on top found an old ram. It was anyone's guess who
had transported him there. Some said that as a young lamb, snatched up
there by some eagle or tawny owl, he had escaped among the bushes.

Overcoming the difficulty of the entry, with very great effort and not
without sweat, we found the mountaintop so pleasing, so fertile, so
healthy and delightful, that I thought it was the real earthly Garden of
Paradise, about whose location the good theologians argue and toil so?
But Pantagruel asserted that there was the abode of Arete (that is virtue)
described by Hesiod [Works and Days 289], this however without preju-
dice to sounder opinion.

The governor of the island was Messere Gaster (Sir Belly), first master
of arts in the world. If you think that fire is the great master of arts, as
Cicero writes, you are mistaken and are going wrong, for Cicero never did
believe it. If you think that Mercury was the first inventor of the arts,
as our ancient druids believed long ago, you are far off the track. The
statement of the Satirist' is true, who says that Messere Gaster is mas-
ter of all the arts. With him dwelt peaceably the good lady Penia,' other-
wise called Want, mother of the nine Muses, to whom long ago in conjunc-
tion with Porus, lord of Abundance, was born to us Love, the noble
child mediator between Heaven and Earth, as Plato attests in his Sympo-
sium [203b].

To this lordly king we had perforce to pay reverence, swear obedience,
and bear honor. For he is imperious, rigorous, round, tough, hard, and
inflexible. One cannot convince him of anything, point out to him any-
thing, persuade him of anything. He just doesn't hear. And as the Egyp-
tians used to say that Harpocras, god of silence--in Greek called
Sigalion--was astome that is to say mouthless,6 so Gaster was created with-
out ears; as in Candia the statue of Jupiter was without ears. He speaks
only by-signs. But his signs everyone obeys more promptly than the edicts
of praetors and commands of kings. When.he gives orders he admits of no
delay or deferment. You can say that at the lion's roar all animals far
around tremble, as far (that is to say) as his voice can be heard. This is
written. It is true. I have seen it. I certify to you that at Messere Gaster's
command all heaven trembles and all the earth quakes. The name of his
command is: hop to it without delay, or die.

The captain was telling us how one day, on the model of the members
conspiring against the belly as Aesop describes it,' the whole kingdom of
the Somates conspired against him to pull out of their obedience to him.
But soon they felt the consequences of it, repented of it, and returned
in all humility to his service. Otherwise they would all have perished of
dire famine.

Whatever companies he is in, one must not debate over superiority or
precedence; always he goes ahead of all, were they kings, emperors, or
even the pope. And at the Council of Basin' he went first, although they
tell you that the said Council was seditious because of the contentions
and ambitions over precedence. To serve him everyone is busy, everyone
toils. And so in recompense he does the world this good: that he invents
for it all arts, all machines, all trades, all devices and subtle contri-
vances. Even the brute beasts he teaches skills denied them by nature. Crows,
jays, parrots, starlings he makes into poets; magpies he makes into poet-
esses and teaches them to utter, speak, sing the human language. And all
for the gut [pour la trippe]!

Eagles, gerfalcons, sakers, lanners, goshawks, sparrowhawks, merlins,
hagards, peregrines, wild and rapacious birds,' he domesticates and tames
so utterly that, leaving them in full freedom of the sky when he sees fit,
as high as he wants, as long as he likes, he keeps them suspended, roam-
ing, flying, hovering, playing up to him, paying court to him above the
clouds; then suddenly he makes them plunge from heaven to earth. And
all for the gut!

Elephants, lions, rhinoceroses, bears, horses, dogs, he causes to dance,
fling, prance, fight, swim, hide, bring him what he wants, take what he
wants. And all for the gut!

Fish (both ocean and freshwater), whales and sea monsters, he forces
out of the lowest depths; wolves he drives out of the woods; bears out of
their rocky caves; foxes out of their lairs; snakes he casts out of the
ground. And all for the gut!

In short, he is so uncontrollable in his rage that he devours them all,
beasts and people, as was seen among the Vascons, when Quintus
Metellus was besieging them during the Sertorian Wars,'" among the
Saguntines when besieged by Hannibal, among the Jews besieged by the
Romans," six hundred others. And all for the gut!

When Penia his regent starts on her rounds, in all the places she goes,
all Parlements are closed, all edicts are mute, all ordinances vain. She
knows, obeys, and has no law. All shun her, in every place, choosing
rather to expose themselves to shipwrecks at sea and venture through
fire, rocks, caves, and precipices than be seized by that most dreadful
tormenter.



CHAPTER 58


How in the court of the ingenious
master, Pantagruel detested
the Engastrimyths and the Gastrolaters.


IN the court of this great ingenious master, Pantagruel noticed two sorts
of people, importunate yesmen2 and far too officious menials, whom he
held in great abomination. One group was named Engastrimyths, the
others Gastrolaters.

On the one hand, the Engastrimyths said they were descended from
the ancient race of Eurycles, and on this point they cited the testimony
of Aristophanes, in the comedy entitled The Wasps [vss. 1017-1020].
Wherefore they were originally called Eurycleans, as Plato writes, and
Plutarch, in his book On the cessation of oracles.3 In the holy Decrees,
26 question 3, they are called ventriloquists, and this Hippocrates names
them in the Ionic language, Book 5, On epidemics, 'as speaking from the
belly. Sophocles calls them Sternomantes.5 They were diviners, magicians,
and deceivers of the simple people, seeming to speak and reply not from
the mouth but from the belly to those who questioned them.

Such was, around the year of our blessed Savior 1513, Jacoba
Rohodigina,6 an Italian woman of low degree. From whose belly we
have often heard, as have an infinite number of others, in Ferrara and
elsewhere, the voice of the unclean Spirit, certainly low, weak, and small,
nevertheless well articulated, distinct, and intelligible, when, by the curi-
osity of the rich lords and princes of Cisalpine Gaul, she was called for
and summoned. And they, to remove all suspicion of fiction or hidden
fraud, had her stripped stark naked and her mouth and nose stopped
up. This malign spirit answered to the name Crespelu [Curly], or
Cincinnatulus, and seemed to take pleasure in being so called. When he
was called so, he promptly answered what was said. If he was asked about
present or past matters, he replied pertinently even to the wonderment of
his hearers. If about future things, he always lied, never told the truth
about them. And often he seemed to confess his ignorance, instead of
answering letting a great fart, or muttering a few unintelligible words
with barbarous endings.

The Gastrolaters, on the other hand, stayed huddled together in troops
and bands, some cheery, lusty, soft, others sad, grave, severe, gloomy, all
of them idle, doing nothing, never working, a useless weight and burden
to the earth, as Hesiod says,' fearing (as far as one can judge) to offend the
belly and make it thin. For the rest, masked, disguised, and clad so
strangely that it was a lovely sight.

You say, and it is written by many wise old-time philosophers,8 that
Nature's ingenuity is shown forth wondrously in the sport she seems to
have had in fashioning seashells: such variety we see in them, so many
figures, so many colors, so many traits and forms inimitable by art. I assure
you that in the garb of these shell-clad9 Gastrolaters we saw no less variety
and disguise. They all held Gaster as their great god, worshiped him as a
god, sacrificed to him as to their omnipotent god, recognized no other
god than him, served him, loved him above all things, honored him as
their god._ You would have said it was precisely about them that the Holy
Apostle [Saint Paul] writes in Philippians 3: "There are many of whom I
have often spoken to you (I say it to you even now with tears in my eyes)
who are enemies of the cross of Christ, of whom Death will be the
consummation, of whom Belly is the god [18-19]."

Pantagruel was wont to compare them to the Cyclops Polyphemus, of
whom Euripides has spoken as follows:

"I sacrifice only to myself (not at all to the gods), and to this belly of
mine, the greatest of all the gods."10



CHAPTER 59


Of the ridiculous statue called Manduce,'
and how and what the Gastrolaters
sacrificed to their ventripotent2 god.


As, all in utter amazement, we considered the faces and actions of these
sluggard magnigulous3 Gastrolaters, we heard a noteworthy bell-ringing,
at which they all lined up as in battle array, each according to his office,
rank, and seniority.

Thus they came before Messere Gaster, following a powerful fat young
pot-belly, who bore on a long well-gilded pole a wooden statue, ill
carved and crudely painted, such as is described by Plautus,4 Juvenal,
and Pompeius Festus. In Lyon, at their carnival, they call it Crunchcrust
[Maschecroutte]. Here they called it Manduce. It was a monstrous effigy,
ridiculous, hideous, and terrifying to little children, having eyes bigger
than its belly and a head bigger than all the rest of its body, with ample,
wide horrific jaws with plenty of teeth, both upper and lower which, by
the device of a little cord hidden in the gilded pole, were made to clatter
frighteningly together, as they do at Metz with Saint Clement's dragon.

As the Gastrolaters approached, I saw that they were followed by a
great number of stout valets laden with baskets, hampers, bundles, pots,
sacks, and kettles. Thereupon, following Manduce's lead, chanting I
know not what dithyrambs, croepalocomes,' epaenons, they offered to
their god, opening their baskets and kettles:

White hippocras, with a piece of soft dry toast,
White bread,
Soft bread,8
Choice white bread,
Bourgeois bread,
Carbonados of six kinds,
Stews,
Shanks of roast veal, cold, spiced with powdered ginger,
Couscous,9
Haslets, Fricassees, nine kinds,
Small pies,
Fat prime dips,
Greyhound dips,
Lyonnaise dips,
Round cabbages with beef marrow,
Hodgepodges,
Salmagundis,

Eternal drink intermixed, first a good tasty white wine, then a cool
claret and vermilion wine," I tell you cold as ice, served and offered in
great silver cups.

Then they offered:

Chitterlings garnished with fine mustard,
Sausages,
Smoked ox tongues,
Pig's feet and lard,
Pork chines with peas,
Larded veal stewed,
Blood puddings,
Sausages,
Hams,
Boar's heads,
Salt venison with turnips,
Sliced grilled pork livers,
Marinated olives,.

All this accompanied by eternal drink. Then they would shovel into
his gullet:
Legs of mutton in garlic sauce,
Pasties in hot sauce,
Pork cutlets in onion sauce,
Roast capons with their own gravy,
Cockerels,
Goosanders,
Kids,
Fawns, fallow deer,
Hares, leverets--;
Partridges, grown and young,
Pheasants, grown and young,
Peacocks, grown and young,
Storks, grown and young,
Woodcork, snipe,
Ortolans,
Turkey cocks, hens, and chicks,
Ringdoves, small stockdoves,
Hogs in must,
Ducks in onion sauce,
Blackbirds, rail,
Coots,
Sheldrakes,
Egrets,
Teal,
Divers,
Bitterns,
Spoonbills,
Curlews,
Grouse,
Moorhens with leeks,
Fat kids, young goats,
Shoulder of mutton with capers
Cuts of beef royale,
Breasts of veal,
Boiled hens and fat capons in clear jelly,
Pied pheasants,
Chickens,
Rabbits, grown and young,
Quail, grown and young,
Pigeons, grown and young,
Herons, grown and young,
Bustards, grown and young
Sparrows,
Young guinea hens,
Plovers,
Geese, goslings,
Small stockdoves,
Pigeons,
Thrushes,
Flamingos, swans,
Spoonbills,
Wild ducks, cranes,
Sea-ducks,
Cormorants,
Curlews, great curlews,
Turtledoves,
Coneys,
Porcupines,
Water rail,

Reinfoicements of wine amid these, and then great

Pasties of venison,
Of larks,
Of wild goats,
Of roebucks,
Of pigeons,
Of chamois,
Of capons,
Pasties of bacon strips,
Pig's feet with lard,
Fricasseed pie crusts
Capon drumsticks,
Cheeses,
Corbeil peaches,
Artichokes,
Pastrypuff cakes,
Chards,
Shortbreads,
Fritters,
Tarts of sixteen kinds,
Waffles, crepes,
Quince pastries,
Curds,
Floating islands,
Candied Myrobalan plums,
Jelly,
Hippocras, red and vermilion,
Poupelins,12
Macaroons,
Tarts, twenty sorts,
Cream,
Dry and liquid preserves, seventy-eight species,
Sweetmeats, a hundred colors,
Fresh cheese in green rushes,
Wafer with fine sugar.
Wine brought up the rear, for fear of the quinsies.
Item, toasts.



CHAPTER 60


How, on the interlarded fast-days,'
the Gastrolaters sacrifice to their god.


WHEN Pantagruel saw this scurvy rabble of sacrificers and the multi-
plicity of their sacrifices, he grew angry, and would have gone back to
the ship, if Epistemon had not asked to see the outcome of this farce.

"And what," said he, "do these knaves sacrifice to their ventripotent
god on the interlarded fast-days?"

"I'll tell you," said the captain. "As appetizers, they offer him:

Caviar,
Dried mullet,
Sweet butter;
Pea soup,
Spinach,
Bloaters,
Kippered herring,
Sardines,
Anchovies,
Salt tuna,
Cabbage in oil,
Bean and onion porridge.

"A hundred varieties of salads: cress, hops, wild cress, rampion, Jess's
ears (that's a kind of fungus that grows out of old elder trees), asparagus,
chervil, so many others yet,
Salt salmon,
Salt eels,
Oysters in the shell.

"At that point it's time for a drink,_or the devil would make off with
him. They see to this, and no mistake; then they offer him:

Lampreys in hippocras sauce,
Barbels,
Barbel fry,
Mullets, grown,
Mullet fry,
Rays,
Cuttlefish,
Sturgeons,
Whales,
Mackerel,
Shad fry,
Plaice,
Fried oysters,
Scallop-shells,
Crayfish [Languoustes],
Smelts,
Gurnards,
Trout,
Lavarets,
Cod,
Octopus,
Bret-fish,
Flatfish,
Plaice [Maigres],
Sea Bream,
Gudgeon,
Turbot [Barbues],
Sprats,
Carp,
Pike,
Bonito,
Dogfish,
Sea-urchins,
Vielies,
Sea nettles,
Crespions,3_
Moray,
Swordfish,
Skate-fish,
Small lampreys,
Small pickerel [Lancerons],
Small pike or pickerel [Brochetons],
Carpions [a kind of trout],
Small carp [Carpeaux],
Salmon,
Salmon fry,
dolphins,
Sea-hogs,
Turbots,
White skatefish,
Soles,
Dover soles,
Mussels,
Lobsters,
Shrimp,
Dace,
Small bleak,
Tench,
Grayling,
Fresh cod,
Cuttlefish [Seiches],
Stickleback,
Tuna,
Gudgeon [Guoyons],
Miller's thumbs,
Crayfish [Escrevisses],
Cockles,
Sea crevices,
Suckers,
Conger
Porpoises,
Dolphins,
Bass,
Morays,
Little graylings,
Small dace,
Eels,
Little eels,
Tortoises,
Snakes, id est wood eels,
Giltheads,
Sea-hens,
Perch,
Realz [Bordelais name for sturgeons],
Loach,
Crabs,
Snails,
Frogs.

"Once these foods had been devoured, Death was waiting two paces
away, unless he had a drink. They took the steps to arrange matters [L'on
y pourvoyoit tres bien].

"Then were sacrificed to him:

Salt cod,
Stockfish.4

"Eggs fried, lost,5 stifled, steamed, dragged through the ashes, thrown
down the chimney, jumbled, calked, et cet.

Mussels,
Rock rays,
Haddock,
Marinated young pike.

"To get these properly concocted and digested many drafts of wine
were downed. To finish up they offered:

Rice,
Millet,
Oatmeal,
Almond butter,
Butter snow,6
Pistachios,
Salt pistachios,
Figs,
Grapes,
Parsnips [Escherviz],
Corn meal,
Wheat broth,
Prunes,
Dates,
Walnuts,
Nuts,
Parsnips [Pasquenades],
Artichokes,

with a continuous flow of drink.

"Believe me, it was no fault of theirs if Gaster, their god, was not
suitably, richly, and abundantly served by these sacrifices, indeed more
than the idol of Heliogabalus, more than the idol Baal in Babylon, under
the reign of Belshazzar. Nonetheless, Gaster confessed that he was no
god, but a poor, vile, puny creature. Even as King Antigonus, first of that
name, replied to a certain Hermodotus (who in his poetry called him God
and son of the Sun) by saying: "My Lasanophore' denies it" (a lasanon
was a pot and vessel made to receive the excretions of the belly), thus
Gaster sent his hypocrite flatterers to his close-stool to see, consider,
philosophize, and contemplate what divinity they found in his fecal
matter."



CHAPTER 61


How Caster invented the methods
of getting and preserving grain.


WHEN these devilish Gastrolaters had retired, Pantagruel turned his
attention to a study of Gaster, the noble master of arts. You know that,
by arrangement of Nature, bread and its appurtenances have been adjudi-
cated to him for food and maintenance, besides this added blessing from
heaven that he should lack nothing to find and keep bread.

From the beginning he invented the fabrile art1 and agriculture to
cultivate the land, so that the soil should produce grain for him. He
invented the military art and weapons to defend the grain; medicine
and astrology, with the necessary mathematics, to keep grain in safety
for several centuries and place it out of reach of the calamities of the
weather, the ravages of brute beasts, theft by brigands. He invented water
mills, windmills, mills run by a thousand other devices, to grind grain
and reduce it to flour; leaven to ferment the dough; salt to give it savor
(for he knew this, that nothing in the world made humans more subject
to maladies than using unfermented, unsalted bread); fire to cook it,
clocks and sundials to understand the time needed for making bread,
product of grain.

It happened that grain failed in one country: he invented an art and
means of bringing it from one country to another. He, by great inven-
tiveness, mingled two species of animals, ass and mare, to produce a third,
which we call mules, beasts more powerful, less delicate, more enduring
of toil than the others. He invented small wagons and carts to haul it
more conveniently. the sea or streams impeded the transport, he in-
vented boats, galleys, and ships (a thing that astonished the elements) to
navigate over the sea, over rivers and streams, and to carry and transport
grain from barbarous nations, unknown and distant.

It has happened over a few years than cultivating the land he has not
had rain when needed and in season, without which the grain in the
ground is dead and lost. In other years the rain was excessive and spoiled
the grain. In some other years the hail spoiled it, the ands crushed it,
the tempest beat it down. Already before we arrived, he had invented an art
and method of calling down rain from the heavens, just by cutting up a
plant common in the fields but known to few people, which he showed
us. And I gathered that it was the one of which a single branch, if Jove's
priest placed it in the Agrian spring2 on Mount Lycaeus in Arcadia, in
time of drought raised vapors, of the vapors were formed great clouds,
and when these were turned into rain, the whole region was watered to
suit anyone. He invented the art and means of suspending rain in the air,
and making it fall on the sea. He invented the art and method of annihi-
lating the hail, suppressing the winds, turning aside the tempest, in the
manner employed among the Methanensians of Troezenia.

Another misfortune occurred. Thieves and brigands kept stealing grain
and bread around the fields. He invented the art of building towns, for-
tresses, and castles to lock it up in and keep it safe. It happened that
sometimes not finding grain for bread in the fields, he understood that
it was locked up in towns and castles, and defended and guarded by
the inhabitants more assiduously than were the golden apples of the
Hesperides by the dragons.4

He invented an art and method of beating down and destroying for-
tresses and castles by machines and weapons of war, battering rams, stone
throwers, and catapults, of which he showed us the plan, rather ill under-
stood by the ingenious architects, disciples of Vitruvius,5 as Messer
Philibert Delorme, grand architect to the Megistos of kings, has con-
fessed to us. When these ceased to be advantageous, foiled by the malign
subtlety and subtle malignity of the fortifiers, he had recently invented
cannons, serpentines,' culverins, bombards, basilisks, shooting iron, lead,
or bronze cannonballs, weighing more than great anvils, by means of a
horrific concoction of powder at which Nature herself stood appalled and
confessed she was vanquished by art, holding in disdain the practice of
the Oxydracians,8 who by dint of thunderbolts, hailstorms, lightning
strokes, and tempests, conquered and promptly put to death their enemies
right on the battlefield. For it is more horrible, more frightful, more
diabolical, than a hundred lightning strokes; wounds, shatters, breaks, and
kills more humans; stuns their senses more; and demolishes more fortress
or city



CHAPTER 62


How Gaster invented an art and means
not to be wounded or touched by cannon shots.


IT happened that when Gaster, taking back grain to store in his for-
tresses, found himself attacked by his enemies, his fortresses demolished
by this thrice wicked [triscaciste] and infernal machine, his grain and
bread snatched away and pillaged by a titanic force,' he then invented an
art and method not only2 of protecting his ramparts, bastions, walls, and
defenses from such cannon fire, and so that bullets should either not
touch them and should remain short and still in the air, or if they touched
them should do no harm either to the defenses or to the citizen defenders.

This danger he had already found a very good device to counter, and
he gave us a demonstration of it, which Frontinus3 used later, and it is at
present in common use among the pastimes and honorable games of the
Thelemites. The demonstration was this (and from now on be readier to
believe what Plutarch assures us he has tried out): if a flock of nannygoats
was running at top speed in flight, put a sprig of eryngo in the throat of
one of the hindmost runners, and immediately they will all stop.

Inside a bronze falcon' he would place, upon the carefully compounded
cannon powder, purged of its greasy sulfur and combined with fine cam-
phor in sufficient quantity, a hollow iron ball of the right caliber hold-
ing twenty-four iron-powder pellets, some round and spherical, others
in the shape of the teardrop., after taking aim at a young page as if he
meant to hit him in The stomach, halfway in a direct line between the
page and the falcon, at a distance of sixty paces, he hung in the air on a
rope from a wooden gibbet a great big siderite, that is to say an iron
lodestone, otherwise called Herculean, found in olden times on Ida, in
the land Si- Phrygia, by a man named Magnes, as Nicander attests;' and
we commonly call it a magnet. Then he would put the flame to the
falcon through the touch-hole. When the powder was consumed, what
happened was that to avoid a vacuum (which is not tolerated in Nature;
rather would the machine of the Universe, Heaven, Air, Earth, Sea, be
reduced to the ancient Chaos, than that there should be a void in any
place in the world), the ball and pellets were violently propelled through
the throat of the falcon, so that air might penetrate into the chamber
thereof, which otherwise would have remained in vacuity, so swiftly was
the powder consumed by the fire. The ball and pellets, thus violently shot
out, seemed surely bound to hit the page; but at the point when they
came near the aforesaid stone, their impetus was lost, and they all re-
mained in the air, floating and turning around the stone, and not one of
them, however violent, got as far as the page.

But also8 he invented an art and method of making bullets turn back
upon the enemy, with the same fury and danger as they had been fired
with, and the same trajectory. He did not find the matter difficult, consid-
ering that the herb named dittany [Aethiopis] opens all the locks pre-
sented to it,9 and that remora [Echineis], such a feeble fish, in the teeth of
the tempest, stops the mightiest ships there are at sea, and that the flesh of
this fish, preserved in slat, draws gold out of wells, even any as deep as
could be sounded.

Considering that Democritus writes, Theophrastus believed and
proved, that there was an herb by whose mere touch a wedge of iron
deeply and most violently buried in some thick hard piece of wood
promptly comes out, which is used by hickwalls [les picz-mars], which
you call woodpeckefs [pivars], when by some poweful iron wedge is
stopped up the hole for their nests, which they have been wont to build
and dig out diligently inside the trunk of mighty trees.

Considering that stags and does deeply wounded by shots from darts,
arrows, or bolts, if they come upon the herb called dittany, common in
Candia, and eat a little of it, immediately the arrows come out and they
are left quite unharmed; with which Venus cured her well-beloved
son Aeneas, wounded in the right thigh by an arrow shot by Turnus's
sister Juturna.

Considering that by the mere scent emanating from laurels, fig trees,
and seals, lightning is turned aside and never strikes them.12
Considering that at the mere sight of a ram, mad elephants come back
to their senses; raging frenzied bulls, when they come near wild fig trees,13
known as caprifices, become tame and remain motionless as if cramped;14
the fury of vipers dies out at the touch of a beech branch.15

Considering also that on the island of Samos, before Juno's temple was
built there, Euphorion writes that they had seen creatures called water-
nymphs [Neades], at whose mere voice the earth would break up and
crumble into chasms and the abyss.16

Considering likewise that the elder grows more melodious and suitable
to use for flute playing in lands where cock crowing would not be heard,
as the ancient sages have written, according to Theophrastus's report, as if
cock crowing numbed, softened, and stunned the matter and wood of the
elder; at which crowing similarly heard, the lion, an animal of such great
strength and stamina, becomes completely astounded and dismayed.

I know that others have understood this saying to be about the wild
elder bush, coming from places so remote from towns and villages that
cock crowing could not be heard there. This no doubt is to be chosen
and preferred for flutes and other musical instruments over the domesti-
cated kind, which grows around dilapidated houses and mined walls.
Others have chosen a loftier interpretation of this, not according to the
letter, but allegorical, after the habit of the Pythagoreans. As, when it was
said that the statue of Mercury is not to be made indiscriminately of just
any kind of wood, they expound it to mean that God is not to be
worshiped in a common way, but in a special, religous way."

Likewise in this saying they teach us that wise and studious people
should not devote themselves to trivial and vulgar music but to the celes-
tial, divine, angelic kind, more abstruse and coming to us from a greater
distance: to wit, from a region where cock crowing is not heards. For
when we want to define some out-of-the-way place where few people
go, we say that in it cock crowing has never been heard.



CHAPTER 63


How Pantagruel took a nap near the island of Chaneph,
and of the problems proposed when he waked.'


ON the following day, busy in small talk as we pursued our route, we
arrived near the island of Chaneph, on which Pantagruel's ship could not
land, because the wind failed and there was a calm at sea. We were sailing
only by fits and starts, changing form starboard to larboard and larboard to
starboard, although they had added the drabblers' for the sail. And we
were staying there, all pensive, matagrabolized, distempered, and in the
dumps, not saying a word to one another.'

Pantagruel, holding in his hand a Greek Heliodorus,4 on a galley's
hammock at the end of the trapdoors to the hold, was taking a nap. Such
was his custom, that he slept much better by the book than by heart.'

Epistemon was looking to see by his astrolabe the elevation of the pole
to us.

Frere Jean had betaken himself to the kitchen, and in the ascendant of
the spits and horoscope of the fricassees was considering what time it
might be then.

Panurge, through a tube of Pantagruelion, was blowing bubbles with
his tongue.

Gymnaste was sharpening toothpicks of mastic.

Ponocrates, dreaming, was dreaming,6 tickling himself to make himself
laugh, and scratching his head with one finger.

Carpalim, out of a shell from a crow-ridden walnut tree, was making a
pretty, merry little windmill out of four little strips of board of alder.

Eusthenes was playing on a long culverin with his fingers as if it had
been a kind of fiddle.

Rhizotome was making a velvet purse out of the shell of a heath
tortoise [a mole].

Xenomanes was repairing an old lantern with merlin jesses.

Our captain was pulling worms out of his sailors' noses,' when Frere
Jean, coming back from the galley, noticed that Pantagruel had awak-
ened. And so, breaking that obstinate silence, in the highest good spirits
he asked in a loud voice:

"What's a way to raise a breeze during a calm?"

Panurge promptly followed suit, likewise asking: "A remedy for feeling
low?"

Epistemon chimed in third, asking cheerily: "A way to urinate when a
person doesn't feel the urge to?"

Gymnaste asked, rising to his feet: "A remedy against dazzling of the
eyes?"

Ponocrates, after rubbing his forehead a bit and shaking his ears, asked:
"A way not to sleep like a dog?"

"Wait!" said Pantagruel. "By decree of the subtle Peripatetic philoso-
phers we are taught that all problems, all questions, all doubts proposed,
must be certain, clear, and intelligible. How do you mean: to sleep like
a dog?"

"That means," replied Ponocrates, "to sleep on an empty stomach right
in the bright sunlight, as dogs do."

Rhizotome was squatting on the coursey. Then, raising his head and
yawning deeply, so much so that by natural sympathy he started all his
companions yawning likewise, he asked: "A remedy against oscutation
and yawning?"

Xenomanes, as if all screwed up in fixing his lantern,m asked: "A way to
equilibrate and balance the bulge of your stomach so that it doesn't lean
to one side any more than to the other?"

Carpalim, playing with his little mill, asked: "How many operations are
there in nature that come up before a person is said to be hungry?"

Eusthenes, hearing the sound of voices, came running on deck and
called out from the capstan to ask: "Why is a fasting man bitten by a
fasting snake in greater danger than after either man or snake has eaten
or both have eaten?" Why is the saliva of a fasting man venomous to all
snakes and venomous animals?" 12

"Friends," said Pantagruel, "for all the doubts and questions you pro-
pose one single solution is fitting, and one single medicine for all such
symptoms and accidents. The answer shall be promptly exposed to you,
not by long circumlocutions and wordy speeches. A famished stomach has
no ears. It doesn't hear a thing. By signs, deeds, and results, you
shall be satisfied and have a solution to content you. As, long ago in
Rome, Tarquin the haughty, last king of the Romans (so saying, Pantagruel
pulled the cord of the dinner-bell, Frere Jean immediately went running
to the kitchen), replied with a sign to his son Sextus Tarquinius, then
in the city of the Gabini," who had sent him a man expressly to find out
how he could completely subjugate the Gabini and reduce them to perfect
obedience; the aforesaid king, mistrustful of the messenger's fidelity,
took him into his private garden, and in his sight and presence, with
his cutlass, cut off the highest heads of the poppies that were there.
When the messenger went back with no answer and told the son what he had
seen his father do, it was easy to understand that by such signs he was
advising him to cut off the heads of the foremost men in the city, the
better to hold down the rest of the common people in their duty and
total obedience."



CHAPTER 64


How no answer was given by Pantagruel
to the problems proposed.


THEN Pantagruel asked: "what people live in this lovely dog of an
island?"'

"All," replied Xenomanes, "are hypocrites, dropsicals, paternosterers,2
catamites, sanctorum-mumblers [santorons], bigots, hermits.' All poor
people, living (like the hermit of Lormont, between Blaye and Bordeaux)
off the alms that travelers give them."

"I'm not going there," said Panurge,' "I swear to you; if I go there, may
the devil blow in my ass!" Hermit, sanetorum-mumblers, catamites, big-
ots, hypocrites, by all the devils, get out of here! I still remember our fat
concilipete from Chesil:' would that Beelzebub and Astaroth4 had recon-
ciled them with Proserpina, such terrible tempests and deviltries we suf-
fered from seeing them! Listen, my little potbelly, my squad leader
Xenomanes, please: are these hypocrites, hermits, impostors, virgins or
married? Are there any of the feminine sex? Might one hypocritically get
a little hypocritical sport with one of them?"

"Really," said Pantagruel, "that's a fine joyous question for you!"

"Yes indeed," replied Xenomanes. "There are lovely merry hypo-
critesses, catamitesses, hermitesses, women of great piety, and, there is a
profusion of little hypocritkins, catamitekins, hermitkins..."

"Take it away [Oustez cela]!" Frere Jean interrupted. "From a young
hermit, an old devil. Note this authentic proverb:5 otherwise, without a
multiplication of the line, the island of Chaneph would long ago have
been abandoned and desolate."

Pantagruel sent him his alms via Gymnaste in the skiff: seventy-eight
thousand nice little lantern half-crowns; then he asked: "What time is it?"
"Nine o'clock and after," replied Epistemon.

"That," said Pantagruel, "is the right time for dinner. For the sacred
line is approaching so celebrated by Aristopharies, in his comedy entitled
The Ecclesiazousae," which falls when the shadow is on the tenth point of
the dial. In olden times among the Persian the time for having something
to eat was prescribed for kings alone; all the others had their appetite and
their belly for their clock. Indeed in Plautus a certain parasite complains,
and furiously detests the inventors of clocks and sundials, it being a well-
known fact that there is no clock more accurate than the belly.' Diogenes,
asked at what time a man should eat, answered: 'The rich man, when he's
hungry; the poor man, when he has the wherewithal.' The doctors say
more aptly that the canonical hours are:

Five to rise, nine to dine.
Five to sup, bed at nine.al

"The magic of the celebrated King Petosiris was different."

This statement was not completed when the officers of the gullet
[officiers de gueule] set up the tables and sideboards; covered them with
fragrant tablecloths, plates, napkins, salt cellars; brought tankards, earthen-
ware jugs, flagons, cups, goblets, basins, water jugs. Frere Jean, accompa-
nied by the stewards, butlers, loaf-bearers, cupbearers, food-tasters,
brought on four horrific ham pies, so big they reminded me of the bas-
tions of Turin. My Lord, how they drank and had a ball! They didn't yet
have their clessLert when the west-norhwest wind began to fill their sails,
mainsail, mizzen foresail, top-gallants. Wherefore they all sang various
canticles of praise of the most high God in the heavens.

At the fruit course, Pantagruel asked: "Consider, friends, whether your
doubts are fully resolved."

"I'm not yawning any more, thank god," said Rhizotome.

"I'm not sleeping like a dog any more," said Ponocrates.

"I'm not dazzled any more," replied Gymnaste.

"I'm not fasting any more," said Eusthenes. "For this whole day shall be
safe from my saliva:

Asps, 9
Amphisbenas,
Anerudutes,
Abedissimons,
Alhartafz [sea dragons],
Ammobates [snakes walking on sand],
Apimaos,
Alhatrabans [Arabian dragons],
Aractes [Arabian serpents with black and white spots],
Asterions [a kind of arachnids],
Alcharates [vipers: Avicenna],
Arges [white snakes: Hippocrates]
Spiders,
Ascalabes [lizards: Nicander],
Attelabes [crickets or weevils: Aristotle],
Ascalabotes [or ascalabes, lizards: Aristotle],
Aemorrhoides [perhaps horned vipers],
Basilisks [legendary serpents whose glance was fatal],
Ferrets,
Boas,
Buprestids,
Cantharides,
Caterpillars,
Crocodiles,
Toads,
Catoblepes [gnus, whose glance was also considered fatal],
Cerastes [horned Vipers],
Cauquemares,
Mad-dogs,
Colotes [lizards: Aristotle],
Cychriodes,
Cafezates [Arabian serpents],
Cauhares [sand-colored snakes]
Vipers,
Cuharsces [or caunares, sand colored snakes]
Chelydri [amphibious snakes: Nicander et al],
Chroniocalaptes [tarantulas?],
Chersydri [Pliny, Lucan et al],
Cenchryni [a kind of spotted snake],
Cockatrices [black vipers],
Dipsades [black vipers: Nicander, Lucan],
Domeses [unknown snakes],
Dryinades [tree-dwelling snakes: Nicander]
Dragons,
Elopes [mutes, of fish: Nicander],
Enhydrides [water moccasins],
Fanuises [Arabic fanjunuis, an unidentified snake],
Galeotes [a kind of lizard],
Harmenes [dragons?: Arabic],
Handons [sea dragons],
Icles [iaculi, nonvenimous snakes: Pliny],
Jarranes [Brazilian snakes],
Ilicines [snakes that sleep under yews: Avicenna],
Ichneumons
Kesudures [Chersydri, as above, sea-hares],
Chalcidic lizards,
Myopes [short-sighted snakes: Nicander],
Manticores,
Molures [molouroi: snakes: Nicander],
Myagres [rat-chasers: Nicander, shrew-mice],
Miliares [Cenchryni, as above: Avicenna],
Megalaunes [probably melanouroi, black-tails, a fish: Aelian],
Ptyades [spitting asps],
Porphyres [deadly purple Indian snakes],
Pareades [harmless asps: Aesculapius],
Phalanges [a kind of arachnid: Nicander],
Penphredones [a kind of wasp: Nicander],
Pityocampes [a kind of caterpillar],
Rutulas [venomous spiders],
Rimoires [snakes: Albertus Magnus],
Rhagions [arachnids?: Pliny],
Rhaganes [rhagins, above], 1,
Salamanders,
Scytalae [cylindrical snakes: Lucan],
Stellions [lizards with spots like stars],
Scorpenes [dogfish],
Scorpions,
Selsirs [stripped multicolored snakes: Avicenna],
Scalavotins [see ascalabes, above],
Solofuidars [salfuges, snakes poisoned by salt],
Sourds [salamanders, bloodsuckers],
Salfuges [see solofuidars, above],
Solifuges [see solofuidars, salfuges, above],
Sepes [chalcidic lizards: Aelian, Lucan, Pliny],
Stinces [Pliny's scincus, a small Egyptian Saurian: Delaunay],
Stuphes [an unknown snake: Delaunay],
Sabtins [Haemorrhois, a snake: Delaunay],
Sepedons [serpents whose bite causes putrefaction: Nicander],
Scolopendres [sea-monsters: Rondelet],
Tarantulas,
Typholopes [blind snakes: Aelian, Nicander],
Tetragnaties [venomous spiders],
Teristales [cerastes, horned vipers],
Vipers."



CHAPTER 65


How Pantagruel enjoys his time
with his household.'


"IN which category of such venomous beasts," asked Frere Jean,
would you place Panurge's future wife?"

"Are you speaking ill of women?" retorted Panurge, "you skirt-chaser,
you bald-assed monk?"2

"By the cenomanic stuffing [la guogue Cenomanique]," said Epistemon,
"Euripides writes, and Andromache is his mouthpiece,3 that a helpful
remedy has been found against all venomous beasts by human ingenuity
and teaching of the gods. Up to now no remedy has been found against
a mean woman:"

"That show-off Euripides," said Panurge, "always spoke ill of women.
And so by divine vengeance he was eaten by dogs, as Aristophanes taunts
him with being.' Let's move on. Let him speak that has it."

"I'll urinate shortly," said Epistemon, "all anyone could want."

"Now," said Xenomanes, "my stomach is ballasted to a T. It will never
lean to one side more than to the other."

"I don't need," said Carpalim, "either wine or bread. A truce on thirst.
A truce on hunger."

"I'm not feeling low any more," said Panurge, "thanks to God and you.
I'm cheery as a parrot,' joyous as a merlin, lighthearted as a butterfly.
Truly it is written by your fine Euripides, and that memorable toper
Silenus says it:

Out of his senses is that man, and mad,
Who even when he drinks is not made glad.8

"Without fail we must highly praise the good God, our Creator, Sav-
ior, Preserver, Who by this good bread, this good cool wine, by these
good foods, cures us of such perturbations, both of body and of soul,
besides the voluptuous pleasure we have in eating and drinking, But
you're not answering the question of this blessed venerable Frerelean,
when he asked for a way to raise a breeze?"

"Since," said Pantagruel, "you are content with this easy solution of the
doubts proposed, so am I. Elsewhere and at another time we'll have more
to say about them, if you see fit. So it remains to clear up what Frere Jean
has po osed: a way to raise a breeze.9 Haven't we raised it all one could
wish? Look at the weathervane on the scuttle. See the whistling of the
sails. See how taut are the stays, the ties, and the sheets. While we were
raising and emptying our cups, the weather likewise rose by occult
sympathy of nature. Thus Atlas and Hercules raised it," if you believe the
wise mythologizers. But they raised it half a degree too high: Atlas, to
feast his guest Hercules the more cheerily; Hercules, because of the thirsts
brought on by going through the deserts of Libya..."

"Gosh!" said Frere Jean, interrupting his statement, "I've heard from
several venerable scholars that Tirelupin [Rascal], your good father's
cellarman, each year saves more than eighteen hundred pipes of wine
by having the domestics and unexpected visitors drink before they're
thirsty."

"...For," Pantagruel went on, "as the camels and dromedaries of the car-
avan drink for the thirst past, for the thirst present and for the thirst
to come, so did Hercules. So that by this excessive raising of the weather
there came about in heaven a new movement of staggering and shuddering
so controversial and debated among the crazy astrologers."

"That," said Panurge, "is what they say in the common proverb:

Bad weather leaves, replacer by fine,
While 'round fat ham we drink our wine."12

"And not only," said Pantagniel, "by 'eating and drinking have we
raised the weather, but also greatly unburdened the ship, not only in the
way Aesop's basket was unloaded--to wit, by emptying the victuals--but
also by freeing ourselves from our fast:13 For as the body is heavier dead
than alive, so is a fasting man more earthbound and heavy than when he
has eaten and drunk. And those people do not speak improperly who on
a long trip drink an breakfast in the morning, and say: "Our horses will
go only the better for it." Don't you know that in olden times the noble
Amycleans worshiped noble father Bacchus above all gods and called him
Psila in an apt and appropriate denomination? Psila, in the Doric lan-
guage, means "wings." For as birds with the help of their wings fly lightly
high in the air, by the aid of Bacchus (that's the good tasty delicious wine)
are the spirits of humans raised high, their bodies evidently lightened, and
what was terrestrial in them is made supple."



CHAPTER 66


How, near the island of Ganabin,
at Pantagruel's commandment
the muses were saluted.'


As the good wind and these cheery remarks continued, Pantagruel
scanned afar and sighted a certain mountainous land, which he pointed
out to Xenomanes and asked him:

"Do you see up ahead there to port a high crag with two humps that
looks a.lot like Mount Parnassus in Phocis?"

"Very clearly," said Xenomanes. "That's the island of Ganabin. Do you
want to go ashore there?"

"No," said Pantagruel.

"You're quite right," said Xenomanes: "there's nothing there worth
seeing: the people are all thieves and robbers. There, however, toward
that righthand hump, is the loveliest fountain in the world, and around
it a very large forest. Your crews can take on water and wood there."

"Spoken," said Panurge, "like a gentleman and a scholar! Heydoho!
Let's never go ashore in a land of thieves and robbers. I assure you that
this land here is such as in other times I've seen the islands of Sark and
Herm to be, between Brittany and England, such as was the Poneropolis
of Philip in Thrace, lands of rogues, robbers, brigands, murderers, and
assassins, all scraped up out of the deepest dungeons of the Conciergerie:
Let's not go there by any means, I beg you! Believe, if not me, then at
least the advice of this good wise Xenomanes. By the death of wood
[mort boeuf de boys], they're worse than the Cannibals. They'd eat us all
alive. Don't go ashore there, for mercy's sake. You'd do better to go
down into Avernus.2 Listen! There I hear, by God, the horrific tocsin,
such as some time ago the Gascons in the Bordelais3 used to ring it against
the salt-tax collectors and the king's commissioners. Or else I'm hearing
things. Let's get out of here, hey! Let's pass on!"4

"Go ashore there," said Frere Jean, "go ashore there. Let's go, let's go,
come on, let's go! This way we'll never have to pay for our lodging. Let's
go! We'll sack them one and all. Let's go ashore!"

"Let the devil take his share in it!" said Panurge. "This devil of a monk
here, this monk of a crazy devil has no fear of anything. He's venture-
some as all the devils, and doesn't care a rap about other people. He
thinks everybody is a monk like him."

"Go away," replied Frere Jean,"you green leper, to all the millions of
devils, and may they dissect your brain and make mincemeat of it. This
devil of a lunatic is such a lousy coward that he shits in his pants again
and again in a sheer frenzy of panic fear. If you're so paralyzed with
vain fear, don't go ashore, stay right here with the baggage. Or else go
hide under Proserpina's petticoat, right through all the millions of de-
vils."

At these words Panurge vanished from the company and went and hid
down below, amid the crusts, crumbs, and odd bits, of bread. "I feel in my
soul," said Pantagruel, "an urgent pull backward, as if it were a voice
heard from afar, which tells me that we should not go ashore. Each and
every time I have felt such an impulsion in my mind, I have found myself
well off in refusing and leaving the curse from which it was pulling me
back; conversely, I have found myself equally well off on following the
course to which it was impelling me; and never have I repented of it."

"That," said Epistemon, "is just like the daemon of Socrates, so cel-
ebrated among the Academics."

"Then listen," said Frere Jean; "while the crews are taking on water,
Panurge is down there making like a wolf in the straw. Do you want to
have a good laugh? Have the fire set to this basilisk you see near the
forecastle. That will be to salute the Muses of this Mount Antiparnassus.5
Anyway, the powder in it is getting spoiled."

"That's well said," replied Pantagruel. "Have the master gunner come
here to me."

The gunner promptly appeared. Pantagruel ordered him to put the fire
to the basilisk, and in any case reload it with fresh powder, which was
done instantly. The gunners of the other ships, frigates, galleons, and
galleasses of the convoy, at the first discharge of the basilisk in Pantagruel's
ship, likewise each put the fire to one of their loaded big pieces. Believe
me, it was a lovely racket.



CHAPTER 67


How Panurge beshat himself in panic fear
and thought the great cat Rodilardus'
was a devilkin.2


PANURGE, like a dumbstruck goat [comme un boucq estourdy], burst
out of the storeroom in just his shirt with just one stocking on one leg,
his beard all specked with breadcrumbs, holding in his hand a big cat,
which was holding on to the other stocking. And, wagging his jowls like
a monkey hunting for fleas on his head, trembling, his teeth chattering, he
rushed toward Frere Jean, who was sitting on the starboard chain-wale,
and devoutly begged him to have compassion on him, and keep him in
safeguard with his cutlass, affirming and sigearing by his share of
Papimania that he had seen all the devils freed of their chains.

"Looky here, me fren [Agua, men emy]," said he, "me brother, me
spiritual father, today all the devils are out to a wedding! You've never
seen such preparations for an infernal banquet! Do you see the smoke
from the kitchens of hell? (This he said pointing to the gunpowder smoke
over all the ships.) You've never seen so many damned souls. And do you
know what? Looky here, me fren! They're so blond, so delicate that
you'd say they were Stygian ambrosia!' I supposed (God forgive me!) that
they were English souls and thought that this morning the Isle of Horses,"
near Scotland, must have been sacked and put to the sword by the Lords
of Therme and Hesse with the English who had seized it by surprise."

Frere Jean on approaching him smelled I know not what odor other
than that of cannon powder. He pulled Panurge out into the open and
perceived that his smock was all crapped on and newly beshitten. The
retentive power of the nerve that controls the muscle called sphincter
(that's the asshole) was dissolved by the violence of the fear he had had in
his fantasy visions, besides the thunder of the cannonades, which is more
horrific in the lower quarters than it is on deck. For one of the symptoms
and accidents of fear is that by it is ordinarily opened the wicket of the
seraglion in which for a time the fecal matter is contained."

An example is that of Messere Pandolfo de la Cassina of Siena, who,
passing through Camber), and stopping at the inn of that good husband-
man Vinet,I took a pitchfork from the stable, then said to him: "Da
Roma in qu'IN io non son andato del corpo. Di gratia, piglia in mano
questa forcha, et fa mi paura."6 Vinet got busy making passes with the
fork, always making as if he really meant to hit him. The Sienese said to
him: "Se tu non fai altramente, tu non fai nulla. Pero sforzati di adoper-
arli pia guagliardamente."7 Thereupon Vinet gave him such a great clout
with the fork between his neck and his collar that he threw him on the
ground head over heels. Then, frothing at the mouth and laughing his
head off, he said to him: "Feast o'God Bayard!"8 That's what you call
"Given at Chambery [Datum Camberiaci]." Just in time the Siennese had
taken down his breeches, for suddenly he dunged more copiously than
nine buffaloes would have done and fourteen archpriests of the Host.
Finally the Sienese graciously thanked Vinet and said to him: "Io ti
ringratio, bel messere. Cosi facendo tu m'hai esparmiata la speza d'un
servitiale."9

Another example is that of King Edward the Fifth of England. Master
Francois Villon, banished from France, had been received at his court.
He had taken him into such great intimacy that he concealed from him
nothing of even the petty affairs of his house. One day the said king,
going to do his business,'° pointed out to Villon a painting of the coat
of arms of France and said to him: "Do you see what reverence I bear your
French kings? I have their coat of arms nowhere but in this privy, near
my close-stool."

"Holy God!" retorted Villon, "how wise prudent, informed and care-
ful about your health you are, and how well you are served by your
learned doctor, Thomas Linacer! He, .seeing that naturally, in your later
years; you were constipated in the belly and obliged to stick an apoth-
ecary at your tail, I mean an enema, otherwise you wouldn't have crapped,
got you to have painted appropriately here, not elsewhere, the arms of
France, by a singular and potent foresight. For just at the sight of
them you have such a horrific fizzling fear that you promptly crap like
eighteen Paeonian aurochs. If they were painted anywhere else in your
house, in your main hall, in your galleries, or elsewhere, Holy God!
You'd shit all over the place the moment you'd seen them. And I believe
that if you also had there a picture of the great oriflamme of France,
at the sight thereof you'd void the bowels of your belly right through
your fundament." But harrumph atque iterum [and once again] hrrmph!

A Paris rubberneck am I,
Paris close by Pontoise, I say.
A rope shall teach my neck some day
Exactly what my ass shall weigh.12

"A rubberneck, I say, ill-advised, inexpert, ununderstanding, when,
coming from here with you, I wondered that you had your breeches
taken down in your bedroom. Verily I thought that herein, behind the
tapestry or in the alcove beside your bed, was your close-stool. Otherwise
the case seemed to me most incongruous, thus to get undressed in your
bedroom in order to go to the family seat [au retraict lignagier]. Isn't that
a real rubberneck's idea? The case is caused by quite another mystery, in
God's name! In so doing you do well, so well, I say, that you could do no
bettter. Have your breeches taken down all the way, far off, in plenty of
time. For if you came here with breeches not taken down, on seeing all
those scutcheons, Good Lord! All, I mean all [notez bien tout, sacre
Dieu]! the bottom of your breeches would fulfill the function of a
lazanon, commode, chamber pot, or close-stool."

Frere Jean, holding his nose tight shut with his left hand, with the index
finger of his right pointed out to Pantagruel Panurge's smock. Pantagruel,
seeing him thus upset, numbed speechless, beshitten, and scratched by the
claws of the famous cat Rodilardus, could not keep from laughing, and
said to him:

"What do you mean to do with the cat?"

"With this cat?" replied Panurge. "Devil take me if I didn't think it was
a devilkin with fur, which I nabbed a while ago on the sly, using my hose
for good mittens, inside the great hutch of hell. Devil take the devil! He's
shredded my skin here like a crayfish's beard."

So saying, he threw down his cat.

"Go along," said Pantagruel, "go along, in God's name, and take a
bath, clean up, get hold of yourself, put on a clean white shirt and get
dressed again!"

"Are you saying," said Panurge, "that I'm afraid? Not a bit of it, by the
power of God! I'm more courageous than if I'd swallowed as many flies as
are put into pies from Midsummer Day [de Sainct Jean] to All Saints'
Day.13 Ha ha ha! Whay! What the devil is this stuff? Do you call this turds,
crap, droppings, shit, stool, elimination, fecal matter, excrement, fumets,
leavings, scybale or spyrathe?" It is, I do believe, Hibernian saffron.15 Ho,
ho, hee! It's Hibernian saffron! Sela!16 Let's drink up!"


End of the Fourth Book of the Heroic Deeds
And Sayings of the Noble Pantagruel