Good people, God save and keep you!  Where are you?  I can't see you:
stay--I'll saddle my nose with spectacles--oh, oh! 'twill be fair anon:  I
see you.  Well, you have had a good vintage, they say:  this is no bad news
to Frank, you may swear.  You have got an infallible cure against thirst:
rarely performed of you, my friends!  You, your wives, children, friends,
and families are in as good case as hearts can wish; it is well, it is as I
would have it:  God be praised for it, and if such be his will, may you
long be so.  For my part, I am thereabouts, thanks to his blessed goodness;
and by the means of a little Pantagruelism (which you know is a certain
jollity of mind, pickled in the scorn of fortune), you see me now hale and
cheery, as sound as a bell, and ready to drink, if you will.  Would you
know why I'm thus, good people?  I will even give you a positive answer
--Such is the Lord's will, which I obey and revere; it being said in his
word, in great derision to the physician neglectful of his own health,
Physician, heal thyself.

Galen had some knowledge of the Bible, and had conversed with the
Christians of his time, as appears lib. 11. De Usu Partium; lib. 2. De
Differentiis Pulsuum, cap. 3, and ibid. lib. 3. cap. 2. and lib. De Rerum
Affectibus (if it be Galen's).  Yet 'twas not for any such veneration of
holy writ that he took care of his own health.  No, it was for fear of
being twitted with the saying so well known among physicians:

  Iatros allon autos elkesi bruon.

  He boasts of healing poor and rich,
  Yet is himself all over itch.

This made him boldly say, that he did not desire to be esteemed a
physician, if from his twenty-eighth year to his old age he had not lived
in perfect health, except some ephemerous fevers, of which he soon rid
himself; yet he was not naturally of the soundest temper, his stomach being
evidently bad.  Indeed, as he saith, lib. 5, De Sanitate tuenda, that
physician will hardly be thought very careful of the health of others who
neglects his own.  Asclepiades boasted yet more than this; for he said that
he had articled with fortune not to be reputed a physician if he could be
said to have been sick since he began to practise physic to his latter age,
which he reached, lusty in all his members and victorious over fortune;
till at last the old gentleman unluckily tumbled down from the top of a
certain ill-propped and rotten staircase, and so there was an end of him.

If by some disaster health is fled from your worships to the right or to
the left, above or below, before or behind, within or without, far or near,
on this side or the other side, wheresoever it be, may you presently, with
the help of the Lord, meet with it.  Having found it, may you immediately
claim it, seize it, and secure it.  The law allows it; the king would have
it so; nay, you have my advice for it.  Neither more nor less than the
law-makers of old did fully empower a master to claim and seize his runaway
servant wherever he might be found.  Odds-bodikins, is it not written and
warranted by the ancient customs of this noble, so rich, so flourishing
realm of France, that the dead seizes the quick?  See what has been
declared very lately in that point by that learned, wise, courteous, humane
and just civilian, Andrew Tiraqueau, one of the judges in the most
honourable court of Parliament at Paris.  Health is our life, as Ariphron
the Sicyonian wisely has it; without health life is not life, it is not
living life: abios bios, bios abiotos.  Without health life is only a
languishment and an image of death.  Therefore, you that want your health,
that is to say, that are dead, seize the quick; secure life to yourselves,
that is to say, health.

I have this hope in the Lord, that he will hear our supplications,
considering with what faith and zeal we pray, and that he will grant this
our wish because it is moderate and mean.  Mediocrity was held by the
ancient sages to be golden, that is to say, precious, praised by all men,
and pleasing in all places.  Read the sacred Bible, you will find the
prayers of those who asked moderately were never unanswered.  For example,
little dapper Zaccheus, whose body and relics the monks of St. Garlick,
near Orleans, boast of having, and nickname him St. Sylvanus; he only
wished to see our blessed Saviour near Jerusalem.  It was but a small
request, and no more than anybody then might pretend to.  But alas! he was
but low-built; and one of so diminutive a size, among the crowd, could not
so much as get a glimpse of him.  Well then he struts, stands on tiptoes,
bustles, and bestirs his stumps, shoves and makes way, and with much ado
clambers up a sycamore.  Upon this, the Lord, who knew his sincere
affection, presented himself to his sight, and was not only seen by him,
but heard also; nay, what is more, he came to his house and blessed his
family.

One of the sons of the prophets in Israel felling would near the river
Jordan, his hatchet forsook the helve and fell to the bottom of the river;
so he prayed to have it again ('twas but a small request, mark ye me), and
having a strong faith, he did not throw the hatchet after the helve, as
some spirits of contradiction say by way of scandalous blunder, but the
helve after the hatchet, as you all properly have it.  Presently two great
miracles were seen:  up springs the hatchet from the bottom of the water,
and fixes itself to its old acquaintance the helve.  Now had he wished to
coach it to heaven in a fiery chariot like Elias, to multiply in seed like
Abraham, be as rich as Job, strong as Samson, and beautiful as Absalom,
would he have obtained it, d'ye think?  I' troth, my friends, I question it
very much.

Now I talk of moderate wishes in point of hatchet (but harkee me, be sure
you don't forget when we ought to drink), I will tell you what is written
among the apologues of wise Aesop the Frenchman.  I mean the Phrygian and
Trojan, as Max. Planudes makes him; from which people, according to the
most faithful chroniclers, the noble French are descended.  Aelian writes
that he was of Thrace and Agathias, after Herodotus, that he was of Samos;
'tis all one to Frank.

In his time lived a poor honest country fellow of Gravot, Tom Wellhung by
name, a wood-cleaver by trade, who in that low drudgery made shift so to
pick up a sorry livelihood.  It happened that he lost his hatchet.  Now
tell me who ever had more cause to be vexed than poor Tom?  Alas, his whole
estate and life depended on his hatchet; by his hatchet he earned many a
fair penny of the best woodmongers or log-merchants among whom he went
a-jobbing; for want of his hatchet he was like to starve; and had death but
met with him six days after without a hatchet, the grim fiend would have
mowed him down in the twinkling of a bedstaff.  In this sad case he began
to be in a heavy taking, and called upon Jupiter with the most eloquent
prayers--for you know necessity was the mother of eloquence.  With the
whites of his eyes turned up towards heaven, down on his marrow-bones, his
arms reared high, his fingers stretched wide, and his head bare, the poor
wretch without ceasing was roaring out, by way of litany, at every
repetition of his supplications, My hatchet, Lord Jupiter, my hatchet! my
hatchet! only my hatchet, O Jupiter, or money to buy another, and nothing
else! alas, my poor hatchet!

Jupiter happened then to be holding a grand council about certain urgent
affairs, and old gammer Cybele was just giving her opinion, or, if you
would rather have it so, it was young Phoebus the beau; but, in short,
Tom's outcries and lamentations were so loud that they were heard with no
small amazement at the council-board, by the whole consistory of the gods.
What a devil have we below, quoth Jupiter, that howls so horridly?  By the
mud of Styx, have not we had all along, and have not we here still enough
to do, to set to rights a world of damned puzzling businesses of
consequence?  We made an end of the fray between Presthan, King of Persia,
and Soliman the Turkish emperor, we have stopped up the passages between
the Tartars and the Muscovites; answered the Xeriff's petition; done the
same to that of Golgots Rays; the state of Parma's despatched; so is that
of Maidenburg, that of Mirandola, and that of Africa, that town on the
Mediterranean which we call Aphrodisium; Tripoli by carelessness has got a
new master; her hour was come.

Here are the Gascons cursing and damning, demanding the restitution of
their bells.

In yonder corner are the Saxons, Easterlings, Ostrogoths, and Germans,
nations formerly invincible, but now aberkeids, bridled, curbed, and
brought under a paltry diminutive crippled fellow; they ask us revenge,
relief, restitution of their former good sense and ancient liberty.

But what shall we do with this same Ramus and this Galland, with a pox to
them, who, surrounded with a swarm of their scullions, blackguard
ragamuffins, sizars, vouchers, and stipulators, set together by the ears
the whole university of Paris?  I am in a sad quandary about it, and for
the heart's blood of me cannot tell yet with whom of the two to side.

Both seem to me notable fellows, and as true cods as ever pissed.  The one
has rose-nobles, I say fine and weighty ones; the other would gladly have
some too.  The one knows something; the other's no dunce.  The one loves
the better sort of men; the other's beloved by 'em.  The one is an old
cunning fox; the other with tongue and pen, tooth and nail, falls foul on
the ancient orators and philosophers, and barks at them like a cur.

What thinkest thou of it, say, thou bawdy Priapus?  I have found thy
counsel just before now, et habet tua mentula mentem.

King Jupiter, answered Priapus, standing up and taking off his cowl, his
snout uncased and reared up, fiery and stiffly propped, since you compare
the one to a yelping snarling cur and the other to sly Reynard the fox, my
advice is, with submission, that without fretting or puzzling your brains
any further about 'em, without any more ado, even serve 'em both as, in the
days of yore, you did the dog and the fox.  How? asked Jupiter; when? who
were they? where was it?  You have a rare memory, for aught I see! returned
Priapus.  This right worshipful father Bacchus, whom we have here nodding
with his crimson phiz, to be revenged on the Thebans had got a fairy fox,
who, whatever mischief he did, was never to be caught or wronged by any
beast that wore a head.

The noble Vulcan here present had framed a dog of Monesian brass, and with
long puffing and blowing put the spirit of life into him; he gave it to
you, you gave it your Miss Europa, Miss Europa gave it Minos, Minos gave it
Procris, Procris gave it Cephalus.  He was also of the fairy kind; so that,
like the lawyers of our age, he was too hard for all other sorts of
creatures; nothing could scape the dog.  Now who should happen to meet but
these two?  What do you think they did?  Dog by his destiny was to take
fox, and fox by his fate was not to be taken.

The case was brought before your council:  you protested that you would not
act against the fates; and the fates were contradictory.  In short, the end
and result of the matter was, that to reconcile two contradictions was an
impossibility in nature.  The very pang put you into a sweat; some drops of
which happening to light on the earth, produced what the mortals call
cauliflowers.  All our noble consistory, for want of a categorical
resolution, were seized with such a horrid thirst, that above seventy-eight
hogsheads of nectar were swilled down at that sitting.  At last you took my
advice, and transmogrified them into stones; and immediately got rid of
your perplexity, and a truce with thirst was proclaimed through this vast
Olympus.  This was the year of flabby cods, near Teumessus, between Thebes
and Chalcis.

After this manner, it is my opinion that you should petrify this dog and
this fox.  The metamorphosis will not be incongruous; for they both bear
the name of Peter.  And because, according to the Limosin proverb, to make
an oven's mouth there must be three stones, you may associate them with
Master Peter du Coignet, whom you formerly petrified for the same cause.
Then those three dead pieces shall be put in an equilateral trigone
somewhere in the great temple at Paris--in the middle of the porch, if you
will--there to perform the office of extinguishers, and with their noses
put out the lighted candles, torches, tapers, and flambeaux; since, while
they lived, they still lighted, ballock-like, the fire of faction,
division, ballock sects, and wrangling among those idle bearded boys, the
students.  And this will be an everlasting monument to show that those puny
self-conceited pedants, ballock-framers, were rather contemned than
condemned by you.  Dixi, I have said my say.

You deal too kindly by them, said Jupiter, for aught I see, Monsieur
Priapus.  You do not use to be so kind to everybody, let me tell you; for
as they seek to eternize their names, it would be much better for them to
be thus changed into hard stones than to return to earth and putrefaction.
But now to other matters.  Yonder behind us, towards the Tuscan sea and the
neighbourhood of Mount Apennine, do you see what tragedies are stirred up
by certain topping ecclesiastical bullies?  This hot fit will last its
time, like the Limosins' ovens, and then will be cooled, but not so fast.

We shall have sport enough with it; but I foresee one inconveniency; for
methinks we have but little store of thunder ammunition since the time that
you, my fellow gods, for your pastime lavished them away to bombard new
Antioch, by my particular permission; as since, after your example, the
stout champions who had undertaken to hold the fortress of Dindenarois
against all comers fairly wasted their powder with shooting at sparrows,
and then, not having wherewith to defend themselves in time of need,
valiantly surrendered to the enemy, who were already packing up their awls,
full of madness and despair, and thought on nothing but a shameful retreat.
Take care this be remedied, son Vulcan; rouse up your drowsy Cyclopes,
Asteropes, Brontes, Arges, Polyphemus, Steropes, Pyracmon, and so forth,
set them at work, and make them drink as they ought.

Never spare liquor to such as are at hot work.  Now let us despatch this
bawling fellow below.  You, Mercury, go see who it is, and know what he
wants.  Mercury looked out at heaven's trapdoor, through which, as I am
told, they hear what is said here below.  By the way, one might well enough
mistake it for the scuttle of a ship; though Icaromenippus said it was like
the mouth of a well.  The light-heeled deity saw that it was honest Tom,
who asked for his lost hatchet; and accordingly he made his report to the
synod.  Marry, said Jupiter, we are finely helped up, as if we had now
nothing else to do here but to restore lost hatchets.  Well, he must have
it then for all this, for so 'tis written in the Book of Fate (do you
hear?), as well as if it was worth the whole duchy of Milan.  The truth is,
the fellow's hatchet is as much to him as a kingdom to a king.  Come, come,
let no more words be scattered about it; let him have his hatchet again.

Now, let us make an end of the difference betwixt the Levites and
mole-catchers of Landerousse.  Whereabouts were we?  Priapus was standing in
the chimney-corner, and having heard what Mercury had reported, said in a
most courteous and jovial manner:  King Jupiter, while by your order and
particular favour I was garden-keeper-general on earth, I observed that this
word hatchet is equivocal to many things; for it signifies a certain
instrument by the means of which men fell and cleave timber.  It also
signifies (at least I am sure it did formerly) a female soundly and
frequently thumpthumpriggletickletwiddletobyed.  Thus I perceived that every
cock of the game used to call his doxy his hatchet; for with that same tool
(this he said lugging out and exhibiting his nine-inch knocker) they so
strongly and resolutely shove and drive in their helves, that the females
remain free from a fear epidemical amongst their sex, viz., that from the
bottom of the male's belly the instrument should dangle at his heel for want
of such feminine props.  And I remember, for I have a member, and a memory
too, ay, and a fine memory, large enough to fill a butter-firkin; I
remember, I say, that one day of tubilustre (horn-fair) at the festivals of
goodman Vulcan in May, I heard Josquin Des Prez, Olkegan, Hobrecht,
Agricola, Brumel, Camelin, Vigoris, De la Fage, Bruyer, Prioris, Seguin, De
la Rue, Midy, Moulu, Mouton, Gascogne, Loyset, Compere, Penet, Fevin,
Rousee, Richard Fort, Rousseau, Consilion, Constantio Festi, Jacquet Bercan,
melodiously singing the following catch on a pleasant green:

  Long John to bed went to his bride,
  And laid a mallet by his side:
  What means this mallet, John? saith she.
  Why! 'tis to wedge thee home, quoth he.
  Alas! cried she, the man's a fool:
  What need you use a wooden tool?
  When lusty John does to me come,
  He never shoves but with his bum.

Nine Olympiads, and an intercalary year after (I have a rare member, I
would say memory; but I often make blunders in the symbolization and
colligance of those two words), I heard Adrian Villart, Gombert, Janequin,
Arcadet, Claudin, Certon, Manchicourt, Auxerre, Villiers, Sandrin, Sohier,
Hesdin, Morales, Passereau, Maille, Maillart, Jacotin, Heurteur, Verdelot,
Carpentras, L'Heritier, Cadeac, Doublet, Vermont, Bouteiller, Lupi,
Pagnier, Millet, Du Moulin, Alaire, Maraut, Morpain, Gendre, and other
merry lovers of music, in a private garden, under some fine shady trees,
round about a bulwark of flagons, gammons, pasties, with several coated
quails, and laced mutton, waggishly singing:

  Since tools without their hafts are useless lumber,
  And hatchets without helves are of that number;
  That one may go in t'other, and may match it,
  I'll be the helve, and thou shalt be the hatchet.

Now would I know what kind of hatchet this bawling Tom wants?  This threw
all the venerable gods and goddesses into a fit of laughter, like any
microcosm of flies; and even set limping Vulcan a-hopping and jumping
smoothly three or four times for the sake of his dear.  Come, come, said
Jupiter to Mercury, run down immediately, and cast at the poor fellow's
feet three hatchets:  his own, another of gold, and a third of massy
silver, all of one size; then having left it to his will to take his
choice, if he take his own, and be satisfied with it, give him the other
two; if he take another, chop his head off with his own; and henceforth
serve me all those losers of hatchets after that manner.  Having said this,
Jupiter, with an awkward turn of his head, like a jackanapes swallowing of
pills, made so dreadful a phiz that all the vast Olympus quaked again.
Heaven's foot messenger, thanks to his low-crowned narrow-brimmed hat, his
plume of feathers, heel-pieces, and running stick with pigeon wings, flings
himself out at heaven's wicket, through the idle deserts of the air, and in
a trice nimbly alights upon the earth, and throws at friend Tom's feet the
three hatchets, saying unto him:  Thou hast bawled long enough to be a-dry;
thy prayers and request are granted by Jupiter:  see which of these three
is thy hatchet, and take it away with thee.  Wellhung lifts up the golden
hatchet, peeps upon it, and finds it very heavy; then staring on Mercury,
cries, Codszouks, this is none of mine; I won't ha't:  the same he did with
the silver one, and said, 'Tis not this neither, you may e'en take them
again.  At last he takes up his own hatchet, examines the end of the helve,
and finds his mark there; then, ravished with joy, like a fox that meets
some straggling poultry, and sneering from the tip of the nose, he cried,
By the mass, this is my hatchet, master god; if you will leave it me, I
will sacrifice to you a very good and huge pot of milk brimful, covered
with fine strawberries, next ides of May.

Honest fellow, said Mercury, I leave it thee; take it; and because thou
hast wished and chosen moderately in point of hatchet, by Jupiter's command
I give thee these two others; thou hast now wherewith to make thyself rich:
be honest.  Honest Tom gave Mercury a whole cartload of thanks, and revered
the most great Jupiter.  His old hatchet he fastens close to his leathern
girdle, and girds it above his breech like Martin of Cambray; the two
others, being more heavy, he lays on his shoulder.  Thus he plods on,
trudging over the fields, keeping a good countenance amongst his neighbours
and fellow-parishioners, with one merry saying or other after Patelin's
way.  The next day, having put on a clean white jacket, he takes on his
back the two precious hatchets and comes to Chinon, the famous city, noble
city, ancient city, yea, the first city in the world, according to the
judgment and assertion of the most learned Massorets.  At Chinon he turned
his silver hatchet into fine testons, crown-pieces, and other white cash;
his golden hatchet into fine angels, curious ducats, substantial ridders,
spankers, and rose-nobles; then with them purchases a good number of farms,
barns, houses, out-houses, thatched houses, stables, meadows, orchards,
fields, vineyards, woods, arable lands, pastures, ponds, mills, gardens,
nurseries, oxen, cows, sheep, goats, swine, hogs, asses, horses, hens,
cocks, capons, chickens, geese, ganders, ducks, drakes, and a world of all
other necessaries, and in a short time became the richest man in the
country, nay, even richer than that limping scrape-good Maulevrier.  His
brother bumpkins, and the other yeomen and country-puts thereabouts,
perceiving his good fortune, were not a little amazed, insomuch that their
former pity of poor Tom was soon changed into an envy of his so great and
unexpected rise; and as they could not for their souls devise how this came
about, they made it their business to pry up and down, and lay their heads
together, to inquire, seek, and inform themselves by what means, in what
place, on what day, what hour, how, why, and wherefore, he had come by this
great treasure.

At last, hearing it was by losing his hatchet, Ha, ha! said they, was there
no more to do but to lose a hatchet to make us rich?  Mum for that; 'tis as
easy as pissing a bed, and will cost but little.  Are then at this time the
revolutions of the heavens, the constellations of the firmament, and
aspects of the planets such, that whosoever shall lose a hatchet shall
immediately grow rich?  Ha, ha, ha! by Jove, you shall e'en be lost, an't
please you, my dear hatchet.  With this they all fairly lost their hatchets
out of hand.  The devil of one that had a hatchet left; he was not his
mother's son that did not lose his hatchet.  No more was wood felled or
cleaved in that country through want of hatchets.  Nay, the Aesopian
apologue even saith that certain petty country gents of the lower class,
who had sold Wellhung their little mill and little field to have
wherewithal to make a figure at the next muster, having been told that his
treasure was come to him by that only means, sold the only badge of their
gentility, their swords, to purchase hatchets to go lose them, as the silly
clodpates did, in hopes to gain store of chink by that loss.

You would have truly sworn they had been a parcel of your petty spiritual
usurers, Rome-bound, selling their all, and borrowing of others, to buy
store of mandates, a pennyworth of a new-made pope.

Now they cried out and brayed, and prayed and bawled, and lamented, and
invoked Jupiter:  My hatchet! my hatchet!  Jupiter, my hatchet! on this
side, My hatchet! on that side, My hatchet!  Ho, ho, ho, ho, Jupiter, my
hatchet!  The air round about rung again with the cries and howlings of
these rascally losers of hatchets.

Mercury was nimble in bringing them hatchets; to each offering that which
he had lost, as also another of gold, and a third of silver.

Every he still was for that of gold, giving thanks in abundance to the
great giver, Jupiter; but in the very nick of time that they bowed and
stooped to take it from the ground, whip, in a trice, Mercury lopped off
their heads, as Jupiter had commanded; and of heads thus cut off the number
was just equal to that of the lost hatchets.

You see how it is now; you see how it goes with those who in the simplicity
of their hearts wish and desire with moderation.  Take warning by this, all
you greedy, fresh-water sharks, who scorn to wish for anything under ten
thousand pounds; and do not for the future run on impudently, as I have
sometimes heard you wishing, Would to God I had now one hundred
seventy-eight millions of gold!  Oh! how I should tickle it off.  The deuce
on you, what more might a king, an emperor, or a pope wish for?  For that
reason, indeed, you see that after you have made such hopeful wishes, all
the good that comes to you of it is the itch or the scab, and not a cross in
your breeches to scare the devil that tempts you to make these wishes:  no
more than those two mumpers, wishers after the custom of Paris; one of whom
only wished to have in good old gold as much as hath been spent, bought, and
sold in Paris, since its first foundations were laid, to this hour; all of
it valued at the price, sale, and rate of the dearest year in all that space
of time.  Do you think the fellow was bashful?  Had he eaten sour plums
unpeeled?  Were his teeth on edge, I pray you?  The other wished Our Lady's
Church brimful of steel needles, from the floor to the top of the roof, and
to have as many ducats as might be crammed into as many bags as might be
sewed with each and everyone of those needles, till they were all either
broke at the point or eye.  This is to wish with a vengeance!  What think
you of it?  What did they get by't, in your opinion?  Why at night both my
gentlemen had kibed heels, a tetter in the chin, a churchyard cough in the
lungs, a catarrh in the throat, a swingeing boil at the rump, and the devil
of one musty crust of a brown george the poor dogs had to scour their
grinders with.  Wish therefore for mediocrity, and it shall be given unto
you, and over and above yet; that is to say, provided you bestir yourself
manfully, and do your best in the meantime.

Ay, but say you, God might as soon have given me seventy-eight thousand as
the thirteenth part of one half; for he is omnipotent, and a million of
gold is no more to him than one farthing.  Oh, ho! pray tell me who taught
you to talk at this rate of the power and predestination of God, poor silly
people?  Peace, tush, st, st, st! fall down before his sacred face and own
the nothingness of your nothing.

Upon this, O ye that labour under the affliction of the gout, I ground my
hopes; firmly believing, that if so it pleases the divine goodness, you
shall obtain health; since you wish and ask for nothing else, at least for
the present.  Well, stay yet a little longer with half an ounce of
patience.

The Genoese do not use, like you, to be satisfied with wishing health
alone, when after they have all the livelong morning been in a brown study,
talked, pondered, ruminated, and resolved in the counting-houses of whom
and how they may squeeze the ready, and who by their craft must be hooked
in, wheedled,  bubbled, sharped, overreached, and choused; they go to the
exchange, and greet one another with a Sanita e guadagno, Messer! health
and gain to you, sir!  Health alone will not go down with the greedy
curmudgeons; they over and above must wish for gain, with a pox to 'em; ay,
and for the fine crowns, or scudi di Guadaigne; whence, heaven be praised!
it happens many a time that the silly wishers and woulders are baulked, and
get neither.

Now, my lads, as you hope for good health, cough once aloud with lungs of
leather; take me off three swingeing bumpers; prick up your ears; and you
shall hear me tell wonders of the noble and good Pantagruel.

How Pantagruel went to sea to visit the oracle of Bacbuc, alias the Holy
Bottle.

In the month of June, on Vesta's holiday, the very numerical day on which
Brutus, conquering Spain, taught its strutting dons to truckle under him,
and that niggardly miser Crassus was routed and knocked on the head by the
Parthians, Pantagruel took his leave of the good Gargantua, his royal
father.  The old gentleman, according to the laudable custom of the
primitive Christians, devoutly prayed for the happy voyage of his son and
his whole company, and then they took shipping at the port of Thalassa.
Pantagruel had with him Panurge, Friar John des Entomeures, alias of the
Funnels, Epistemon, Gymnast, Eusthenes, Rhizotome, Carpalin, cum multis
aliis, his ancient servants and domestics; also Xenomanes, the great
traveller, who had crossed so many dangerous roads, dikes, ponds, seas, and
so forth, and was come some time before, having been sent for by Panurge.

For certain good causes and considerations him thereunto moving, he had
left with Gargantua, and marked out, in his great and universal
hydrographical chart, the course which they were to steer to visit the
Oracle of the Holy Bottle Bacbuc.  The number of ships were such as I
described in the third book, convoyed by a like number of triremes, men of
war, galleons, and feluccas, well-rigged, caulked, and stored with a good
quantity of Pantagruelion.

All the officers, droggermen, pilots, captains, mates, boatswains,
midshipmen, quartermasters, and sailors, met in the Thalamege, Pantagruel's
principal flag-ship, which had in her stern for her ensign a huge large
bottle, half silver well polished, the other half gold enamelled with
carnation; whereby it was easy to guess that white and red were the colours
of the noble travellers, and that they went for the word of the Bottle.

On the stern of the second was a lantern like those of the ancients,
industriously made with diaphanous stone, implying that they were to pass
by Lanternland.  The third ship had for her device a fine deep china ewer.
The fourth, a double-handed jar of gold, much like an ancient urn.  The
fifth, a famous can made of sperm of emerald.  The sixth, a monk's mumping
bottle made of the four metals together.  The seventh, an ebony funnel, all
embossed and wrought with gold after the Tauchic manner.  The eighth, an
ivy goblet, very precious, inlaid with gold.  The ninth, a cup of fine
Obriz gold.  The tenth, a tumbler of aromatic agoloch (you call it lignum
aloes) edged with Cyprian gold, after the Azemine make.  The eleventh, a
golden vine-tub of mosaic work.  The twelfth, a runlet of unpolished gold,
covered with a small vine of large Indian pearl of Topiarian work.
Insomuch that there was not a man, however in the dumps, musty,
sour-looked, or melancholic he were, not even excepting that blubbering
whiner Heraclitus, had he been there, but seeing this noble convoy of ships
and their devices, must have been seized with present gladness of heart,
and, smiling at the conceit, have said that the travellers were all honest
topers, true pitcher-men, and have judged by a most sure prognostication
that their voyage, both outward and homeward-bound, would be performed in
mirth and perfect health.

In the Thalamege, where was the general meeting, Pantagruel made a short
but sweet exhortation, wholly backed with authorities from Scripture upon
navigation; which being ended, with an audible voice prayers were said in
the presence and hearing of all the burghers of Thalassa, who had flocked
to the mole to see them take shipping.  After the prayers was melodiously
sung a psalm of the holy King David, which begins, When Israel went out of
Egypt; and that being ended, tables were placed upon deck, and a feast
speedily served up. The Thalassians, who had also borne a chorus in the
psalm, caused store of belly-timber to be brought out of their houses.  All
drank to them; they drank to all; which was the cause that none of the
whole company gave up what they had eaten, nor were sea-sick, with a pain
at the head and stomach; which inconveniency they could not so easily have
prevented by drinking, for some time before, salt water, either alone or
mixed with wine; using quinces, citron peel, juice of pomegranates, sourish
sweetmeats, fasting a long time, covering their stomachs with paper, or
following such other idle remedies as foolish physicians prescribe to those
that go to sea.

Having often renewed their tipplings, each mother's son retired on board
his own ship, and set sail all so fast with a merry gale at south-east; to
which point of the compass the chief pilot, James Brayer by name, had
shaped his course, and fixed all things accordingly.  For seeing that the
Oracle of the Holy Bottle lay near Cathay, in the Upper India, his advice,
and that of Xenomanes also, was not to steer the course which the
Portuguese use, while sailing through the torrid zone, and Cape Bona
Speranza, at the south point of Africa, beyond the equinoctial line, and
losing sight of the northern pole, their guide, they make a prodigious long
voyage; but rather to keep as near the parallel of the said India as
possible, and to tack to the westward of the said pole, so that winding
under the north, they might find themselves in the latitude of the port of
Olone, without coming nearer it for fear of being shut up in the frozen
sea; whereas, following this canonical turn, by the said parallel, they
must have that on the right to the eastward, which at their departure was
on their left.

This proved a much shorter cut; for without shipwreck, danger, or loss of
men, with uninterrupted good weather, except one day near the island of the
Macreons, they performed in less than four months the voyage of Upper
India, which the Portuguese, with a thousand inconveniences and innumerable
dangers, can hardly complete in three years.  And it is my opinion, with
submission to better judgments, that this course was perhaps steered by
those Indians who sailed to Germany, and were honourably received by the
King of the Swedes, while Quintus Metellus Celer was proconsul of the
Gauls; as Cornelius Nepos, Pomponius Mela, and Pliny after them tell us.

How Pantagruel bought many rarities in the island of Medamothy.

That day and the two following they neither discovered land nor anything
new; for they had formerly sailed that way:  but on the fourth they made an
island called Medamothy, of a fine and delightful prospect, by reason of
the vast number of lighthouses and high marble towers in its circuit, which
is not less than that of Canada (sic).  Pantagruel, inquiring who governed
there, heard that it was King Philophanes, absent at that time upon account
of the marriage of his brother Philotheamon with the infanta of the kingdom
of Engys.

Hearing this, he went ashore in the harbour, and while every ship's crew
watered, passed his time in viewing divers pictures, pieces of tapestry,
animals, fishes, birds, and other exotic and foreign merchandises, which
were along the walks of the mole and in the markets of the port.  For it
was the third day of the great and famous fair of the place, to which the
chief merchants of Africa and Asia resorted.  Out of these Friar John
bought him two rare pictures; in one of which the face of a man that brings
in an appeal was drawn to the life; and in the other a servant that wants a
master, with every needful particular, action, countenance, look, gait,
feature, and deportment, being an original by Master Charles Charmois,
principal painter to King Megistus; and he paid for them in the court
fashion, with conge and grimace.  Panurge bought a large picture, copied
and done from the needle-work formerly wrought by Philomela, showing to her
sister Progne how her brother-in-law Tereus had by force handselled her
copyhold, and then cut out her tongue that she might not (as women will)
tell tales.  I vow and swear by the handle of my paper lantern that it was
a gallant, a mirific, nay, a most admirable piece.  Nor do you think, I
pray you, that in it was the picture of a man playing the beast with two
backs with a female; this had been too silly and gross:  no, no; it was
another-guise thing, and much plainer.  You may, if you please, see it at
Theleme, on the left hand as you go into the high gallery.  Epistemon
bought another, wherein were painted to the life the ideas of Plato and the
atoms of Epicurus.  Rhizotome purchased another, wherein Echo was drawn to
the life.  Pantagruel caused to be bought, by Gymnast, the life and deeds
of Achilles, in seventy-eight pieces of tapestry, four fathom long, and
three fathom broad, all of Phrygian silk, embossed with gold and silver;
the work beginning at the nuptials of Peleus and Thetis, continuing to the
birth of Achilles; his youth, described by Statius Papinius; his warlike
achievements, celebrated by Homer; his death and obsequies, written by Ovid
and Quintus Calaber; and ending at the appearance of his ghost, and
Polyxena's sacrifice, rehearsed by Euripides.

He also caused to be bought three fine young unicorns; one of them a male
of a chestnut colour, and two grey dappled females; also a tarand, whom he
bought of a Scythian of the Gelones' country.

A tarand is an animal as big as a bullock, having a head like a stag, or a
little bigger, two stately horns with large branches, cloven feet, hair
long like that of a furred Muscovite, I mean a bear, and a skin almost as
hard as steel armour.  The Scythian said that there are but few tarands to
be found in Scythia, because it varieth its colour according to the
diversity of the places where it grazes and abides, and represents the
colour of the grass, plants, trees, shrubs, flowers, meadows, rocks, and
generally of all things near which it comes.  It hath this common with the
sea-pulp, or polypus, with the thoes, with the wolves of India, and with
the chameleon, which is a kind of a lizard so wonderful that Democritus
hath written a whole book of its figure and anatomy, as also of its virtue
and propriety in magic.  This I can affirm, that I have seen it change its
colour, not only at the approach of things that have a colour, but by its
own voluntary impulse, according to its fear or other affections; as, for
example, upon a green carpet I have certainly seen it become green; but
having remained there some time, it turned yellow, blue, tanned, and purple
in course, in the same manner as you see a turkey-cock's comb change colour
according to its passions.  But what we find most surprising in this tarand
is, that not only its face and skin, but also its hair could take whatever
colour was about it.  Near Panurge, with his kersey coat, its hair used to
turn grey; near Pantagruel, with his scarlet mantle, its hair and skin grew
red; near the pilot, dressed after the fashion of the Isiacs of Anubis in
Egypt, its hair seemed all white, which two last colours the chameleons
cannot borrow.

When the creature was free from any fear or affection, the colour of its
hair was just such as you see that of the asses of Meung.

How Pantagruel received a letter from his father Gargantua, and of the
strange way to have speedy news from far distant places.

While Pantagruel was taken up with the purchase of those foreign animals,
the noise of ten guns and culverins, together with a loud and joyful cheer
of all the fleet, was heard from the mole.  Pantagruel looked towards the
haven, and perceived that this was occasioned by the arrival of one of his
father Gargantua's celoces, or advice-boats, named the Chelidonia; because
on the stern of it was carved in Corinthian brass a sea-swallow, which is a
fish as large as a dare-fish of Loire, all flesh, without scale, with
cartilaginous wings (like a bat's) very long and broad, by the means of
which I have seen them fly about three fathom above water, about a
bow-shot.  At Marseilles 'tis called lendole.  And indeed that ship was as
light as a swallow, so that it rather seemed to fly on the sea than to
sail.  Malicorne, Gargantua's esquire carver, was come in her, being sent
expressly by his master to have an account of his son's health and
circumstances, and to bring him credentials.  When Malicorne had saluted
Pantagruel, before the prince opened the letters, the first thing he said
to him was, Have you here the Gozal, the heavenly messenger?  Yes, sir,
said he; here it is swaddled up in this basket.  It was a grey pigeon,
taken out of Gargantua's dove-house, whose young ones were just hatched
when the advice-boat was going off.

If any ill fortune had befallen Pantagruel, he would have fastened some
black ribbon to his feet; but because all things had succeeded happily
hitherto, having caused it to be undressed, he tied to its feet a white
ribbon, and without any further delay let it loose.  The pigeon presently
flew away, cutting the air with an incredible speed, as you know that there
is no flight like a pigeon's, especially when it hath eggs or young ones,
through the extreme care which nature hath fixed in it to relieve and be
with its young; insomuch that in less than two hours it compassed in the
air the long tract which the advice-boat, with all her diligence, with oars
and sails, and a fair wind, could not go through in less than three days
and three nights; and was seen as it went into the dove-house in its nest.
Whereupon Gargantua, hearing that it had the white ribbon on, was joyful
and secure of his son's welfare.  This was the custom of the noble
Gargantua and Pantagruel when they would have speedy news of something of
great concern; as the event of some battle, either by sea or land; the
surrendering or holding out of some strong place; the determination of some
difference of moment; the safe or unhappy delivery of some queen or great
lady; the death or recovery of their sick friends or allies, and so forth.
They used to take the gozal, and had it carried from one to another by the
post, to the places whence they desired to have news.  The gozal, bearing
either a black or white ribbon, according to the occurrences and accidents,
used to remove their doubts at its return, making in the space of one hour
more way through the air than thirty postboys could have done in one
natural day.  May not this be said to redeem and gain time with a
vengeance, think you?  For the like service, therefore, you may believe as
a most true thing that in the dove-houses of their farms there were to be
found all the year long store of pigeons hatching eggs or rearing their
young.  Which may be easily done in aviaries and voleries by the help of
saltpetre and the sacred herb vervain.

The gozal being let fly, Pantagruel perused his father Gargantua's letter,
the contents of which were as followeth:

My dearest Son,--The affection that naturally a father bears a beloved son
is so much increased in me by reflecting on the particular gifts which by
the divine goodness have been heaped on thee, that since thy departure it
hath often banished all other thoughts out of my mind, leaving my heart
wholly possessed with fear lest some misfortune has attended thy voyage;
for thou knowest that fear was ever the attendant of true and sincere love.
Now because, as Hesiod saith, A good beginning of anything is the half of
it; or, Well begun's half done, according to the old saying; to free my
mind from this anxiety I have expressly despatched Malicorne, that he may
give me a true account of thy health at the beginning of thy voyage.  For
if it be good, and such as I wish it, I shall easily foresee the rest.

I have met with some diverting books, which the bearer will deliver thee;
thou mayest read them when thou wantest to unbend and ease thy mind from
thy better studies.  He will also give thee at large the news at court.
The peace of the Lord be with thee.  Remember me to Panurge, Friar John,
Epistemon, Xenomanes, Gymnast, and thy other principal domestics.  Dated at
our paternal seat, this 13th day of June.

            Thy father and friend, Gargantua.

How Pantagruel writ to his father Gargantua, and sent him several
curiosities.

Pantagruel, having perused the letter, had a long conference with the
esquire Malicorne; insomuch that Panurge, at last interrupting them, asked
him, Pray, sir, when do you design to drink?  When shall we drink?  When
shall the worshipful esquire drink?  What a devil! have you not talked long
enough to drink?  It is a good motion, answered Pantagruel:  go, get us
something ready at the next inn; I think 'tis the Centaur.  In the meantime
he writ to Gargantua as followeth, to be sent by the aforesaid esquire:

Most gracious Father,--As our senses and animal faculties are more
discomposed at the news of events unexpected, though desired (even to an
immediate dissolution of the soul from the body), than if those accidents
had been foreseen, so the coming of Malicorne hath much surprised and
disordered me.  For I had no hopes to see any of your servants, or to hear
from you, before I had finished our voyage; and contented myself with the
dear remembrance of your august majesty, deeply impressed in the hindmost
ventricle of my brain, often representing you to my mind.

But since you have made me happy beyond expectation by the perusal of your
gracious letter, and the faith I have in your esquire hath revived my
spirits by the news of your welfare, I am as it were compelled to do what
formerly I did freely, that is, first to praise the blessed Redeemer, who
by his divine goodness preserves you in this long enjoyment of perfect
health; then to return you eternal thanks for the fervent affection which
you have for me your most humble son and unprofitable servant.

Formerly a Roman, named Furnius, said to Augustus, who had received his
father into favour, and pardoned him after he had sided with Antony, that
by that action the emperor had reduced him to this extremity, that for want
of power to be grateful, both while he lived and after it, he should be
obliged to be taxed with ingratitude.  So I may say, that the excess of
your fatherly affection drives me into such a strait, that I shall be
forced to live and die ungrateful; unless that crime be redressed by the
sentence of the Stoics, who say that there are three parts in a benefit,
the one of the giver, the other of the receiver, the third of the
remunerator; and that the receiver rewards the giver when he freely
receives the benefit and always remembers it; as, on the contrary, that man
is most ungrateful who despises and forgets a benefit.  Therefore, being
overwhelmed with infinite favours, all proceeding from your extreme
goodness, and on the other side wholly incapable of making the smallest
return, I hope at least to free myself from the imputation of ingratitude,
since they can never be blotted out of my mind; and my tongue shall never
cease to own that to thank you as I ought transcends my capacity.

As for us, I have this assurance in the Lord's mercy and help, that the end
of our voyage will be answerable to its beginning, and so it will be
entirely performed in health and mirth.  I will not fail to set down in a
journal a full account of our navigation, that at our return you may have
an exact relation of the whole.

I have found here a Scythian tarand, an animal strange and wonderful for
the variations of colour on its skin and hair, according to the distinction
of neighbouring things; it is as tractable and easily kept as a lamb.  Be
pleased to accept of it.

I also send you three young unicorns, which are the tamest of creatures.

I have conferred with the esquire, and taught him how they must be fed.
These cannot graze on the ground by reason of the long horn on their
forehead, but are forced to browse on fruit trees, or on proper racks, or
to be fed by hand, with herbs, sheaves, apples, pears, barley, rye, and
other fruits and roots, being placed before them.

I am amazed that ancient writers should report them to be so wild, furious,
and dangerous, and never seen alive; far from it, you will find that they
are the mildest things in the world, provided they are not maliciously
offended.  Likewise I send you the life and deeds of Achilles in curious
tapestry; assuring you whatever rarities of animals, plants, birds, or
precious stones, and others, I shall be able to find and purchase in our
travels, shall be brought to you, God willing, whom I beseech, by his
blessed grace, to preserve you.

From Medamothy, this 15th of June.  Panurge, Friar John, Epistemon,
Zenomanes, Gymnast, Eusthenes, Rhizotome, and Carpalin, having most humbly
kissed your hand, return your salute a thousand times.

       Your most dutiful son and servant, Pantagruel.

While Pantagruel was writing this letter, Malicorne was made welcome by all
with a thousand goodly good-morrows and how-d'ye's; they clung about him so
that I cannot tell you how much they made of him, how many humble services,
how many from my love and to my love were sent with him.  Pantagruel,
having writ his letters, sat down at table with him, and afterwards
presented him with a large chain of gold, weighing eight hundred crowns,
between whose septenary links some large diamonds, rubies, emeralds,
turquoise stones, and unions were alternately set in.  To each of his
bark's crew he ordered to be given five hundred crowns.  To Gargantua, his
father, he sent the tarand covered with a cloth of satin, brocaded with
gold, and the tapestry containing the life and deeds of Achilles, with the
three unicorns in friezed cloth of gold trappings; and so they left
Medamothy--Malicorne to return to Gargantua, Pantagruel to proceed in his
voyage, during which Epistemon read to him the books which the esquire had
brought, and because he found them jovial and pleasant, I shall give you an
account of them, if you earnestly desire it.

How Pantagruel met a ship with passengers returning from Lanternland.

On the fifth day we began already to wind by little and little about the
pole; going still farther from the equinoctial line, we discovered a
merchant-man to the windward of us.  The joy for this was not small on both
sides; we in hopes to hear news from sea, and those in the merchant-man
from land.  So we bore upon 'em, and coming up with them we hailed them;
and finding them to be Frenchmen of Xaintonge, backed our sails and lay by
to talk to them.  Pantagruel heard that they came from Lanternland; which
added to his joy, and that of the whole fleet.  We inquired about the state
of that country, and the way of living of the Lanterns; and were told that
about the latter end of the following July was the time prefixed for the
meeting of the general chapter of the Lanterns; and that if we arrived
there at that time, as we might easily, we should see a handsome,
honourable, and jolly company of Lanterns; and that great preparations were
making, as if they intended to lanternize there to the purpose.  We were
told also that if we touched at the great kingdom of Gebarim, we should be
honourably received and treated by the sovereign of that country, King
Ohabe, who, as well as all his subjects, speaks Touraine French.

While we were listening to these news, Panurge fell out with one Dingdong,
a drover or sheep-merchant of Taillebourg.  The occasion of the fray was
thus:

This same Dingdong, seeing Panurge without a codpiece, with his spectacles
fastened to his cap, said to one of his comrades, Prithee, look, is there
not a fine medal of a cuckold?  Panurge, by reason of his spectacles, as
you may well think, heard more plainly by half with his ears than usually;
which caused him (hearing this) to say to the saucy dealer in mutton, in a
kind of a pet:

How the devil should I be one of the hornified fraternity, since I am not
yet a brother of the marriage-noose, as thou art; as I guess by thy
ill-favoured phiz?

Yea, verily, quoth the grazier, I am married, and would not be otherwise
for all the pairs of spectacles in Europe; nay, not for all the magnifying
gimcracks in Africa; for I have got me the cleverest, prettiest,
handsomest, properest, neatest, tightest, honestest, and soberest piece of
woman's flesh for my wife that is in all the whole country of Xaintonge;
I'll say that for her, and a fart for all the rest.  I bring her home a
fine eleven-inch-long branch of red coral for her Christmas-box.  What hast
thou to do with it? what's that to thee? who art thou? whence comest thou,
O dark lantern of Antichrist?  Answer, if thou art of God.  I ask thee, by
the way of question, said Panurge to him very seriously, if with the
consent and countenance of all the elements, I had gingumbobbed, codpieced,
and thumpthumpriggledtickledtwiddled thy so clever, so pretty, so handsome,
so proper, so neat, so tight, so honest, and so sober female importance,
insomuch that the stiff deity that has no forecast, Priapus (who dwells
here at liberty, all subjection of fastened codpieces, or bolts, bars, and
locks, abdicated), remained sticking in her natural Christmas-box in such a
lamentable manner that it were never to come out, but eternally should
stick there unless thou didst pull it out with thy teeth; what wouldst thou
do?  Wouldst thou everlastingly leave it there, or wouldst thou pluck it
out with thy grinders?  Answer me, O thou ram of Mahomet, since thou art
one of the devil's gang.  I would, replied the sheepmonger, take thee such
a woundy cut on this spectacle-bearing lug of thine with my trusty bilbo as
would smite thee dead as a herring.  Thus, having taken pepper in the nose,
he was lugging out his sword, but, alas!--cursed cows have short horns,--it
stuck in the scabbard; as you know that at sea cold iron will easily take
rust by reason of the excessive and nitrous moisture.  Panurge, so smitten
with terror that his heart sunk down to his midriff, scoured off to
Pantagruel for help; but Friar John laid hand on his flashing scimitar that
was new ground, and would certainly have despatched Dingdong to rights, had
not the skipper and some of his passengers beseeched Pantagruel not to
suffer such an outrage to be committed on board his ship.  So the matter
was made up, and Panurge and his antagonist shaked fists, and drank in
course to one another in token of a perfect reconciliation.

How, the fray being over, Panurge cheapened one of Dingdong's sheep.

This quarrel being hushed, Panurge tipped the wink upon Epistemon and Friar
John, and taking them aside, Stand at some distance out of the way, said
he, and take your share of the following scene of mirth.  You shall have
rare sport anon, if my cake be not dough, and my plot do but take.  Then
addressing himself to the drover, he took off to him a bumper of good
lantern wine.  The other pledged him briskly and courteously.  This done,
Panurge earnestly entreated him to sell him one of his sheep.

But the other answered him, Is it come to that, friend and neighbour?
Would you put tricks upon travellers?  Alas, how finely you love to play
upon poor folk!  Nay, you seem a rare chapman, that's the truth on't.  Oh,
what a mighty sheep-merchant you are!  In good faith, you look liker one of
the diving trade than a buyer of sheep.  Adzookers, what a blessing it
would be to have one's purse well lined with chink near your worship at a
tripe-house when it begins to thaw!  Humph, humph, did not we know you
well, you might serve one a slippery trick!  Pray do but see, good people,
what a mighty conjuror the fellow would be reckoned.  Patience, said
Panurge; but waiving that, be so kind as to sell me one of your sheep.
Come, how much?  What do you mean, master of mine? answered the other.
They are long-wool sheep; from these did Jason take his golden fleece.  The
gold of the house of Burgundy was drawn from them.  Zwoons, man, they are
oriental sheep, topping sheep, fatted sheep, sheep of quality.  Be it so,
said Panurge; but sell me one of them, I beseech you; and that for a cause,
paying you ready money upon the nail, in good and lawful occidental current
cash.  Wilt say how much?  Friend, neighbour, answered the seller of
mutton, hark ye me a little, on the ear.

  Panurge.  On which side you please; I hear you.

  Dingdong.  You are going to Lanternland, they say.

  Panurge.  Yea, verily.

  Dingdong.  To see fashions?

  Panurge.  Even so.

  Dingdong.  And be merry?

  Panurge.  And be merry.

  Dingdong.  Your name is, as I take it, Robin Mutton?

  Panurge.  As you please for that, sweet sir.

  Dingdong.  Nay, without offence.

  Panurge.  So I would have it.

  Dingdong.  You are, as I take it, the king's jester; aren't you?

  Panurge.  Ay, ay, anything.

  Dingdong.  Give me your hand--humph, humph, you go to see fashions, you
are the king's jester, your name is Robin Mutton!  Do you see this same
ram?  His name, too, is Robin.  Here, Robin, Robin, Robin!  Baea, baea,
baea.  Hath he not a rare voice?

  Panurge.  Ay, marry has he, a very fine and harmonious voice.

  Dingdong.  Well, this bargain shall be made between you and me, friend
and neighbour; we will get a pair of scales, then you Robin Mutton shall be
put into one of them, and Tup Robin into the other.  Now I will hold you a
peck of Busch oysters that in weight, value, and price he shall outdo you,
and you shall be found light in the very numerical manner as when you shall
be hanged and suspended.

Patience, said Panurge; but you would do much for me and your whole
posterity if you would chaffer with me for him, or some other of his
inferiors.  I beg it of you; good your worship, be so kind.  Hark ye,
friend of mine, answered the other; with the fleece of these your fine
Rouen cloth is to be made; your Leominster superfine wool is mine arse to
it; mere flock in comparison.  Of their skins the best cordovan will be
made, which shall be sold for Turkey and Montelimart, or for Spanish
leather at least.  Of the guts shall be made fiddle and harp strings that
will sell as dear as if they came from Munican or Aquileia.  What do you
think on't, hah?  If you please, sell me one of them, said Panurge, and I
will be yours for ever.  Look, here's ready cash.  What's the price?  This
he said exhibiting his purse stuffed with new Henricuses.

Which if you read you'll find how Panurge bargained with Dingdong.

Neighbour, my friend, answered Dingdong, they are meat for none but kings
and princes; their flesh is so delicate, so savoury, and so dainty that one
would swear it melted in the mouth.  I bring them out of a country where
the very hogs, God be with us, live on nothing but myrobolans.  The sows in
the styes when they lie-in (saving the honour of this good company) are fed
only with orange-flowers.  But, said Panurge, drive a bargain with me for
one of them, and I will pay you for't like a king, upon the honest word of
a true Trojan; come, come, what do you ask?  Not so fast, Robin, answered
the trader; these sheep are lineally descended from the very family of the
ram that wafted Phryxus and Helle over the sea since called the Hellespont.
A pox on't, said Panurge, you are clericus vel addiscens!  Ita is a
cabbage, and vere a leek, answered the merchant.  But, rr, rrr, rrrr,
rrrrr, hoh Robin, rr, rrrrrrr, you don't understand that gibberish, do you?
Now I think on't, over all the fields where they piss, corn grows as fast
as if the Lord had pissed there; they need neither be tilled nor dunged.
Besides, man, your chemists extract the best saltpetre in the world out of
their urine.  Nay, with their very dung (with reverence be it spoken) the
doctors in our country make pills that cure seventy-eight kinds of
diseases, the least of which is the evil of St. Eutropius of Xaintes, from
which, good Lord, deliver us!  Now what do you think on't, neighbour, my
friend?  The truth is, they cost me money, that they do.  Cost what they
will, cried Panurge, trade with me for one of them, paying you well.  Our
friend, quoth the quacklike sheepman, do but mind the wonders of nature
that are found in those animals, even in a member which one would think
were of no use.  Take me but these horns, and bray them a little with an
iron pestle, or with an andiron, which you please, it is all one to me;
then bury them wherever you will, provided it be where the sun may shine,
and water them frequently; in a few months I'll engage you will have the
best asparagus in the world, not even excepting those of Ravenna.  Now,
come and tell me whether the horns of your other knights of the bull's
feather have such a virtue and wonderful propriety?

Patience, said Panurge.  I don't know whether you be a scholar or no,
pursued Dingdong; I have seen a world of scholars, I say great scholars,
that were cuckolds, I'll assure you.  But hark you me, if you were a
scholar, you should know that in the most inferior members of those
animals, which are the feet, there is a bone, which is the heel, the
astragalus, if you will have it so, wherewith, and with that of no other
creature breathing, except the Indian ass and the dorcades of Libya, they
used in old times to play at the royal game of dice, whereat Augustus the
emperor won above fifty thousand crowns one evening.  Now such cuckolds as
you will be hanged ere you get half so much at it.  Patience, said Panurge;
but let us despatch.  And when, my friend and neighbour, continued the
canting sheepseller, shall I have duly praised the inward members, the
shoulders, the legs, the knuckles, the neck, the breast, the liver, the
spleen, the tripes, the kidneys, the bladder, wherewith they make
footballs; the ribs, which serve in Pigmyland to make little crossbows to
pelt the cranes with cherry-stones; the head, which with a little brimstone
serves to make a miraculous decoction to loosen and ease the belly of
costive dogs?  A turd on't, said the skipper to his preaching passenger,
what a fiddle-faddle have we here?  There is too long a lecture by half:
sell him if thou wilt; if thou won't, don't let the man lose more time.  I
hate a gibble-gabble and a rimble-ramble talk.  I am for a man of brevity.
I will, for your sake, replied the holder-forth; but then he shall give me
three livres, French money, for each pick and choose.  It is a woundy
price, cried Panurge; in our country I could have five, nay six, for the
money; see that you do not overreach me, master.  You are not the first man
whom I have known to have fallen, even sometimes to the endangering, if not
breaking, of his own neck, for endeavouring to rise all at once.  A murrain
seize thee for a blockheaded booby, cried the angry seller of sheep; by the
worthy vow of Our Lady of Charroux, the worst in this flock is four times
better than those which the Coraxians in Tuditania, a country of Spain,
used to sell for a gold talent each; and how much dost thou think, thou
Hibernian fool, that a talent of gold was worth?  Sweet sir, you fall into
a passion, I see, returned Panurge; well, hold, here is your money.
Panurge, having paid his money, chose him out of all the flock a fine
topping ram; and as he was hauling it along, crying out and bleating, all
the rest, hearing and bleating in concert, stared to see whither their
brother-ram should be carried.  In the meanwhile the drover was saying to
his shepherds:  Ah! how well the knave could choose him out a ram; the
whoreson has skill in cattle.  On my honest word, I reserved that very
piece of flesh for the Lord of Cancale, well knowing his disposition; for
the good man is naturally overjoyed when he holds a good-sized handsome
shoulder of mutton, instead of a left-handed racket, in one hand, with a
good sharp carver in the other.  God wot, how he belabours himself then.

How Panurge caused Dingdong and his sheep to be drowned in the sea.

On a sudden, you would wonder how the thing was so soon done--for my part I
cannot tell you, for I had not leisure to mind it--our friend Panurge,
without any further tittle-tattle, throws you his ram overboard into the
middle of the sea, bleating and making a sad noise.  Upon this all the
other sheep in the ship, crying and bleating in the same tone, made all the
haste they could to leap nimbly into the sea, one after another; and great
was the throng who should leap in first after their leader.  It was
impossible to hinder them; for you know that it is the nature of sheep
always to follow the first wheresoever it goes; which makes Aristotle, lib.
9. De. Hist. Animal., mark them for the most silly and foolish animals in
the world.  Dingdong, at his wits' end, and stark staring mad, as a man who
saw his sheep destroy and drown themselves before his face, strove to
hinder and keep them back with might and main; but all in vain:  they all
one after t'other frisked and jumped into the sea, and were lost.  At last
he laid hold on a huge sturdy one by the fleece, upon the deck of the ship,
hoping to keep it back, and so save that and the rest; but the ram was so
strong that it proved too hard for him, and carried its master into the
herring pond in spite of his teeth--where it is supposed he drank somewhat
more than his fill, so that he was drowned--in the same manner as one-eyed
Polyphemus' sheep carried out of the den Ulysses and his companions.  The
like happened to the shepherds and all their gang, some laying hold on
their beloved tup, this by the horns, t'other by the legs, a third by the
rump, and others by the fleece; till in fine they were all of them forced
to sea, and drowned like so many rats.  Panurge, on the gunnel of the ship,
with an oar in his hand, not to help them you may swear, but to keep them
from swimming to the ship and saving themselves from drowning, preached and
canted to them all the while like any little Friar (Oliver) Maillard, or
another Friar John Burgess; laying before them rhetorical commonplaces
concerning the miseries of this life and the blessings and felicity of the
next; assuring them that the dead were much happier than the living in this
vale of misery, and promised to erect a stately cenotaph and honorary tomb
to every one of them on the highest summit of Mount Cenis at his return
from Lanternland; wishing them, nevertheless, in case they were not yet
disposed to shake hands with this life, and did not like their salt liquor,
they might have the good luck to meet with some kind whale which might set
them ashore safe and sound on some blessed land of Gotham, after a famous
example.

The ship being cleared of Dingdong and his tups:  Is there ever another
sheepish soul left lurking on board? cried Panurge.  Where are those of
Toby Lamb and Robin Ram that sleep while the rest are a-feeding?  Faith, I
can't tell myself.  This was an old coaster's trick.  What think'st of it,
Friar John, hah?  Rarely performed, answered Friar John; only methinks that
as formerly in war, on the day of battle, a double pay was commonly
promised the soldiers for that day; for if they overcame, there was enough
to pay them; and if they lost, it would have been shameful for them to
demand it, as the cowardly foresters did after the battle of Cerizoles;
likewise, my friend, you ought not to have paid your man, and the money had
been saved.  A fart for the money, said Panurge; have I not had above fifty
thousand pounds' worth of sport?  Come now, let's be gone; the wind is
fair.  Hark you me, my friend John; never did man do me a good turn, but I
returned, or at least acknowledged it; no, I scorn to be ungrateful; I
never was, nor ever will be.  Never did man do me an ill one without rueing
the day that he did it, either in this world or the next.  I am not yet so
much a fool neither.  Thou damn'st thyself like any old devil, quoth Friar
John; it is written, Mihi vindictam, &c.  Matter of breviary, mark ye me
(Motteux adds unnecessarily (by way of explanation), 'that's holy stuff.').

How Pantagruel arrived at the island of Ennasin, and of the strange ways of
being akin in that country.

We had still the wind at south-south-west, and had been a whole day without
making land.  On the third day, at the flies' uprising (which, you know, is
some two or three hours after the sun's), we got sight of a triangular
island, very much like Sicily for its form and situation.  It was called
the Island of Alliances.

The people there are much like your carrot-pated Poitevins, save only that
all of them, men, women, and children, have their noses shaped like an ace
of clubs.  For that reason the ancient name of the country was Ennasin.
They were all akin, as the mayor of the place told us; at least they
boasted so.

You people of the other world esteem it a wonderful thing that, out of the
family of the Fabii at Rome, on a certain day, which was the 13th of
February, at a certain gate, which was the Porta Carmentalis, since named
Scelerata, formerly situated at the foot of the Capitol, between the
Tarpeian rock and the Tiber, marched out against the Veientes of Etruria
three hundred and six men bearing arms, all related to each other, with
five thousand other soldiers, every one of them their vassals, who were all
slain near the river Cremera, that comes out of the lake of Beccano.  Now
from this same country of Ennasin, in case of need, above three hundred
thousand, all relations and of one family, might march out.  Their degrees
of consanguinity and alliance are very strange; for being thus akin and
allied to one another, we found that none was either father or mother,
brother or sister, uncle or aunt, nephew or niece, son-in-law or
daughter-in-law, godfather or godmother, to the other; unless, truly, a tall
flat-nosed old fellow, who, as I perceived, called a little shitten-arsed
girl of three or four years old, father, and the child called him daughter.

Their distinction of degrees of kindred was thus:  a man used to call a
woman, my lean bit; the woman called him, my porpoise.  Those, said Friar
John, must needs stink damnably of fish when they have rubbed their bacon
one with the other.  One, smiling on a young buxom baggage, said, Good
morrow, dear currycomb.  She, to return him his civility, said, The like to
you, my steed.  Ha! ha! ha! said Panurge, that is pretty well, in faith;
for indeed it stands her in good stead to currycomb this steed.  Another
greeted his buttock with a Farewell, my case.  She replied, Adieu, trial.
By St. Winifred's placket, cried Gymnast, this case has been often tried.
Another asked a she-friend of his, How is it, hatchet?  She answered him,
At your service, dear helve.  Odds belly, saith Carpalin, this helve and
this hatchet are well matched.  As we went on, I saw one who, calling his
she-relation, styled her my crumb, and she called him, my crust.

Quoth one to a brisk, plump, juicy female, I am glad to see you, dear tap.
So am I to find you so merry, sweet spiggot, replied she.  One called a
wench, his shovel; she called him, her peal:  one named his, my slipper;
and she, my foot:  another, my boot; she, my shasoon.

In the same degree of kindred, one called his, my butter; she called him,
my eggs; and they were akin just like a dish of buttered eggs.  I heard one
call his, my tripe, and she him, my faggot.  Now I could not, for the
heart's blood of me, pick out or discover what parentage, alliance,
affinity, or consanguinity was between them, with reference to our custom;
only they told us that she was faggot's tripe.  (Tripe de fagot means the
smallest sticks in a faggot.)  Another, complimenting his convenient, said,
Yours, my shell; she replied, I was yours before, sweet oyster.  I reckon,
said Carpalin, she hath gutted his oyster.  Another long-shanked ugly
rogue, mounted on a pair of high-heeled wooden slippers, meeting a
strapping, fusty, squabbed dowdy, says he to her, How is't my top?  She was
short upon him, and arrogantly replied, Never the better for you, my whip.
By St. Antony's hog, said Xenomanes, I believe so; for how can this whip be
sufficient to lash this top?

A college professor, well provided with cod, and powdered and prinked up,
having a while discoursed with a great lady, taking his leave with these
words, Thank you, sweetmeat; she cried, There needs no thanks, sour-sauce.
Saith Pantagruel, This is not altogether incongruous, for sweet meat must
have sour sauce.  A wooden loggerhead said to a young wench, It is long
since I saw you, bag; All the better, cried she, pipe.  Set them together,
said Panurge, then blow in their arses, it will be a bagpipe.  We saw,
after that, a diminutive humpbacked gallant, pretty near us, taking leave
of a she-relation of his, thus:  Fare thee well, friend hole; she
reparteed, Save thee, friend peg.  Quoth Friar John, What could they say
more, were he all peg and she all hole?  But now would I give something to
know if every cranny of the hole can be stopped up with that same peg.

A bawdy bachelor, talking with an old trout, was saying, Remember, rusty
gun.  I will not fail, said she, scourer.  Do you reckon these two to be
akin? said Pantagruel to the mayor.  I rather take them to be foes.  In our
country a woman would take this as a mortal affront.  Good people of
t'other world, replied the mayor, you have few such and so near relations
as this gun and scourer are to one another; for they both come out of one
shop.  What, was the shop their mother? quoth Panurge.  What mother, said
the mayor, does the man mean?  That must be some of your world's affinity;
we have here neither father nor mother.  Your little paltry fellows that
live on t'other side the water, poor rogues, booted with wisps of hay, may
indeed have such; but we scorn it.  The good Pantagruel stood gazing and
listening; but at those words he had like to have lost all patience. (Here
Motteux adds an aside--'os kai nun o Ermeneutes.  P.M.').

Having very exactly viewed the situation of the island and the way of
living of the Enassed nation, we went to take a cup of the creature at a
tavern, where there happened to be a wedding after the manner of the
country.  Bating that shocking custom, there was special good cheer.

While we were there, a pleasant match was struck up betwixt a female called
Pear (a tight thing, as we thought, but by some, who knew better things,
said to be quaggy and flabby), and a young soft male, called Cheese,
somewhat sandy.  (Many such matches have been, and they were formerly much
commended.)  In our country we say, Il ne fut onques tel mariage, qu'est de
la poire et du fromage; there is no match like that made between the pear
and the cheese; and in many other places good store of such bargains have
been driven.  Besides, when the women are at their last prayers, it is to
this day a noted saying, that after cheese comes nothing.

In another room I saw them marrying an old greasy boot to a young pliable
buskin.  Pantagruel was told that young buskin took old boot to have and to
hold because she was of special leather, in good case, and waxed, seared,
liquored, and greased to the purpose, even though it had been for the
fisherman that went to bed with his boots on.  In another room below, I saw
a young brogue taking a young slipper for better for worse; which, they
told us, was neither for the sake of her piety, parts, or person, but for
the fourth comprehensive p, portion; the spankers, spur-royals,
rose-nobles, and other coriander seed with which she was quilted all over.

How Pantagruel went ashore at the island of Chely, where he saw King St.
Panigon.

We sailed right before the wind, which we had at west, leaving those odd
alliancers with their ace-of-clubs snouts, and having taken height by the
sun, stood in for Chely, a large, fruitful, wealthy, and well-peopled
island.  King St. Panigon, first of the name, reigned there, and, attended
by the princes his sons and the nobles of his court, came as far as the
port to receive Pantagruel, and conducted him to his palace; near the gate
of which the queen, attended by the princesses her daughters and the court
ladies, received us.  Panigon directed her and all her retinue to salute
Pantagruel and his men with a kiss; for such was the civil custom of the
country; and they were all fairly bussed accordingly, except Friar John,
who stepped aside and sneaked off among the king's officers.  Panigon used
all the entreaties imaginable to persuade Pantagruel to tarry there that
day and the next; but he would needs be gone, and excused himself upon the
opportunity of wind and weather, which, being oftener desired than enjoyed,
ought not to be neglected when it comes.  Panigon, having heard these
reasons, let us go, but first made us take off some five-and-twenty or
thirty bumpers each.

Pantagruel, returning to the port, missed Friar John, and asked why he was
not with the rest of the company.  Panurge could not tell how to excuse
him, and would have gone back to the palace to call him, when Friar John
overtook them, and merrily cried, Long live the noble Panigon!  As I love
my belly, he minds good eating, and keeps a noble house and a dainty
kitchen.  I have been there, boys.  Everything goes about by dozens.  I was
in good hopes to have stuffed my puddings there like a monk.  What! always
in a kitchen, friend? said Pantagruel.  By the belly of St. Cramcapon,
quoth the friar, I understand the customs and ceremonies which are used
there much better than all the formal stuff, antique postures, and
nonsensical fiddle-faddle that must be used with those women, magni magna,
shittencumshita, cringes, grimaces, scrapes, bows, and congees; double
honours this way, triple salutes that way, the embrace, the grasp, the
squeeze, the hug, the leer, the smack, baso las manos de vostra merce, de
vostra maesta.  You are most tarabin, tarabas, Stront; that's downright
Dutch.  Why all this ado?  I don't say but a man might be for a bit by the
bye and away, to be doing as well as his neighbours; but this little nasty
cringing and courtesying made me as mad as any March devil.  You talk of
kissing ladies; by the worthy and sacred frock I wear, I seldom venture
upon it, lest I be served as was the Lord of Guyercharois.  What was it?
said Pantagruel; I know him.  He is one of the best friends I have.

He was invited to a sumptuous feast, said Friar John, by a relation and
neighbour of his, together with all the gentlemen and ladies in the
neighbourhood.  Now some of the latter expecting his coming, dressed the
pages in women's clothes, and finified them like any babies; then ordered
them to meet my lord at his coming near the drawbridge.  So the
complimenting monsieur came, and there kissed the petticoated lads with
great formality.  At last the ladies, who minded passages in the gallery,
burst out with laughing, and made signs to the pages to take off their
dress; which the good lord having observed, the devil a bit he durst make
up to the true ladies to kiss them, but said, that since they had disguised
the pages, by his great grandfather's helmet, these were certainly the very
footmen and grooms still more cunningly disguised.  Odds fish, da jurandi,
why do not we rather remove our humanities into some good warm kitchen of
God, that noble laboratory, and there admire the turning of the spits, the
harmonious rattling of the jacks and fenders, criticise on the position of
the lard, the temperature of the pottages, the preparation for the dessert,
and the order of the wine service?  Beati immaculati in via.  Matter of
breviary, my masters.

Why monks love to be in kitchens.

This, said Epistemon, is spoke like a true monk; I mean like a right
monking monk, not a bemonked monastical monkling.  Truly you put me in mind
of some passages that happened at Florence, some twenty years ago, in a
company of studious travellers, fond of visiting the learned, and seeing
the antiquities of Italy, among whom I was.  As we viewed the situation and
beauty of Florence, the structure of the dome, the magnificence of the
churches and palaces, we strove to outdo one another in giving them their
due; when a certain monk of Amiens, Bernard Lardon by name, quite angry,
scandalized, and out of all patience, told us, I don't know what the devil
you can find in this same town, that is so much cried up; for my part I
have looked and pored and stared as well as the best of you; I think my
eyesight is as clear as another body's, and what can one see after all?
There are fine houses, indeed and that's all.  But the cage does not feed
the birds.  God and Monsieur St. Bernard, our good patron, be with us! in
all this same town I have not seen one poor lane of roasting cooks; and yet
I have not a little looked about and sought for so necessary a part of a
commonwealth:  ay, and I dare assure you that I have pried up and down with
the exactness of an informer; as ready to number, both to the right and
left, how many, and on what side, we might find most roasting cooks, as a
spy would be to reckon the bastions of a town.  Now at Amiens, in four,
nay, five times less ground than we have trod in our contemplations, I
could have shown you above fourteen streets of roasting cooks, most
ancient, savoury, and aromatic.  I cannot imagine what kind of pleasure you
can have taken in gazing on the lions and Africans (so methinks you call
their tigers) near the belfry, or in ogling the porcupines and estridges in
the Lord Philip Strozzi's palace.  Faith and truth I had rather see a good
fat goose at the spit.  This porphyry, those marbles are fine; I say
nothing to the contrary; but our cheesecakes at Amiens are far better in my
mind.  These ancient statues are well made; I am willing to believe it;
but, by St. Ferreol of Abbeville, we have young wenches in our country
which please me better a thousand times.

What is the reason, asked Friar John, that monks are always to be found in
kitchens, and kings, emperors, and popes are never there?  Is there not,
said Rhizotome, some latent virtue and specific propriety hid in the
kettles and pans, which, as the loadstone attracts iron, draws the monks
there, and cannot attract emperors, popes, or kings?  Or is it a natural
induction and inclination, fixed in the frocks and cowls, which of itself
leads and forceth those good religious men into kitchens, whether they will
or no?  He would speak of forms following matter, as Averroes calls them,
answered Epistemon.  Right, said Friar John.

I will not offer to solve this problem, said Pantagruel; for it is somewhat
ticklish, and you can hardly handle it without coming off scurvily; but I
will tell you what I have heard.

Antigonus, King of Macedon, one day coming into one of the tents, where his
cooks used to dress his meat, and finding there poet Antagoras frying a
conger, and holding the pan himself, merrily asked him, Pray, Mr. Poet, was
Homer frying congers when he wrote the deeds of Agamemnon?  Antagoras
readily answered:  But do you think, sir, that when Agamemnon did them he
made it his business to know if any in his camp were frying congers?  The
king thought it an indecency that a poet should be thus a-frying in a
kitchen; and the poet let the king know that it was a more indecent thing
for a king to be found in such a place.  I'll clap another story upon the
neck of this, quoth Panurge, and will tell you what Breton Villandry
answered one day to the Duke of Guise.

They were saying that at a certain battle of King Francis against Charles
the Fifth, Breton, armed cap-a-pie to the teeth, and mounted like St.
George, yet sneaked off, and played least in sight during the engagement.
Blood and oons, answered Breton, I was there, and can prove it easily; nay,
even where you, my lord, dared not have been.  The duke began to resent
this as too rash and saucy; but Breton easily appeased him, and set them
all a-laughing.  Egad, my lord, quoth he, I kept out of harm's way; I was
all the while with your page Jack, skulking in a certain place where you
had not dared hide your head as I did.  Thus discoursing, they got to their
ships, and left the island of Chely.

How Pantagruel passed by the land of Pettifogging, and of the strange way
of living among the Catchpoles.

Steering our course forwards the next day, we passed through Pettifogging,
a country all blurred and blotted, so that I could hardly tell what to make
on't.  There we saw some pettifoggers and catchpoles, rogues that will hang
their father for a groat.  They neither invited us to eat or drink; but,
with a multiplied train of scrapes and cringes, said they were all at our
service for the Legem pone.

One of our droggermen related to Pantagruel their strange way of living,
diametrically opposed to that of our modern Romans; for at Rome a world of
folks get an honest livelihood by poisoning, drubbing, lambasting,
stabbing, and murthering; but the catchpoles earn theirs by being thrashed;
so that if they were long without a tight lambasting, the poor dogs with
their wives and children would be starved.  This is just, quoth Panurge,
like those who, as Galen tells us, cannot erect the cavernous nerve towards
the equinoctial circle unless they are soundly flogged.  By St. Patrick's
slipper, whoever should jerk me so, would soon, instead of setting me
right, throw me off the saddle, in the devil's name.

The way is this, said the interpreter.  When a monk, levite, close-fisted
usurer, or lawyer owes a grudge to some neighbouring gentleman, he sends to
him one of those catchpoles or apparitors, who nabs, or at least cites him,
serves a writ or warrant upon him, thumps, abuses, and affronts him
impudently by natural instinct, and according to his pious instructions;
insomuch, that if the gentleman hath but any guts in his brains, and is not
more stupid than a gyrin frog, he will find himself obliged either to apply
a faggot-stick or his sword to the rascal's jobbernowl, give him the gentle
lash, or make him cut a caper out at the window, by way of correction.
This done, Catchpole is rich for four months at least, as if bastinadoes
were his real harvest; for the monk, levite, usurer, or lawyer will reward
him roundly; and my gentleman must pay him such swingeing damages that his
acres must bleed for it, and he be in danger of miserably rotting within a
stone doublet, as if he had struck the king.

Quoth Panurge, I know an excellent remedy against this used by the Lord of
Basche.  What is it? said Pantagruel.  The Lord of Basche, said Panurge,
was a brave, honest, noble-spirited gentleman, who, at his return from the
long war in which the Duke of Ferrara, with the help of the French, bravely
defended himself against the fury of Pope Julius the Second, was every day
cited, warned, and prosecuted at the suit and for the sport and fancy of
the fat prior of St. Louant.

One morning, as he was at breakfast with some of his domestics (for he
loved to be sometimes among them) he sent for one Loire, his baker, and his
spouse, and for one Oudart, the vicar of his parish, who was also his
butler, as the custom was then in France; then said to them before his
gentlemen and other servants:  You all see how I am daily plagued with
these rascally catchpoles.  Truly, if you do not lend me your helping hand,
I am finally resolved to leave the country, and go fight for the sultan, or
the devil, rather than be thus eternally teased.  Therefore, to be rid of
their damned visits, hereafter, when any of them come here, be ready, you
baker and your wife, to make your personal appearance in my great hall, in
your wedding clothes, as if you were going to be affianced.  Here, take
these ducats, which I give you to keep you in a fitting garb.  As for you,
Sir Oudart, be sure you make your personal appearance there in your fine
surplice and stole, not forgetting your holy water, as if you were to wed
them.  Be you there also, Trudon, said he to his drummer, with your pipe
and tabor.  The form of matrimony must be read, and the bride kissed; then
all of you, as the witnesses used to do in this country, shall give one
another the remembrance of the wedding, which you know is to be a blow with
your fist, bidding the party struck remember the nuptials by that token.
This will but make you have the better stomach to your supper; but when you
come to the catchpole's turn, thrash him thrice and threefold, as you would
a sheaf of green corn; do not spare him; maul him, drub him, lambast him,
swinge him off, I pray you.  Here, take these steel gauntlets, covered with
kid.  Head, back, belly, and sides, give him blows innumerable; he that
gives him most shall be my best friend.  Fear not to be called to an
account about it; I will stand by you; for the blows must seem to be given
in jest, as it is customary among us at all weddings.

Ay, but how shall we know the catchpole? said the man of God.  All sorts of
people daily resort to this castle.  I have taken care of that, replied the
lord.  When some fellow, either on foot, or on a scurvy jade, with a large
broad silver ring on his thumb, comes to the door, he is certainly a
catchpole; the porter having civilly let him in, shall ring the bell; then
be all ready, and come into the hall, to act the tragi-comedy whose plot I
have now laid for you.

That numerical day, as chance would have it, came an old fat ruddy
catchpole.  Having knocked at the gate, and then pissed, as most men will
do, the porter soon found him out, by his large greasy spatterdashes, his
jaded hollow-flanked mare, his bagful of writs and informations dangling at
his girdle, but, above all, by the large silver hoop on his left thumb.

The porter was civil to him, admitted him in kindly, and rung the bell
briskly. As soon as the baker and his wife heard it, they clapped on their
best clothes, and made their personal appearance in the hall, keeping their
gravities like a new-made judge.  The dominie put on his surplice and
stole, and as he came out of his office, met the catchpole, had him in
there, and made him suck his face a good while, while the gauntlets were
drawing on all hands; and then told him, You are come just in pudding-time;
my lord is in his right cue.  We shall feast like kings anon; here is to be
swingeing doings; we have a wedding in the house; here, drink and cheer up;
pull away.

While these two were at it hand-to-fist, Basche, seeing all his people in
the hall in their proper equipage, sends for the vicar.  Oudart comes with
the holy-water pot, followed by the catchpole, who, as he came into the
hall, did not forget to make good store of awkward cringes, and then served
Basche with a writ.  Basche gave him grimace for grimace, slipped an angel
into his mutton-fist, and prayed him to assist at the contract and
ceremony; which he did.  When it was ended, thumps and fisticuffs began to
fly about among the assistants; but when it came to the catchpole's turn,
they all laid on him so unmercifully with their gauntlets that they at last
settled him, all stunned and battered, bruised and mortified, with one of
his eyes black and blue, eight ribs bruised, his brisket sunk in, his
omoplates in four quarters, his under jawbone in three pieces; and all this
in jest, and no harm done.  God wot how the levite belaboured him, hiding
within the long sleeve of his canonical shirt his huge steel gauntlet lined
with ermine; for he was a strong-built ball, and an old dog at fisticuffs.
The catchpole, all of a bloody tiger-like stripe, with much ado crawled
home to L'Isle Bouchart, well pleased and edified, however, with Basche's
kind reception; and, with the help of the good surgeons of the place, lived
as long as you would have him.  From that time to this, not a word of the
business; the memory of it was lost with the sound of the bells that rung
with joy at his funeral.

How, like Master Francis Villon, the Lord of Basche commended his servants.

The catchpole being packed off on blind Sorrel--so he called his one-eyed
mare--Basche sent for his lady, her women, and all his servants, into the
arbour of his garden; had wine brought, attended with good store of
pasties, hams, fruit, and other table-ammunition, for a nunchion; drank
with them joyfully, and then told them this story:

Master Francis Villon in his old age retired to St. Maxent in Poitou, under
the patronage of a good honest abbot of the place.  There to make sport for
the mob, he undertook to get the Passion acted, after the way, and in the
dialect of the country.  The parts being distributed, the play having been
rehearsed, and the stage prepared, he told the mayor and aldermen that the
mystery might be ready after Niort fair, and that there only wanted
properties and necessaries, but chiefly clothes fit for the parts; so the
mayor and his brethren took care to get them.

Villon, to dress an old clownish father greybeard, who was to represent God
the father, begged of Friar Stephen Tickletoby, sacristan to the Franciscan
friars of the place, to lend him a cope and a stole.  Tickletoby refused
him, alleging that by their provincial statutes it was rigorously forbidden
to give or lend anything to players.  Villon replied that the statute
reached no farther than farces, drolls, antics, loose and dissolute games,
and that he asked no more than what he had seen allowed at Brussels and
other places.  Tickletoby notwithstanding peremptorily bid him provide
himself elsewhere if he would, and not to hope for anything out of his
monastical wardrobe.  Villon gave an account of this to the players, as of
a most abominable action; adding, that God would shortly revenge himself,
and make an example of Tickletoby.

The Saturday following he had notice given him that Tickletoby, upon the
filly of the convent--so they call a young mare that was never leaped yet
--was gone a-mumping to St. Ligarius, and would be back about two in the
afternoon.  Knowing this, he made a cavalcade of his devils of the Passion
through the town.  They were all rigged with wolves', calves', and rams'
skins, laced and trimmed with sheep's heads, bull's feathers, and large
kitchen tenterhooks, girt with broad leathern girdles, whereat hanged
dangling huge cow-bells and horse-bells, which made a horrid din.  Some
held in their claws black sticks full of squibs and crackers; others had
long lighted pieces of wood, upon which, at the corner of every street,
they flung whole handfuls of rosin-dust, that made a terrible fire and
smoke.  Having thus led them about, to the great diversion of the mob and
the dreadful fear of little children, he finally carried them to an
entertainment at a summer-house without the gate that leads to St.
Ligarius.

As they came near to the place, he espied Tickletoby afar off, coming home
from mumping, and told them in macaronic verse:

  Hic est de patria, natus, de gente belistra,
  Qui solet antiqua bribas portare bisacco. (Motteux reads:

  'Hic est mumpator natus de gente Cucowli,
  Qui solet antiquo Scrappas portare bisacco.')

A plague on his friarship, said the devils then; the lousy beggar would not
lend a poor cope to the fatherly father; let us fright him.  Well said,
cried Villon; but let us hide ourselves till he comes by, and then charge
him home briskly with your squibs and burning sticks.  Tickletoby being
come to the place, they all rushed on a sudden into the road to meet him,
and in a frightful manner threw fire from all sides upon him and his filly
foal, ringing and tingling their bells, and howling like so many real
devils, Hho, hho, hho, hho, brrou, rrou, rrourrs, rrrourrs, hoo, hou, hou
hho, hho, hhoi.  Friar Stephen, don't we play the devils rarely?  The filly
was soon scared out of her seven senses, and began to start, to funk it, to
squirt it, to trot it, to fart it, to bound it, to gallop it, to kick it,
to spurn it, to calcitrate it, to wince it, to frisk it, to leap it, to
curvet it, with double jerks, and bum-motions; insomuch that she threw down
Tickletoby, though he held fast by the tree of the pack-saddle with might
and main.  Now his straps and stirrups were of cord; and on the right side
his sandals were so entangled and twisted that he could not for the heart's
blood of him get out his foot.  Thus he was dragged about by the filly
through the road, scratching his bare breech all the way; she still
multiplying her kicks against him, and straying for fear over hedge and
ditch, insomuch that she trepanned his thick skull so that his cockle
brains were dashed out near the Osanna or high-cross.  Then his arms fell
to pieces, one this way and the other that way; and even so were his legs
served at the same time.  Then she made a bloody havoc with his puddings;
and being got to the convent, brought back only his right foot and twisted
sandal, leaving them to guess what was become of the rest.

Villon, seeing that things had succeeded as he intended, said to his
devils, You will act rarely, gentlemen devils, you will act rarely; I dare
engage you'll top your parts.  I defy the devils of Saumur, Douay,
Montmorillon, Langez, St. Espain, Angers; nay, by gad, even those of
Poictiers, for all their bragging and vapouring, to match you.

Thus, friends, said Basche, I foresee that hereafter you will act rarely
this tragical farce, since the very first time you have so skilfully
hampered, bethwacked, belammed, and bebumped the catchpole.  From this day
I double your wages.  As for you, my dear, said he to his lady, make your
gratifications as you please; you are my treasurer, you know.  For my part,
first and foremost, I drink to you all.  Come on, box it about; it is good
and cool.  In the second place, you, Mr. Steward, take this silver basin; I
give it you freely.  Then you, my gentlemen of the horse, take these two
silver-gilt cups, and let not the pages be horsewhipped these three months.
My dear, let them have my best white plumes of feathers, with the gold
buckles to them.  Sir Oudart, this silver flagon falls to your share; this
other I give to the cooks.  To the valets de chambre I give this silver
basket; to the grooms, this silver-gilt boat; to the porter, these two
plates; to the hostlers, these ten porringers.  Trudon, take you these
silver spoons and this sugar-box.  You, footman, take this large salt.
Serve me well, and I will remember you.  For, on the word of a gentleman, I
had rather bear in war one hundred blows on my helmet in the service of my
country than be once cited by these knavish catchpoles merely to humour
this same gorbellied prior.

A further account of catchpoles who were drubbed at Basche's house.

Four days after another young, long-shanked, raw-boned catchpole coming to
serve Basche with a writ at the fat prior's request, was no sooner at the
gate but the porter smelt him out and rung the bell; at whose second pull
all the family understood the mystery.  Loire was kneading his dough; his
wife was sifting meal; Oudart was toping in his office; the gentlemen were
playing at tennis; the Lord Basche at in-and-out with my lady; the
waiting-men and gentle-women at push-pin; the officers at lanterloo, and the
pages at hot-cockles, giving one another smart bangs.  They were all
immediately informed that a catchpole was housed.

Upon this Oudart put on his sacerdotal, and Loire and his wife their
nuptial badges; Trudon piped it, and then tabored it like mad; all made
haste to get ready, not forgetting the gauntlets.  Basche went into the
outward yard; there the catchpole meeting him fell on his marrow-bones,
begged of him not to take it ill if he served him with a writ at the suit
of the fat prior; and in a pathetic speech let him know that he was a
public person, a servant to the monking tribe, apparitor to the abbatial
mitre, ready to do as much for him, nay, for the least of his servants,
whensoever he would employ and use him.

Nay, truly, said the lord, you shall not serve your writ till you have
tasted some of my good Quinquenays wine, and been a witness to a wedding
which we are to have this very minute.  Let him drink and refresh himself,
added he, turning towards the levitical butler, and then bring him into the
hall.  After which, Catchpole, well stuffed and moistened, came with Oudart
to the place where all the actors in the farce stood ready to begin.  The
sight of their game set them a-laughing, and the messenger of mischief
grinned also for company's sake.  Then the mysterious words were muttered
to and by the couple, their hands joined, the bride bussed, and all
besprinkled with holy water.  While they were bringing wine and kickshaws,
thumps began to trot about by dozens.  The catchpole gave the levite
several blows.  Oudart, who had his gauntlet hid under his canonical shirt,
draws it on like a mitten, and then, with his clenched fist, souse he fell
on the catchpole and mauled him like a devil; the junior gauntlets dropped
on him likewise like so many battering rams.  Remember the wedding by this,
by that, by these blows, said they.  In short, they stroked him so to the
purpose that he pissed blood out at mouth, nose, ears, and eyes, and was
bruised, thwacked, battered, bebumped, and crippled at the back, neck,
breast, arms, and so forth.  Never did the bachelors at Avignon in carnival
time play more melodiously at raphe than was then played on the catchpole's
microcosm.  At last down he fell.

They threw a great deal of wine on his snout, tied round the sleeve of his
doublet a fine yellow and green favour, and got him upon his snotty beast,
and God knows how he got to L'Isle Bouchart; where I cannot truly tell you
whether he was dressed and looked after or no, both by his spouse and the
able doctors of the country; for the thing never came to my ears.

The next day they had a third part to the same tune, because it did not
appear by the lean catchpole's bag that he had served his writ.  So the fat
prior sent a new catchpole, at the head of a brace of bums for his garde du
corps, to summon my lord.  The porter ringing the bell, the whole family
was overjoyed, knowing that it was another rogue.  Basche was at dinner
with his lady and the gentlemen; so he sent for the catchpole, made him sit
by him, and the bums by the women, and made them eat till their bellies
cracked with their breeches unbuttoned.  The fruit being served, the
catchpole arose from table, and before the bums cited Basche.  Basche
kindly asked him for a copy of the warrant, which the other had got ready;
he then takes witness and a copy of the summons.  To the catchpole and his
bums he ordered four ducats for civility money.  In the meantime all were
withdrawn for the farce.  So Trudon gave the alarm with his tabor.  Basche
desired the catchpole to stay and see one of his servants married, and
witness the contract of marriage, paying him his fee.  The catchpole
slapdash was ready, took out his inkhorn, got paper immediately, and his
bums by him.

Then Loire came into the hall at one door, and his wife with the
gentlewomen at another, in nuptial accoutrements.  Oudart, in
pontificalibus, takes them both by their hands, asketh them their will,
giveth them the matrimonial blessing, and was very liberal of holy water.
The contract written, signed, and registered, on one side was brought wine
and comfits; on the other, white and orange-tawny-coloured favours were
distributed; on another, gauntlets privately handed about.

How the ancient custom at nuptials is renewed by the catchpole.

The catchpole, having made shift to get down a swingeing sneaker of Breton
wine, said to Basche, Pray, sir, what do you mean?  You do not give one
another the memento of the wedding.  By St. Joseph's wooden shoe, all good
customs are forgot.  We find the form, but the hare is scampered; and the
nest, but the birds are flown.  There are no true friends nowadays.  You
see how, in several churches, the ancient laudable custom of tippling on
account of the blessed saints O O, at Christmas, is come to nothing.  The
world is in its dotage, and doomsday is certainly coming all so fast.  Now
come on; the wedding, the wedding, the wedding; remember it by this.  This
he said, striking Basche and his lady; then her women and the levite.  Then
the tabor beat a point of war, and the gauntlets began to do their duty;
insomuch that the catchpole had his crown cracked in no less than nine
places.  One of the bums had his right arm put out of joint, and the other
his upper jaw-bone or mandibule dislocated so that it hid half his chin,
with a denudation of the uvula, and sad loss of the molar, masticatory, and
canine teeth.  Then the tabor beat a retreat; the gauntlets were carefully
hid in a trice, and sweetmeats afresh distributed to renew the mirth of the
company.  So they all drank to one another, and especially to the catchpole
and his bums.  But Oudart cursed and damned the wedding to the pit of hell,
complaining that one of the bums had utterly disincornifistibulated his
nether shoulder-blade.  Nevertheless, he scorned to be thought a flincher,
and made shift to tope to him on the square.

The jawless bum shrugged up his shoulders, joined his hands, and by signs
begged his pardon; for speak he could not.  The sham bridegroom made his
moan, that the crippled bum had struck him such a horrid thump with his
shoulder-of-mutton fist on the nether elbow that he was grown quite
esperruquanchuzelubelouzerireliced down to his very heel, to the no small
loss of mistress bride.

But what harm had poor I done? cried Trudon, hiding his left eye with his
kerchief, and showing his tabor cracked on one side; they were not
satisfied with thus poaching, black and bluing, and
morrambouzevezengouzequoquemorgasacbaquevezinemaffreliding my poor eyes,
but they have also broke my harmless drum.  Drums indeed are commonly
beaten at weddings, and it is fit they should; but drummers are well
entertained and never beaten.  Now let Beelzebub e'en take the drum, to
make his devilship a nightcap.  Brother, said the lame catchpole, never
fret thyself; I will make thee a present of a fine, large, old patent,
which I have here in my bag, to patch up thy drum, and for Madame St.
Ann's sake I pray thee forgive us.  By Our Lady of Riviere, the blessed
dame, I meant no more harm than the child unborn.  One of the equerries,
who, hopping and halting like a mumping cripple, mimicked the good limping
Lord de la Roche Posay, directed his discourse to the bum with the pouting
jaw, and told him:  What, Mr. Manhound, was it not enough thus to have
morcrocastebezasteverestegrigeligoscopapopondrillated us all in our upper
members with your botched mittens, but you must also apply such
morderegripippiatabirofreluchamburelurecaquelurintimpaniments on our
shinbones with the hard tops and extremities of your cobbled shoes.  Do
you call this children's play?  By the mass, 'tis no jest.  The bum,
wringing his hands, seemed to beg his pardon, muttering with his tongue,
Mon, mon, mon, vrelon, von, von, like a dumb man.  The bride crying
laughed, and laughing cried, because the catchpole was not satisfied with
drubbing her without choice or distinction of members, but had also rudely
roused and toused her, pulled off her topping, and not having the fear of
her husband before his eyes, treacherously
trepignemanpenillorifrizonoufresterfumbled tumbled and squeezed her lower
parts.  The devil go with it, said Basche; there was much need indeed that
this same Master King (this was the catchpole's name) should thus break my
wife's back; however, I forgive him now; these are little nuptial
caresses. But this I plainly perceive, that he cited me like an angel, and
drubbed me like a devil.  He had something in him of Friar Thumpwell.
Come, for all this, I must drink to him, and to you likewise, his trusty
esquires.  But, said his lady, why hath he been so very liberal of his
manual kindness to me, without the least provocation?  I assure you, I by
no means like it; but this I dare say for him, that he hath the hardest
knuckles that ever I felt on my shoulders.  The steward held his left arm
in a scarf, as if it had been rent and torn in twain.  I think it was the
devil, said he, that moved me to assist at these nuptials; shame on ill
luck; I must needs be meddling with a pox, and now see what I have got by
the bargain, both my arms are wretchedly engoulevezinemassed and bruised.
Do you call this a wedding?  By St. Bridget's tooth, I had rather be at
that of a Tom T--d-man.  This is, o' my word, even just such another feast
as was that of the Lapithae, described by the philosopher of Samosata.
One of the bums had lost his tongue.  The other two, tho' they had more
need to complain, made their excuse as well as they could, protesting that
they had no ill design in this dumbfounding; begging that, for goodness
sake, they would forgive them; and so, tho' they could hardly budge a
foot, or wag along, away they crawled.  About a mile from Basche's seat,
the catchpole found himself somewhat out of sorts.  The bums got to L'Isle
Bouchart, publicly saying that since they were born they had never seen an
honester gentleman than the Lord of Basche, or civiller people than his,
and that they had never been at the like wedding (which I verily believe);
but that it was their own faults if they had been tickled off, and tossed
about from post to pillar, since themselves had began the beating.  So
they lived I cannot exactly tell you how many days after this.  But from
that time to this it was held for a certain truth that Basche's money was
more pestilential, mortal, and pernicious to the catchpoles and bums than
were formerly the aurum Tholosanum and the Sejan horse to those that
possessed them.  Ever since this he lived quietly, and Basche's wedding
grew into a common proverb.

How Friar John made trial of the nature of the catchpoles.

This story would seem pleasant enough, said Pantagruel, were we not to have
always the fear of God before our eyes.  It had been better, said
Epistemon, if those gauntlets had fallen upon the fat prior.  Since he took
a pleasure in spending his money partly to vex Basche, partly to see those
catchpoles banged, good lusty thumps would have done well on his shaved
crown, considering the horrid concussions nowadays among those puny judges.
What harm had done those poor devils the catchpoles?  This puts me in mind,
said Pantagruel, of an ancient Roman named L. Neratius.  He was of noble
blood, and for some time was rich; but had this tyrannical inclination,
that whenever he went out of doors he caused his servants to fill their
pockets with gold and silver, and meeting in the street your spruce
gallants and better sort of beaux, without the least provocation, for his
fancy, he used to strike them hard on the face with his fist; and
immediately after that, to appease them and hinder them from complaining to
the magistrates, he would give them as much money as satisfied them
according to the law of the twelve tables.  Thus he used to spend his
revenue, beating people for the price of his money.  By St. Bennet's sacred
boot, quoth Friar John, I will know the truth of it presently.

This said, he went on shore, put his hand in his fob, and took out twenty
ducats; then said with a loud voice, in the hearing of a shoal of the
nation of catchpoles, Who will earn twenty ducats for being beaten like the
devil?  Io, Io, Io, said they all; you will cripple us for ever, sir, that
is most certain; but the money is tempting.  With this they were all
thronging who should be first to be thus preciously beaten.  Friar John
singled him out of the whole knot of these rogues in grain, a red-snouted
catchpole, who upon his right thumb wore a thick broad silver hoop, wherein
was set a good large toadstone.  He had no sooner picked him out from the
rest, but I perceived that they all muttered and grumbled; and I heard a
young thin-jawed catchpole, a notable scholar, a pretty fellow at his pen,
and, according to public report, much cried up for his honesty at Doctors'
Commons, making his complaint and muttering because this same crimson phiz
carried away all the practice, and that if there were but a score and a
half of bastinadoes to be got, he would certainly run away with eight and
twenty of them.  But all this was looked upon to be nothing but mere envy.

Friar John so unmercifully thrashed, thumped, and belaboured Red-snout,
back and belly, sides, legs, and arms, head, feet, and so forth, with the
home and frequently repeated application of one of the best members of a
faggot, that I took him to be a dead man; then he gave him the twenty
ducats, which made the dog get on his legs, pleased like a little king or
two.  The rest were saying to Friar John, Sir, sir, brother devil, if it
please you to do us the favour to beat some of us for less money, we are
all at your devilship's command, bags, papers, pens, and all.  Red-snout
cried out against them, saying, with a loud voice, Body of me, you little
prigs, will you offer to take the bread out of my mouth? will you take my
bargain over my head? would you draw and inveigle from me my clients and
customers?  Take notice, I summon you before the official this day
sevennight; I will law and claw you like any old devil of Vauverd, that I
will--Then turning himself towards Friar John, with a smiling and joyful
look, he said to him, Reverend father in the devil, if you have found me a
good hide, and have a mind to divert yourself once more by beating your
humble servant, I will bate you half in half this time rather than lose
your custom; do not spare me, I beseech you; I am all, and more than all,
yours, good Mr. Devil; head, lungs, tripes, guts, and garbage; and that at
a pennyworth, I'll assure you.  Friar John never heeded his proffers, but
even left them.  The other catchpoles were making addresses to Panurge,
Epistemon, Gymnast, and others, entreating them charitably to bestow upon
their carcasses a small beating, for otherwise they were in danger of
keeping a long fast; but none of them had a stomach to it.  Some time
after, seeking fresh water for the ship's company, we met a couple of old
female catchpoles of the place, miserably howling and weeping in concert.
Pantagruel had kept on board, and already had caused a retreat to be
sounded.  Thinking that they might be related to the catchpole that was
bastinadoed, we asked them the occasion of their grief.  They replied that
they had too much cause to weep; for that very hour, from an exalted triple
tree, two of the honestest gentlemen in Catchpole-land had been made to cut
a caper on nothing.  Cut a caper on nothing, said Gymnast; my pages use to
cut capers on the ground; to cut a caper on nothing should be hanging and
choking, or I am out.  Ay, ay, said Friar John; you speak of it like St.
John de la Palisse.

We asked them why they treated these worthy persons with such a choking
hempen salad.  They told us they had only borrowed, alias stolen, the tools
of the mass and hid them under the handle of the parish.  This is a very
allegorical way of speaking, said Epistemon.

How Pantagruel came to the islands of Tohu and Bohu; and of the strange
death of Wide-nostrils, the swallower of windmills.

That day Pantagruel came to the two islands of Tohu and Bohu, where the
devil a bit we could find anything to fry with.  For one Wide-nostrils,
a huge giant, had swallowed every individual pan, skillet, kettle,
frying-pan, dripping-pan, and brass and iron pot in the land, for want of
windmills, which were his daily food.  Whence it happened that somewhat
before day, about the hour of his digestion, the greedy churl was taken
very ill with a kind of a surfeit, or crudity of stomach, occasioned, as
the physicians said, by the weakness of the concocting faculty of his
stomach, naturally disposed to digest whole windmills at a gust, yet unable
to consume perfectly the pans and skillets; though it had indeed pretty
well digested the kettles and pots, as they said they knew by the
hypostases and eneoremes of four tubs of second-hand drink which he had
evacuated at two different times that morning.  They made use of divers
remedies, according to art, to give him ease; but all would not do; the
distemper prevailed over the remedies; insomuch that the famous
Wide-nostrils died that morning of so strange a death that I think you ought
no longer to wonder at that of the poet Aeschylus.  It had been foretold him
by the soothsayers that he would die on a certain day by the ruin of
something that should fall on him.  The fatal day being come in its turn, he
removed himself out of town, far from all houses, trees, (rocks,) or any
other things that can fall and endanger by their ruin; and strayed in a
large field, trusting himself to the open sky; there very secure, as he
thought, unless indeed the sky should happen to fall, which he held to be
impossible.  Yet they say that the larks are much afraid of it; for if it
should fall, they must all be taken.

The Celts that once lived near the Rhine--they are our noble valiant
French--in ancient times were also afraid of the sky's falling; for being
asked by Alexander the Great what they feared most in this world, hoping
well they would say that they feared none but him, considering his great
achievements, they made answer that they feared nothing but the sky's
falling; however, not refusing to enter into a confederacy with so brave a
king, if you believe Strabo, lib. 7, and Arrian, lib. I.

Plutarch also, in his book of the face that appears on the body of the
moon, speaks of one Phenaces, who very much feared the moon should fall on
the earth, and pitied those that live under that planet, as the Aethiopians
and Taprobanians, if so heavy a mass ever happened to fall on them, and
would have feared the like of heaven and earth had they not been duly
propped up and borne by the Atlantic pillars, as the ancients believed,
according to Aristotle's testimony, lib. 5, Metaphys.  Notwithstanding all
this, poor Aeschylus was killed by the fall of the shell of a tortoise,
which falling from betwixt the claws of an eagle high in the air, just on
his head, dashed out his brains.

Neither ought you to wonder at the death of another poet, I mean old jolly
Anacreon, who was choked with a grape-stone.  Nor at that of Fabius the
Roman praetor, who was choked with a single goat's hair as he was supping
up a porringer of milk.  Nor at the death of that bashful fool, who by
holding in his wind, and for want of letting out a bum-gunshot, died
suddenly in the presence of the Emperor Claudius.  Nor at that of the
Italian buried on the Via Flaminia at Rome, who in his epitaph complains
that the bite of a she-puss on his little finger was the cause of his
death.  Nor of that of Q. Lecanius Bassus, who died suddenly of so small a
prick with a needle on his left thumb that it could hardly be discerned.
Nor of Quenelault, a Norman physician, who died suddenly at Montpellier,
merely for having sideways took a worm out of his hand with a penknife.
Nor of Philomenes, whose servant having got him some new figs for the first
course of his dinner, whilst he went to fetch wine, a straggling well-hung
ass got into the house, and seeing the figs on the table, without further
invitation soberly fell to.  Philomenes coming into the room and nicely
observing with what gravity the ass ate its dinner, said to the man, who
was come back, Since thou hast set figs here for this reverend guest of
ours to eat, methinks it is but reason thou also give him some of this wine
to drink.  He had no sooner said this, but he was so excessively pleased,
and fell into so exorbitant a fit of laughter, that the use of his spleen
took that of his breath utterly away, and he immediately died.  Nor of
Spurius Saufeius, who died supping up a soft-boiled egg as he came out of a
bath.  Nor of him who, as Boccaccio tells us, died suddenly by picking his
grinders with a sage-stalk.  Nor of Phillipot Placut, who being brisk and
hale, fell dead as he was paying an old debt; which causes, perhaps, many
not to pay theirs, for fear of the like accident.  Nor of the painter
Zeuxis, who killed himself with laughing at the sight of the antique
jobbernowl of an old hag drawn by him.  Nor, in short, of a thousand more
of which authors write, as Varrius, Pliny, Valerius, J. Baptista Fulgosus,
and Bacabery the elder.  In short, Gaffer Wide-nostrils choked himself with
eating a huge lump of fresh butter at the mouth of a hot oven by the advice
of physicians.

They likewise told us there that the King of Cullan in Bohu had routed the
grandees of King Mecloth, and made sad work with the fortresses of Belima.

After this, we sailed by the islands of Nargues and Zargues; also by the
islands of Teleniabin and Geleniabin, very fine and fruitful in ingredients
for clysters; and then by the islands of Enig and Evig, on whose account
formerly the Landgrave of Hesse was swinged off with a vengeance.

How Pantagruel met with a great storm at sea.

The next day we espied nine sail that came spooning before the wind; they
were full of Dominicans, Jesuits, Capuchins, Hermits, Austins, Bernardins,
Egnatins, Celestins, Theatins, Amadeans, Cordeliers, Carmelites, Minims,
and the devil and all of other holy monks and friars, who were going to the
Council of Chesil, to sift and garble some new articles of faith against
the new heretics.  Panurge was overjoyed to see them, being most certain of
good luck for that day and a long train of others.  So having courteously
saluted the blessed fathers, and recommended the salvation of his precious
soul to their devout prayers and private ejaculations, he caused
seventy-eight dozen of Westphalia hams, units of pots of caviare, tens of
Bolonia sausages, hundreds of botargoes, and thousands of fine angels, for
the souls of the dead, to be thrown on board their ships.  Pantagruel seemed
metagrabolized, dozing, out of sorts, and as melancholic as a cat.  Friar
John, who soon perceived it, was inquiring of him whence should come this
unusual sadness; when the master, whose watch it was, observing the
fluttering of the ancient above the poop, and seeing that it began to
overcast, judged that we should have wind; therefore he bid the boatswain
call all hands upon deck, officers, sailors, foremast-men, swabbers, and
cabin-boys, and even the passengers; made them first settle their topsails,
take in their spritsail; then he cried, In with your topsails, lower the
foresail, tallow under parrels, braid up close all them sails, strike your
topmasts to the cap, make all sure with your sheeps-feet, lash your guns
fast.  All this was nimbly done.  Immediately it blowed a storm; the sea
began to roar and swell mountain-high; the rut of the sea was great, the
waves breaking upon our ship's quarter; the north-west wind blustered and
overblowed; boisterous gusts, dreadful clashing, and deadly scuds of wind
whistled through our yards and made our shrouds rattle again.  The thunder
grumbled so horridly that you would have thought heaven had been tumbling
about our ears; at the same time it lightened, rained, hailed; the sky lost
its transparent hue, grew dusky, thick, and gloomy, so that we had no other
light than that of the flashes of lightning and rending of the clouds.  The
hurricanes, flaws, and sudden whirlwinds began to make a flame about us by
the lightnings, fiery vapours, and other aerial ejaculations.  Oh, how our
looks were full of amazement and trouble, while the saucy winds did rudely
lift up above us the mountainous waves of the main!  Believe me, it seemed
to us a lively image of the chaos, where fire, air, sea, land, and all the
elements were in a refractory confusion.  Poor Panurge having with the full
contents of the inside of his doublet plentifully fed the fish, greedy
enough of such odious fare, sat on the deck all in a heap, with his nose and
arse together, most sadly cast down, moping and half dead; invoked and
called to his assistance all the blessed he- and she-saints he could muster
up; swore and vowed to confess in time and place convenient, and then bawled
out frightfully, Steward, maitre d'hotel, see ho! my friend, my father, my
uncle, prithee let us have a piece of powdered beef or pork; we shall drink
but too much anon, for aught I see.  Eat little and drink the more will
hereafter be my motto, I fear.  Would to our dear Lord, and to our blessed,
worthy, and sacred Lady, I were now, I say, this very minute of an hour,
well on shore, on terra firma, hale and easy.  O twice and thrice happy
those that plant cabbages!  O destinies, why did you not spin me for a
cabbage-planter?  O how few are there to whom Jupiter hath been so
favourable as to predestinate them to plant cabbages!  They have always one
foot on the ground, and the other not far from it.  Dispute who will of
felicity and summum bonum, for my part whosoever plants cabbages is now, by
my decree, proclaimed most happy; for as good a reason as the philosopher
Pyrrho, being in the same danger, and seeing a hog near the shore eating
some scattered oats, declared it happy in two respects; first, because it
had plenty of oats, and besides that, was on shore.  Ha, for a divine and
princely habitation, commend me to the cows' floor.

Murder!  This wave will sweep us away, blessed Saviour!  O my friends! a
little vinegar.  I sweat again with mere agony.  Alas! the mizen-sail's
split, the gallery's washed away, the masts are sprung, the
maintop-masthead dives into the sea; the keel is up to the sun; our shrouds
are almost all broke, and blown away.  Alas! alas! where is our main course?
Al is verlooren, by Godt! our topmast is run adrift.  Alas! who shall have
this wreck?  Friend, lend me here behind you one of these whales.  Your
lantern is fallen, my lads.  Alas! do not let go the main-tack nor the
bowline.  I hear the block crack; is it broke?  For the Lord's sake, let us
have the hull, and let all the rigging be damned.  Be, be, be, bous, bous,
bous.  Look to the needle of your compass, I beseech you, good Sir
Astrophil, and tell us, if you can, whence comes this storm.  My heart's
sunk down below my midriff.  By my troth, I am in a sad fright, bou, bou,
bou, bous, bous, I am lost for ever.  I conskite myself for mere madness and
fear.  Bou, bou, bou, bou, Otto to to to to ti.  Bou, bou, bou, ou, ou, ou,
bou, bou, bous.  I sink, I'm drowned, I'm gone, good people, I'm drowned.

What countenances Panurge and Friar John kept during the storm.

Pantagruel, having first implored the help of the great and Almighty
Deliverer, and prayed publicly with fervent devotion, by the pilot's advice
held tightly the mast of the ship.  Friar John had stripped himself to his
waistcoat, to help the seamen.  Epistemon, Ponocrates, and the rest did as
much.  Panurge alone sat on his breech upon deck, weeping and howling.
Friar John espied him going on the quarter-deck, and said to him, Odzoons!
Panurge the calf, Panurge the whiner, Panurge the brayer, would it not
become thee much better to lend us here a helping hand than to lie lowing
like a cow, as thou dost, sitting on thy stones like a bald-breeched
baboon?  Be, be, be, bous, bous, bous, returned Panurge; Friar John, my
friend, my good father, I am drowning, my dear friend!  I drown!  I am a
dead man, my dear father in God; I am a dead man, my friend; your cutting
hanger cannot save me from this; alas! alas! we are above ela.  Above the
pitch, out of tune, and off the hinges.  Be, be, be, bou, bous.  Alas! we
are now above g sol re ut.  I sink, I sink, ha, my father, my uncle, my
all.  The water is got into my shoes by the collar; bous, bous, bous,
paish, hu, hu, hu, he, he, he, ha, ha, I drown.  Alas! alas!  Hu, hu, hu,
hu, hu, hu, hu, be, be, bous, bous, bobous, bobous, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho,
alas! alas!  Now I am like your tumblers, my feet stand higher than my
head.  Would to heaven I were now with those good holy fathers bound for
the council whom we met this morning, so godly, so fat, so merry, so plump
and comely.  Holos, bolos, holas, holas, alas!  This devilish wave (mea
culpa Deus), I mean this wave of God, will sink our vessel.  Alas!  Friar
John, my father, my friend, confession.  Here I am down on my knees;
confiteor; your holy blessing.  Come hither and be damned, thou pitiful
devil, and help us, said Friar John (who fell a-swearing and cursing like a
tinker), in the name of thirty legions of black devils, come; will you
come?  Do not let us swear at this time, said Panurge; holy father, my
friend, do not swear, I beseech you; to-morrow as much as you please.
Holos, holos, alas! our ship leaks.  I drown, alas, alas!  I will give
eighteen hundred thousand crowns to anyone that will set me on shore, all
berayed and bedaubed as I am now.  If ever there was a man in my country in
the like pickle.  Confiteor, alas! a word or two of testament or codicil at
least.  A thousand devils seize the cuckoldy cow-hearted mongrel, cried
Friar John.  Ods-belly, art thou talking here of making thy will now we are
in danger, and it behoveth us to bestir our stumps lustily, or never?  Wilt
thou come, ho devil?  Midshipman, my friend; O the rare lieutenant; here
Gymnast, here on the poop.  We are, by the mass, all beshit now; our light
is out.  This is hastening to the devil as fast as it can.  Alas, bou, bou,
bou, bou, bou, alas, alas, alas, alas! said Panurge; was it here we were
born to perish?  Oh! ho! good people, I drown, I die.  Consummatum est.  I
am sped--Magna, gna, gna, said Friar John.  Fie upon him, how ugly the
shitten howler looks.  Boy, younker, see hoyh.  Mind the pumps or the devil
choke thee.  Hast thou hurt thyself?  Zoons, here fasten it to one of these
blocks.  On this side, in the devil's name, hay--so, my boy.  Ah, Friar
John, said Panurge, good ghostly father, dear friend, don't let us swear,
you sin.  Oh, ho, oh, ho, be be be bous, bous, bhous, I sink, I die, my
friends.  I die in charity with all the world.  Farewell, in manus.  Bohus
bohous, bhousowauswaus.  St. Michael of Aure!  St. Nicholas! now, now or
never, I here make you a solemn vow, and to our Saviour, that if you stand
by me this time, I mean if you set me ashore out of this danger, I will
build you a fine large little chapel or two, between Quande and Montsoreau,
where neither cow nor calf shall feed.  Oh ho, oh ho.  Above eighteen
pailfuls or two of it are got down my gullet; bous, bhous, bhous, bhous,
how damned bitter and salt it is!  By the virtue, said Friar John, of the
blood, the flesh, the belly, the head, if I hear thee again howling, thou
cuckoldy cur, I'll maul thee worse than any sea-wolf.  Ods-fish, why don't
we take him up by the lugs and throw him overboard to the bottom of the
sea?  Hear, sailor; ho, honest fellow.  Thus, thus, my friend, hold fast
above.  In truth, here is a sad lightning and thundering; I think that all
the devils are got loose; it is holiday with them; or else Madame
Proserpine is in child's labour:  all the devils dance a morrice.

How the pilots were forsaking their ships in the greatest stress of
weather.

Oh, said Panurge, you sin, Friar John, my former crony! former, I say, for
at this time I am no more, you are no more.  It goes against my heart to
tell it you; for I believe this swearing doth your spleen a great deal of
good; as it is a great ease to a wood-cleaver to cry hem at every blow, and
as one who plays at ninepins is wonderfully helped if, when he hath not
thrown his bowl right, and is like to make a bad cast, some ingenious
stander-by leans and screws his body halfway about on that side which the
bowl should have took to hit the pins.  Nevertheless, you offend, my sweet
friend.  But what do you think of eating some kind of cabirotadoes?
Wouldn't this secure us from this storm?  I have read that the ministers of
the gods Cabiri, so much celebrated by Orpheus, Apollonius, Pherecydes,
Strabo, Pausanias, and Herodotus were always secure in time of storm.  He
dotes, he raves, the poor devil!  A thousand, a million, nay, a hundred
million of devils seize the hornified doddipole.  Lend's a hand here, hoh,
tiger, wouldst thou?  Here, on the starboard side.  Ods-me, thou buffalo's
head stuffed with relics, what ape's paternoster art thou muttering and
chattering here between thy teeth?  That devil of a sea-calf is the cause
of all this storm, and is the only man who doth not lend a helping hand.
By G--, if I come near thee, I'll fetch thee out by the head and ears with
a vengeance, and chastise thee like any tempestative devil.  Here, mate, my
lad, hold fast, till I have made a double knot.  O brave boy!  Would to
heaven thou wert abbot of Talemouze, and that he that is were guardian of
Croullay.  Hold, brother Ponocrates, you will hurt yourself, man.
Epistemon, prithee stand off out of the hatchway.  Methinks I saw the
thunder fall there but just now.  Con the ship, so ho--Mind your steerage.
Well said, thus, thus, steady, keep her thus, get the longboat clear
--steady.  Ods-fish, the beak-head is staved to pieces.  Grumble, devils,
fart, belch, shite, a t--d o' the wave.  If this be weather, the devil's a
ram.  Nay, by G--, a little more would have washed me clear away into the
current.  I think all the legions of devils hold here their provincial
chapter, or are polling, canvassing, and wrangling for the election of a
new rector.  Starboard; well said.  Take heed; have a care of your noddle,
lad, in the devil's name.  So ho, starboard, starboard.  Be, be, be, bous,
bous, bous, cried Panurge; bous, bous, be, be, be, bous, bous, I am lost.
I see neither heaven nor earth; of the four elements we have here only fire
and water left.  Bou, bou, bou, bous, bous, bous.  Would it were the
pleasure of the worthy divine bounty that I were at this present hour in
the close at Seuille, or at Innocent's the pastry-cook over against the
painted wine-vault at Chinon, though I were to strip to my doublet, and
bake the petti-pasties myself.

Honest man, could not you throw me ashore? you can do a world of good
things, they say.  I give you all Salmigondinois, and my large shore full
of whelks, cockles, and periwinkles, if, by your industry, I ever set foot
on firm ground.  Alas, alas!  I drown.  Harkee, my friends, since we cannot
get safe into port, let us come to an anchor in some road, no matter
whither.  Drop all your anchors; let us be out of danger, I beseech you.
Here, honest tar, get you into the chains, and heave the lead, an't please
you.  Let us know how many fathom water we are in.  Sound, friend, in the
Lord Harry's name.  Let us know whether a man might here drink easily
without stooping.  I am apt to believe one might.  Helm a-lee, hoh, cried
the pilot.  Helm a-lee; a hand or two at the helm; about ships with her;
helm a-lee, helm a-lee.  Stand off from the leech of the sail.  Hoh! belay,
here make fast below; hoh, helm a-lee, lash sure the helm a-lee, and let
her drive.  Is it come to that? said Pantagruel; our good Saviour then help
us.  Let her lie under the sea, cried James Brahier, our chief mate; let
her drive.  To prayers, to prayers; let all think on their souls, and fall
to prayers; nor hope to escape but by a miracle.  Let us, said Panurge,
make some good pious kind of vow; alas, alas, alas! bou, bou, be, be, be,
bous, bous, bous, oho, oho, oho, oho, let us make a pilgrim; come, come,
let every man club his penny towards it, come on.  Here, here, on this
side, said Friar John, in the devil's name.  Let her drive, for the Lord's
sake unhang the rudder; hoh, let her drive, let her drive, and let us
drink, I say, of the best and most cheering; d'ye hear, steward? produce,
exhibit; for, d'ye see this, and all the rest will as well go to the devil
out of hand.  A pox on that wind-broker Aeolus, with his fluster-blusters.
Sirrah, page, bring me here my drawer (for so he called his breviary); stay
a little here; haul, friend, thus.  Odzoons, here is a deal of hail and
thunder to no purpose.  Hold fast above, I pray you.  When have we
All-saints day?  I believe it is the unholy holiday of all the devil's crew.
Alas! said Panurge, Friar John damns himself here as black as buttermilk
for the nonce.  Oh, what a good friend I lose in him.  Alas, alas! this is
another gats-bout than last year's.  We are falling out of Scylla into
Charybdis.  Oho! I drown.  Confiteor; one poor word or two by way of
testament, Friar John, my ghostly father; good Mr. Abstractor, my crony,
my Achates, Xenomanes, my all.  Alas! I drown; two words of testament here
upon this ladder.

A continuation of the storm, with a short discourse on the subject of
making testaments at sea.

To make one's last will, said Epistemon, at this time that we ought to
bestir ourselves and help our seamen, on the penalty of being drowned,
seems to me as idle and ridiculous a maggot as that of some of Caesar's
men, who, at their coming into the Gauls, were mightily busied in making
wills and codicils; bemoaned their fortune and the absence of their spouses
and friends at Rome, when it was absolutely necessary for them to run to
their arms and use their utmost strength against Ariovistus their enemy.

This also is to be as silly as that jolt-headed loblolly of a carter, who,
having laid his waggon fast in a slough, down on his marrow-bones was
calling on the strong-backed deity, Hercules, might and main, to help him
at a dead lift, but all the while forgot to goad on his oxen and lay his
shoulder to the wheels, as it behoved him; as if a Lord have mercy upon us
alone would have got his cart out of the mire.

What will it signify to make your will now? for either we shall come off or
drown for it.  If we 'scape, it will not signify a straw to us; for
testaments are of no value or authority but by the death of the testators.
If we are drowned, will it not be drowned too?  Prithee, who will transmit
it to the executors?  Some kind wave will throw it ashore, like Ulysses,
replied Panurge; and some king's daughter, going to fetch a walk in the
fresco, on the evening will find it, and take care to have it proved and
fulfilled; nay, and have some stately cenotaph erected to my memory, as
Dido had to that of her goodman Sichaeus; Aeneas to Deiphobus, upon the
Trojan shore, near Rhoete; Andromache to Hector, in the city of Buthrot;
Aristotle to Hermias and Eubulus; the Athenians to the poet Euripides; the
Romans to Drusus in Germany, and to Alexander Severus, their emperor, in
the Gauls; Argentier to Callaischre; Xenocrates to Lysidices; Timares to
his son Teleutagoras; Eupolis and Aristodice to their son Theotimus;
Onestus to Timocles; Callimachus to Sopolis, the son of Dioclides; Catullus
to his brother; Statius to his father; Germain of Brie to Herve, the Breton
tarpaulin.  Art thou mad, said Friar John, to run on at this rate?  Help,
here, in the name of five hundred thousand millions of cartloads of devils,
help! may a shanker gnaw thy moustachios, and the three rows of pock-royals
and cauliflowers cover thy bum and turd-barrel instead of breeches and
codpiece.  Codsooks, our ship is almost overset.  Ods-death, how shall we
clear her? it is well if she do not founder.  What a devilish sea there
runs!  She'll neither try nor hull; the sea will overtake her, so we shall
never 'scape; the devil 'scape me.  Then Pantagruel was heard to make a sad
exclamation, saying, with a loud voice, Lord save us, we perish; yet not as
we would have it, but thy holy will be done.  The Lord and the blessed
Virgin be with us, said Panurge.  Holos, alas, I drown; be be be bous, be
bous, bous; in manus.  Good heavens, send me some dolphin to carry me safe
on shore, like a pretty little Arion.  I shall make shift to sound the
harp, if it be not unstrung.  Let nineteen legions of black devils seize
me, said Friar John.  (The Lord be with us! whispered Panurge, between his
chattering teeth.)  If I come down to thee, I'll show thee to some purpose
that the badge of thy humanity dangles at a calf's breech, thou ragged,
horned, cuckoldy booby--mgna, mgnan, mgnan--come hither and help us, thou
great weeping calf, or may thirty millions of devils leap on thee.  Wilt
thou come, sea-calf?  Fie; how ugly the howling whelp looks.  What, always
the same ditty?  Come on now, my bonny drawer.  This he said, opening his
breviary.  Come forward, thou and I must be somewhat serious for a while;
let me peruse thee stiffly.  Beatus vir qui non abiit.  Pshaw, I know all
this by heart; let us see the legend of Mons. St. Nicholas.

  Horrida tempestas montem turbavit acutum.

Tempest was a mighty flogger of lads at Mountagu College.  If pedants be
damned for whipping poor little innocent wretches their scholars, he is,
upon my honour, by this time fixed within Ixion's wheel, lashing the
crop-eared, bobtailed cur that gives it motion.  If they are saved for
having whipped innocent lads, he ought to be above the--

An end of the storm.

Shore, shore! cried Pantagruel.  Land to, my friends, I see land!  Pluck up
a good spirit, boys, 'tis within a kenning.  So! we are not far from a
port.--I see the sky clearing up to the northwards.--Look to the
south-east!  Courage, my hearts, said the pilot; now she'll bear the hullock
of a sail; the sea is much smoother; some hands aloft to the maintop.  Put
the helm a-weather.  Steady! steady!  Haul your after-mizen bowlines.  Haul,
haul, haul!  Thus, thus, and no near.  Mind your steerage; bring your
main-tack aboard.  Clear your sheets; clear your bowlines; port, port.  Helm
a-lee.  Now to the sheet on the starboard side, thou son of a whore.  Thou
art mightily pleased, honest fellow, quoth Friar John, with hearing make
mention of thy mother.  Luff, luff, cried the quartermaster that conned the
ship, keep her full, luff the helm.  Luff.  It is, answered the steersman.
Keep her thus.  Get the bonnets fixed.  Steady, steady.

That is well said, said Friar John now, this is something like a tansy.
Come, come, come, children, be nimble.  Good.  Luff, luff, thus.  Helm
a-weather.  That's well said and thought on.  Methinks the storm is almost
over.  It was high time, faith; however, the Lord be thanked.  Our devils
begin to scamper.  Out with all your sails.  Hoist your sails.  Hoist.
That is spoke like a man, hoist, hoist.  Here, a God's name, honest
Ponocrates; thou art a lusty fornicator; the whoreson will get none but
boys.  Eusthenes, thou art a notable fellow.  Run up to the fore-topsail.
Thus, thus.  Well said, i' faith; thus, thus.  I dare not fear anything all
this while, for it is holiday.  Vea, vea, vea! huzza!  This shout of the
seaman is not amiss, and pleases me, for it is holiday.  Keep her full
thus.  Good.  Cheer up, my merry mates all, cried out Epistemon; I see
already Castor on the right.  Be, be, bous, bous, bous, said Panurge; I am
much afraid it is the bitch Helen.  It is truly Mixarchagenas, returned
Epistemon, if thou likest better that denomination, which the Argives give
him.  Ho, ho! I see land too; let her bear in with the harbour; I see a
good many people on the beach; I see a light on an obeliscolychny.  Shorten
your sails, said the pilot; fetch the sounding line; we must double that
point of land, and mind the sands.  We are clear of them, said the sailors.
Soon after, Away she goes, quoth the pilot, and so doth the rest of our
fleet; help came in good season.

By St. John, said Panurge, this is spoke somewhat like.  O the sweet word!
there is the soul of music in it.  Mgna, mgna, mgna, said Friar John; if
ever thou taste a drop of it, let the devil's dam taste me, thou ballocky
devil.  Here, honest soul, here's a full sneaker of the very best.  Bring
the flagons; dost hear, Gymnast: and that same large pasty jambic,
gammonic, as you will have it.  Take heed you pilot her in right.

Cheer up, cried out Pantagruel; cheer up, my boys; let us be ourselves
again.  Do you see yonder, close by our ship, two barks, three sloops, five
ships, eight pinks, four yawls, and six frigates making towards us, sent by
the good people of the neighbouring island to our relief?  But who is this
Ucalegon below, that cries and makes such a sad moan?  Were it not that I
hold the mast firmly with both my hands, and keep it straighter than two
hundred tacklings--I would--It is, said Friar John, that poor devil
Panurge, who is troubled with a calf's ague; he quakes for fear when his
belly's full.  If, said Pantagruel, he hath been afraid during this
dreadful hurricane and dangerous storm, provided (waiving that) he hath
done his part like a man, I do not value him a jot the less for it.  For as
to fear in all encounters is the mark of a heavy and cowardly heart, as
Agamemnon did, who for that reason is ignominiously taxed by Achilles with
having dog's eyes and a stag's heart; so, not to fear when the case is
evidently dreadful is a sign of want or smallness of judgment.  Now, if
anything ought to be feared in this life, next to offending God, I will not
say it is death.  I will not meddle with the disputes of Socrates and the
academics, that death of itself is neither bad nor to be feared, but I will
affirm that this kind of shipwreck is to be feared, or nothing is.  For, as
Homer saith, it is a grievous, dreadful, and unnatural thing to perish at
sea.  And indeed Aeneas, in the storm that took his fleet near Sicily, was
grieved that he had not died by the hand of the brave Diomedes, and said
that those were three, nay four times happy, who perished in the
conflagration at Troy.  No man here hath lost his life, the Lord our
Saviour be eternally praised for it! but in truth here is a ship sadly out
of order.  Well, we must take care to have the damage repaired.  Take heed
we do not run aground and bulge her.

How Panurge played the good fellow when the storm was over.

What cheer, ho, fore and aft? quoth Panurge.  Oh ho! all is well, the storm
is over.  I beseech ye, be so kind as to let me be the first that is sent
on shore; for I would by all means a little untruss a point.  Shall I help
you still?  Here, let me see, I will coil this rope; I have plenty of
courage, and of fear as little as may be.  Give it me yonder, honest tar.
No, no, I have not a bit of fear.  Indeed, that same decumane wave that
took us fore and aft somewhat altered my pulse.  Down with your sails; well
said.  How now, Friar John? you do nothing.  Is it time for us to drink
now?  Who can tell but St. Martin's running footman Belzebuth may still be
hatching us some further mischief?  Shall I come and help you again?  Pork
and peas choke me, if I do heartily repent, though too late, not having
followed the doctrine of the good philosopher who tells us that to walk by
the sea and to navigate by the shore are very safe and pleasant things;
just as 'tis to go on foot when we hold our horse by the bridle.  Ha! ha!
ha! by G--, all goes well.  Shall I help you here too?  Let me see, I will
do this as it should be, or the devil's in't.

Epistemon, who had the inside of one of his hands all flayed and bloody,
having held a tackling with might and main, hearing what Pantagruel had
said, told him:  You may believe, my lord, I had my share of fear as well
as Panurge; yet I spared no pains in lending my helping hand.  I considered
that, since by fatal and unavoidable necessity we must all die, it is the
blessed will of God that we die this or that hour, and this or that kind of
death.  Nevertheless, we ought to implore, invoke, pray, beseech, and
supplicate him; but we must not stop there; it behoveth us also to use our
endeavours on our side, and, as the holy writ saith, to co-operate with
him.

You know what C. Flaminius, the consul, said when by Hannibal's policy he
was penned up near the lake of Peruse, alias Thrasymene.  Friends, said he
to his soldiers, you must not hope to get out of this place barely by vows
or prayers to the gods; no, 'tis by fortitude and strength we must escape
and cut ourselves a way with the edge of our swords through the midst of
our enemies.

Sallust likewise makes M. Portius Cato say this:  The help of the gods is
not obtained by idle vows and womanish complaints; 'tis by vigilance,
labour, and repeated endeavours that all things succeed according to our
wishes and designs.  If a man in time of need and danger is negligent,
heartless, and lazy, in vain he implores the gods; they are then justly
angry and incensed against him.  The devil take me, said Friar John,--I'll
go his halves, quoth Panurge,--if the close of Seville had not been all
gathered, vintaged, gleaned, and destroyed, if I had only sung contra
hostium insidias (matter of breviary) like all the rest of the monking
devils, and had not bestirred myself to save the vineyard as I did,
despatching the truant picaroons of Lerne with the staff of the cross.

Let her sink or swim a God's name, said Panurge, all's one to Friar John;
he doth nothing; his name is Friar John Do-little; for all he sees me here
a-sweating and puffing to help with all my might this honest tar, first of
the name.--Hark you me, dear soul, a word with you; but pray be not angry.
How thick do you judge the planks of our ship to be?  Some two good inches
and upwards, returned the pilot; don't fear.  Ods-kilderkins, said Panurge,
it seems then we are within two fingers' breadth of damnation.

Is this one of the nine comforts of matrimony?  Ah, dear soul, you do well
to measure the danger by the yard of fear.  For my part, I have none on't;
my name is William Dreadnought.  As for heart, I have more than enough
on't.  I mean none of your sheep's heart; but of wolf's heart--the courage
of a bravo.  By the pavilion of Mars, I fear nothing but danger.

How Panurge was said to have been afraid without reason during the storm.

Good morrow, gentlemen, said Panurge; good morrow to you all; you are in
very good health, thanks to heaven and yourselves; you are all heartily
welcome, and in good time.  Let us go on shore.--Here, coxswain, get the
ladder over the gunnel; man the sides; man the pinnace, and get her by the
ship's side.  Shall I lend you a hand here?  I am stark mad for want of
business, and would work like any two yokes of oxen.  Truly this is a fine
place, and these look like a very good people.  Children, do you want me
still in anything? do not spare the sweat of my body, for God's sake.
Adam--that is, man--was made to labour and work, as the birds were made to
fly.  Our Lord's will is that we get our bread with the sweat of our brows,
not idling and doing nothing, like this tatterdemalion of a monk here, this
Friar Jack, who is fain to drink to hearten himself up, and dies for fear.
--Rare weather.--I now find the answer of Anacharsis, the noble philosopher,
very proper.  Being asked what ship he reckoned the safest, he replied:
That which is in the harbour.  He made a yet better repartee, said
Pantagruel, when somebody inquiring which is greater, the number of the
living or that of the dead, he asked them amongst which of the two they
reckoned those that are at sea, ingeniously implying that they are
continually in danger of death, dying alive, and living die.  Portius Cato
also said that there were but three things of which he would repent:  if
ever he had trusted his wife with his secret, if he had idled away a day,
and if he had ever gone by sea to a place which he could visit by land.  By
this dignified frock of mine, said Friar John to Panurge, friend, thou hast
been afraid during the storm without cause or reason; for thou wert not
born to be drowned, but rather to be hanged and exalted in the air, or to
be roasted in the midst of a jolly bonfire.  My lord, would you have a good
cloak for the rain; leave me off your wolf and badger-skin mantle; let
Panurge but be flayed, and cover yourself with his hide.  But do not come
near the fire, nor near your blacksmith's forges, a God's name; for in a
moment you will see it in ashes.  Yet be as long as you please in the rain,
snow, hail, nay, by the devil's maker, throw yourself or dive down to the
very bottom of the water, I'll engage you'll not be wet at all.  Have some
winter boots made of it, they'll never take in a drop of water; make
bladders of it to lay under boys to teach them to swim, instead of corks,
and they will learn without the least danger.  His skin, then, said
Pantagruel, should be like the herb called true maiden's hair, which never
takes wet nor moistness, but still keeps dry, though you lay it at the
bottom of the water as long as you please; and for that reason is called
Adiantos.

Friend Panurge, said Friar John, I pray thee never be afraid of water; thy
life for mine thou art threatened with a contrary element.  Ay, ay, replied
Panurge, but the devil's cooks dote sometimes, and are apt to make horrid
blunders as well as others; often putting to boil in water what was
designed to be roasted on the fire; like the head-cooks of our kitchen, who
often lard partridges, queests, and stock-doves with intent to roast them,
one would think; but it happens sometimes that they e'en turn the
partridges into the pot to be boiled with cabbages, the queests with leek
pottage, and the stock-doves with turnips.  But hark you me, good friends,
I protest before this noble company, that as for the chapel which I vowed
to Mons. St. Nicholas between Quande and Montsoreau, I honestly mean that
it shall be a chapel of rose-water, which shall be where neither cow nor
calf shall be fed; for between you and I, I intend to throw it to the
bottom of the water.  Here is a rare rogue for you, said Eusthenes; here is
a pure rogue, a rogue in grain, a rogue enough, a rogue and a half.  He is
resolved to make good the Lombardic proverb, Passato el pericolo, gabbato
el santo.

  The devil was sick, the devil a monk would be;
  The devil was well, the devil a monk was he.

How, after the storm, Pantagruel went on shore in the islands of the
Macreons.

Immediately after we went ashore at the port of an island which they called
the island of the Macreons.  The good people of the place received us very
honourably.  An old Macrobius (so they called their eldest elderman)
desired Pantagruel to come to the town-house to refresh himself and eat
something, but he would not budge a foot from the mole till all his men
were landed.  After he had seen them, he gave order that they should all
change clothes, and that some of all the stores in the fleet should be
brought on shore, that every ship's crew might live well; which was
accordingly done, and God wot how well they all toped and caroused.  The
people of the place brought them provisions in abundance.  The
Pantagruelists returned them more; as the truth is, theirs were somewhat
damaged by the late storm.  When they had well stuffed the insides of their
doublets, Pantagruel desired everyone to lend their help to repair the
damage; which they readily did.  It was easy enough to refit there; for all
the inhabitants of the island were carpenters and all such handicrafts as
are seen in the arsenal at Venice.  None but the largest island was
inhabited, having three ports and ten parishes; the rest being overrun with
wood and desert, much like the forest of Arden.  We entreated the old
Macrobius to show us what was worth seeing in the island; which he did; and
in the desert and dark forest we discovered several old ruined temples,
obelisks, pyramids, monuments, and ancient tombs, with divers inscriptions
and epitaphs; some of them in hieroglyphic characters; others in the Ionic
dialect; some in the Arabic, Agarenian, Slavonian, and other tongues; of
which Epistemon took an exact account.  In the interim, Panurge said to
Friar John, Is this the island of the Macreons?  Macreon signifies in Greek
an old man, or one much stricken in years.  What is that to me? said Friar
John; how can I help it?  I was not in the country when they christened it.
Now I think on't, quoth Panurge, I believe the name of mackerel (Motteux
adds, between brackets,--'that's a Bawd in French.') was derived from it;
for procuring is the province of the old, as buttock-riggling is that of
the young.  Therefore I do not know but this may be the bawdy or Mackerel
Island, the original and prototype of the island of that name at Paris.
Let's go and dredge for cock-oysters.  Old Macrobius asked, in the Ionic
tongue, How, and by what industry and labour, Pantagruel got to their port
that day, there having been such blustering weather and such a dreadful
storm at sea.  Pantagruel told him that the Almighty Preserver of mankind
had regarded the simplicity and sincere affection of his servants, who did
not travel for gain or sordid profit, the sole design of their voyage being
a studious desire to know, see, and visit the Oracle of Bacbuc, and take
the word of the Bottle upon some difficulties offered by one of the
company; nevertheless this had not been without great affliction and
evident danger of shipwreck.  After that, he asked him what he judged to be
the cause of that terrible tempest, and if the adjacent seas were thus
frequently subject to storms; as in the ocean are the Ratz of Sammaieu,
Maumusson, and in the Mediterranean sea the Gulf of Sataly, Montargentan,
Piombino, Capo Melio in Laconia, the Straits of Gibraltar, Faro di Messina,
and others.

How the good Macrobius gave us an account of the mansion and decease of the
heroes.

The good Macrobius then answered, Friendly strangers, this island is one of
the Sporades; not of your Sporades that lie in the Carpathian sea, but one
of the Sporades of the ocean; in former times rich, frequented, wealthy,
populous, full of traffic, and in the dominions of the rulers of Britain,
but now, by course of time, and in these latter ages of the world, poor and
desolate, as you see.  In this dark forest, above seventy-eight thousand
Persian leagues in compass, is the dwelling-place of the demons and heroes
that are grown old, and we believe that some one of them died yesterday;
since the comet which we saw for three days before together, shines no
more; and now it is likely that at his death there arose this horrible
storm; for while they are alive all happiness attends both this and the
adjacent islands, and a settled calm and serenity.  At the death of every
one of them, we commonly hear in the forest loud and mournful groans, and
the whole land is infested with pestilence, earthquakes, inundations, and
other calamities; the air with fogs and obscurity, and the sea with storms
and hurricanes.  What you tell us seems to me likely enough, said
Pantagruel.  For as a torch or candle, as long as it hath life enough and
is lighted, shines round about, disperses its light, delights those that
are near it, yields them its service and clearness, and never causes any
pain or displeasure; but as soon as 'tis extinguished, its smoke and
evaporation infects the air, offends the bystanders, and is noisome to all;
so, as long as those noble and renowned souls inhabit their bodies, peace,
profit, pleasure, and honour never leave the places where they abide; but
as soon as they leave them, both the continent and adjacent islands are
annoyed with great commotions; in the air fogs, darkness, thunder, hail;
tremblings, pulsations, agitations of the earth; storms and hurricanes at
sea; together with sad complaints amongst the people, broaching of
religions, changes in governments, and ruins of commonwealths.

We had a sad instance of this lately, said Epistemon, at the death of that
valiant and learned knight, William du Bellay; during whose life France
enjoyed so much happiness, that all the rest of the world looked upon it
with envy, sought friendship with it, and stood in awe of its power; but
soon after his decease it hath for a considerable time been the scorn of
the rest of the world.

Thus, said Pantagruel, Anchises being dead at Drepani in Sicily, Aeneas was
dreadfully tossed and endangered by a storm; and perhaps for the same
reason Herod, that tyrant and cruel King of Judaea, finding himself near
the pangs of a horrid kind of death--for he died of a phthiriasis, devoured
by vermin and lice; as before him died L. Sylla, Pherecydes the Syrian, the
preceptor of Pythagoras, the Greek poet Alcmaeon, and others--and
foreseeing that the Jews would make bonfires at his death, caused all the
nobles and magistrates to be summoned to his seraglio out of all the
cities, towns, and castles of Judaea, fraudulently pretending that he had
some things of moment to impart to them.  They made their personal
appearance; whereupon he caused them all to be shut up in the hippodrome of
the seraglio; then said to his sister Salome and Alexander her husband:  I
am certain that the Jews will rejoice at my death; but if you will observe
and perform what I tell you, my funeral shall be honourable, and there will
be a general mourning.  As soon as you see me dead, let my guards, to whom
I have already given strict commission to that purpose, kill all the
noblemen and magistrates that are secured in the hippodrome.  By these
means all Jewry shall, in spite of themselves, be obliged to mourn and
lament, and foreigners will imagine it to be for my death, as if some
heroic soul had left her body.  A desperate tyrant wished as much when he
said, When I die, let earth and fire be mixed together; which was as good
as to say, let the whole world perish.  Which saying the tyrant Nero
altered, saying, While I live, as Suetonius affirms it.  This detestable
saying, of which Cicero, lib. De Finib., and Seneca, lib. 2, De Clementia,
make mention, is ascribed to the Emperor Tiberius by Dion Nicaeus and
Suidas.

Pantagruel's discourse of the decease of heroic souls; and of the dreadful
prodigies that happened before the death of the late Lord de Langey.

I would not, continued Pantagruel, have missed the storm that hath thus
disordered us, were I also to have missed the relation of these things told
us by this good Macrobius.  Neither am I unwilling to believe what he said
of a comet that appears in the sky some days before such a decease.  For
some of those souls are so noble, so precious, and so heroic that heaven
gives us notice of their departing some days before it happens.  And as a
prudent physician, seeing by some symptoms that his patient draws towards
his end, some days before gives notice of it to his wife, children,
kindred, and friends, that, in that little time he hath yet to live, they
may admonish him to settle all things in his family, to tutor and instruct
his children as much as he can, recommend his relict to his friends in her
widowhood, and declare what he knows to be necessary about a provision for
the orphans; that he may not be surprised by death without making his will,
and may take care of his soul and family; in the same manner the heavens,
as it were joyful for the approaching reception of those blessed souls,
seem to make bonfires by those comets and blazing meteors, which they at
the same time kindly design should prognosticate to us here that in a few
days one of those venerable souls is to leave her body and this terrestrial
globe.  Not altogether unlike this was what was formerly done at Athens by
the judges of the Areopagus.  For when they gave their verdict to cast or
clear the culprits that were tried before them, they used certain notes
according to the substance of the sentences; by Theta signifying
condemnation to death; by T, absolution; by A, ampliation or a demur, when
the case was not sufficiently examined.  Thus having publicly set up those
letters, they eased the relations and friends of the prisoners, and such
others as desired to know their doom, of their doubts.  Likewise by these
comets, as in ethereal characters, the heavens silently say to us, Make
haste, mortals, if you would know or learn of the blessed souls anything
concerning the public good or your private interest; for their catastrophe
is near, which being past, you will vainly wish for them afterwards.

The good-natured heavens still do more; and that mankind may be declared
unworthy of the enjoyment of those renowned souls, they fright and astonish
us with prodigies, monsters, and other foreboding signs that thwart the
order of nature.

Of this we had an instance several days before the decease of the heroic
soul of the learned and valiant Chevalier de Langey, of whom you have
already spoken.  I remember it, said Epistemon; and my heart still trembles
within me when I think on the many dreadful prodigies that we saw five or
six days before he died.  For the Lords D'Assier, Chemant, one-eyed Mailly,
St. Ayl, Villeneufue-la-Guyart, Master Gabriel, physician of Savillan,
Rabelais, Cohuau, Massuau, Majorici, Bullou, Cercu, alias Bourgmaistre,
Francis Proust, Ferron, Charles Girard, Francis Bourre, and many other
friends and servants to the deceased, all dismayed, gazed on each other
without uttering one word; yet not without foreseeing that France would in
a short time be deprived of a knight so accomplished and necessary for its
glory and protection, and that heaven claimed him again as its due.  By the
tufted tip of my cowl, cried Friar John, I am e'en resolved to become a
scholar before I die.  I have a pretty good headpiece of my own, you must
own.  Now pray give me leave to ask you a civil question.  Can these same
heroes or demigods you talk of die?  May I never be damned if I was not so
much a lobcock as to believe they had been immortal, like so many fine
angels.  Heaven forgive me! but this most reverend father, Macroby, tells
us they die at last.  Not all, returned Pantagruel.

The Stoics held them all to be mortal, except one, who alone is immortal,
impassible, invisible.  Pindar plainly saith that there is no more thread,
that is to say, no more life, spun from the distaff and flax of the
hard-hearted Fates for the goddesses Hamadryades than there is for those
trees that are preserved by them, which are good, sturdy, downright oaks;
whence they derived their original, according to the opinion of Callimachus
and Pausanias in Phoci.  With whom concurs Martianus Capella.  As for the
demigods, fauns, satyrs, sylvans, hobgoblins, aegipanes, nymphs, heroes, and
demons, several men have, from the total sum, which is the result of the
divers ages calculated by Hesiod, reckoned their life to be 9720 years; that
sum consisting of four special numbers orderly arising from one, the same
added together and multiplied by four every way amounts to forty; these
forties, being reduced into triangles by five times, make up the total of
the aforesaid number.  See Plutarch, in his book about the Cessation of
Oracles.

This, said Friar John, is not matter of breviary; I may believe as little
or as much of it as you and I please.  I believe, said Pantagruel, that all
intellectual souls are exempted from Atropos's scissors.  They are all
immortal, whether they be of angels, or demons, or human; yet I will tell
you a story concerning this that is very strange, but is written and
affirmed by several learned historians.

How Pantagruel related a very sad story of the death of the heroes.

Epitherses, the father of Aemilian the rhetorician, sailing from Greece to
Italy in a ship freighted with divers goods and passengers, at night the
wind failed 'em near the Echinades, some islands that lie between the Morea
and Tunis, and the vessel was driven near Paxos.  When they were got
thither, some of the passengers being asleep, others awake, the rest eating
and drinking, a voice was heard that called aloud, Thamous! which cry
surprised them all.  This same Thamous was their pilot, an Egyptian by
birth, but known by name only to some few travellers.  The voice was heard
a second time calling Thamous, in a frightful tone; and none making answer,
but trembling and remaining silent, the voice was heard a third time, more
dreadful than before.

This caused Thamous to answer:  Here am I; what dost thou call me for?
What wilt thou have me do?  Then the voice, louder than before, bid him
publish when he should come to Palodes, that the great god Pan was dead.

Epitherses related that all the mariners and passengers, having heard this,
were extremely amazed and frighted; and that, consulting among themselves
whether they had best conceal or divulge what the voice had enjoined,
Thamous said his advice was that if they happened to have a fair wind they
should proceed without mentioning a word on't, but if they chanced to be
becalmed he would publish what he had heard.  Now when they were near
Palodes they had no wind, neither were they in any current.  Thamous then
getting up on the top of the ship's forecastle, and casting his eyes on the
shore, said that he had been commanded to proclaim that the great god Pan
was dead.  The words were hardly out of his mouth, when deep groans, great
lamentations, and doleful shrieks, not of one person, but of many together,
were heard from the land.

The news of this--many being present then--was soon spread at Rome;
insomuch that Tiberius, who was then emperor, sent for this Thamous, and
having heard him gave credit to his words.  And inquiring of the learned in
his court and at Rome who was that Pan, he found by their relation that he
was the son of Mercury and Penelope, as Herodotus and Cicero in his third
book of the Nature of the Gods had written before.

For my part, I understand it of that great Saviour of the faithful who was
shamefully put to death at Jerusalem by the envy and wickedness of the
doctors, priests, and monks of the Mosaic law.  And methinks my
interpretation is not improper; for he may lawfully be said in the Greek
tongue to be Pan, since he is our all.  For all that we are, all that we
live, all that we have, all that we hope, is him, by him, from him, and in
him.  He is the good Pan, the great shepherd, who, as the loving shepherd
Corydon affirms, hath not only a tender love and affection for his sheep,
but also for their shepherds.  At his death, complaints, sighs, fears, and
lamentations were spread through the whole fabric of the universe, whether
heavens, land, sea, or hell.

The time also concurs with this interpretation of mine; for this most good,
most mighty Pan, our only Saviour, died near Jerusalem during the reign of
Tiberius Caesar.

Pantagruel, having ended this discourse, remained silent and full of
contemplation.  A little while after we saw the tears flow out of his eyes
as big as ostrich's eggs.  God take me presently if I tell you one single
syllable of a lie in the matter.

How Pantagruel sailed by the Sneaking Island, where Shrovetide reigned.

The jovial fleet being refitted and repaired, new stores taken in, the
Macreons over and above satisfied and pleased with the money spent there by
Pantagruel, our men in better humour than they used to be, if possible, we
merrily put to sea the next day, near sunset, with a delicious fresh gale.

Xenomanes showed us afar off the Sneaking Island, where reigned Shrovetide,
of whom Pantagruel had heard much talk formerly; for that reason he would
gladly have seen him in person, had not Xenomanes advised him to the
contrary; first, because this would have been much out of our way, and then
for the lean cheer which he told us was to be found at that prince's court,
and indeed all over the island.

You can see nothing there for your money, said he, but a huge greedy-guts,
a tall woundy swallower of hot wardens and mussels; a long-shanked
mole-catcher; an overgrown bottler of hay; a mossy-chinned demi-giant, with
a double shaven crown, of lantern breed; a very great loitering noddy-peaked
youngster, banner-bearer to the fish-eating tribe, dictator of mustard-land,
flogger of little children, calciner of ashes, father and foster-father to
physicians, swarming with pardons, indulgences, and stations; a very honest
man; a good catholic, and as brimful of devotion as ever he can hold.

He weeps the three-fourth parts of the day, and never assists at any
weddings; but, give the devil his due, he is the most industrious
larding-stick and skewer-maker in forty kingdoms.

About six years ago, as I passed by Sneaking-land, I brought home a large
skewer from thence, and made a present of it to the butchers of Quande, who
set a great value upon them, and that for a cause.  Some time or other, if
ever we live to come back to our own country, I will show you two of them
fastened on the great church porch.  His usual food is pickled coats of
mail, salt helmets and head-pieces, and salt sallets; which sometimes makes
him piss pins and needles.  As for his clothing, 'tis comical enough o'
conscience, both for make and colour; for he wears grey and cold, nothing
before, and nought behind, with the sleeves of the same.

You will do me a kindness, said Pantagruel, if, as you have described his
clothes, food, actions, and pastimes, you will also give me an account of
his shape and disposition in all his parts.  Prithee do, dear cod, said
Friar John, for I have found him in my breviary, and then follow the
movable holy days.  With all my heart, answered Xenomanes; we may chance to
hear more of him as we touch at the Wild Island, the dominions of the squab
Chitterlings, his enemies, against whom he is eternally at odds; and were
it not for the help of the noble Carnival, their protector and good
neighbour, this meagre-looked lozelly Shrovetide would long before this
have made sad work among them, and rooted them out of their habitation.
Are these same Chitterlings, said Friar John, male or female, angels or
mortals, women or maids?  They are, replied Xenomanes, females in sex,
mortal in kind, some of them maids, others not.  The devil have me, said
Friar John, if I ben't for them.  What a shameful disorder in nature, is it
not, to make war against women?  Let's go back and hack the villain to
pieces.  What! meddle with Shrovetide? cried Panurge, in the name of
Beelzebub, I am not yet so weary of my life.  No, I'm not yet so mad as
that comes to.  Quid juris?  Suppose we should find ourselves pent up
between the Chitterlings and Shrovetide? between the anvil and the hammers?
Shankers and buboes! stand off! godzooks, let us make the best of our way.
I bid you good night, sweet Mr. Shrovetide; I recommend to you the
Chitterlings, and pray don't forget the puddings.

How Shrovetide is anatomized and described by Xenomanes.

As for the inward parts of Shrovetide, said Xenomanes; his brain is (at
least, it was in my time) in bigness, colours, substance, and strength,
much like the left cod of a he hand-worm.

The ventricles of his said brain,     The stomach, like a belt.
  like an auger.                      The pylorus, like a pitchfork.
The worm-like excrescence, like       The windpipe, like an oyster-
  a Christmas-box.                      knife.
The membranes, like a monk's          The throat, like a pincushion
  cowl.                                 stuffed with oakum.
The funnel, like a mason's chisel.    The lungs, like a prebend's
The fornix, like a casket.              fur-gown.
The glandula pinealis, like a bag-    The heart, like a cope.
  pipe.                               The mediastine, like an earthen
The rete mirabile, like a gutter.       cup.
The dug-like processus, like a        The pleura, like a crow's bill.
  patch.                              The arteries, like a watch-coat.
The tympanums, like a whirli-         The midriff, like a montero-cap.
  gig.                                The liver, like a double-tongued
The rocky bones, like a goose-          mattock.
  wing.                               The veins, like a sash-window.
The nape of the neck, like a paper    The spleen, like a catcall.
  lantern.                            The guts, like a trammel.
The nerves, like a pipkin.            The gall, like a cooper's adze.
The uvula, like a sackbut.            The entrails, like a gauntlet.
The palate, like a mitten.            The mesentery, like an abbot's
The spittle, like a shuttle.            mitre.
The almonds, like a telescope.        The hungry gut, like a button.
The bridge of his nose, like a        The blind gut, like a breastplate.
  wheelbarrow.                        The colon, like a bridle.
The head of the larynx, like a        The arse-gut, like a monk's
  vintage-basket.                       leathern bottle.
The kidneys, like a trowel.           The ligaments, like a tinker's
The loins, like a padlock.              budget.
The ureters, like a pothook.          The bones, like three-cornered
The emulgent veins, like two            cheesecakes.
  gilliflowers.                       The marrow, like a wallet.
The spermatic vessels, like a         The cartilages, like a field-
  cully-mully-puff.                           tortoise, alias a mole.
The parastata, like an inkpot.        The glandules in the mouth, like
The bladder, like a stone-bow.          a pruning-knife.
The neck, like a mill-clapper.        The animal spirits, like swingeing
The mirach, or lower parts of the       fisticuffs.
  belly, like a high-crowned hat.     The blood-fermenting, like a
The siphach, or its inner rind,         multiplication of flirts on the
  like a wooden cuff.                   nose.
The muscles, like a pair of bellows.  The urine, like a figpecker.
The tendons, like a hawking-          The sperm, like a hundred
  glove.                                ten-penny nails.

And his nurse told me, that being married to Mid-lent, he only begot a good
number of local adverbs and certain double fasts.

His memory he had like a scarf.       His undertakings, like the ballast
His common sense, like a buzzing        of a galleon.
  of bees.                            His understanding, like a torn
His imagination, like the chime         breviary.
  of a set of bells.                  His notions, like snails crawling
His thoughts, like a flight of star-    out of strawberries.
  lings.                              His will, like three filberts in a
His conscience, like the unnest-        porringer.
  ling of a parcel of young           His desire, like six trusses of hay.
  herons.                             His judgment, like a shoeing-
His deliberations, like a set of        horn.
  organs.                             His discretion, like the truckle of
His repentance, like the carriage       a pulley.
  of a double cannon.                 His reason, like a cricket.

Shrovetide's outward parts anatomized.

Shrovetide, continued Xenomanes, is somewhat better proportioned in his
outward parts, excepting the seven ribs which he had over and above the
common shape of men.

His toes were like a virginal on     The peritoneum, or caul wherein
  an organ.                            his bowels were wrapped, like
His nails, like a gimlet.              a billiard-table.
His feet, like a guitar.             His back, like an overgrown rack-
His heels, like a club.                bent crossbow.
The soles of his feet, like a cru-   The vertebrae, or joints of his
  cible.                               backbone, like a bagpipe.
His legs, like a hawk's lure.        His ribs, like a spinning-wheel.
His knees, like a joint-stool.       His brisket, like a canopy.
His thighs, like a steel cap.        His shoulder-blades, like a mortar.
His hips, like a wimble.             His breast, like a game at nine-
His belly as big as a tun, buttoned    pins.
  after the old fashion, with a      His paps, like a hornpipe.
  girdle riding over the middle      His armpits, like a chequer.
  of his bosom.                      His shoulders, like a hand-barrow.
His navel, like a cymbal.            His arms, like a riding-hood.
His groin, like a minced pie.        His fingers, like a brotherhood's
His member, like a slipper.            andirons.
His purse, like an oil cruet.        The fibulae, or lesser bones of his
His genitals, like a joiner's planer.  legs, like a pair of stilts.
Their erecting muscles, like a       His shin-bones, like sickles.
  racket.                            His elbows, like a mouse-trap.
The perineum, like a flageolet.      His hands, like a curry-comb.
His arse-hole, like a crystal look-  His neck, like a talboy.
  ing-glass.                         His throat, like a felt to distil hip-
His bum, like a harrow.                pocras.
The knob in his throat, like a       His loins, like a butter-pot.
  barrel, where hanged two           His jaws, like a caudle cup.
  brazen wens, very fine and         His teeth, like a hunter's staff.
  harmonious, in the shape of an       Of such colt's teeth as his,
  hourglass.                           you will find one at Colonges
His beard, like a lantern.             les Royaux in Poitou, and
His chin, like a mushroom.             two at La Brosse in Xaintonge,
His ears, like a pair of gloves.       on the cellar door.
His nose, like a buskin.             His tongue, like a jew's-harp.
His nostrils, like a forehead cloth. His mouth, like a horse-cloth.
His eyebrows, like a dripping-pan.   His face embroidered like a mule's
On his left brow was a mark of         pack-saddle.
  the shape and bigness of an        His head contrived like a still.
  urinal.                            His skull, like a pouch.
His eyelids, like a fiddle.          The suturae, or seams of his skull,
His eyes, like a comb-box.             like the annulus piscatoris, or
His optic nerves, like a tinder-       the fisher's signet.
  box.                               His skin, like a gabardine.
His forehead, like a false cup.      His epidermis, or outward skin,
His temples, like the cock of a        like a bolting-cloth.
  cistern.                           His hair, like a scrubbing-brush.
His cheeks, like a pair of wooden    His fur, such as above said.
  shoes.

A continuation of Shrovetide's countenance.

'Tis a wonderful thing, continued Xenomanes, to hear and see the state of
Shrovetide.

If he chanced to spit, it was whole  When he trembled, it was large
  basketsful of goldfinches.           venison pasties.
If he blowed his nose, it was        When he did sweat, it was old
  pickled grigs.                       ling with butter sauce.
When he wept, it was ducks with      When he belched, it was bushels
  onion sauce.                         of oysters.
When he sneezed, it was whole        When he muttered, it was lawyers'
  tubfuls of mustard.                  revels.
When he coughed, it was boxes        When he hopped about, it was
  of marmalade.                        letters of licence and protec-
When he sobbed, it was water-          tions.
  cresses.                           When he stepped back, it was
When he yawned, it was potfuls         sea cockle-shells.
  of pickled peas.                   When he slabbered, it was com-
When he sighed, it was dried           mon ovens.
  neats' tongues.                    When he was hoarse, it was an
When he whistled, it was a whole       entry of morrice-dancers.
  scuttleful of green apes.          When he broke wind, it was dun
When he snored, it was a whole         cows' leather spatterdashes.
  panful of fried beans.             When he funked, it was washed-
When he frowned, it was soused         leather boots.
  hogs' feet.                        When he scratched himself, it
When he spoke, it was coarse           was new proclamations.
  brown russet cloth; so little      When he sung, it was peas in
  it was like crimson silk, with       cods.
  which Parisatis desired that       When he evacuated, it was mush-
  the words of such as spoke to        rooms and morilles.
  her son Cyrus, King of Persia,     When he puffed, it was cabbages
  should be interwoven.                with oil, alias caules amb'olif.
When he blowed, it was indulg-       When he talked, it was the last
  ence money-boxes.                    year's snow.
When he winked, it was buttered      When he dreamt, it was of a
  buns.                                cock and a bull.
When he grumbled, it was March       When he gave nothing, so much
  cats.                                for the bearer.
When he nodded, it was iron-         If he thought to himself, it was
  bound waggons.                       whimsies and maggots.
When he made mouths, it was          If he dozed, it was leases of lands.
  broken staves.

What is yet more strange, he used to work doing nothing, and did nothing
though he worked; caroused sleeping, and slept carousing, with his eyes
open, like the hares in our country, for fear of being taken napping by the
Chitterlings, his inveterate enemies; biting he laughed, and laughing bit;
eat nothing fasting, and fasted eating nothing; mumbled upon suspicion,
drank by imagination, swam on the tops of high steeples, dried his clothes
in ponds and rivers, fished in the air, and there used to catch decumane
lobsters; hunted at the bottom of the herring-pond, and caught there
ibexes, stamboucs, chamois, and other wild goats; used to put out the eyes
of all the crows which he took sneakingly; feared nothing but his own
shadow and the cries of fat kids; used to gad abroad some days, like a
truant schoolboy; played with the ropes of bells on festival days of
saints; made a mallet of his fist, and writ on hairy parchment
prognostications and almanacks with his huge pin-case.

Is that the gentleman? said Friar John.  He is my man; this is the very
fellow I looked for.  I will send him a challenge immediately.  This is,
said Pantagruel, a strange and monstrous sort of man, if I may call him a
man.  You put me in mind of the form and looks of Amodunt and Dissonance.
How were they made? said Friar John.  May I be peeled like a raw onion if
ever I heard a word of them.  I'll tell you what I read of them in some
ancient apologues, replied Pantagruel.

Physis--that is to say, Nature--at her first burthen begat Beauty and
Harmony without carnal copulation, being of herself very fruitful and
prolific.  Antiphysis, who ever was the counter part of Nature,
immediately, out of a malicious spite against her for her beautiful and
honourable productions, in opposition begot Amodunt and Dissonance by
copulation with Tellumon.  Their heads were round like a football, and not
gently flatted on both sides, like the common shape of men.  Their ears
stood pricked up like those of asses; their eyes, as hard as those of
crabs, and without brows, stared out of their heads, fixed on bones like
those of our heels; their feet were round like tennis-balls; their arms and
hands turned backwards towards their shoulders; and they walked on their
heads, continually turning round like a ball, topsy-turvy, heels over head.

Yet--as you know that apes esteem their young the handsomest in the world
--Antiphysis extolled her offspring, and strove to prove that their shape
was handsomer and neater than that of the children of Physis, saying that
thus to have spherical heads and feet, and walk in a circular manner,
wheeling round, had something in it of the perfection of the divine power,
which makes all beings eternally turn in that fashion; and that to have our
feet uppermost, and the head below them, was to imitate the Creator of the
universe; the hair being like the roots, and the legs like the branches of
man; for trees are better planted by their roots than they could be by their
branches.  By this demonstration she implied that her children were much
more to be praised for being like a standing tree, than those of Physis,
that made a figure of a tree upside down.  As for the arms and hands, she
pretended to prove that they were more justly turned towards the shoulders,
because that part of the body ought not to be without defence, while the
forepart is duly fenced with teeth, which a man cannot only use to chew, but
also to defend himself against those things that offend him. Thus, by the
testimony and astipulation of the brute beasts, she drew all the witless
herd and mob of fools into her opinion, and was admired by all brainless and
nonsensical people.

Since that, she begot the hypocritical tribes of eavesdropping dissemblers,
superstitious pope-mongers, and priest-ridden bigots, the frantic
Pistolets, (the demoniacal Calvins, impostors of Geneva,) the scrapers of
benefices, apparitors with the devil in them, and other grinders and
squeezers of livings, herb-stinking hermits, gulligutted dunces of the
cowl, church vermin, false zealots, devourers of the substance of men, and
many more other deformed and ill-favoured monsters, made in spite of
nature.

How Pantagruel discovered a monstrous physeter, or whirlpool, near the Wild
Island.

About sunset, coming near the Wild Island, Pantagruel spied afar off a huge
monstrous physeter (a sort of whale, which some call a whirlpool), that
came right upon us, neighing, snorting, raised above the waves higher than
our main-tops, and spouting water all the way into the air before itself,
like a large river falling from a mountain.  Pantagruel showed it to the
pilot and to Xenomanes.

By the pilot's advice the trumpets of the Thalamege were sounded to warn
all the fleet to stand close and look to themselves.  This alarm being
given, all the ships, galleons, frigates, brigantines, according to their
naval discipline, placed themselves in the order and figure of an Y
(upsilon), the letter of Pythagoras, as cranes do in their flight, and like
an acute angle, in whose cone and basis the Thalamege placed herself ready
to fight smartly.  Friar John with the grenadiers got on the forecastle.

Poor Panurge began to cry and howl worse than ever.  Babille-babou, said
he, shrugging up his shoulders, quivering all over with fear, there will be
the devil upon dun.  This is a worse business than that t'other day.  Let
us fly, let us fly; old Nick take me if it is not Leviathan, described by
the noble prophet Moses in the life of patient Job.  It will swallow us
all, ships and men, shag, rag, and bobtail, like a dose of pills.  Alas! it
will make no more of us, and we shall hold no more room in its hellish
jaws, than a sugarplum in an ass's throat.  Look, look, 'tis upon us; let
us wheel off, whip it away, and get ashore.  I believe 'tis the very
individual sea-monster that was formerly designed to devour Andromeda; we
are all undone.  Oh! for some valiant Perseus here now to kill the dog.

I'll do its business presently, said Pantagruel; fear nothing.  Ods-belly,
said Panurge, remove the cause of my fear then.  When the devil would you
have a man be afraid but when there is so much cause?  If your destiny be
such as Friar John was saying a while ago, replied Pantagruel, you ought to
be afraid of Pyroeis, Eous, Aethon, and Phlegon, the sun's coach-horses,
that breathe fire at the nostrils; and not of physeters, that spout nothing
but water at the snout and mouth.  Their water will not endanger your life;
and that element will rather save and preserve than hurt or endanger you.

Ay, ay, trust to that, and hang me, quoth Panurge; yours is a very pretty
fancy.  Ods-fish! did I not give you a sufficient account of the elements'
transmutation, and the blunders that are made of roast for boiled, and
boiled for roast?  Alas! here 'tis; I'll go hide myself below.  We are dead
men, every mother's son of us.  I see upon our main-top that merciless hag
Atropos, with her scissors new ground, ready to cut our threads all at one
snip.  Oh! how dreadful and abominable thou art; thou hast drowned a good
many beside us, who never made their brags of it.  Did it but spout good,
brisk, dainty, delicious white wine, instead of this damned bitter salt
water, one might better bear with it, and there would be some cause to be
patient; like that English lord, who being doomed to die, and had leave to
choose what kind of death he would, chose to be drowned in a butt of
malmsey.  Here it is.  Oh, oh! devil!  Sathanas!  Leviathan!  I cannot
abide to look upon thee, thou art so abominably ugly.  Go to the bar, go
take the pettifoggers.

How the monstrous physeter was slain by Pantagruel.

The physeter, coming between the ships and the galleons, threw water by
whole tuns upon them, as if it had been the cataracts of the Nile in
Ethiopia.  On the other side, arrows, darts, gleaves, javelins, spears,
harping-irons, and partizans, flew upon it like hail.  Friar John did not
spare himself in it.  Panurge was half dead for fear.  The artillery roared
and thundered like mad, and seemed to gall it in good earnest, but did but
little good; for the great iron and brass cannon-shot entering its skin
seemed to melt like tiles in the sun.

Pantagruel then, considering the weight and exigency of the matter,
stretched out his arms and showed what he could do.  You tell us, and it is
recorded, that Commudus, the Roman emperor, could shoot with a bow so
dexterously that at a good distance he would let fly an arrow through a
child's fingers and never touch them.  You also tell us of an Indian
archer, who lived when Alexander the Great conquered India, and was so
skilful in drawing the bow, that at a considerable distance he would shoot
his arrows through a ring, though they were three cubits long, and their
iron so large and weighty that with them he used to pierce steel cutlasses,
thick shields, steel breastplates, and generally what he did hit, how firm,
resisting, hard, and strong soever it were.  You also tell us wonders of
the industry of the ancient Franks, who were preferred to all others in
point of archery; and when they hunted either black or dun beasts, used to
rub the head of their arrows with hellebore, because the flesh of the
venison struck with such an arrow was more tender, dainty, wholesome, and
delicious--paring off, nevertheless, the part that was touched round about.
You also talk of the Parthians, who used to shoot backwards more
dexterously than other nations forwards; and also celebrate the skill of
the Scythians in that art, who sent once to Darius, King of Persia, an
ambassador that made him a present of a bird, a frog, a mouse, and five
arrows, without speaking one word; and being asked what those presents
meant, and if he had commission to say anything, answered that he had not;
which puzzled and gravelled Darius very much, till Gobrias, one of the
seven captains that had killed the magi, explained it, saying to Darius:
By these gifts and offerings the Scythians silently tell you that except
the Persians like birds fly up to heaven, or like mice hide themselves near
the centre of the earth, or like frogs dive to the very bottom of ponds and
lakes, they shall be destroyed by the power and arrows of the Scythians.

The noble Pantagruel was, without comparison, more admirable yet in the art
of shooting and darting; for with his dreadful piles and darts, nearly
resembling the huge beams that support the bridges of Nantes, Saumur,
Bergerac, and at Paris the millers' and the changers' bridges, in length,
size, weight, and iron-work, he at a mile's distance would open an oyster
and never touch the edges; he would snuff a candle without putting it out;
would shoot a magpie in the eye; take off a boot's under-sole, or a
riding-hood's lining, without soiling them a bit; turn over every leaf
of Friar John's breviary, one after another, and not tear one.

With such darts, of which there was good store in the ship, at the first
blow he ran the physeter in at the forehead so furiously that he pierced
both its jaws and tongue; so that from that time to this it no more opened
its guttural trapdoor, nor drew and spouted water.  At the second blow he
put out its right eye, and at the third its left; and we had all the
pleasure to see the physeter bearing those three horns in its forehead,
somewhat leaning forwards in an equilateral triangle.

Meanwhile it turned about to and fro, staggering and straying like one
stunned, blinded, and taking his leave of the world.  Pantagruel, not
satisfied with this, let fly another dart, which took the monster under the
tail likewise sloping; then with three other on the chine, in a
perpendicular line, divided its flank from the tail to the snout at an
equal distance.  Then he larded it with fifty on one side, and after that,
to make even work, he darted as many on its other side; so that the body of
the physeter seemed like the hulk of a galleon with three masts, joined by
a competent dimension of its beams, as if they had been the ribs and
chain-wales of the keel; which was a pleasant sight.  The physeter then
giving up the ghost, turned itself upon its back, as all dead fishes do; and
being thus overturned, with the beams and darts upside down in the sea, it
seemed a scolopendra or centipede, as that serpent is described by the
ancient sage Nicander.

How Pantagruel went on shore in the Wild Island, the ancient abode of the
Chitterlings.

The boat's crew of the ship Lantern towed the physeter ashore on the
neighbouring shore, which happened to be the Wild Island, to make an
anatomical dissection of its body and save the fat of its kidneys, which,
they said, was very useful and necessary for the cure of a certain
distemper, which they called want of money.  As for Pantagruel, he took no
manner of notice of the monster; for he had seen many such, nay, bigger, in
the Gallic ocean.  Yet he condescended to land in the Wild Island, to dry
and refresh some of his men (whom the physeter had wetted and bedaubed), at
a small desert seaport towards the south, seated near a fine pleasant
grove, out of which flowed a delicious brook of fresh, clear, and purling
water.  Here they pitched their tents and set up their kitchens; nor did
they spare fuel.

Everyone having shifted as they thought fit, Friar John rang the bell, and
the cloth was immediately laid, and supper brought in.  Pantagruel eating
cheerfully with his men, much about the second course perceived certain
little sly Chitterlings clambering up a high tree near the pantry, as still
as so many mice.  Which made him ask Xenomanes what kind of creatures these
were, taking them for squirrels, weasels, martins, or ermines.  They are
Chitterlings, replied Xenomanes.  This is the Wild Island of which I spoke
to you this morning; there hath been an irreconcilable war this long time
between them and Shrovetide, their malicious and ancient enemy.  I believe
that the noise of the guns which we fired at the physeter hath alarmed
them, and made them fear their enemy was come with his forces to surprise
them, or lay the island waste, as he hath often attempted to do; though he
still came off but bluely, by reason of the care and vigilance of the
Chitterlings, who (as Dido said to Aeneas's companions that would have
landed at Carthage without her leave or knowledge) were forced to watch and
stand upon their guard, considering the malice of their enemy and the
neighbourhood of his territories.

Pray, dear friend, said Pantagruel, if you find that by some honest means
we may bring this war to an end, and reconcile them together, give me
notice of it; I will use my endeavours in it with all my heart, and spare
nothing on my side to moderate and accommodate the points in dispute
between both parties.

That's impossible at this time, answered Xenomanes.  About four years ago,
passing incognito by this country, I endeavoured to make a peace, or at
least a long truce among them; and I had certainly brought them to be good
friends and neighbours if both one and the other parties would have yielded
to one single article.  Shrovetide would not include in the treaty of peace
the wild puddings nor the highland sausages, their ancient gossips and
confederates.  The Chitterlings demanded that the fort of Cacques might be
under their government, as is the Castle of Sullouoir, and that a parcel of
I don't know what stinking villains, murderers, robbers, that held it then,
should be expelled.  But they could not agree in this, and the terms that
were offered seemed too hard to either party.  So the treaty broke off, and
nothing was done.  Nevertheless, they became less severe, and gentler
enemies than they were before; but since the denunciation of the national
Council of Chesil, whereby they were roughly handled, hampered, and cited;
whereby also Shrovetide was declared filthy, beshitten, and berayed, in
case he made any league or agreement with them; they are grown wonderfully
inveterate, incensed, and obstinate against one another, and there is no
way to remedy it.  You might sooner reconcile cats and rats, or hounds and
hares together.

How the wild Chitterlings laid an ambuscado for Pantagruel.

While Xenomanes was saying this, Friar John spied twenty or thirty young
slender-shaped Chitterlings posting as fast as they could towards their
town, citadel, castle, and fort of Chimney, and said to Pantagruel, I smell
a rat; there will be here the devil upon two sticks, or I am much out.
These worshipful Chitterlings may chance to mistake you for Shrovetide,
though you are not a bit like him.  Let us once in our lives leave our
junketing for a while, and put ourselves in a posture to give 'em a
bellyful of fighting, if they would be at that sport.  There can be no
false Latin in this, said Xenomanes; Chitterlings are still Chitterlings,
always double-hearted and treacherous.

Pantagruel then arose from table to visit and scour the thicket, and
returned presently; having discovered, on the left, an ambuscade of squab
Chitterlings; and on the right, about half a league from thence, a large
body of huge giant-like armed Chitterlings ranged in battalia along a
little hill, and marching furiously towards us at the sound of bagpipes,
sheep's paunches, and bladders, the merry fifes and drums, trumpets, and
clarions, hoping to catch us as Moss caught his mare.  By the conjecture of
seventy-eight standards which we told, we guessed their number to be two
and forty thousand, at a modest computation.

Their order, proud gait, and resolute looks made us judge that they were
none of your raw, paltry links, but old warlike Chitterlings and Sausages.
From the foremost ranks to the colours they were all armed cap-a-pie with
small arms, as we reckoned them at a distance, yet very sharp and
case-hardened.  Their right and left wings were lined with a great number of
forest puddings, heavy pattipans, and horse sausages, all of them tall and
proper islanders, banditti, and wild.

Pantagruel was very much daunted, and not without cause; though Epistemon
told him that it might be the use and custom of the Chitterlingonians to
welcome and receive thus in arms their foreign friends, as the noble kings
of France are received and saluted at their first coming into the chief
cities of the kingdom after their advancement to the crown.  Perhaps, said
he, it may be the usual guard of the queen of the place, who, having notice
given her by the junior Chitterlings of the forlorn hope whom you saw on
the tree, of the arrival of your fine and pompous fleet, hath judged that
it was without doubt some rich and potent prince, and is come to visit you
in person.

Pantagruel, little trusting to this, called a council, to have their advice
at large in this doubtful case.  He briefly showed them how this way of
reception with arms had often, under colour of compliment and friendship,
been fatal.  Thus, said he, the Emperor Antonius Caracalla at one time
destroyed the citizens of Alexandria, and at another time cut off the
attendants of Artabanus, King of Persia, under colour of marrying his
daughter, which, by the way, did not pass unpunished, for a while after
this cost him his life.

Thus Jacob's children destroyed the Sichemites, to revenge the rape of
their sister Dinah.  By such another hypocritical trick Gallienus, the
Roman emperor, put to death the military men in Constantinople.  Thus,
under colour of friendship, Antonius enticed Artavasdes, King of Armenia;
then, having caused him to be bound in heavy chains and shackled, at last
put him to death.

We find a thousand such instances in history; and King Charles VI. is
justly commended for his prudence to this day, in that, coming back
victorious over the Ghenters and other Flemings to his good city of Paris,
and when he came to Bourget, a league from thence, hearing that the
citizens with their mallets--whence they got the name of Maillotins--were
marched out of town in battalia, twenty thousand strong, he would not go
into the town till they had laid down their arms and retired to their
respective homes; though they protested to him that they had taken arms
with no other design than to receive him with the greater demonstration of
honour and respect.

How Pantagruel sent for Colonel Maul-chitterling and Colonel Cut-pudding;
with a discourse well worth your hearing about the names of places and
persons.

The resolution of the council was that, let things be how they would, it
behoved the Pantagruelists to stand upon their guard.  Therefore Carpalin
and Gymnast were ordered by Pantagruel to go for the soldiers that were on
board the Cup galley, under the command of Colonel Maul-chitterling, and
those on board the Vine-tub frigate, under the command of Colonel
Cut-pudding the younger.  I will ease Gymnast of that trouble, said Panurge,
who wanted to be upon the run; you may have occasion for him here.  By
this worthy frock of mine, quoth Friar John, thou hast a mind to slip thy
neck out of the collar and absent thyself from the fight, thou
white-livered son of a dunghill!  Upon my virginity thou wilt never come
back. Well, there can be no great loss in thee; for thou wouldst do nothing
here but howl, bray, weep, and dishearten the good soldiers.  I will
certainly come back, said Panurge, Friar John, my ghostly father, and
speedily too; do but take care that these plaguy Chitterlings do not board
our ships. All the while you will be a-fighting I will pray heartily for
your victory, after the example of the valiant captain and guide of the
people of Israel, Moses. Having said this, he wheeled off.

Then said Epistemon to Pantagruel:  The denomination of these two colonels
of yours, Maul-chitterling and Cut-pudding, promiseth us assurance,
success, and victory, if those Chitterlings should chance to set upon us.
You take it rightly, said Pantagruel, and it pleaseth me to see you foresee
and prognosticate our victory by the names of our colonels.

This way of foretelling by names is not new; it was in old times celebrated
and religiously observed by the Pythagoreans.  Several great princes and
emperors have formerly made good use of it.  Octavianus Augustus, second
emperor of the Romans, meeting on a day a country fellow named Eutychus
--that is, fortunate--driving an ass named Nicon--that is, in Greek,
Victorian--moved by the signification of the ass's and ass-driver's names,
remained assured of all prosperity and victory.

The Emperor Vespasian being once all alone at prayers in the temple of
Serapis, at the sight and unexpected coming of a certain servant of his
named Basilides--that is, royal--whom he had left sick a great way behind,
took hopes and assurance of obtaining the empire of the Romans.  Regilian
was chosen emperor by the soldiers for no other reason but the
signification of his name.  See the Cratylus of the divine Plato.  (By my
thirst, I will read it, said Rhizotome; I hear you so often quote it.)  See
how the Pythagoreans, by reason of the names and numbers, conclude that
Patroclus was to fall by the hand of Hector; Hector by Achilles; Achilles
by Paris; Paris by Philoctetes.  I am quite lost in my understanding when I
reflect upon the admirable invention of Pythagoras, who by the number,
either even or odd, of the syllables of every name, would tell you of what
side a man was lame, hulch-backed, blind, gouty, troubled with the palsy,
pleurisy, or any other distemper incident to humankind; allotting even
numbers to the left (Motteux reads--'even numbers to the Right, and odd
ones to the Left.'), and odd ones to the right side of the body.

Indeed, said Epistemon, I saw this way of syllabizing tried at Xaintes at a
general procession, in the presence of that good, virtuous, learned and
just president, Brian Vallee, Lord of Douhait.  When there went by a man or
woman that was either lame, blind of one eye, or humpbacked, he had an
account brought him of his or her name; and if the syllables of the name
were of an odd number, immediately, without seeing the persons, he declared
them to be deformed, blind, lame, or crooked of the right side; and of the
left, if they were even in number; and such indeed we ever found them.

By this syllabical invention, said Pantagruel, the learned have affirmed
that Achilles kneeling was wounded by the arrow of Paris in the right heel,
for his name is of odd syllables (here we ought to observe that the
ancients used to kneel the right foot); and that Venus was also wounded
before Troy in the left hand, for her name in Greek is Aphrodite, of four
syllables; Vulcan lamed of his left foot for the same reason; Philip, King
of Macedon, and Hannibal, blind of the right eye; not to speak of
sciaticas, broken bellies, and hemicranias, which may be distinguished by
this Pythagorean reason.

But returning to names:  do but consider how Alexander the Great, son of
King Philip, of whom we spoke just now, compassed his undertaking merely by
the interpretation of a name.  He had besieged the strong city of Tyre, and
for several weeks battered it with all his power; but all in vain.  His
engines and attempts were still baffled by the Tyrians, which made him
finally resolve to raise the siege, to his great grief; foreseeing the
great stain which such a shameful retreat would be to his reputation.  In
this anxiety and agitation of mind he fell asleep and dreamed that a satyr
was come into his tent, capering, skipping, and tripping it up and down,
with his goatish hoofs, and that he strove to lay hold on him.  But the
satyr still slipped from him, till at last, having penned him up into a
corner, he took him.  With this he awoke, and telling his dream to the
philosophers and sages of his court, they let him know that it was a
promise of victory from the gods, and that he should soon be master of
Tyre; the word satyros divided in two being sa Tyros, and signifying Tyre
is thine; and in truth, at the next onset, he took the town by storm, and
by a complete victory reduced that stubborn people to subjection.

On the other hand, see how, by the signification of one word, Pompey fell
into despair.  Being overcome by Caesar at the battle of Pharsalia, he had
no other way left to escape but by flight; which attempting by sea, he
arrived near the island of Cyprus, and perceived on the shore near the city
of Paphos a beautiful and stately palace; now asking the pilot what was the
name of it, he told him that it was called kakobasilea, that is, evil king;
which struck such a dread and terror in him that he fell into despair, as
being assured of losing shortly his life; insomuch that his complaints,
sighs, and groans were heard by the mariners and other passengers.  And
indeed, a while after, a certain strange peasant, called Achillas, cut off
his head.

To all these examples might be added what happened to L. Paulus Emilius
when the senate elected him imperator, that is, chief of the army which
they sent against Perses, King of Macedon.  That evening returning home to
prepare for his expedition, and kissing a little daughter of his called
Trasia, she seemed somewhat sad to him.  What is the matter, said he, my
chicken?  Why is my Trasia thus sad and melancholy?  Daddy, replied the
child, Persa is dead.  This was the name of a little bitch which she loved
mightily.  Hearing this, Paulus took assurance of a victory over Perses.

If time would permit us to discourse of the sacred Hebrew writ, we might
find a hundred noted passages evidently showing how religiously they
observed proper names and their significations.

He had hardly ended this discourse, when the two colonels arrived with
their soldiers, all well armed and resolute.  Pantagruel made them a short
speech, entreating them to behave themselves bravely in case they were
attacked; for he could not yet believe that the Chitterlings were so
treacherous; but he bade them by no means to give the first offence, giving
them Carnival for the watchword.

How Chitterlings are not to be slighted by men.

You shake your empty noddles now, jolly topers, and do not believe what I
tell you here, any more than if it were some tale of a tub.  Well, well, I
cannot help it.  Believe it if you will; if you won't, let it alone.  For
my part, I very well know what I say.  It was in the Wild Island, in our
voyage to the Holy Bottle.  I tell you the time and place; what would you
have more?  I would have you call to mind the strength of the ancient
giants that undertook to lay the high mountain Pelion on the top of Ossa,
and set among those the shady Olympus, to dash out the gods' brains,
unnestle them, and scour their heavenly lodgings.  Theirs was no small
strength, you may well think, and yet they were nothing but Chitterlings
from the waist downwards, or at least serpents, not to tell a lie for the
matter.

The serpent that tempted Eve, too, was of the Chitterling kind, and yet it
is recorded of him that he was more subtle than any beast of the field.
Even so are Chitterlings.  Nay, to this very hour they hold in some
universities that this same tempter was the Chitterling called Ithyphallus,
into which was transformed bawdy Priapus, arch-seducer of females in
paradise, that is, a garden, in Greek.

Pray now tell me who can tell but that the Swiss, now so bold and warlike,
were formerly Chitterlings?  For my part, I would not take my oath to the
contrary.  The Himantopodes, a nation very famous in Ethiopia, according to
Pliny's description, are Chitterlings, and nothing else.  If all this will
not satisfy your worships, or remove your incredulity, I would have you
forthwith (I mean drinking first, that nothing be done rashly) visit
Lusignan, Parthenay, Vouant, Mervant, and Ponzauges in Poitou.  There you
will find a cloud of witnesses, not of your affidavit-men of the right
stamp, but credible time out of mind, that will take their corporal oath,
on Rigome's knuckle-bone, that Melusina their founder or foundress, which
you please, was woman from the head to the prick-purse, and thence
downwards was a serpentine Chitterling, or if you'll have it otherwise, a
Chitterlingdized serpent.  She nevertheless had a genteel and noble gait,
imitated to this very day by your hop-merchants of Brittany, in their
paspie and country dances.

What do you think was the cause of Erichthonius's being the first inventor
of coaches, litters, and chariots?  Nothing but because Vulcan had begot
him with Chitterlingdized legs, which to hide he chose to ride in a litter,
rather than on horseback; for Chitterlings were not yet in esteem at that
time.

The Scythian nymph, Ora, was likewise half woman and half Chitterling, and
yet seemed so beautiful to Jupiter that nothing could serve him but he must
give her a touch of his godship's kindness; and accordingly he had a brave
boy by her, called Colaxes; and therefore I would have you leave off
shaking your empty noddles at this, as if it were a story, and firmly
believe that nothing is truer than the gospel.

How Friar John joined with the cooks to fight the Chitterlings.

Friar John seeing these furious Chitterlings thus boldly march up, said to
Pantagruel, Here will be a rare battle of hobby-horses, a pretty kind of
puppet-show fight, for aught I see.  Oh! what mighty honour and wonderful
glory will attend our victory!  I would have you only be a bare spectator
of this fight, and for anything else leave me and my men to deal with them.
What men? said Pantagruel.  Matter of breviary, replied Friar John.  How
came Potiphar, who was head-cook of Pharaoh's kitchens, he that bought
Joseph, and whom the said Joseph might have made a cuckold if he had not
been a Joseph; how came he, I say, to be made general of all the horse in
the kingdom of Egypt?  Why was Nabuzardan, King Nebuchadnezzar's head-cook,
chosen to the exclusion of all other captains to besiege and destroy
Jerusalem?  I hear you, replied Pantagruel.  By St. Christopher's whiskers,
said Friar John, I dare lay a wager that it was because they had formerly
engaged Chitterlings, or men as little valued; whom to rout, conquer, and
destroy, cooks are without comparison more fit than cuirassiers and
gendarmes armed at all points, or all the horse and foot in the world.

You put me in mind, said Pantagruel, of what is written amongst the
facetious and merry sayings of Cicero.  During the more than civil wars
between Caesar and Pompey, though he was much courted by the first, he
naturally leaned more to the side of the latter.  Now one day hearing that
the Pompeians in a certain rencontre had lost a great many men, he took a
fancy to visit their camp.  There he perceived little strength, less
courage, but much disorder.  From that time, foreseeing that things would
go ill with them, as it since happened, he began to banter now one and then
another, and be very free of his cutting jests; so some of Pompey's
captains, playing the good fellows to show their assurance, told him, Do
you see how many eagles we have yet?  (They were then the device of the
Romans in war.)  They might be of use to you, replied Cicero, if you had to
do with magpies.

Thus, seeing we are to fight Chitterlings, pursued Pantagruel, you infer
thence that it is a culinary war, and have a mind to join with the cooks.
Well, do as you please, I'll stay here in the meantime, and wait for the
event of the rumpus.

Friar John went that very moment among the sutlers, into the cooks' tents,
and told them in a pleasing manner:  I must see you crowned with honour and
triumph this day, my lads; to your arms are reserved such achievements as
never yet were performed within the memory of man.  Ods-belly, do they make
nothing of the valiant cooks?  Let us go fight yonder fornicating
Chitterlings!  I'll be your captain.  But first let's drink, boys.  Come
on! let us be of good cheer.  Noble captain, returned the kitchen tribe,
this was spoken like yourself; bravely offered.  Huzza! we are all at your
excellency's command, and we live and die by you.  Live, live, said Friar
John, a God's name; but die by no means.  That is the Chitterlings' lot;
they shall have their bellyful of it.  Come on then, let us put ourselves
in order; Nabuzardan's the word.

How Friar John fitted up the sow; and of the valiant cooks that went into
it.

Then, by Friar John's order, the engineers and their workmen fitted up the
great sow that was in the ship Leathern Bottle.  It was a wonderful
machine, so contrived that, by means of large engines that were round about
it in rows, it throw'd forked iron bars and four-squared steel bolts; and
in its hold two hundred men at least could easily fight, and be sheltered.
It was made after the model of the sow of Riole, by the means of which
Bergerac was retaken from the English in the reign of Charles the Sixth.

Here are the names of the noble and valiant cooks who went into the sow, as
the Greeks did into the Trojan horse:

Sour-sauce.        Crisp-pig.         Carbonado.
Sweet-meat.        Greasy-slouch.     Sop-in-pan.
Greedy-gut.        Fat-gut.           Pick-fowl.
Liquorice-chops.   Bray-mortar.       Mustard-pot.
Soused-pork.       Lick-sauce.        Hog's-haslet.
Slap-sauce.        Hog's-foot.        Chopped-phiz.
Cock-broth.        Hodge-podge.       Gallimaufry.
Slipslop.

All these noble cooks in their coat-of-arms did bear, in a field gules, a
larding-pin vert, charged with a chevron argent.

Lard, hog's-lard.  Pinch-lard.        Snatch-lard.
Nibble-lard.       Top-lard.          Gnaw-lard.
Filch-lard.        Pick-lard.         Scrape-lard.
Fat-lard.          Save-lard.         Chew-lard.

Gaillard (by syncope) born near Rambouillet.  The said culinary doctor's
name was Gaillardlard, in the same manner as you use to say idolatrous for
idololatrous.

Stiff-lard.        Cut-lard.          Waste-lard.
Watch-lard.        Mince-lard.        Ogle-lard.
Sweet-lard.        Dainty-lard.       Weigh-lard.
Eat-lard.          Fresh-lard.        Gulch-lard.
Snap-lard.         Rusty-lard.        Eye-lard.
Catch-lard.

Names unknown among the Marranes and Jews.

Ballocky.          Thirsty.           Porridge-pot.
Pick-sallat.       Kitchen-stuff.     Lick-dish.
Broil-rasher.      Verjuice.          Salt-gullet.
Coney-skin.        Save-dripping.     Snail-dresser.
Dainty-chops.      Watercress.        Soup-monger.
Pie-wright.        Scrape-turnip.     Brewis-belly.
Pudding-pan.       Trivet.            Chine-picker.
Toss-pot.          Monsieur Ragout.   Suck-gravy.
Mustard-sauce.     Crack-pipkin.      Macaroon.
Claret-sauce.      Scrape-pot.        Skewer-maker.
Swill-broth.

Smell-smock.  He was afterwards taken from the kitchen and removed to
chamber-practice, for the service of the noble Cardinal Hunt-venison.

Rot-roast.         Hog's gullet.      Fox-tail.
Dish-clout.        Sirloin.           Fly-flap.
Save-suet.         Spit-mutton.       Old Grizzle.
Fire-fumbler.      Fritter-frier.     Ruff-belly.
Pillicock.         Flesh-smith.       Saffron-sauce.
Long-tool.         Cram-gut.          Strutting-tom.
Prick-pride.       Tuzzy-mussy.       Slashed-snout.
Prick-madam.       Jacket-liner.      Smutty-face.
Pricket.           Guzzle-drink.

Mondam, that first invented madam's sauce, and for that discovery was thus
called in the Scotch-French dialect.

Loblolly.          Sloven.            Trencher-man.
Slabber-chops.     Swallow-pitcher.   Goodman Goosecap.
Scum-pot.          Wafer-monger.      Munch-turnip.
Gully-guts.        Snap-gobbet.       Pudding-bag.
Rinse-pot.         Scurvy-phiz.       Pig-sticker.
Drink-spiller.

Robert.  He invented Robert's sauce, so good and necessary for roasted
coneys, ducks, fresh pork, poached eggs, salt fish, and a thousand other
such dishes.

Cold-eel.          Frying-pan.        Big-snout.
Thornback.         Man of dough.      Lick-finger.
Gurnard.           Sauce-doctor.      Tit-bit.
Grumbling-gut.     Waste-butter.      Sauce-box.
Alms-scrip.        Shitbreech.        All-fours.
Taste-all.         Thick-brawn.       Whimwham.
Scrap-merchant.    Tom T--d.          Baste-roast.
Belly-timberman.   Mouldy-crust.      Gaping-hoyden.
Hashee.            Hasty.             Calf's-pluck.
Frig-palate.       Red-herring.       Leather-breeches.
Powdering-tub.     Cheesecake.

All these noble cooks went into the sow, merry, cheery, hale, brisk, old
dogs at mischief, and ready to fight stoutly.  Friar John ever and anon
waving his huge scimitar, brought up the rear, and double-locked the doors
on the inside.

How Pantagruel broke the Chitterlings at the knees.

The Chitterlings advanced so near that Pantagruel perceived that they
stretched their arms and already began to charge their lances, which caused
him to send Gymnast to know what they meant, and why they thus, without the
least provocation, came to fall upon their old trusty friends, who had
neither said nor done the least ill thing to them.  Gymnast being advanced
near their front, bowed very low, and said to them as loud as ever he
could:  We are friends, we are friends; all, all of us your friends, yours,
and at your command; we are for Carnival, your old confederate.  Some have
since told me that he mistook, and said cavernal instead of carnival.

Whatever it was, the word was no sooner out of his mouth but a huge little
squab Sausage, starting out of the front of their main body, would have
griped him by the collar.  By the helmet of Mars, said Gymnast, I will
swallow thee; but thou shalt only come in in chips and slices; for, big as
thou art, thou couldst never come in whole.  This spoke, he lugs out his
trusty sword, Kiss-mine-arse (so he called it) with both his fists, and cut
the Sausage in twain.  Bless me, how fat the foul thief was! it puts me in
mind of the huge bull of Berne, that was slain at Marignan when the drunken
Swiss were so mauled there.  Believe me, it had little less than four
inches' lard on its paunch.

The Sausage's job being done, a crowd of others flew upon Gymnast, and had
most scurvily dragged him down when Pantagruel with his men came up to his
relief.  Then began the martial fray, higgledy-piggledy.  Maul-chitterling
did maul chitterlings; Cut-pudding did cut puddings; Pantagruel did break
the Chitterlings at the knees; Friar John played at least in sight within
his sow, viewing and observing all things; when the Pattipans that lay in
ambuscade most furiously sallied out upon Pantagruel.

Friar John, who lay snug all this while, by that time perceiving the rout
and hurlyburly, set open the doors of his sow and sallied out with his
merry Greeks, some of them armed with iron spits, others with andirons,
racks, fire-shovels, frying-pans, kettles, grid-irons, oven forks, tongs,
dripping pans, brooms, iron pots, mortars, pestles, all in battle array,
like so many housebreakers, hallooing and roaring out all together most
frightfully, Nabuzardan, Nabuzardan, Nabuzardan.  Thus shouting and hooting
they fought like dragons, and charged through the Pattipans and Sausages.
The Chitterlings perceiving this fresh reinforcement, and that the others
would be too hard for 'em, betook themselves to their heels, scampering off
with full speed, as if the devil had come for them.  Friar John, with an
iron crow, knocked them down as fast as hops; his men, too, were not
sparing on their side.  Oh, what a woeful sight it was! the field was all
over strewed with heaps of dead or wounded Chitterlings; and history
relates that had not heaven had a hand in it, the Chitterling tribe had
been totally routed out of the world by the culinary champions.  But there
happened a wonderful thing, you may believe as little or as much of it as
you please.

From the north flew towards us a huge, fat, thick, grizzly swine, with long
and large wings, like those of a windmill; its plumes red crimson, like
those of a phenicoptere (which in Languedoc they call flaman); its eyes
were red, and flaming like a carbuncle; its ears green, like a Prasin
emerald; its teeth like a topaz; its tail long and black, like jet; its
feet white, diaphanous and transparent like a diamond, somewhat broad, and
of the splay kind, like those of geese, and as Queen Dick's used to be at
Toulouse in the days of yore.  About its neck it wore a gold collar, round
which were some Ionian characters, whereof I could pick out but two words,
US ATHENAN, hog-teaching Minerva.

The sky was clear before; but at that monster's appearance it changed so
mightily for the worse that we were all amazed at it.  As soon as the
Chitterlings perceived the flying hog, down they all threw their weapons
and fell on their knees, lifting up their hands joined together, without
speaking one word, in a posture of adoration.  Friar John and his party
kept on mincing, felling, braining, mangling, and spitting the Chitterlings
like mad; but Pantagruel sounded a retreat, and all hostility ceased.

The monster having several times hovered backwards and forwards between the
two armies, with a tail-shot voided above twenty-seven butts of mustard on
the ground; then flew away through the air, crying all the while, Carnival,
Carnival, Carnival.

How Pantagruel held a treaty with Niphleseth, Queen of the Chitterlings.

The monster being out of sight, and the two armies remaining silent,
Pantagruel demanded a parley with the lady Niphleseth, Queen of the
Chitterlings, who was in her chariot by the standards; and it was easily
granted.  The queen alighted, courteously received Pantagruel, and was glad
to see him.  Pantagruel complained to her of this breach of peace; but she
civilly made her excuse, telling him that a false information had caused
all this mischief; her spies having brought her word that Shrovetide, their
mortal foe, was landed, and spent his time in examining the urine of
physeters.

She therefore entreated him to pardon them their offence, telling him that
sir-reverence was sooner found in Chitterlings than gall; and offering, for
herself and all her successors, to hold of him and his the whole island and
country; to obey him in all his commands, be friends to his friends, and
foes to his foes; and also to send every year, as an acknowledgment of
their homage, a tribute of seventy-eight thousand royal Chitterlings, to
serve him at his first course at table six months in the year; which was
punctually performed.  For the next day she sent the aforesaid quantity of
royal Chitterlings to the good Gargantua, under the conduct of young
Niphleseth, infanta of the island.

The good Gargantua made a present of them to the great King of Paris.  But
by change of air, and for want of mustard (the natural balsam and restorer
of Chitterlings), most of them died.  By the great king's particular grant
they were buried in heaps in a part of Paris to this day called La Rue
pavee d'Andouilles, the street paved with Chitterlings.  At the request of
the ladies at his court young Niphleseth was preserved, honourably used,
and since that married to heart's content; and was the mother of many
children, for which heaven be praised.

Pantagruel civilly thanked the queen, forgave all offences, refused the
offer she had made of her country, and gave her a pretty little knife.
After that he asked several nice questions concerning the apparition of
that flying hog.  She answered that it was the idea of Carnival, their
tutelary god in time of war, first founder and original of all the
Chitterling race; for which reason he resembled a hog, for Chitterlings
drew their extraction from hogs.

Pantagruel asking to what purpose and curative indication he had voided so
much mustard on the earth, the queen replied that mustard was their
sanc-greal and celestial balsam, of which, laying but a little in the wounds
of the fallen Chitterlings, in a very short time the wounded were healed and
the dead restored to life.  Pantagruel held no further discourse with the
queen, but retired a-shipboard.  The like did all the boon companions, with
their implements of destruction and their huge sow.

How Pantagruel went into the island of Ruach.

Two days after we arrived at the island of Ruach; and I swear to you, by
the celestial hen and chickens, that I found the way of living of the
people so strange and wonderful that I can't, for the heart's blood of me,
half tell it you.  They live on nothing but wind, eat nothing but wind, and
drink nothing but wind.  They have no other houses but weathercocks.  They
sow no other seeds but the three sorts of windflowers, rue, and herbs that
may make one break wind to the purpose; these scour them off carefully.
The common sort of people to feed themselves make use of feather, paper, or
linen fans, according to their abilities.  As for the rich, they live by
the means of windmills.

When they would have some noble treat, the tables are spread under one or
two windmills.  There they feast as merry as beggars, and during the meal
their whole talk is commonly of the goodness, excellency, salubrity, and
rarity of winds; as you, jolly topers, in your cups philosophize and argue
upon wines.  The one praises the south-east, the other the south-west; this
the west and by south, and this the east and by north; another the west,
and another the east; and so of the rest.  As for lovers and amorous
sparks, no gale for them like a smock-gale.  For the sick they use bellows
as we use clysters among us.

Oh! said to me a little diminutive swollen bubble, that I had now but a
bladderful of that same Languedoc wind which they call Cierce.  The famous
physician, Scurron, passing one day by this country, was telling us that it
is so strong that it will make nothing of overturning a loaded waggon.  Oh!
what good would it not do my Oedipodic leg.  The biggest are not the best;
but, said Panurge, rather would I had here a large butt of that same good
Languedoc wine that grows at Mirevaux, Canteperdrix, and Frontignan.

I saw a good likely sort of a man there, much resembling Ventrose, tearing
and fuming in a grievous fret with a tall burly groom and a pimping little
page of his, laying them on, like the devil, with a buskin.  Not knowing
the cause of his anger, at first I thought that all this was by the
doctor's advice, as being a thing very healthy to the master to be in a
passion and to his man to be banged for it.  But at last I heard him taxing
his man with stealing from him, like a rogue as he was, the better half of
a large leathern bag of an excellent southerly wind, which he had carefully
laid up, like a hidden reserve, against the cold weather.

They neither exonerate, dung, piss, nor spit in that island; but, to make
amends, they belch, fizzle, funk, and give tail-shots in abundance.  They
are troubled with all manner of distempers; and, indeed, all distempers are
engendered and proceed from ventosities, as Hippocrates demonstrates, lib.
De Flatibus.  But the most epidemical among them is the wind-cholic.  The
remedies which they use are large clysters, whereby they void store of
windiness.  They all die of dropsies and tympanies, the men farting and the
women fizzling; so that their soul takes her leave at the back-door.

Some time after, walking in the island, we met three hairbrained airy
fellows, who seemed mightily puffed up, and went to take their pastime and
view the plovers, who live on the same diet as themselves, and abound in
the island.  I observed that, as your true topers when they travel carry
flasks, leathern bottles, and small runlets along with them, so each of
them had at his girdle a pretty little pair of bellows.  If they happened
to want wind, by the help of those pretty bellows they immediately drew
some, fresh and cool, by attraction and reciprocal expulsion; for, as you
well know, wind essentially defined is nothing but fluctuating and agitated
air.

A while after, we were commanded, in the king's name, not to receive for
three hours any man or woman of the country on board our ships; some having
stolen from him a rousing fart, of the very individual wind which old
goodman Aeolus the snorer gave Ulysses to conduct his ship whenever it
should happen to be becalmed.  Which fart the king kept religiously, like
another sanc-greal, and performed a world of wonderful cures with it in
many dangerous diseases, letting loose and distributing to the patient only
as much of it as might frame a virginal fart; which is, if you must know,
what our sanctimonials, alias nuns, in their dialect call ringing
backwards.

How small rain lays a high wind.

Pantagruel commended their government and way of living, and said to their
hypenemian mayor:  If you approve Epicurus's opinion, placing the summum
bonum in pleasure (I mean pleasure that's easy and free from toil), I
esteem you happy; for your food being wind, costs you little or nothing,
since you need but blow.  True, sir, returned the mayor; but, alas! nothing
is perfect here below; for too often when we are at table, feeding on some
good blessed wind of God as on celestial manna, merry as so many friars,
down drops on a sudden some small rain, which lays our wind, and so robs us
of it.  Thus many a meal's lost for want of meat.

Just so, quoth Panurge, Jenin Toss-pot of Quinquenais, evacuating some wine
of his own burning on his wife's posteriors, laid the ill-fumed wind that
blowed out of their centre as out of some magisterial Aeolipile.  Here is a
kind of a whim on that subject which I made formerly:

  One evening when Toss-pot had been at his butts,
  And Joan his fat spouse crammed with turnips her guts,
  Together they pigged, nor did drink so besot him
  But he did what was done when his daddy begot him.
  Now when to recruit he'd fain have been snoring,
  Joan's back-door was filthily puffing and roaring;
  So for spite he bepissed her, and quickly did find
  That a very small rain lays a very high wind.

We are also plagued yearly with a very great calamity, cried the mayor; for
a giant called Wide-nostrils, who lives in the island of Tohu, comes hither
every spring to purge, by the advice of his physicians, and swallows us,
like so many pills, a great number of windmills, and of bellows also, at
which his mouth waters exceedingly.

Now this is a sad mortification to us here, who are fain to fast over three
or four whole Lents every year for this, besides certain petty Lents, ember
weeks, and other orison and starving tides.  And have you no remedy for
this? asked Pantagruel.  By the advice of our Mezarims, replied the mayor,
about the time that he uses to give us a visit, we garrison our windmills
with good store of cocks and hens.  The first time that the greedy thief
swallowed them, they had like to have done his business at once; for they
crowed and cackled in his maw, and fluttered up and down athwart and along
in his stomach, which threw the glutton into a lipothymy cardiac passion
and dreadful and dangerous convulsions, as if some serpent, creeping in at
his mouth, had been frisking in his stomach.

Here is a comparative as altogether incongruous and impertinent, cried
Friar John, interrupting them; for I have formerly heard that if a serpent
chance to get into a man's stomach it will not do him the least hurt, but
will immediately get out if you do but hang the patient by the heels and
lay a panful of warm milk near his mouth.  You were told this, said
Pantagruel, and so were those who gave you this account; but none ever saw
or read of such a cure.  On the contrary, Hippocrates, in his fifth book of
Epidem, writes that such a case happening in his time the patient presently
died of a spasm and convulsion.

Besides the cocks and hens, said the mayor, continuing his story, all the
foxes in the country whipped into Wide-nostril's mouth, posting after the
poultry; which made such a stir with Reynard at their heels, that he
grievously fell into fits each minute of an hour.

At last, by the advice of a Baden enchanter, at the time of the paroxysm he
used to flay a fox by way of antidote and counter-poison.  Since that he
took better advice, and eases himself with taking a clyster made with a
decoction of wheat and barley corns, and of livers of goslings; to the
first of which the poultry run, and the foxes to the latter.  Besides, he
swallows some of your badgers or fox-dogs by the way of pills and boluses.
This is our misfortune.

Cease to fear, good people, cried Pantagruel; this huge Wide-nostrils, this
same swallower of windmills, is no more, I will assure you; he died, being
stifled and choked with a lump of fresh butter at the mouth of a hot oven,
by the advice of his physicians.

How Pantagruel went ashore in the island of Pope-Figland.

The next morning we arrived at the island of Pope-figs; formerly a rich and
free people, called the Gaillardets, but now, alas! miserably poor, and
under the yoke of the Papimen.  The occasion of it was this:

On a certain yearly high holiday, the burgomaster, syndics, and topping
rabbies of the Gaillardets chanced to go into the neighbouring island
Papimany to see the festival and pass away the time.  Now one of them
having espied the pope's picture (with the sight of which, according to a
laudable custom, the people were blessed on high-offering holidays), made
mouths at it, and cried, A fig for it! as a sign of manifest contempt and
derision.  To be revenged of this affront, the Papimen, some days after,
without giving the others the least warning, took arms, and surprised,
destroyed, and ruined the whole island of the Gaillardets; putting the men
to the sword, and sparing none but the women and children, and those too
only on condition to do what the inhabitants of Milan were condemned to by
the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa.

These had rebelled against him in his absence, and ignominiously turned the
empress out of the city, mounting her a-horseback on a mule called Thacor,
with her breech foremost towards the old jaded mule's head, and her face
turned towards the crupper.  Now Frederick being returned, mastered them,
and caused so careful a search to be made that he found out and got the
famous mule Thacor.  Then the hangman by his order clapped a fig into the
mule's jimcrack, in the presence of the enslaved cits that were brought
into the middle of the great market-place, and proclaimed in the emperor's
name, with trumpets, that whosoever of them would save his own life should
publicly pull the fig out with his teeth, and after that put it in again in
the very individual cranny whence he had draw'd it without using his hands,
and that whoever refused to do this should presently swing for it and die
in his shoes.  Some sturdy fools, standing upon their punctilio, chose
honourably to be hanged rather than submit to so shameful and abominable a
disgrace; and others, less nice in point of ceremony, took heart of grace,
and even resolved to have at the fig, and a fig for't, rather than make a
worse figure with a hempen collar, and die in the air at so short warning.
Accordingly, when they had neatly picked out the fig with their teeth from
old Thacor's snatch-blatch, they plainly showed it the headsman, saying,
Ecco lo fico, Behold the fig!

By the same ignominy the rest of these poor distressed Gaillardets saved
their bacon, becoming tributaries and slaves, and the name of Pope-figs was
given them, because they said, A fig for the pope's image.  Since this, the
poor wretches never prospered, but every year the devil was at their doors,
and they were plagued with hail, storms, famine, and all manner of woes, as
an everlasting punishment for the sin of their ancestors and relations.
Perceiving the misery and calamity of that generation, we did not care to
go further up into the country, contenting ourselves with going into a
little chapel near the haven to take some holy water.  It was dilapidated
and ruined, wanting also a cover--like Saint Peter at Rome.  When we were
in, as we dipped our fingers in the sanctified cistern, we spied in the
middle of that holy pickle a fellow muffled up with stoles, all under
water, like a diving duck, except the tip of his snout to draw his breath.
About him stood three priests, true shavelings, clean shorn and polled, who
were muttering strange words to the devils out of a conjuring book.

Pantagruel was not a little amazed at this, and inquiring what kind of
sport these were at, was told that for three years last past the plague had
so dreadfully raged in the island that the better half of it had been
utterly depopulated, and the lands lay fallow and unoccupied.  Now, the
mortality being over, this same fellow who had crept into the holy tub,
having a large piece of ground, chanced to be sowing it with white winter
wheat at the very minute of an hour that a kind of a silly sucking devil,
who could not yet write or read, or hail and thunder, unless it were on
parsley or coleworts, and got leave of his master Lucifer to go into this
island of Pope-figs, where the devils were very familiar with the men and
women, and often went to take their pastime.

This same devil being got thither, directed his discourse to the
husbandman, and asked him what he was doing.  The poor man told him that he
was sowing the ground with corn to help him to subsist the next year.  Ay,
but the ground is none of thine, Mr. Plough-jobber, cried the devil, but
mine; for since the time that you mocked the pope all this land has been
proscribed, adjudged, and abandoned to us.  However, to sow corn is not my
province; therefore I will give thee leave to sow the field, that is to
say, provided we share the profit.  I will, replied the farmer.  I mean,
said the devil, that of what the land shall bear, two lots shall be made,
one of what shall grow above ground, the other of what shall be covered
with earth.  The right of choosing belongs to me; for I am a devil of noble
and ancient race; thou art a base clown.  I therefore choose what shall lie
under ground, take thou what shall be above.  When dost thou reckon to
reap, hah?  About the middle of July, quoth the farmer.  Well, said the
devil, I'll not fail thee then; in the meantime, slave as thou oughtest.
Work, clown, work.  I am going to tempt to the pleasing sin of whoring the
nuns of Dryfart, the sham saints of the cowl, and the gluttonish crew.  I
am more than sure of these.  They need but meet, and the job is done; true
fire and tinder, touch and take; down falls nun, and up gets friar.

How a junior devil was fooled by a husbandman of Pope-Figland.

In the middle of July the devil came to the place aforesaid with all his
crew at his heels, a whole choir of the younger fry of hell; and having met
the farmer, said to him, Well, clodpate, how hast thou done since I went?
Thou and I must share the concern.  Ay, master devil, quoth the clown; it
is but reason we should.  Then he and his men began to cut and reap the
corn; and, on the other side, the devil's imps fell to work, grubbing up
and pulling out the stubble by the root.

The countryman had his corn thrashed, winnowed it, put in into sacks, and
went with it to market.  The same did the devil's servants, and sat them
down there by the man to sell their straw.  The countryman sold off his
corn at a good rate, and with the money filled an old kind of a demi-buskin
which was fastened to his girdle.  But the devil a sou the devils took; far
from taking handsel, they were flouted and jeered by the country louts.

Market being over, quoth the devil to the farmer, Well, clown, thou hast
choused me once, it is thy fault; chouse me twice, 'twill be mine.  Nay,
good sir devil, replied the farmer; how can I be said to have choused you,
since it was your worship that chose first?  The truth is, that by this
trick you thought to cheat me, hoping that nothing would spring out of the
earth for my share, and that you should find whole underground the corn
which I had sowed, and with it tempt the poor and needy, the close
hypocrite, or the covetous griper; thus making them fall into your snares.
But troth, you must e'en go to school yet; you are no conjurer, for aught I
see; for the corn that was sow'd is dead and rotten, its corruption having
caused the generation of that which you saw me sell.  So you chose the
worst, and therefore are cursed in the gospel.  Well, talk no more of it,
quoth the devil; what canst thou sow our field with for next year?  If a
man would make the best of it, answered the ploughman, 'twere fit he sow it
with radish.  Now, cried the devil, thou talkest like an honest fellow,
bumpkin.  Well, sow me good store of radish, I'll see and keep them safe
from storms, and will not hail a bit on them.  But hark ye me, this time I
bespeak for my share what shall be above ground; what's under shall be
thine.  Drudge on, looby, drudge on.  I am going to tempt heretics; their
souls are dainty victuals when broiled in rashers and well powdered.  My
Lord Lucifer has the griping in the guts; they'll make a dainty warm dish
for his honour's maw.

When the season of radishes was come, our devil failed not to meet in the
field, with a train of rascally underlings, all waiting devils, and finding
there the farmer and his men, he began to cut and gather the leaves of the
radishes.  After him the farmer with his spade dug up the radishes, and
clapped them up into pouches.  This done, the devil, the farmer, and their
gangs, hied them to market, and there the farmer presently made good money
of his radishes; but the poor devil took nothing; nay, what was worse, he
was made a common laughing-stock by the gaping hoidens.  I see thou hast
played me a scurvy trick, thou villainous fellow, cried the angry devil; at
last I am fully resolved even to make an end of the business betwixt thee
and myself about the ground, and these shall be the terms:  we will
clapperclaw each other, and whoever of us two shall first cry Hold, shall
quit his share of the field, which shall wholly belong to the conqueror.  I
fix the time for this trial of skill on this day seven-night; assure
thyself that I'll claw thee off like a devil.  I was going to tempt your
fornicators, bailiffs, perplexers of causes, scriveners, forgers of deeds,
two-handed counsellors, prevaricating solicitors, and other such vermin;
but they were so civil as to send me word by an interpreter that they are
all mine already.  Besides, our master Lucifer is so cloyed with their
souls that he often sends them back to the smutty scullions and slovenly
devils of his kitchen, and they scarce go down with them, unless now and
then, when they are high-seasoned.

Some say there is no breakfast like a student's, no dinner like a lawyer's,
no afternoon's nunchion like a vine-dresser's, no supper like a
tradesman's, no second supper like a serving-wench's, and none of these
meals equal to a frockified hobgoblin's.  All this is true enough.
Accordingly, at my Lord Lucifer's first course, hobgoblins, alias imps in
cowls, are a standing dish.  He willingly used to breakfast on students;
but, alas!  I do not know by what ill luck they have of late years joined
the Holy Bible to their studies; so the devil a one we can get down among
us; and I verily believe that unless the hypocrites of the tribe of Levi
help us in it, taking from the enlightened book-mongers their St. Paul,
either by threats, revilings, force, violence, fire, and faggot, we shall
not be able to hook in any more of them to nibble at below.  He dines
commonly on counsellors, mischief-mongers, multipliers of lawsuits, such as
wrest and pervert right and law and grind and fleece the poor; he never
fears to want any of these.  But who can endure to be wedded to a dish?

He said t'other day, at a full chapter, that he had a great mind to eat the
soul of one of the fraternity of the cowl that had forgot to speak for
himself in his sermon, and he promised double pay and a large pension to
anyone that should bring him such a titbit piping hot.  We all went
a-hunting after such a rarity, but came home without the prey; for they all
admonish the good women to remember their convent.  As for afternoon
nunchions, he has left them off since he was so woefully griped with the
colic; his fosterers, sutlers, charcoal-men, and boiling cooks having been
sadly mauled and peppered off in the northern countries.

His high devilship sups very well on tradesmen, usurers, apothecaries,
cheats, coiners, and adulterers of wares.  Now and then, when he is on the
merry pin, his second supper is of serving-wenches who, after they have by
stealth soaked their faces with their master's good liquor, fill up the
vessel with it at second hand, or with other stinking water.

Well, drudge on, boor, drudge on; I am going to tempt the students of
Trebisonde to leave father and mother, forego for ever the established and
common rule of living, disclaim and free themselves from obeying their
lawful sovereign's edicts, live in absolute liberty, proudly despise
everyone, laugh at all mankind, and taking the fine jovial little cap of
poetic licence, become so many pretty hobgoblins.

How the devil was deceived by an old woman of Pope-Figland.

The country lob trudged home very much concerned and thoughtful, you may
swear; insomuch that his good woman, seeing him thus look moping, weened
that something had been stolen from him at market; but when she had heard
the cause of his affliction and seen his budget well lined with coin, she
bade him be of good cheer, assuring him that he would be never the worse
for the scratching bout in question; wishing him only to leave her to
manage that business, and not trouble his head about it; for she had
already contrived how to bring him off cleverly.  Let the worst come to the
worst, said the husbandman, it will be but a scratch; for I'll yield at the
first stroke, and quit the field.  Quit a fart, replied the wife; he shall
have none of the field.  Rely upon me, and be quiet; let me alone to deal
with him.  You say he is a pimping little devil, that is enough; I will
soon make him give up the field, I will warrant you.  Indeed, had he been a
great devil, it had been somewhat.

The day that we landed in the island happened to be that which the devil
had fixed for the combat.  Now the countryman having, like a good Catholic,
very fairly confessed himself, and received betimes in the morning, by the
advice of the vicar had hid himself, all but the snout, in the holy-water
pot, in the posture in which we found him; and just as they were telling us
this story, news came that the old woman had fooled the devil and gained
the field.  You may not be sorry, perhaps, to hear how this happened.

The devil, you must know, came to the poor man's door, and rapping there,
cried, So ho! ho, the house! ho, clodpate! where art thou?  Come out with a
vengeance; come out with a wannion; come out and be damned; now for
clawing.  Then briskly and resolutely entering the house, and not finding
the countryman there, he spied his wife lying on the ground, piteously
weeping and howling.  What is the matter? asked the devil.  Where is he?
what does he?  Oh! that I knew where he is, replied threescore and five;
the wicked rogue, the butcherly dog, the murderer!  He has spoiled me; I am
undone; I die of what he has done me.  How, cried the devil, what is it?
I'll tickle him off for you by-and-by.  Alas! cried the old dissembler, he
told me, the butcher, the tyrant, the tearer of devils told me that he had
made a match to scratch with you this day, and to try his claws he did but
just touch me with his little finger here betwixt the legs, and has spoiled
me for ever.  Oh! I am a dead woman; I shall never be myself again; do but
see!  Nay, and besides, he talked of going to the smith's to have his
pounces sharpened and pointed.  Alas! you are undone, Mr. Devil; good sir,
scamper quickly, I am sure he won't stay; save yourself, I beseech you.
While she said this she uncovered herself up to the chin, after the manner
in which the Persian women met their children who fled from the fight, and
plainly showed her what do ye call them.  The frightened devil, seeing the
enormous solution of the continuity in all its dimensions, blessed himself,
and cried out, Mahon, Demiourgon, Megaera, Alecto, Persephone! 'slife,
catch me here when he comes!  I am gone! 'sdeath, what a gash!  I resign
him the field.

Having heard the catastrophe of the story, we retired a-shipboard, not
being willing to stay there any longer.  Pantagruel gave to the poor's box
of the fabric of the church eighteen thousand good royals, in commiseration
of the poverty of the people and the calamity of the place.

How Pantagruel went ashore at the island of Papimany.

Having left the desolate island of the Pope-figs, we sailed for the space
of a day very fairly and merrily, and made the blessed island of Papimany.
As soon as we had dropt anchor in the road, before we had well moored our
ship with ground-tackle, four persons in different garbs rowed towards us
in a skiff.  One of them was dressed like a monk in his frock,
draggle-tailed, and booted; the other like a falconer, with a lure, and a
long-winged hawk on his fist; the third like a solicitor, with a large bag,
full of informations, subpoenas, breviates, bills, writs, cases, and other
implements of pettifogging; the fourth looked like one of your vine-barbers
about Ocleans, with a jaunty pair of canvas trousers, a dosser, and a
pruning knife at his girdle.

As soon as the boat had clapped them on board, they all with one voice
asked, Have you seen him, good passengers, have you seen him?  Who? asked
Pantagruel.  You know who, answered they.  Who is it? asked Friar John.
'Sblood and 'ounds, I'll thrash him thick and threefold.  This he said
thinking that they inquired after some robber, murderer, or church-breaker.
Oh, wonderful! cried the four; do not you foreign people know the one?
Sirs, replied Epistemon, we do not understand those terms; but if you will
be pleased to let us know who you mean, we will tell you the truth of the
matter without any more ado.  We mean, said they, he that is.  Did you ever
see him?  He that is, returned Pantagruel, according to our theological
doctrine, is God, who said to Moses, I am that I am.  We never saw him, nor
can he be beheld by mortal eyes.  We mean nothing less than that supreme
God who rules in heaven, replied they; we mean the god on earth.  Did you
ever see him?  Upon my honour, replied Carpalin, they mean the pope.  Ay,
ay, answered Panurge; yea, verily, gentlemen, I have seen three of them,
whose sight has not much bettered me.  How! cried they, our sacred
decretals inform us that there never is more than one living.  I mean
successively, one after the other, returned Panurge; otherwise I never saw
more than one at a time.

O thrice and four times happy people! cried they; you are welcome, and more
than double welcome!  They then kneeled down before us and would have
kissed our feet, but we would not suffer it, telling them that should the
pope come thither in his own person, 'tis all they could do to him.  No,
certainly, answered they, for we have already resolved upon the matter.  We
would kiss his bare arse without boggling at it, and eke his two pounders;
for he has a pair of them, the holy father, that he has; we find it so by
our fine decretals, otherwise he could not be pope.  So that, according to
our subtle decretaline philosophy, this is a necessary consequence:  he is
pope; therefore he has genitories, and should genitories no more be found
in the world, the world could no more have a pope.

While they were talking thus, Pantagruel inquired of one of the coxswain's
crew who those persons were.  He answered that they were the four estates
of the island, and added that we should be made as welcome as princes,
since we had seen the pope.  Panurge having been acquainted with this by
Pantagruel, said to him in his ear, I swear and vow, sir, 'tis even so; he
that has patience may compass anything.  Seeing the pope had done us no
good; now, in the devil's name, 'twill do us a great deal.  We then went
ashore, and the whole country, men, women, and children, came to meet us as
in a solemn procession.  Our four estates cried out to them with a loud
voice, They have seen him! they have seen him! they have seen him!  That
proclamation being made, all the mob kneeled before us, lifting up their
hands towards heaven, and crying, O happy men!  O most happy! and this
acclamation lasted above a quarter of an hour.

Then came the Busby (!) of the place, with all his pedagogues, ushers, and
schoolboys, whom he magisterially flogged, as they used to whip children in
our country formerly when some criminal was hanged, that they might
remember it.  This displeased Pantagruel, who said to them, Gentlemen, if
you do not leave off whipping these poor children, I am gone.  The people
were amazed, hearing his stentorian voice; and I saw a little hump with
long fingers say to the hypodidascal, What, in the name of wonder! do all
those that see the pope grow as tall as yon huge fellow that threatens us?
Ah! how I shall think time long till I have seen him too, that I may grow
and look as big.  In short, the acclamations were so great that Homenas (so
they called their bishop) hastened thither on an unbridled mule with green
trappings, attended by his apposts (as they said) and his supposts, or
officers bearing crosses, banners, standards, canopies, torches, holy-water
pots, &c.  He too wanted to kiss our feet (as the good Christian Valfinier
did to Pope Clement), saying that one of their hypothetes, that's one of
the scavengers, scourers, and commentators of their holy decretals, had
written that, in the same manner as the Messiah, so long and so much
expected by the Jews, at last appeared among them; so, on some happy day of
God, the pope would come into that island; and that, while they waited for
that blessed time, if any who had seen him at Rome or elsewhere chanced to
come among them, they should be sure to make much of them, feast them
plentifully, and treat them with a great deal of reverence.  However, we
civilly desired to be excused.

How Homenas, Bishop of Papimany, showed us the Uranopet decretals.

Homenas then said to us:  'Tis enjoined us by our holy decretals to visit
churches first and taverns after.  Therefore, not to decline that fine
institution, let us go to church; we will afterwards go and feast
ourselves.  Man of God, quoth Friar John, do you go before, we'll follow
you.  You spoke in the matter properly, and like a good Christian; 'tis
long since we saw any such.  For my part, this rejoices my mind very much,
and I verily believe that I shall have the better stomach after it.  Well,
'tis a happy thing to meet with good men!  Being come near the gate of the
church, we spied a huge thick book, gilt, and covered all over with
precious stones, as rubies, emeralds, (diamonds,) and pearls, more, or at
least as valuable as those which Augustus consecrated to Jupiter
Capitolinus.  This book hanged in the air, being fastened with two thick
chains of gold to the zoophore of the porch.  We looked on it and admired
it.  As for Pantagruel, he handled it and dandled it and turned it as he
pleased, for he could reach it without straining; and he protested that
whenever he touched it, he was seized with a pleasant tickling at his
fingers' end, new life and activity in his arms, and a violent temptation
in his mind to beat one or two sergeants, or such officers, provided they
were not of the shaveling kind.  Homenas then said to us, The law was
formerly given to the Jews by Moses, written by God himself.  At Delphos,
before the portal of Apollo's temple, this sentence, GNOTHI SEAUTON, was
found written with a divine hand.  And some time after it, EI was also
seen, and as divinely written and transmitted from heaven. Cybele's image
was brought out of heaven, into a field called Pessinunt, in Phrygia; so
was that of Diana to Tauris, if you will believe Euripides; the oriflamme,
or holy standard, was transmitted out of heaven to the noble and most
Christian kings of France, to fight against the unbelievers.  In the reign
of Numa Pompilius, second King of the Romans, the famous copper buckler
called Ancile was seen to descend from heaven.  At Acropolis, near Athens,
Minerva's statue formerly fell from the empyreal heaven.  In like manner
the sacred decretals which you see were written with the hand of an angel
of the cherubim kind.  You outlandish people will hardly believe this, I
fear.  Little enough, of conscience, said Panurge.  And then, continued
Homenas, they were miraculously transmitted to us here from the very heaven
of heavens; in the same manner as the river Nile is called Diipetes by
Homer, the father of all philosophy--the holy decretals always excepted.
Now, because you have seen the pope, their evangelist and everlasting
protector, we will give you leave to see and kiss them on the inside, if
you think meet.  But then you must fast three days before, and canonically
confess; nicely and strictly mustering up and inventorizing your sins,
great and small, so thick that one single circumstance of them may not
escape you; as our holy decretals, which you see, direct.  This will take
up some time.  Man of God, answered Panurge, we have seen and descried
decrees, and eke decretals enough o' conscience; some on paper, other on
parchment, fine and gay like any painted paper lantern, some on vellum,
some in manuscript, and others in print; so you need not take half these
pains to show us these.  We'll take the goodwill for the deed, and thank
you as much as if we had.  Ay, marry, said Homenas, but you never saw these
that are angelically written.  Those in your country are only transcripts
from ours; as we find it written by one of our old decretaline scholiasts.
For me, do not spare me; I do not value the labour, so I may serve you.  Do
but tell me whether you will be confessed and fast only three short little
days of God?  As for shriving, answered Panurge, there can be no great harm
in't; but this same fasting, master of mine, will hardly down with us at
this time, for we have so very much overfasted ourselves at sea that the
spiders have spun their cobwebs over our grinders.  Do but look on this
good Friar John des Entomeures (Homenas then courteously demi-clipped him
about the neck), some moss is growing in his throat for want of bestirring
and exercising his chaps.  He speaks the truth, vouched Friar John; I have
so much fasted that I'm almost grown hump-shouldered.  Come, then, let's go
into the church, said Homenas; and pray forgive us if for the present we do
not sing you a fine high mass.  The hour of midday is past, and after it
our sacred decretals forbid us to sing mass, I mean your high and lawful
mass.  But I'll say a low and dry one for you.  I had rather have one
moistened with some good Anjou wine, cried Panurge; fall to, fall to your
low mass, and despatch.  Ods-bodikins, quoth Friar John, it frets me to the
guts that I must have an empty stomach at this time of day; for, had I
eaten a good breakfast and fed like a monk, if he should chance to sing us
the Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, I had then brought thither bread and
wine for the traits passes (those that are gone before).  Well, patience;
pull away, and save tide; short and sweet, I pray you, and this for a
cause.

How Homenas showed us the archetype, or representation of a pope.

Mass being mumbled over, Homenas took a huge bundle of keys out of a trunk
near the head altar, and put thirty-two of them into so many keyholes; put
back so many springs; then with fourteen more mastered so many padlocks,
and at last opened an iron window strongly barred above the said altar.
This being done, in token of great mystery he covered himself with wet
sackcloth, and drawing a curtain of crimson satin, showed us an image
daubed over, coarsely enough, to my thinking; then he touched it with a
pretty long stick, and made us all kiss the part of the stick that had
touched the image.  After this he said unto us, What think you of this
image?  It is the likeness of a pope, answered Pantagruel; I know it by the
triple crown, his furred amice, his rochet, and his slipper.  You are in
the right, said Homenas; it is the idea of that same good god on earth
whose coming we devoutly await, and whom we hope one day to see in this
country.  O happy, wished-for, and much-expected day! and happy, most happy
you, whose propitious stars have so favoured you as to let you see the
living and real face of this good god on earth! by the single sight of
whose picture we obtain full remission of all the sins which we remember
that we have committed, as also a third part and eighteen quarantaines of
the sins which we have forgot; and indeed we only see it on high annual
holidays.

This caused Pantagruel to say that it was a work like those which Daedalus
used to make, since, though it were deformed and ill drawn, nevertheless
some divine energy, in point of pardons, lay hid and concealed in it.
Thus, said Friar John, at Seuille, the rascally beggars being one evening
on a solemn holiday at supper in the spital, one bragged of having got six
blancs, or twopence halfpenny; another eight liards, or twopence; a third,
seven caroluses, or sixpence; but an old mumper made his vaunts of having
got three testons, or five shillings.  Ah, but, cried his comrades, thou
hast a leg of God; as if, continued Friar John, some divine virtue could
lie hid in a stinking ulcerated rotten shank.  Pray, said Pantagruel, when
you are for telling us some such nauseous tale, be so kind as not to forget
to provide a basin, Friar John; I'll assure you, I had much ado to forbear
bringing up my breakfast.  Fie! I wonder a man of your coat is not ashamed
to use thus the sacred name of God in speaking of things so filthy and
abominable! fie, I say.  If among your monking tribes such an abuse of
words is allowed, I beseech you leave it there, and do not let it come out
of the cloisters.  Physicians, said Epistemon, thus attribute a kind of
divinity to some diseases.  Nero also extolled mushrooms, and, in a Greek
proverb, termed them divine food, because with them he had poisoned
Claudius his predecessor.  But methinks, gentlemen, this same picture is
not over-like our late popes.  For I have seen them, not with their
pallium, amice, or rochet on, but with helmets on their heads, more like
the top of a Persian turban; and while the Christian commonwealth was in
peace, they alone were most furiously and cruelly making war.  This must
have been then, returned Homenas, against the rebellious, heretical
Protestants; reprobates who are disobedient to the holiness of this good
god on earth.  'Tis not only lawful for him to do so, but it is enjoined
him by the sacred decretals; and if any dare transgress one single iota
against their commands, whether they be emperors, kings, dukes, princes, or
commonwealths, he is immediately to pursue them with fire and sword, strip
them of all their goods, take their kingdoms from them, proscribe them,
anathematize them, and destroy not only their bodies, those of their
children, relations, and others, but damn also their souls to the very
bottom of the most hot and burning cauldron in hell.  Here, in the devil's
name, said Panurge, the people are no heretics; such as was our
Raminagrobis, and as they are in Germany and England.  You are Christians
of the best edition, all picked and culled, for aught I see.  Ay, marry are
we, returned Homenas, and for that reason we shall all be saved.  Now let
us go and bless ourselves with holy water, and then to dinner.

Table-talk in praise of the decretals.

Now, topers, pray observe that while Homenas was saying his dry mass, three
collectors, or licensed beggars of the church, each of them with a large
basin, went round among the people, with a loud voice:  Pray remember the
blessed men who have seen his face.  As we came out of the temple they
brought their basins brimful of Papimany chink to Homenas, who told us that
it was plentifully to feast with; and that, of this contribution and
voluntary tax, one part should be laid out in good drinking, another in
good eating, and the remainder in both, according to an admirable
exposition hidden in a corner of their holy decretals; which was performed
to a T, and that at a noted tavern not much unlike that of Will's at
Amiens.  Believe me, we tickled it off there with copious cramming and
numerous swilling.

I made two notable observations at that dinner:  the one, that there was
not one dish served up, whether of cabrittas, capons, hogs (of which latter
there is great plenty in Papimany), pigeons, coneys, leverets, turkeys, or
others, without abundance of magistral stuff; the other, that every course,
and the fruit also, were served up by unmarried females of the place, tight
lasses, I'll assure you, waggish, fair, good-conditioned, and comely,
spruce, and fit for business.  They were all clad in fine long white albs,
with two girts; their hair interwoven with narrow tape and purple ribbon,
stuck with roses, gillyflowers, marjoram, daffadowndillies, thyme, and
other sweet flowers.

At every cadence they invited us to drink and bang it about, dropping us
neat and genteel courtesies; nor was the sight of them unwelcome to all the
company; and as for Friar John, he leered on them sideways, like a cur that
steals a capon.  When the first course was taken off, the females
melodiously sung us an epode in the praise of the sacrosanct decretals; and
then the second course being served up, Homenas, joyful and cheery, said to
one of the she-butlers, Light here, Clerica.  Immediately one of the girls
brought him a tall-boy brimful of extravagant wine.  He took fast hold of
it, and fetching a deep sigh, said to Pantagruel, My lord, and you, my good
friends, here's t'ye, with all my heart; you are all very welcome.  When he
had tipped that off, and given the tall-boy to the pretty creature, he
lifted up his voice and said, O most holy decretals, how good is good wine
found through your means!  This is the best jest we have had yet, observed
Panurge.  But it would still be a better, said Pantagruel, if they could
turn bad wine into good.

O seraphic Sextum! continued Homenas, how necessary are you not to the
salvation of poor mortals!  O cherubic Clementinae! how perfectly the
perfect institution of a true Christian is contained and described in you!
O angelical Extravagantes! how many poor souls that wander up and down in
mortal bodies through this vale of misery would perish were it not for you!
When, ah! when shall this special gift of grace be bestowed on mankind, as
to lay aside all other studies and concerns, to use you, to peruse you, to
understand you, to know you by heart, to practise you, to incorporate you,
to turn you into blood, and incentre you into the deepest ventricles of
their brains, the inmost marrow of their bones, and most intricate
labyrinth of their arteries?  Then, ah! then, and no sooner than then, nor
otherwise than thus, shall the world be happy!  While the old man was thus
running on, Epistemon rose and softly said to Panurge:  For want of a
close-stool, I must even leave you for a moment or two; this stuff has
unbunged the orifice of my mustard-barrel; but I'll not tarry long.

Then, ah! then, continued Homenas, no hail, frost, ice, snow, overflowing,
or vis major; then plenty of all earthly goods here below.  Then
uninterrupted and eternal peace through the universe, an end of all wars,
plunderings, drudgeries, robbing, assassinates, unless it be to destroy
these cursed rebels the heretics.  Oh! then, rejoicing, cheerfulness,
jollity, solace, sports, and delicious pleasures, over the face of the
earth.  Oh! what great learning, inestimable erudition, and god-like
precepts are knit, linked, rivetted, and mortised in the divine chapters of
these eternal decretals!

Oh! how wonderfully, if you read but one demi-canon, short paragraph, or
single observation of these sacrosanct decretals, how wonderfully, I say,
do you not perceive to kindle in your hearts a furnace of divine love,
charity towards your neighbour (provided he be no heretic), bold contempt
of all casual and sublunary things, firm content in all your affections,
and ecstatic elevation of soul even to the third heaven.

A continuation of the miracles caused by the decretals.

Wisely, brother Timothy, quoth Panurge, did am, did am; he says blew; but,
for my part, I believe as little of it as I can.  For one day by chance I
happened to read a chapter of them at Poictiers, at the most
decretalipotent Scotch doctor's, and old Nick turn me into bumfodder, if
this did not make me so hide-bound and costive, that for four or five days
I hardly scumbered one poor butt of sir-reverence; and that, too, was full
as dry and hard, I protest, as Catullus tells us were those of his
neighbour Furius:

  Nec toto decies cacas in anno,
  Atque id durius est faba, et lapillis:
  Quod tu si manibus teras, fricesque,
  Non unquam digitum inquinare posses.

Oh, ho! cried Homenas; by'r lady, it may be you were then in the state of
mortal sin, my friend.  Well turned, cried Panurge; this was a new strain,
egad.

One day, said Friar John, at Seuille, I had applied to my posteriors, by
way of hind-towel, a leaf of an old Clementinae which our rent-gatherer,
John Guimard, had thrown out into the green of our cloister.  Now the devil
broil me like a black pudding, if I wasn't so abominably plagued with
chaps, chawns, and piles at the fundament, that the orifice of my poor
nockandroe was in a most woeful pickle for I don't know how long.  By'r our
lady, cried Homenas, it was a plain punishment of God for the sin that you
had committed in beraying that sacred book, which you ought rather to have
kissed and adored; I say with an adoration of latria, or of hyperdulia at
least.  The Panormitan never told a lie in the matter.

Saith Ponocrates:  At Montpelier, John Chouart having bought of the monks
of St. Olary a delicate set of decretals, written on fine large parchment
of Lamballe, to beat gold between the leaves, not so much as a piece that
was beaten in them came to good, but all were dilacerated and spoiled.
Mark this! cried Homenas; 'twas a divine punishment and vengeance.

At Mans, said Eudemon, Francis Cornu, apothecary, had turned an old set of
Extravagantes into waste paper.  May I never stir, if whatever was lapped
up in them was not immediately corrupted, rotten, and spoiled; incense,
pepper, cloves, cinnamon, saffron, wax, cassia, rhubarb, tamarinds, all
drugs and spices, were lost without exception.  Mark, mark, quoth Homenas,
an effect of divine justice!  This comes of putting the sacred Scriptures
to such profane uses.

At Paris, said Carpalin, Snip Groignet the tailor had turned an old
Clementinae into patterns and measures, and all the clothes that were cut
on them were utterly spoiled and lost; gowns, hoods, cloaks, cassocks,
jerkins, jackets, waistcoats, capes, doublets, petticoats, corps de robes,
farthingales, and so forth.  Snip, thinking to cut a hood, would cut you
out a codpiece; instead of a cassock he would make you a high-crowned hat;
for a waistcoat he'd shape you out a rochet; on the pattern of a doublet
he'd make you a thing like a frying-pan.  Then his journeymen having
stitched it up did jag it and pink it at the bottom, and so it looked like
a pan to fry chestnuts.  Instead of a cape he made a buskin; for a
farthingale he shaped a montero cap; and thinking to make a cloak, he'd cut
out a pair of your big out-strouting Swiss breeches, with panes like the
outside of a tabor.  Insomuch that Snip was condemned to make good the
stuffs to all his customers; and to this day poor Cabbage's hair grows
through his hood and his arse through his pocket-holes.  Mark, an effect of
heavenly wrath and vengeance! cried Homenas.

At Cahusac, said Gymnast, a match being made by the lords of Estissac and
Viscount Lausun to shoot at a mark, Perotou had taken to pieces a set of
decretals and set one of the leaves for the white to shoot at.  Now I sell,
nay, I give and bequeath for ever and aye, the mould of my doublet to
fifteen hundred hampers full of black devils, if ever any archer in the
country (though they are singular marksmen in Guienne) could hit the white.
Not the least bit of the holy scribble was contaminated or touched; nay,
and Sansornin the elder, who held stakes, swore to us, figues dioures, hard
figs (his greatest oath), that he had openly, visibly, and manifestly seen
the bolt of Carquelin moving right to the round circle in the middle of the
white; and that just on the point, when it was going to hit and enter, it
had gone aside above seven foot and four inches wide of it towards the
bakehouse.

Miracle! cried Homenas, miracle! miracle!  Clerica, come wench, light,
light here.  Here's to you all, gentlemen; I vow you seem to me very sound
Christians.  While he said this, the maidens began to snicker at his elbow,
grinning, giggling, and twittering among themselves.  Friar John began to
paw, neigh, and whinny at the snout's end, as one ready to leap, or at
least to play the ass, and get up and ride tantivy to the devil like a
beggar on horseback.

Methinks, said Pantagruel, a man might have been more out of danger near
the white of which Gymnast spoke than was formerly Diogenes near another.
How is that? asked Homenas; what was it?  Was he one of our decretalists?
Rarely fallen in again, egad, said Epistemon, returning from stool; I see
he will hook his decretals in, though by the head and shoulders.

Diogenes, said Pantagruel, one day for pastime went to see some archers
that shot at butts, one of whom was so unskilful, that when it was his turn
to shoot all the bystanders went aside, lest he should mistake them for the
mark.  Diogenes had seen him shoot extremely wide of it; so when the other
was taking aim a second time, and the people removed at a great distance to
the right and left of the white, he placed himself close by the mark,
holding that place to be the safest, and that so bad an archer would
certainly rather hit any other.

One of the Lord d'Estissac's pages at last found out the charm, pursued
Gymnast, and by his advice Perotou put in another white made up of some
papers of Pouillac's lawsuit, and then everyone shot cleverly.

At Landerousse, said Rhizotome, at John Delif's wedding were very great
doings, as 'twas then the custom of the country.  After supper several
farces, interludes, and comical scenes were acted; they had also several
morris-dancers with bells and tabors, and divers sorts of masks and mummers
were let in.  My schoolfellows and I, to grace the festival to the best of
our power (for fine white and purple liveries had been given to all of us
in the morning), contrived a merry mask with store of cockle-shells, shells
of snails, periwinkles, and such other.  Then for want of cuckoo-pint, or
priest-pintle, lousebur, clote, and paper, we made ourselves false faces
with the leaves of an old Sextum that had been thrown by and lay there for
anyone that would take it up, cutting out holes for the eyes, nose, and
mouth.  Now, did you ever hear the like since you were born?  When we had
played our little boyish antic tricks, and came to take off our sham faces,
we appeared more hideous and ugly than the little devils that acted the
Passion at Douay; for our faces were utterly spoiled at the places which
had been touched by those leaves.  One had there the small-pox; another,
God's token, or the plague-spot; a third, the crinckums; a fourth, the
measles; a fifth, botches, pushes, and carbuncles; in short, he came off
the least hurt who only lost his teeth by the bargain.  Miracle! bawled out
Homenas, miracle!

Hold, hold! cried Rhizotome; it is not yet time to clap.  My sister Kate
and my sister Ren had put the crepines of their hoods, their ruffles,
snuffekins, and neck-ruffs new washed, starched, and ironed, into that very
book of decretals; for, you must know, it was covered with thick boards and
had strong clasps.  Now, by the virtue of God--Hold, interrupted Homenas,
what god do you mean?  There is but one, answered Rhizotome.  In heaven, I
grant, replied Homenas; but we have another here on earth, do you see?  Ay,
marry have we, said Rhizotome; but on my soul I protest I had quite forgot
it.  Well then, by the virtue of god the pope, their pinners, neck-ruffs,
bib, coifs, and other linen turned as black as a charcoal-man's sack.
Miracle! cried Homenas.  Here, Clerica, light me here; and prithee, girl,
observe these rare stories.  How comes it to pass then, asked Friar John,
that people say,

  Ever since decrees had tails,
  And gendarmes lugged heavy mails,
  Since each monk would have a horse,
  All went here from bad to worse.

I understand you, answered Homenas; this is one of the quirks and little
satires of the new-fangled heretics.

How by the virtue of the decretals, gold is subtilely drawn out of France
to Rome.

I would, said Epistemon, it had cost me a pint of the best tripe that ever
can enter into gut, so we had but compared with the original the dreadful
chapters, Execrabilis, De multa, Si plures; De annatis per totum; Nisi
essent; Cum ad monasterium; Quod delectio; Mandatum; and certain others,
that draw every year out of France to Rome four hundred thousand ducats and
more.

Do you make nothing of this? asked Homenas.  Though, methinks, after all,
it is but little, if we consider that France, the most Christian, is the
only nurse the see of Rome has.  However, find me in the whole world a
book, whether of philosophy, physic, law, mathematics, or other humane
learning, nay, even, by my God, of the Holy Scripture itself, will draw as
much money thence?  None, none, psha, tush, blurt, pish; none can.  You may
look till your eyes drop out of your head, nay, till doomsday in the
afternoon, before you can find another of that energy; I'll pass my word
for that.

Yet these devilish heretics refuse to learn and know it.  Burn 'em, tear
'em, nip 'em with hot pincers, drown 'em, hang 'em, spit 'em at the
bunghole, pelt 'em, paut 'em, bruise 'em, beat 'em, cripple 'em, dismember
'em, cut 'em, gut 'em, bowel 'em, paunch 'em, thrash 'em, slash 'em, gash
'em, chop 'em, slice 'em, slit 'em, carve 'em, saw 'em, bethwack 'em, pare
'em, hack 'em, hew 'em, mince 'em, flay 'em, boil 'em, broil 'em, roast
'em, toast 'em, bake 'em, fry 'em, crucify 'em, crush 'em, squeeze 'em,
grind 'em, batter 'em, burst 'em, quarter 'em, unlimb 'em, behump 'em,
bethump 'em, belam 'em, belabour 'em, pepper 'em, spitchcock 'em, and
carbonade 'em on gridirons, these wicked heretics! decretalifuges,
decretalicides, worse than homicides, worse than patricides,
decretalictones of the devil of hell.

As for you other good people, I must earnestly pray and beseech you to
believe no other thing, to think on, say, undertake, or do no other thing,
than what's contained in our sacred decretals and their corollaries, this
fine Sextum, these fine Clementinae, these fine Extravagantes.  O deific
books!  So shall you enjoy glory, honour, exaltation, wealth, dignities,
and preferments in this world; be revered and dreaded by all, preferred,
elected, and chosen above all men.

For there is not under the cope of heaven a condition of men out of which
you'll find persons fitter to do and handle all things than those who by
divine prescience, eternal predestination, have applied themselves to the
study of the holy decretals.

Would you choose a worthy emperor, a good captain, a fit general in time of
war, one that can well foresee all inconveniences, avoid all dangers,
briskly and bravely bring his men on to a breach or attack, still be on
sure grounds, always overcome without loss of his men, and know how to make
a good use of his victory?  Take me a decretist.  No, no, I mean a
decretalist.  Ho, the foul blunder, whispered Epistemon.

Would you, in time of peace, find a man capable of wisely governing the
state of a commonwealth, of a kingdom, of an empire, of a monarchy;
sufficient to maintain the clergy, nobility, senate, and commons in wealth,
friendship, unity, obedience, virtue, and honesty?  Take a decretalist.

Would you find a man who, by his exemplary life, eloquence, and pious
admonitions, may in a short time, without effusion of human blood, conquer
the Holy Land, and bring over to the holy Church the misbelieving Turks,
Jews, Tartars, Muscovites, Mamelukes, and Sarrabonites?  Take me a
decretalist.

What makes, in many countries, the people rebellious and depraved, pages
saucy and mischievous, students sottish and duncical?  Nothing but that
their governors and tutors were not decretalists.

But what, on your conscience, was it, do you think, that established,
confirmed, and authorized those fine religious orders with whom you see the
Christian world everywhere adorned, graced, and illustrated, as the
firmament is with its glorious stars?  The holy decretals.

What was it that founded, underpropped, and fixed, and now maintains,
nourishes, and feeds the devout monks and friars in convents, monasteries,
and abbeys; so that did they not daily and mightily pray without ceasing,
the world would be in evident danger of returning to its primitive chaos?
The sacred decretals.

What makes and daily increases the famous and celebrated patrimony of St.
Peter in plenty of all temporal, corporeal, and spiritual blessings?  The
holy decretals.

What made the holy apostolic see and pope of Rome, in all times, and at
this present, so dreadful in the universe, that all kings, emperors,
potentates, and lords, willing, nilling, must depend upon him, hold of him,
be crowned, confirmed, and authorized by him, come thither to strike sail,
buckle, and fall down before his holy slipper, whose picture you have seen?
The mighty decretals of God.

I will discover you a great secret.  The universities of your world have
commonly a book, either open or shut, in their arms and devices; what book
do you think it is?  Truly, I do not know, answered Pantagruel; I never
read it.  It is the decretals, said Homenas, without which the privileges
of all universities would soon be lost.  You must own that I have taught
you this; ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Here Homenas began to belch, to fart, to funk, to laugh, to slaver, and to
sweat; and then he gave his huge greasy four-cornered cap to one of the
lasses, who clapped it on her pretty head with a great deal of joy, after
she had lovingly bussed it, as a sure token that she should be first
married.  Vivat, cried Epistemon, fifat, bibat, pipat.

O apocalyptic secret! continued Homenas; light, light, Clerica; light here
with double lanterns.  Now for the fruit, virgins.

I was saying, then, that giving yourselves thus wholly to the study of the
holy decretals, you will gain wealth and honour in this world.  I add, that
in the next you will infallibly be saved in the blessed kingdom of heaven,
whose keys are given to our good god and decretaliarch.  O my good god,
whom I adore and never saw, by thy special grace open unto us, at the point
of death at least, this most sacred treasure of our holy Mother Church,
whose protector, preserver, butler, chief-larder, administrator, and
disposer thou art; and take care, I beseech thee, O lord, that the precious
works of supererogation, the goodly pardons, do not fail us in time of
need; so that the devils may not find an opportunity to gripe our precious
souls, and the dreadful jaws of hell may not swallow us.  If we must pass
through purgatory thy will be done.  It is in thy power to draw us out of
it when thou pleasest.  Here Homenas began to shed huge hot briny tears, to
beat his breast, and kiss his thumbs in the shape of a cross.

How Homenas gave Pantagruel some bon-Christian pears.

Epistemon, Friar John, and Panurge, seeing this doleful catastrophe, began,
under the cover of their napkins, to cry Meeow, meeow, meeow; feigning to
wipe their eyes all the while as if they had wept.  The wenches were doubly
diligent, and brought brimmers of Clementine wine to every one, besides
store of sweetmeats; and thus the feasting was revived.

Before we arose from table, Homenas gave us a great quantity of fair large
pears, saying, Here, my good friends, these are singular good pears.  You
will find none such anywhere else, I dare warrant.  Every soil bears not
everything, you know.  India alone boasts black ebony; the best incense is
produced in Sabaea; the sphragitid earth at Lemnos; so this island is the
only place where such fine pears grow.  You may, if you please, make
seminaries with their pippins in your country.

I like their taste extremely, said Pantagruel.  If they were sliced, and
put into a pan on the fire with wine and sugar, I fancy they would be very
wholesome meat for the sick, as well as for the healthy.  Pray what do you
call 'em?  No otherwise than you have heard, replied Homenas.  We are a
plain downright sort of people, as God would have it, and call figs, figs;
plums, plums; and pears, pears.  Truly, said Pantagruel, if I live to go
home--which I hope will be speedily, God willing--I'll set off and graff
some in my garden in Touraine, by the banks of the Loire, and will call
them bon-Christian or good-Christian pears, for I never saw better
Christians than are these good Papimans.  I would like him two to one
better yet, said Friar John, would he but give us two or three cartloads of
yon buxom lasses.  Why, what would you do with them? cried Homenas.  Quoth
Friar John, No harm, only bleed the kind-hearted souls straight between the
two great toes with certain clever lancets of the right stamp; by which
operation good Christian children would be inoculated upon them, and the
breed be multiplied in our country, in which there are not many over-good,
the more's the pity.

Nay, verily, replied Homenas, we cannot do this; for you would make them
tread their shoes awry, crack their pipkins, and spoil their shapes.  You
love mutton, I see; you will run at sheep.  I know you by that same nose
and hair of yours, though I never saw your face before.  Alas! alas! how
kind you are!  And would you indeed damn your precious soul?  Our decretals
forbid this.  Ah, I wish you had them at your finger's-end.  Patience, said
Friar John; but, si tu non vis dare, praesta, quaesumus.  Matter of
breviary.  As for that, I defy all the world, and I fear no man that wears
a head and a hood, though he were a crystalline, I mean a decretaline
doctor.

Dinner being over, we took our leave of the right reverend Homenas, and of
all the good people, humbly giving thanks; and, to make them amends for
their kind entertainment, promised them that, at our coming to Rome, we
would make our applications so effectually to the pope that he would
speedily be sure to come to visit them in person.  After this we went
o'board.

Pantagruel, by an act of generosity, and as an acknowledgment of the sight
of the pope's picture, gave Homenas nine pieces of double friezed cloth of
gold to be set before the grates of the window.  He also caused the church
box for its repairs and fabric to be quite filled with double crowns of
gold; and ordered nine hundred and fourteen angels to be delivered to each
of the lasses who had waited at table, to buy them husbands when they could
get them.

How Pantagruel, being at sea, heard various unfrozen words.

When we were at sea, junketting, tippling, discoursing, and telling
stories, Pantagruel rose and stood up to look out; then asked us, Do you
hear nothing, gentlemen?  Methinks I hear some people talking in the air,
yet I can see nobody.  Hark!  According to his command we listened, and
with full ears sucked in the air as some of you suck oysters, to find if we
could hear some sound scattered through the sky; and to lose none of it,
like the Emperor Antoninus some of us laid their hands hollow next to their
ears; but all this would not do, nor could we hear any voice.  Yet
Pantagruel continued to assure us he heard various voices in the air, some
of men, and some of women.

At last we began to fancy that we also heard something, or at least that
our ears tingled; and the more we listened, the plainer we discerned the
voices, so as to distinguish articulate sounds.  This mightily frightened
us, and not without cause; since we could see nothing, yet heard such
various sounds and voices of men, women, children, horses, &c., insomuch
that Panurge cried out, Cods-belly, there is no fooling with the devil; we
are all beshit, let's fly.  There is some ambuscado hereabouts.  Friar
John, art thou here my love?  I pray thee, stay by me, old boy.  Hast thou
got thy swindging tool?  See that it do not stick in thy scabbard; thou
never scourest it half as it should be.  We are undone.  Hark!  They are
guns, gad judge me.  Let's fly, I do not say with hands and feet, as Brutus
said at the battle of Pharsalia; I say, with sails and oars.  Let's whip it
away.  I never find myself to have a bit of courage at sea; in cellars and
elsewhere I have more than enough.  Let's fly and save our bacon.  I do not
say this for any fear that I have; for I dread nothing but danger, that I
don't; I always say it that shouldn't.  The free archer of Baignolet said
as much.  Let us hazard nothing, therefore, I say, lest we come off bluely.
Tack about, helm a-lee, thou son of a bachelor.  Would I were now well in
Quinquenais, though I were never to marry.  Haste away, let's make all the
sail we can.  They'll be too hard for us; we are not able to cope with
them; they are ten to our one, I'll warrant you.  Nay, and they are on
their dunghill, while we do not know the country.  They will be the death
of us.  We'll lose no honour by flying.  Demosthenes saith that the man
that runs away may fight another day.  At least let us retreat to the
leeward.  Helm a-lee; bring the main-tack aboard, haul the bowlines, hoist
the top-gallants.  We are all dead men; get off, in the devil's name, get
off.

Pantagruel, hearing the sad outcry which Panurge made, said, Who talks of
flying?  Let's first see who they are; perhaps they may be friends.  I can
discover nobody yet, though I can see a hundred miles round me.  But let's
consider a little.  I have read that a philosopher named Petron was of
opinion that there were several worlds that touched each other in an
equilateral triangle; in whose centre, he said, was the dwelling of truth;
and that the words, ideas, copies, and images of all things past and to
come resided there; round which was the age; and that with success of time
part of them used to fall on mankind like rheums and mildews, just as the
dew fell on Gideon's fleece, till the age was fulfilled.

I also remember, continued he, that Aristotle affirms Homer's words to be
flying, moving, and consequently animated.  Besides, Antiphanes said that
Plato's philosophy was like words which, being spoken in some country
during a hard winter, are immediately congealed, frozen up, and not heard;
for what Plato taught young lads could hardly be understood by them when
they were grown old.  Now, continued he, we should philosophize and search
whether this be not the place where those words are thawed.

You would wonder very much should this be the head and lyre of Orpheus.
When the Thracian women had torn him to pieces they threw his head and lyre
into the river Hebrus, down which they floated to the Euxine sea as far as
the island of Lesbos; the head continually uttering a doleful song, as it
were lamenting the death of Orpheus, and the lyre, with the wind's impulse
moving its strings and harmoniously accompanying the voice.  Let's see if
we cannot discover them hereabouts.

How among the frozen words Pantagruel found some odd ones.

The skipper made answer:  Be not afraid, my lord; we are on the confines of
the Frozen Sea, on which, about the beginning of last winter, happened a
great and bloody fight between the Arimaspians and the Nephelibates.  Then
the words and cries of men and women, the hacking, slashing, and hewing of
battle-axes, the shocking, knocking, and jolting of armours and harnesses,
the neighing of horses, and all other martial din and noise, froze in the
air; and now, the rigour of the winter being over, by the succeeding
serenity and warmth of the weather they melt and are heard.

By jingo, quoth Panurge, the man talks somewhat like.  I believe him.  But
couldn't we see some of 'em?  I think I have read that, on the edge of the
mountain on which Moses received the Judaic law, the people saw the voices
sensibly.  Here, here, said Pantagruel, here are some that are not yet
thawed.  He then threw us on the deck whole handfuls of frozen words, which
seemed to us like your rough sugar-plums, of many colours, like those used
in heraldry; some words gules (this means also jests and merry sayings),
some vert, some azure, some black, some or (this means also fair words);
and when we had somewhat warmed them between our hands, they melted like
snow, and we really heard them, but could not understand them, for it was a
barbarous gibberish.  One of them only, that was pretty big, having been
warmed between Friar John's hands, gave a sound much like that of chestnuts
when they are thrown into the fire without being first cut, which made us
all start.  This was the report of a field-piece in its time, cried Friar
John.

Panurge prayed Pantagruel to give him some more; but Pantagruel told him
that to give words was the part of a lover.  Sell me some then, I pray you,
cried Panurge.  That's the part of a lawyer, returned Pantagruel.  I would
sooner sell you silence, though at a dearer rate; as Demosthenes formerly
sold it by the means of his argentangina, or silver squinsy.

However, he threw three or four handfuls of them on the deck; among which I
perceived some very sharp words, and some bloody words, which the pilot
said used sometimes to go back and recoil to the place whence they came,
but it was with a slit weasand.  We also saw some terrible words, and some
others not very pleasant to the eye.

When they had been all melted together, we heard a strange noise, hin, hin,
hin, hin, his, tick, tock, taack, bredelinbrededack, frr, frr, frr, bou,
bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, track, track, trr, trr, trr, trrr,
trrrrrr, on, on, on, on, on, on, ououououon, gog, magog, and I do not know
what other barbarous words, which the pilot said were the noise made by the
charging squadrons, the shock and neighing of horses.

Then we heard some large ones go off like drums and fifes, and others like
clarions and trumpets.  Believe me, we had very good sport with them.  I
would fain have saved some merry odd words, and have preserved them in oil,
as ice and snow are kept, and between clean straw.  But Pantagruel would
not let me, saying that 'tis a folly to hoard up what we are never like to
want or have always at hand, odd, quaint, merry, and fat words of gules
never being scarce among all good and jovial Pantagruelists.

Panurge somewhat vexed Friar John, and put him in the pouts; for he took
him at his word while he dreamed of nothing less.  This caused the friar to
threaten him with such a piece of revenge as was put upon G. Jousseaume,
who having taken the merry Patelin at his word when he had overbid himself
in some cloth, was afterwards fairly taken by the horns like a bullock by
his jovial chapman, whom he took at his word like a man.  Panurge, well
knowing that threatened folks live long, bobbed and made mouths at him in
token of derision, then cried, Would I had here the word of the Holy
Bottle, without being thus obliged to go further in pilgrimage to her.

How Pantagruel went ashore at the dwelling of Gaster, the first master of
arts in the world.

That day Pantagruel went ashore in an island which, for situation and
governor, may be said not to have its fellow.  When you just come into it,
you find it rugged, craggy, and barren, unpleasant to the eye, painful to
the feet, and almost as inaccessible as the mountain of Dauphine, which is
somewhat like a toadstool, and was never climbed as any can remember by any
but Doyac, who had the charge of King Charles the Eighth's train of
artillery.

This same Doyac with strange tools and engines gained that mountain's top,
and there he found an old ram.  It puzzled many a wise head to guess how it
got thither.  Some said that some eagle or great horncoot, having carried
it thither while it was yet a lambkin, it had got away and saved itself
among the bushes.

As for us, having with much toil and sweat overcome the difficult ways at
the entrance, we found the top of the mountain so fertile, healthful, and
pleasant, that I thought I was then in the true garden of Eden, or earthly
paradise, about whose situation our good theologues are in such a quandary
and keep such a pother.

As for Pantagruel, he said that here was the seat of Arete--that is as much
as to say, virtue--described by Hesiod.  This, however, with submission to
better judgments.  The ruler of this place was one Master Gaster, the first
master of arts in this world.  For, if you believe that fire is the great
master of arts, as Tully writes, you very much wrong him and yourself;
alas! Tully never believed this.  On the other side, if you fancy Mercury
to be the first inventor of arts, as our ancient Druids believed of old,
you are mightily beside the mark.  The satirist's sentence, that affirms
Master Gaster to be the master of all arts, is true.  With him peacefully
resided old goody Penia, alias Poverty, the mother of the ninety-nine
Muses, on whom Porus, the lord of Plenty, formerly begot Love, that noble
child, the mediator of heaven and earth, as Plato affirms in Symposio.

We were all obliged to pay our homage and swear allegiance to that mighty
sovereign; for he is imperious, severe, blunt, hard, uneasy, inflexible;
you cannot make him believe, represent to him, or persuade him anything.

He does not hear; and as the Egyptians said that Harpocrates, the god of
silence, named Sigalion in Greek, was astome, that is, without a mouth, so
Gaster was created without ears, even like the image of Jupiter in Candia.

He only speaks by signs, but those signs are more readily obeyed by
everyone than the statutes of senates or commands of monarchs.  Neither
will he admit the least let or delay in his summons.  You say that when a
lion roars all the beasts at a considerable distance round about, as far as
his roar can be heard, are seized with a shivering.  This is written, it is
true, I have seen it. I assure you that at Master Gaster's command the very
heavens tremble, and all the earth shakes.  His command is called, Do this
or die.  Needs must when the devil drives; there's no gainsaying of it.

The pilot was telling us how, on a certain time, after the manner of the
members that mutinied against the belly, as Aesop describes it, the whole
kingdom of the Somates went off into a direct faction against Gaster,
resolving to throw off his yoke; but they soon found their mistake, and
most humbly submitted, for otherwise they had all been famished.

What company soever he is in, none dispute with him for precedence or
superiority; he still goes first, though kings, emperors, or even the pope,
were there.  So he held the first place at the council of Basle; though
some will tell you that the council was tumultuous by the contention and
ambition of many for priority.

Everyone is busied and labours to serve him, and indeed, to make amends for
this, he does this good to mankind, as to invent for them all arts,
machines, trades, engines, and crafts; he even instructs brutes in arts
which are against their nature, making poets of ravens, jackdaws,
chattering jays, parrots, and starlings, and poetesses of magpies, teaching
them to utter human language, speak, and sing; and all for the gut.  He
reclaims and tames eagles, gerfalcons, falcons gentle, sakers, lanners,
goshawks, sparrowhawks, merlins, haggards, passengers, wild rapacious
birds; so that, setting them free in the air whenever he thinks fit, as
high and as long as he pleases, he keeps them suspended, straying, flying,
hovering, and courting him above the clouds.  Then on a sudden he makes
them stoop, and come down amain from heaven next to the ground; and all for
the gut.

Elephants, lions, rhinoceroses, bears, horses, mares, and dogs, he teaches
to dance, prance, vault, fight, swim, hide themselves, fetch and carry what
he pleases; and all for the gut.

Salt and fresh-water fish, whales, and the monsters of the main, he brings
them up from the bottom of the deep; wolves he forces out of the woods,
bears out of the rocks, foxes out of their holes, and serpents out of the
ground, and all for the gut.

In short, he is so unruly, that in his rage he devours all men and beasts;
as was seen among the Vascons, when Q. Metellus besieged them in the
Sertorian wars, among the Saguntines besieged by Hannibal; among the Jews
besieged by the Romans, and six hundred more; and all for the gut.  When
his regent Penia takes a progress, wherever she moves all senates are shut
up, all statutes repealed, all orders and proclamations vain; she knows,
obeys, and has no law.  All shun her, in every place choosing rather to
expose themselves to shipwreck at sea, and venture through fire, rocks,
caves, and precipices, than be seized by that most dreadful tormentor.

How, at the court of the master of ingenuity, Pantagruel detested the
Engastrimythes and the Gastrolaters.

At the court of that great master of ingenuity, Pantagruel observed two
sorts of troublesome and too officious apparitors, whom he very much
detested.  The first were called Engastrimythes; the others, Gastrolaters.

The first pretended to be descended of the ancient race of Eurycles, and
for this brought the authority of Aristophanes in his comedy called the
Wasps; whence of old they were called Euryclians, as Plato writes, and
Plutarch in his book of the Cessation of Oracles.  In the holy decrees, 26,
qu. 3, they are styled Ventriloqui; and the same name is given them in
Ionian by Hippocrates, in his fifth book of Epid., as men who speak from
the belly.  Sophocles calls them Sternomantes.  These were soothsayers,
enchanters, cheats, who gulled the mob, and seemed not to speak and give
answers from the mouth, but from the belly.

Such a one, about the year of our Lord 1513, was Jacoba Rodogina, an
Italian woman of mean extract; from whose belly we, as well as an infinite
number of others at Ferrara and elsewhere, have often heard the voice of
the evil spirit speak, low, feeble, and small, indeed, but yet very
distinct, articulate, and intelligible, when she was sent for out of
curiosity by the lords and princes of the Cisalpine Gaul.  To remove all
manner of doubt, and be assured that this was not a trick, they used to
have her stripped stark naked, and caused her mouth and nose to be stopped.
This evil spirit would be called Curled-pate, or Cincinnatulo, seeming
pleased when any called him by that name, at which he was always ready to
answer.  If any spoke to him of things past or present, he gave pertinent
answers, sometimes to the amazement of the hearers; but if of things to
come, then the devil was gravelled, and used to lie as fast as a dog can
trot.  Nay, sometimes he seemed to own his ignorance, instead of an answer
letting out a rousing fart, or muttering some words with barbarous and
uncouth inflexions, and not to be understood.

As for the Gastrolaters, they stuck close to one another in knots and
gangs.  Some of them merry, wanton, and soft as so many milk-sops; others
louring, grim, dogged, demure, and crabbed; all idle, mortal foes to
business, spending half their time in sleeping and the rest in doing
nothing, a rent-charge and dead unnecessary weight on the earth, as Hesiod
saith; afraid, as we judged, of offending or lessening their paunch.
Others were masked, disguised, and so oddly dressed that it would have done
you good to have seen them.

There's a saying, and several ancient sages write, that the skill of nature
appears wonderful in the pleasure which she seems to have taken in the
configuration of sea-shells, so great is their variety in figures, colours,
streaks, and inimitable shapes.  I protest the variety we perceived in the
dresses of the gastrolatrous coquillons was not less.  They all owned
Gaster for their supreme god, adored him as a god, offered him sacrifices
as to their omnipotent deity, owned no other god, served, loved, and
honoured him above all things.

You would have thought that the holy apostle spoke of those when he said
(Phil. chap. 3), Many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you
even weeping, that they are enemies of the cross of Christ:  whose end is
destruction, whose God is their belly.  Pantagruel compared them to the
Cyclops Polyphemus, whom Euripides brings in speaking thus:  I only
sacrifice to myself--not to the gods--and to this belly of mine, the
greatest of all the gods.

Of the ridiculous statue Manduce; and how and what the Gastrolaters
sacrifice to their ventripotent god.

While we fed our eyes with the sight of the phizzes and actions of these
lounging gulligutted Gastrolaters, we on a sudden heard the sound of a
musical instrument called a bell; at which all of them placed themselves in
rank and file as for some mighty battle, everyone according to his office,
degree, and seniority.

In this order they moved towards Master Gaster, after a plump, young,
lusty, gorbellied fellow, who on a long staff fairly gilt carried a wooden
statue, grossly carved, and as scurvily daubed over with paint; such a one
as Plautus, Juvenal, and Pomp. Festus describe it.  At Lyons during the
Carnival it is called Maschecroute or Gnawcrust; they call'd this Manduce.

It was a monstrous, ridiculous, hideous figure, fit to fright little
children; its eyes were bigger than its belly, and its head larger than all
the rest of its body; well mouth-cloven however, having a goodly pair of
wide, broad jaws, lined with two rows of teeth, upper tier and under tier,
which, by the magic of a small twine hid in the hollow part of the golden
staff, were made to clash, clatter, and rattle dreadfully one against
another; as they do at Metz with St. Clement's dragon.

Coming near the Gastrolaters I saw they were followed by a great number of
fat waiters and tenders, laden with baskets, dossers, hampers, dishes,
wallets, pots, and kettles.  Then, under the conduct of Manduce, and
singing I do not know what dithyrambics, crepalocomes, and epenons, opening
their baskets and pots, they offered their god:

White hippocras,         Fricassees, nine       Cold loins of veal,
  with dry toasts.         sorts.                 with spice.
White bread.             Monastical brewis.     Zinziberine.
Brown bread.             Gravy soup.            Beatille pies.
Carbonadoes, six         Hotch-pots.            Brewis.
  sorts.                 Soft bread.            Marrow-bones, toast,
Brawn.                   Household bread.         and cabbage.
Sweetbreads.             Capirotadoes.          Hashes.

Eternal drink intermixed.  Brisk delicate white wine led the van; claret
and champagne followed, cool, nay, as cold as the very ice, I say, filled
and offered in large silver cups.  Then they offered:

Chitterlings, gar-       Chines and peas.       Hams.
  nished with mus-       Hog's haslets.         Brawn heads.
  tard.                  Scotch collops.        Powdered venison,
Sausages.                Puddings.                with turnips.
Neats' tongues.          Cervelats.             Pickled olives.
Hung beef.               Bologna sausages.

All this associated with sempiternal liquor.  Then they housed within his
muzzle:

Legs of mutton, with     Ribs of pork, with     Caponets.
  shallots.                onion sauce.         Caviare and toast.
Olias.                   Roast capons, basted   Fawns, deer.
Lumber pies, with          with their own       Hares, leverets.
  hot sauce.               dripping.            Plovers.
Partridges and young     Flamingoes.            Herons, and young
  partridges.            Cygnets.                 herons.
Dwarf-herons.            A reinforcement of     Olives.
Teals.                     vinegar intermixed.  Thrushes.
Duckers.                 Venison pasties.       Young sea-ravens.
Bitterns.                Lark pies.             Geese, goslings.
Shovellers.              Dormice pies.          Queests.
Curlews.                 Cabretto pasties.      Widgeons.
Wood-hens.               Roebuck pasties.       Mavises.
Coots, with leeks.       Pigeon pies.           Grouses.
Fat kids.                Kid pasties.           Turtles.
Shoulders of mutton,     Capon pies.            Doe-coneys.
  with capers.           Bacon pies.            Hedgehogs.
Sirloins of beef.        Soused hog's feet.     Snites.
Breasts of veal.         Fried pasty-crust.     Then large puffs.
Pheasants and phea-      Forced capons.         Thistle-finches.
  sant poots.            Parmesan cheese.       Whore's farts.
Peacocks.                Red and pale hip-      Fritters.
Storks.                    pocras.              Cakes, sixteen sorts.
Woodcocks.               Gold-peaches.          Crisp wafers.
Snipes.                  Artichokes.            Quince tarts.
Ortolans.                Dry and wet sweet-     Curds and cream.
Turkey cocks, hen          meats, seventy-      Whipped cream.
  turkeys, and turkey      eight sorts.         Preserved mirabo-
  poots.                 Boiled hens, and fat     lans.
Stock-doves, and           capons marinated.    Jellies.
  wood-culvers.          Pullets, with eggs.    Welsh barrapyclids.
Pigs, with wine sauce.   Chickens.              Macaroons.
Blackbirds, ousels, and  Rabbits, and sucking   Tarts, twenty sorts.
  rails.                   rabbits.             Lemon cream, rasp-
Moorhens.                Quails, and young        berry cream, &c.
Bustards, and bustard      quails.              Comfits, one hundred
  poots.                 Pigeons, squabs, and     colours.
Fig-peckers.               squeakers.           Cream wafers.
Young Guinea hens.       Fieldfares.            Cream cheese.

Vinegar brought up the rear to wash the mouth, and for fear of the squinsy;
also toasts to scour the grinders.

What the Gastrolaters sacrificed to their god on interlarded fish-days.

Pantagruel did not like this pack of rascally scoundrels with their
manifold kitchen sacrifices, and would have been gone had not Epistemon
prevailed with him to stay and see the end of the farce.  He then asked the
skipper what the idle lobcocks used to sacrifice to their gorbellied god on
interlarded fish-days.  For his first course, said the skipper, they gave
him:

Caviare.                  tops, bishop's-cods,    Red herrings.
Botargoes.                celery, chives, ram-    Pilchards.
Fresh butter.             pions, jew's-ears (a    Anchovies.
Pease soup.               sort of mushrooms       Fry of tunny.
Spinach.                  that sprout out of      Cauliflowers.
Fresh herrings, full      old elders), spara-     Beans.
  roed.                   gus, wood-bind,         Salt salmon.
Salads, a hundred         and a world of          Pickled grigs.
  varieties, of cres-     others.                 Oysters in the shell.
  ses, sodden hop-

Then he must drink, or the devil would gripe him at the throat; this,
therefore, they take care to prevent, and nothing is wanting.  Which being
done, they give him lampreys with hippocras sauce:

Gurnards.               Thornbacks.             Fried oysters.
Salmon trouts.          Sleeves.                Cockles.
Barbels, great and      Sturgeons.              Prawns.
  small.                Sheath-fish.            Smelts.
Roaches.                Mackerels.              Rock-fish.
Cockerels.              Maids.                  Gracious lords.
Minnows.                Plaice.                 Sword-fish.
Skate-fish.             Sharplings.             Soles.
Lamprels.               Tunnies.                Mussels.
Jegs.                   Silver eels.            Lobsters.
Pickerels.              Chevins.                Great prawns.
Golden carps.           Crayfish.               Dace.
Burbates.               Pallours.               Bleaks.
Salmons.                Shrimps.                Tenches.
Salmon-peels.           Congers.                Ombres.
Dolphins.               Porpoises.              Fresh cods.
Barn trouts.            Bases.                  Dried melwels.
Miller's-thumbs.        Shads.                  Darefish.
Precks.                 Murenes, a sort of      Fausens, and grigs.
Bret-fish.                lampreys.             Eel-pouts.
Flounders.              Graylings.              Tortoises.
Sea-nettles.            Smys.                   Serpents, i.e. wood-
Mullets.                Turbots.                  eels.
Gudgeons.               Trout, not above a      Dories.
Dabs and sandings.        foot long.            Moor-game.
Haddocks.               Salmons.                Perches.
Carps.                  Meagers.                Loaches.
Pikes.                  Sea-breams.             Crab-fish.
Bottitoes.              Halibuts.               Snails and whelks.
Rochets.                Dog's tongue, or kind   Frogs.
Sea-bears.                fool.

If, when he had crammed all this down his guttural trapdoor, he did not
immediately make the fish swim again in his paunch, death would pack him
off in a trice.  Special care is taken to antidote his godship with
vine-tree syrup.  Then is sacrificed to him haberdines, poor-jack,
minglemangled, mismashed, &c.

Eggs fried, beaten,       sliced, roasted in     Green-fish.
  buttered, poached,      the embers, tossed     Sea-batts.
  hardened, boiled,       in the chimney, &c.    Cod's sounds.
  broiled, stewed,      Stock-fish.              Sea-pikes.

Which to concoct and digest the more easily, vinegar is multiplied.  For
the latter part of their sacrifices they offer:

Rice milk, and hasty    Stewed prunes, and       Raisins.
  pudding.                baked bullace.         Dates.
Buttered wheat, and     Pistachios, or fistic    Chestnut and wal-
  flummery.               nuts.                    nuts.
Water-gruel, and        Figs.                    Filberts.
  milk-porridge.        Almond butter.           Parsnips.
Frumenty and bonny      Skirret root.            Artichokes.
  clamber.              White-pot.
              Perpetuity of soaking with the whole.

It was none of their fault, I will assure you, if this same god of theirs
was not publicly, preciously, and plentifully served in the sacrifices,
better yet than Heliogabalus's idol; nay, more than Bel and the Dragon in
Babylon, under King Belshazzar.  Yet Gaster had the manners to own that he
was no god, but a poor, vile, wretched creature.  And as King Antigonus,
first of the name, when one Hermodotus (as poets will flatter, especially
princes) in some of his fustian dubbed him a god, and made the sun adopt
him for his son, said to him:  My lasanophore (or, in plain English, my
groom of the close-stool) can give thee the lie; so Master Gaster very
civilly used to send back his bigoted worshippers to his close-stool, to
see, smell, taste, philosophize, and examine what kind of divinity they
could pick out of his sir-reverence.

How Gaster invented means to get and preserve corn.

Those gastrolatrous hobgoblins being withdrawn, Pantagruel carefully minded
the famous master of arts, Gaster.  You know that, by the institution of
nature, bread has been assigned him for provision and food; and that, as an
addition to this blessing, he should never want the means to get bread.

Accordingly, from the beginning he invented the smith's art, and husbandry
to manure the ground, that it might yield him corn; he invented arms and
the art of war to defend corn; physic and astronomy, with other parts of
mathematics which might be useful to keep corn a great number of years in
safety from the injuries of the air, beasts, robbers, and purloiners; he
invented water, wind, and handmills, and a thousand other engines to grind
corn and to turn it into meal; leaven to make the dough ferment, and the
use of salt to give it a savour; for he knew that nothing bred more
diseases than heavy, unleavened, unsavoury bread.

He found a way to get fire to bake it; hour-glasses, dials, and clocks to
mark the time of its baking; and as some countries wanted corn, he
contrived means to convey some out of one country into another.

He had the wit to pimp for asses and mares, animals of different species,
that they might copulate for the generation of a third, which we call
mules, more strong and fit for hard service than the other two.  He
invented carts and waggons to draw him along with greater ease; and as seas
and rivers hindered his progress, he devised boats, galleys, and ships (to
the astonishment of the elements) to waft him over to barbarous, unknown,
and far distant nations, thence to bring, or thither to carry corn.

Besides, seeing that when he had tilled the ground, some years the corn
perished in it for want of rain in due season, in others rotted or was
drowned by its excess, sometimes spoiled by hail, eat by worms in the ear,
or beaten down by storms, and so his stock was destroyed on the ground; we
were told that ever since the days of yore he has found out a way to
conjure the rain down from heaven only with cutting certain grass, common
enough in the field, yet known to very few, some of which was then shown
us.  I took it to be the same as the plant, one of whose boughs being
dipped by Jove's priest in the Agrian fountain on the Lycian mountain in
Arcadia, in time of drought raised vapours which gathered into clouds, and
then dissolved into rain that kindly moistened the whole country.

Our master of arts was also said to have found a way to keep the rain up in
the air, and make it to fall into the sea; also to annihilate the hail,
suppress the winds, and remove storms as the Methanensians of Troezene used
to do.  And as in the fields thieves and plunderers sometimes stole and
took by force the corn and bread which others had toiled to get, he
invented the art of building towns, forts, and castles, to hoard and secure
that staff of life.  On the other hand, finding none in the fields, and
hearing that it was hoarded up and secured in towns, forts, and castles,
and watched with more care than ever were the golden pippins of the
Hesperides, he turned engineer, and found ways to beat, storm, and demolish
forts and castles with machines and warlike thunderbolts, battering-rams,
ballists, and catapults, whose shapes were shown to us, not over-well
understood by our engineers, architects, and other disciples of Vitruvius;
as Master Philibert de l'Orme, King Megistus's principal architect, has
owned to us.

And seeing that sometimes all these tools of destruction were baffled by
the cunning subtlety or the subtle cunning (which you please) of
fortifiers, he lately invented cannons, field-pieces, culverins, bombards,
basiliskos, murdering instruments that dart iron, leaden, and brazen balls,
some of them outweighing huge anvils.  This by the means of a most dreadful
powder, whose hellish compound and effect has even amazed nature, and made
her own herself outdone by art, the Oxydracian thunders, hails, and storms
by which the people of that name immediately destroyed their enemies in the
field being but mere potguns to these.  For one of our great guns when used
is more dreadful, more terrible, more diabolical, and maims, tears, breaks,
slays, mows down, and sweeps away more men, and causes a greater
consternation and destruction than a hundred thunderbolts.

How Gaster invented an art to avoid being hurt or touched by cannon-balls.

Gaster having secured himself with his corn within strongholds, has
sometimes been attacked by enemies; his fortresses, by that thrice
threefold cursed instrument, levelled and destroyed; his dearly beloved
corn and bread snatched out of his mouth and sacked by a titanic force;
therefore he then sought means to preserve his walls, bastions, rampiers,
and sconces from cannon-shot, and to hinder the bullets from hitting him,
stopping them in their flight, or at least from doing him or the besieged
walls any damage.  He showed us a trial of this which has been since used
by Fronton, and is now common among the pastimes and harmless recreations
of the Thelemites.  I will tell you how he went to work, and pray for the
future be a little more ready to believe what Plutarch affirms to have
tried.  Suppose a herd of goats were all scampering as if the devil drove
them, do but put a bit of eringo into the mouth of the hindmost nanny, and
they will all stop stock still in the time you can tell three.

Thus Gaster, having caused a brass falcon to be charged with a sufficient
quantity of gunpowder well purged from its sulphur, and curiously made up
with fine camphor, he then had a suitable ball put into the piece, with
twenty-four little pellets like hail-shot, some round, some pearl fashion;
then taking his aim and levelling it at a page of his, as if he would have
hit him on the breast.  About sixty strides off the piece, halfway between
it and the page in a right line, he hanged on a gibbet by a rope a very
large siderite or iron-like stone, otherwise called herculean, formerly
found on Ida in Phrygia by one Magnes, as Nicander writes, and commonly
called loadstone; then he gave fire to the prime on the piece's touch-hole,
which in an instant consuming the powder, the ball and hail-shot were with
incredible violence and swiftness hurried out of the gun at its muzzle,
that the air might penetrate to its chamber, where otherwise would have
been a vacuum, which nature abhors so much, that this universal machine,
heaven, air, land, and sea, would sooner return to the primitive chaos than
admit the least void anywhere.  Now the ball and small shot, which
threatened the page with no less than quick destruction, lost their
impetuosity and remained suspended and hovering round the stone; nor did
any of them, notwithstanding the fury with which they rushed, reach the
page.

Master Gaster could do more than all this yet, if you will believe me; for
he invented a way how to cause bullets to fly backwards, and recoil on
those that sent them with as great a force, and in the very numerical
parallel for which the guns were planted.  And indeed, why should he have
thought this difficult? seeing the herb ethiopis opens all locks
whatsoever, and an echinus or remora, a silly weakly fish, in spite of all
the winds that blow from the thirty-two points of the compass, will in the
midst of a hurricane make you the biggest first-rate remain stock still, as
if she were becalmed or the blustering tribe had blown their last.  Nay,
and with the flesh of that fish, preserved with salt, you may fish gold out
of the deepest well that was ever sounded with a plummet; for it will
certainly draw up the precious metal, since Democritus affirmed it.
Theophrastus believed and experienced that there was an herb at whose
single touch an iron wedge, though never so far driven into a huge log of
the hardest wood that is, would presently come out; and it is this same
herb your hickways, alias woodpeckers, use, when with some mighty axe
anyone stops up the hole of their nests, which they industriously dig and
make in the trunk of some sturdy tree.  Since stags and hinds, when deeply
wounded with darts, arrows, and bolts, if they do but meet the herb called
dittany, which is common in Candia, and eat a little of it, presently the
shafts come out and all is well again; even as kind Venus cured her beloved
byblow Aeneas when he was wounded on the right thigh with an arrow by
Juturna, Turnus's sister.  Since the very wind of laurels, fig-trees, or
sea-calves makes the thunder sheer off insomuch that it never strikes them.
Since at the sight of a ram, mad elephants recover their former senses.
Since mad bulls coming near wild fig-trees, called caprifici, grow tame,
and will not budge a foot, as if they had the cramp.  Since the venomous
rage of vipers is assuaged if you but touch them with a beechen bough.
Since also Euphorion writes that in the isle of Samos, before Juno's temple
was built there, he has seen some beasts called neades, whose voice made
the neighbouring places gape and sink into a chasm and abyss.  In short,
since elders grow of a more pleasing sound, and fitter to make flutes, in
such places where the crowing of cocks is not heard, as the ancient sages
have writ and Theophrastus relates; as if the crowing of a cock dulled,
flattened, and perverted the wood of the elder, as it is said to astonish
and stupify with fear that strong and resolute animal, a lion.  I know that
some have understood this of wild elder, that grows so far from towns or
villages that the crowing of cocks cannot reach near it; and doubtless that
sort ought to be preferred to the stenching common elder that grows about
decayed and ruined places; but others have understood this in a higher
sense, not literal, but allegorical, according to the method of the
Pythagoreans, as when it was said that Mercury's statue could not be made
of every sort of wood; to which sentence they gave this sense, that God is
not to be worshipped in a vulgar form, but in a chosen and religious
manner.  In the same manner, by this elder which grows far from places
where cocks are heard, the ancients meant that the wise and studious ought
not to give their minds to trivial or vulgar music, but to that which is
celestial, divine, angelical, more abstracted, and brought from remoter
parts, that is, from a region where the crowing of cocks is not heard; for,
to denote a solitary and unfrequented place, we say cocks are never heard
to crow there.

How Pantagruel fell asleep near the island of Chaneph, and of the problems
proposed to be solved when he waked.

The next day, merrily pursuing our voyage, we came in sight of the island
of Chaneph, where Pantagruel's ship could not arrive, the wind chopping
about, and then failing us so that we were becalmed, and could hardly get
ahead, tacking about from starboard to larboard, and larboard to starboard,
though to our sails we added drabblers.

With this accident we were all out of sorts, moping, drooping,
metagrabolized, as dull as dun in the mire, in C sol fa ut flat, out of
tune, off the hinges, and I-don't-know-howish, without caring to speak one
single syllable to each other.

Pantagruel was taking a nap, slumbering and nodding on the quarter-deck by
the cuddy, with an Heliodorus in his hand; for still it was his custom to
sleep better by book than by heart.

Epistemon was conjuring, with his astrolabe, to know what latitude we were
in.

Friar John was got into the cook-room, examining, by the ascendant of the
spits and the horoscope of ragouts and fricassees, what time of day it
might then be.

Panurge (sweet baby!) held a stalk of Pantagruelions, alias hemp, next his
tongue, and with it made pretty bubbles and bladders.

Gymnast was making tooth-pickers with lentisk.

Ponocrates, dozing, dozed, and dreaming, dreamed; tickled himself to make
himself laugh, and with one finger scratched his noddle where it did not
itch.

Carpalin, with a nutshell and a trencher of verne (that's a card in
Gascony), was making a pretty little merry windmill, cutting the card
longways into four slips, and fastening them with a pin to the convex of
the nut, and its concave to the tarred side of the gunnel of the ship.

Eusthenes, bestriding one of the guns, was playing on it with his fingers
as if it had been a trump-marine.

Rhizotome, with the soft coat of a field tortoise, alias ycleped a mole,
was making himself a velvet purse.

Xenomanes was patching up an old weather-beaten lantern with a hawk's
jesses.

Our pilot (good man!) was pulling maggots out of the seamen's noses.

At last Friar John, returning from the forecastle, perceived that
Pantagruel was awake.  Then breaking this obstinate silence, he briskly and
cheerfully asked him how a man should kill time, and raise good weather,
during a calm at sea.

Panurge, whose belly thought his throat cut, backed the motion presently,
and asked for a pill to purge melancholy.

Epistemon also came on, and asked how a man might be ready to bepiss
himself with laughing when he has no heart to be merry.

Gymnast, arising, demanded a remedy for a dimness of eyes.

Ponocrates, after he had a while rubbed his noddle and shaken his ears,
asked how one might avoid dog-sleep.  Hold! cried Pantagruel, the
Peripatetics have wisely made a rule that all problems, questions, and
doubts which are offered to be solved ought to be certain, clear, and
intelligible.  What do you mean by dog-sleep?  I mean, answered Ponocrates,
to sleep fasting in the sun at noonday, as the dogs do.

Rhizotome, who lay stooping on the pump, raised his drowsy head, and lazily
yawning, by natural sympathy set almost everyone in the ship a-yawning too;
then he asked for a remedy against oscitations and gapings.

Xenomanes, half puzzled, and tired out with new-vamping his antiquated
lantern, asked how the hold of the stomach might be so well ballasted and
freighted from the keel to the main hatch, with stores well stowed, that
our human vessels might not heel or be walt, but well trimmed and stiff.

Carpalin, twirling his diminutive windmill, asked how many motions are to
be felt in nature before a gentleman may be said to be hungry.

Eusthenes, hearing them talk, came from between decks, and from the capstan
called out to know why a man that is fasting, bit by a serpent also
fasting, is in greater danger of death than when man and serpent have eat
their breakfasts;--why a man's fasting-spittle is poisonous to serpents and
venomous creatures.

One single solution may serve for all your problems, gentlemen, answered
Pantagruel; and one single medicine for all such symptoms and accidents.
My answer shall be short, not to tire you with a long needless train of
pedantic cant.  The belly has no ears, nor is it to be filled with fair
words; you shall be answered to content by signs and gestures.  As formerly
at Rome, Tarquin the Proud, its last king, sent an answer by signs to his
son Sextus, who was among the Gabii at Gabii.  (Saying this, he pulled the
string of a little bell, and Friar John hurried away to the cook-room.)
The son having sent his father a messenger to know how he might bring the
Gabii under a close subjection, the king, mistrusting the messenger, made
him no answer, and only took him into his privy garden, and in his presence
with his sword lopped off the heads of the tall poppies that were there.
The express returned without any other despatch, yet having related to the
prince what he had seen his father do, he easily understood that by those
signs he advised him to cut off the heads of the chief men in the town, the
better to keep under the rest of the people.

How Pantagruel gave no answer to the problems.

Pantagruel then asked what sort of people dwelt in that damned island.
They are, answered Xenomanes, all hypocrites, holy mountebanks, tumblers of
beads, mumblers of ave-marias, spiritual comedians, sham saints, hermits,
all of them poor rogues who, like the hermit of Lormont between Blaye and
Bordeaux, live wholly on alms given them by passengers.  Catch me there if
you can, cried Panurge; may the devil's head-cook conjure my bumgut into a
pair of bellows if ever you find me among them!  Hermits, sham saints,
living forms of mortification, holy mountebanks, avaunt! in the name of
your father Satan, get out of my sight!  When the devil's a hog, you shall
eat bacon.  I shall not forget yet awhile our fat Concilipetes of Chesil.
O that Beelzebub and Astaroth had counselled them to hang themselves out of
the way, and they had done't! we had not then suffered so much by devilish
storms as we did for having seen 'em.  Hark ye me, dear rogue, Xenomanes,
my friend, I prithee are these hermits, hypocrites, and eavesdroppers maids
or married?  Is there anything of the feminine gender among them?  Could a
body hypocritically take there a small hypocritical touch?  Will they lie
backwards, and let out their fore-rooms?  There's a fine question to be
asked, cried Pantagruel.  Yes, yes, answered Xenomanes; you may find there
many goodly hypocritesses, jolly spiritual actresses, kind hermitesses,
women that have a plaguy deal of religion; then there's the copies of 'em,
little hypocritillons, sham sanctitos, and hermitillons.  Foh! away with
them, cried Friar John; a young saint, an old devil!  (Mark this, an old
saying, and as true a one as, a young whore, an old saint.)  Were there not
such, continued Xenomanes, the isle of Chaneph, for want of a
multiplication of progeny, had long ere this been desert and desolate.

Pantagruel sent them by Gymnast in the pinnace seventy-eight thousand fine
pretty little gold half-crowns, of those that are marked with a lantern.
After this he asked, What's o'clock?  Past nine, answered Epistemon.  It is
then the best time to go to dinner, said Pantagruel; for the sacred line so
celebrated by Aristophanes in his play called Concionatrices is at hand,
never failing when the shadow is decempedal.

Formerly, among the Persians, dinner-time was at a set hour only for kings;
as for all others, their appetite and their belly was their clock; when
that chimed, they thought it time to go to dinner.  So we find in Plautus a
certain parasite making a heavy do, and sadly railing at the inventors of
hour-glasses and dials as being unnecessary things, there being no clock
more regular than the belly.

Diogenes being asked at what times a man ought to eat, answered, The rich
when he is hungry, the poor when he has anything to eat.  Physicians more
properly say that the canonical hours are,

  To rise at five, to dine at nine,
  To sup at five, to sleep at nine.

The famous king Petosiris's magic was different,--Here the officers for the
gut came in, and got ready the tables and cupboards; laid the cloth, whose
sight and pleasant smell were very comfortable; and brought plates,
napkins, salts, tankards, flagons, tall-boys, ewers, tumblers, cups,
goblets, basins, and cisterns.

Friar John, at the head of the stewards, sewers, yeomen of the pantry, and
of the mouth, tasters, carvers, cupbearers, and cupboard-keepers, brought
four stately pasties, so huge that they put me in mind of the four bastions
at Turin.  Ods-fish, how manfully did they storm them!  What havoc did they
make with the long train of dishes that came after them!  How bravely did
they stand to their pan-puddings, and paid off their dust!  How merrily did
they soak their noses!

The fruit was not yet brought in, when a fresh gale at west and by north
began to fill the main-course, mizen-sail, fore-sail, tops, and
top-gallants; for which blessing they all sung divers hymns of thanks and
praise.

When the fruit was on the table, Pantagruel asked, Now tell me, gentlemen,
are your doubts fully resolved or no?  I gape and yawn no more, answered
Rhizotome.  I sleep no longer like a dog, said Ponocrates.  I have cleared
my eyesight, said Gymnast.  I have broke my fast, said Eusthenes; so that
for this whole day I shall be secure from the danger of my spittle.

Asps.             Black wag leg-flies.  Domeses.
Amphisbenes.      Spanish flies.        Dryinades.
Anerudutes.       Catoblepes.           Dragons.
Abedissimons.     Horned snakes.        Elopes.
Alhartrafz.       Caterpillars.         Enhydrides.
Ammobates.        Crocodiles.           Falvises.
Apimaos.          Toads.                Galeotes.
Alhatrabans.      Nightmares.           Harmenes.
Aractes.          Mad dogs.             Handons.
Asterions.        Colotes.              Icles.
Alcharates.       Cychriodes.           Jarraries.
Arges.            Cafezates.            Ilicines.
Spiders.          Cauhares.             Pharaoh's mice.
Starry lizards.   Snakes.               Kesudures.
Attelabes.        Cuhersks, two-        Sea-hares.
Ascalabotes.        tongued adders.     Chalcidic newts.
Haemorrhoids.     Amphibious ser-       Footed serpents.
Basilisks.          pents.              Manticores.
Fitches.          Cenchres.             Molures.
Sucking water-    Cockatrices.          Mouse-serpents.
  snakes.         Dipsades.             Shrew-mice.
Miliares.         Salamanders.          Stinkfish.
Megalaunes.       Slowworms.            Stuphes.
Spitting-asps.    Stellions.            Sabrins.
Porphyri.         Scorpenes.            Blood-sucking flies.
Pareades.         Scorpions.            Hornfretters.
Phalanges.        Hornworms.            Scolopendres.
Penphredons.      Scalavotins.          Tarantulas.
Pinetree-worms.   Solofuidars.          Blind worms.
Ruteles.          Deaf-asps.            Tetragnathias.
Worms.            Horseleeches.         Teristales.
Rhagions.         Salt-haters.          Vipers, &c.
Rhaganes.         Rot-serpents.

How Pantagruel passed the time with his servants.

In what hierarchy of such venomous creatures do you place Panurge's future
spouse? asked Friar John.  Art thou speaking ill of women, cried Panurge,
thou mangy scoundrel, thou sorry, noddy-peaked shaveling monk?  By the
cenomanic paunch and gixy, said Epistemon, Euripides has written, and makes
Andromache say it, that by industry, and the help of the gods, men had
found remedies against all poisonous creatures; but none was yet found
against a bad wife.

This flaunting Euripides, cried Panurge, was gabbling against women every
foot, and therefore was devoured by dogs, as a judgment from above; as
Aristophanes observes.  Let's go on.  Let him speak that is next.  I can
leak now like any stone-horse, said then Epistemon.  I am, said Xenomanes,
full as an egg and round as a hoop; my ship's hold can hold no more, and
will now make shift to bear a steady sail.  Said Carpalin, A truce with
thirst, a truce with hunger; they are strong, but wine and meat are
stronger.  I'm no more in the dumps cried Panurge; my heart's a pound
lighter.  I'm in the right cue now, as brisk as a body-louse, and as merry
as a beggar.  For my part, I know what I do when I drink; and it is a true
thing (though 'tis in your Euripides) that is said by that jolly toper
Silenus of blessed memory, that--

  The man's emphatically mad,
  Who drinks the best, yet can be sad.

We must not fail to return our humble and hearty thanks to the Being who,
with this good bread, this cool delicious wine, these good meats and rare
dainties, removes from our bodies and minds these pains and perturbations,
and at the same time fills us with pleasure and with food.

But methinks, sir, you did not give an answer to Friar John's question;
which, as I take it, was how to raise good weather.  Since you ask no more
than this easy question, answered Pantagruel, I'll strive to give you
satisfaction; and some other time we'll talk of the rest of the problems,
if you will.

Well then, Friar John asked how good weather might be raised.  Have we not
raised it?  Look up and see our full topsails.  Hark how the wind whistles
through the shrouds, what a stiff gale it blows.  Observe the rattling of
the tacklings, and see the sheets that fasten the mainsail behind; the
force of the wind puts them upon the stretch.  While we passed our time
merrily, the dull weather also passed away; and while we raised the glasses
to our mouths, we also raised the wind by a secret sympathy in nature.

Thus Atlas and Hercules clubbed to raise and underprop the falling sky, if
you'll believe the wise mythologists, but they raised it some half an inch
too high, Atlas to entertain his guest Hercules more pleasantly, and
Hercules to make himself amends for the thirst which some time before had
tormented him in the deserts of Africa.  Your good father, said Friar John,
interrupting him, takes care to free many people from such an
inconveniency; for I have been told by many venerable doctors that his
chief-butler, Turelupin, saves above eighteen hundred pipes of wine yearly
to make servants, and all comers and goers, drink before they are a-dry.
As the camels and dromedaries of a caravan, continued Pantagruel, use to
drink for the thirst that's past, for the present, and for that to come, so
did Hercules; and being thus excessively raised, this gave new motion to
the sky, which is that of titubation and trepidation, about which our
crackbrained astrologers make such a pother.  This, said Panurge, makes the
saying good:

  While jolly companions carouse it together,
  A fig for the storm, it gives way to good weather.

Nay, continued Pantagruel, some will tell you that we have not only
shortened the time of the calm, but also much disburthened the ship; not
like Aesop's basket, by easing it of the provision, but by breaking our
fasts; and that a man is more terrestrial and heavy when fasting than when
he has eaten and drank, even as they pretend that he weighs more dead than
living.  However it is, you will grant they are in the right who take their
morning's draught and breakfast before a long journey; then say that the
horses will perform the better, and that a spur in the head is worth two in
the flank; or, in the same horse dialect--

  That a cup in the pate
  Is a mile in the gate.

Don't you know that formerly the Amycleans worshipped the noble Bacchus
above all other gods, and gave him the name of Psila, which in the Doric
dialect signifies wings; for, as the birds raise themselves by a towering
flight with their wings above the clouds, so, with the help of soaring
Bacchus, the powerful juice of the grape, our spirits are exalted to a
pitch above themselves, our bodies are more sprightly, and their earthly
parts become soft and pliant.

How, by Pantagruel's order, the Muses were saluted near the isle of
Ganabim.

This fair wind and as fine talk brought us in sight of a high land, which
Pantagruel discovering afar off, showed it Xenomanes, and asked him, Do you
see yonder to the leeward a high rock with two tops, much like Mount
Parnassus in Phocis?  I do plainly, answered Xenomanes; 'tis the isle of
Ganabim.  Have you a mind to go ashore there?  No, returned Pantagruel.
You do well, indeed, said Xenomanes; for there is nothing worth seeing in
the place.  The people are all thieves; yet there is the finest fountain in
the world, and a very large forest towards the right top of the mountain.
Your fleet may take in wood and water there.

He that spoke last, spoke well, quoth Panurge; let us not by any means be
so mad as to go among a parcel of thieves and sharpers.  You may take my
word for't, this place is just such another as, to my knowledge, formerly
were the islands of Sark and Herm, between the smaller and the greater
Britain; such as was the Poneropolis of Philip in Thrace; islands of
thieves, banditti, picaroons, robbers, ruffians, and murderers, worse than
raw-head and bloody-bones, and full as honest as the senior fellows of the
college of iniquity, the very outcasts of the county gaol's common-side.
As you love yourself, do not go among 'em.  If you go you'll come off but
bluely, if you come off at all.  If you will not believe me, at least
believe what the good and wise Xenomanes tells you; for may I never stir if
they are not worse than the very cannibals; they would certainly eat us
alive.  Do not go among 'em, I pray you; it were safer to take a journey to
hell.  Hark! by Cod's body, I hear 'em ringing the alarm-bell most
dreadfully, as the Gascons about Bordeaux used formerly to do against the
commissaries and officers for the tax on salt, or my ears tingle.  Let's
sheer off.

Believe me, sir, said Friar John, let's rather land; we will rid the world
of that vermin, and inn there for nothing.  Old Nick go with thee for me,
quoth Panurge.  This rash hairbrained devil of a friar fears nothing, but
ventures and runs on like a mad devil as he is, and cares not a rush what
becomes of others; as if everyone was a monk, like his friarship.  A pox on
grinning honour, say I.  Go to, returned the friar, thou mangy noddy-peak!
thou forlorn druggle-headed sneaksby! and may a million of black devils
anatomize thy cockle brain.  The hen-hearted rascal is so cowardly that he
berays himself for fear every day.  If thou art so afraid, dunghill, do not
go; stay here and be hanged; or go and hide thy loggerhead under Madam
Proserpine's petticoat.

Panurge hearing this, his breech began to make buttons; so he slunk in in
an instant, and went to hide his head down in the bread-room among the
musty biscuits and the orts and scraps of broken bread.

Pantagruel in the meantime said to the rest:  I feel a pressing retraction
in my soul, which like a voice admonishes me not to land there.  Whenever I
have felt such a motion within me I have found myself happy in avoiding
what it directed me to shun, or in undertaking what it prompted me to do;
and I never had occasion to repent following its dictates.

As much, said Epistemon, is related of the daemon of Socrates, so
celebrated among the Academics.  Well then, sir, said Friar John, while the
ship's crew water have you a mind to have good sport?  Panurge is got down
somewhere in the hold, where he is crept into some corner, and lurks like a
mouse in a cranny.  Let 'em give the word for the gunner to fire yon gun
over the round-house on the poop; this will serve to salute the Muses of
this Anti-parnassus; besides, the powder does but decay in it.  You are in
the right, said Pantagruel; here, give the word for the gunner.

The gunner immediately came, and was ordered by Pantagruel to fire that
gun, and then charge it with fresh powder, which was soon done.  The
gunners of the other ships, frigates, galleons, and galleys of the fleet,
hearing us fire, gave every one a gun to the island; which made such a
horrid noise that you would have sworn heaven had been tumbling about our
ears.

How Panurge berayed himself for fear; and of the huge cat Rodilardus, which
he took for a puny devil.

Panurge, like a wild, addle-pated, giddy-goat, sallies out of the
bread-room in his shirt, with nothing else about him but one of his
stockings, half on, half off, about his heel, like a rough-footed pigeon;
his hair and beard all bepowdered with crumbs of bread in which he had been
over head and ears, and a huge and mighty puss partly wrapped up in his
other stocking.  In this equipage, his chaps moving like a monkey's who's
a-louse-hunting, his eyes staring like a dead pig's, his teeth chattering,
and his bum quivering, the poor dog fled to Friar John, who was then sitting
by the chain-wales of the starboard side of the ship, and prayed him
heartily to take pity on him and keep him in the safeguard of his trusty
bilbo; swearing, by his share of Papimany, that he had seen all hell broke
loose.

Woe is me, my Jacky, cried he, my dear Johnny, my old crony, my brother, my
ghostly father! all the devils keep holiday, all the devils keep their
feast to-day, man.  Pork and peas choke me if ever thou sawest such
preparations in thy life for an infernal feast.  Dost thou see the smoke of
hell's kitchens?  (This he said, showing him the smoke of the gunpowder
above the ships.)  Thou never sawest so many damned souls since thou wast
born; and so fair, so bewitching they seem, that one would swear they are
Stygian ambrosia.  I thought at first, God forgive me! that they had been
English souls; and I don't know but that this morning the isle of Horses,
near Scotland, was sacked, with all the English who had surprised it, by
the lords of Termes and Essay.

Friar John, at the approach of Panurge, was entertained with a kind of
smell that was not like that of gunpowder, nor altogether so sweet as musk;
which made him turn Panurge about, and then he saw that his shirt was
dismally bepawed and berayed with fresh sir-reverence.  The retentive
faculty of the nerve which restrains the muscle called sphincter ('tis the
arse-hole, an it please you) was relaxated by the violence of the fear
which he had been in during his fantastic visions.  Add to this the
thundering noise of the shooting, which seems more dreadful between decks
than above.  Nor ought you to wonder at such a mishap; for one of the
symptoms and accidents of fear is, that it often opens the wicket of the
cupboard wherein second-hand meat is kept for a time.  Let's illustrate
this noble theme with some examples.

Messer Pantolfe de la Cassina of Siena, riding post from Rome, came to
Chambery, and alighting at honest Vinet's took one of the pitchforks in the
stable; then turning to the innkeeper, said to him, Da Roma in qua io non
son andato del corpo.  Di gratia piglia in mano questa forcha, et fa mi
paura.  (I have not had a stool since I left Rome.  I pray thee take this
pitchfork and fright me.)  Vinet took it, and made several offers as if he
would in good earnest have hit the signor, but all in vain; so the Sienese
said to him, Si tu non fai altramente, tu non fai nulla; pero sforzati di
adoperarli piu guagliardamente.  (If thou dost not go another way to work,
thou hadst as good do nothing; therefore try to bestir thyself more
briskly.)  With this, Vinet lent him such a swinging stoater with the
pitchfork souse between the neck and the collar of his jerkin, that down
fell signor on the ground arsyversy, with his spindle shanks wide
straggling over his poll.  Then mine host sputtering, with a full-mouthed
laugh, said to his guest, By Beelzebub's bumgut, much good may it do you,
Signore Italiano.  Take notice this is datum Camberiaci, given at Chambery.
'Twas well the Sienese had untrussed his points and let down his drawers;
for this physic worked with him as soon as he took it, and as copious was
the evacuation as that of nine buffaloes and fourteen missificating
arch-lubbers.  Which operation being over, the mannerly Sienese courteously
gave mine host a whole bushel of thanks, saying to him, Io ti ringratio, bel
messere; cosi facendo tu m' ai esparmiata la speza d'un servitiale.  (I
thank thee, good landlord; by this thou hast e'en saved me the expense of a
clyster.)

I'll give you another example of Edward V., King of England.  Master
Francis Villon, being banished France, fled to him, and got so far into his
favour as to be privy to all his household affairs.  One day the king,
being on his close-stool, showed Villon the arms of France, and said to
him, Dost thou see what respect I have for thy French kings?  I have none
of their arms anywhere but in this backside, near my close-stool.
Ods-life, said the buffoon, how wise, prudent, and careful of your health
your highness is!  How carefully your learned doctor, Thomas Linacre, looks
after you!  He saw that now you grow old you are inclined to be somewhat
costive, and every day were fain to have an apothecary, I mean a suppository
or clyster, thrust into your royal nockandroe; so he has, much to the
purpose, induced you to place here the arms of France; for the very sight of
them puts you into such a dreadful fright that you immediately let fly as
much as would come from eighteen squattering bonasi of Paeonia.  And if they
were painted in other parts of your house, by jingo, you would presently
conskite yourself wherever you saw them.  Nay, had you but here a picture of
the great oriflamme of France, ods-bodikins, your tripes and bowels would be
in no small danger of dropping out at the orifice of your posteriors.  But
henh, henh, atque iterum henh.

  A silly cockney am I not,
    As ever did from Paris come?
  And with a rope and sliding knot
    My neck shall know what weighs my bum.

A cockney of short reach, I say, shallow of judgment and judging shallowly,
to wonder that you should cause your points to be untrussed in your chamber
before you come into this closet.  By'r lady, at first I thought your
close-stool had stood behind the hangings of your bed; otherwise it seemed
very odd to me you should untruss so far from the place of evacuation.  But
now I find I was a gull, a wittol, a woodcock, a mere ninny, a dolt-head, a
noddy, a changeling, a calf-lolly, a doddipoll.  You do wisely, by the
mass, you do wisely; for had you not been ready to clap your hind face on
the mustard-pot as soon as you came within sight of these arms--mark ye me,
cop's body--the bottom of your breeches had supplied the office of a
close-stool.

Friar John, stopping the handle of his face with his left hand, did, with
the forefinger of the right, point out Panurge's shirt to Pantagruel, who,
seeing him in this pickle, scared, appalled, shivering, raving, staring,
berayed, and torn with the claws of the famous cat Rodilardus, could not
choose but laugh, and said to him, Prithee what wouldst thou do with this
cat?  With this cat? quoth Panurge; the devil scratch me if I did not think
it had been a young soft-chinned devil, which, with this same stocking
instead of mitten, I had snatched up in the great hutch of hell as
thievishly as any sizar of Montague college could have done.  The devil
take Tybert!  I feel it has all bepinked my poor hide, and drawn on it to
the life I don't know how many lobsters' whiskers.  With this he threw his
boar-cat down.

Go, go, said Pantagruel, be bathed and cleaned, calm your fears, put on a
clean shift, and then your clothes.  What! do you think I am afraid? cried
Panurge.  Not I, I protest.  By the testicles of Hercules, I am more
hearty, bold, and stout, though I say it that should not, than if I had
swallowed as many flies as are put into plumcakes and other paste at Paris
from Midsummer to Christmas.  But what's this?  Hah! oh, ho! how the devil
came I by this?  Do you call this what the cat left in the malt, filth,
dirt, dung, dejection, faecal matter, excrement, stercoration,
sir-reverence, ordure, second-hand meats, fumets, stronts, scybal, or
spyrathe? 'Tis Hibernian saffron, I protest.  Hah, hah, hah! 'tis Irish
saffron, by Shaint Pautrick, and so much for this time.  Selah.  Let's
drink.

The fourth book begins where the third book left off. Pantagruel, Panurge, Epistemon, Friar John, and all the other companions prepare the eleven ships for the voyage to The Oracle of the Holy Bottle in Lantern Land. Pantagruel names his flagship the Thalamege, and each of the other ten ships is identified by items hung on the stern of each ship, and these items signify different aspects of the mission or they are charms meant to attract good fortune during the mission. Pantagruel and his companions plan to leave from the port of Thalassa, and they have chartered a route that will take them around Africa and up by India within four months. After traveling for several months by sea, Pantagruel and his companions finally make their way to the island of Medamothy. On this peculiar island, all of Pantagruel's companions purchase unique items. Pantagruel himself purchases three unicorns, tapestries that relate the story of Achilles' adventurers, beautiful paintings, and a beast known as a tarand, which is as big as a bull with the head of a deer and has fur that changes color based on its surroundings. It is on the island of Medamothy where Pantagruel receives word from his father via one of his father's servants, Malicorne, who was able to arrive so quickly, because he rode on a smaller ship, the Chelidonia, which is capable of faster speeds. Malicorne brings good tidings from his father as well as a letter. Malicorne also provides Pantagruel with a pigeon so that Pantagruel may send his father a simple message through the use of attaching a colored ribbon to the leg of the pigeon. According to their prearranged code, a black ribbon would imply that something horrible has occurred, whereas a white ribbon would explain that all was well. Having experienced no tragedies upon the voyage thus far, Pantagruel attaches a white ribbon to the leg of the pigeon, and lets it fly homeward to his father. Pantagruel also writes to his father, thanking his father for his thoughtfulness in sending a messenger to him. Within his letter, Pantagruel also explains that he will be sending back several curious items that he has recently purchased, including the unicorns, the Achilles tapestry, and the strange tarand beast. Pantagruel wishes his father well in the letter, and implies that he will write to his father as often as possible concerning the adventures of the voyage to the oracle. Pantagruel then sends the letter along with the curious items to his father by giving them over to Malicorne. As Pantagruel and his companions set out away from the island of Medamothy, they meet a ship with passengers returning from Lantern Land. As they mingle with these other passengers, a sheep merchant by the name of Dingdong notices that Panurge does not wear a codpiece, and that he has metal spectacles attached to his hat. Dingdong whispers to those near him about how Panurge has a cuckold's medal on his head, which of course starts a rather heated argument between Dingdong and Panurge. The two are forced to stop the fight, though, in order to maintain morale of the ship. As an attempt to smooth things over with the sheep merchant, Panurge offers to purchase one of Dingdong's sheep. Dingdong babbles on about the quality of his sheep, how they will be sold to royal houses, how their wool will be made into luxurious fabrics, and so on. As he babbles on, Panurge repeatedly asks how much he wants for one of the sheep. Finally, one of the other sheep merchants insists that Dingdong stop giving Panurge a difficult time and simply sell him a sheep. Dingdong agrees, and then he makes the transaction. After finally getting Dingdong to sell one of his sheep, Panurge picks up his new sheep, and throws it over the edge of the ship and into the water. Hearing their fellow sheep in the water, the rest of the sheep follow the sound and they all run over the edge of the ship and into the ocean where they will no doubt drown. Dingdong and his fellow sheep merchants try to stop the sheep, but they have no luck in the matter, and instead they get pulled over the edge by the sheep, where they too fall into the ocean and drown. Panurge asks Friar John for his opinion on the matter of what just occurred, and Friar John replies that Panurge should not have paid the man if this was his plan all along, because now the drowned man has his money. Panurge says that the payment was worth the fun, and then Panurge goes on to explain how that when he is wronged by someone, he will gladly take vengeance upon them, and the vengeance will be far greater than the initial offense. Although Panurge just murdered several people and killed a bunch of sheep, no one says anything negative about the whole situation. Friar John does say that Panurge has damned himself like an old devil, but it seems to be a passing comment, and not a serious accusation. The next island they sail to is the island of Ennasin. Upon talking with the locals, Pantagruel and his companions learn that everyone on this island is related to one another either closely or distantly. They have not allowed marriage with outsiders for some time, although the people of the island seem to have no problem with Pantagruel his companions visiting. As they walk around the island, they listen to how the men and women talk to one another. Pantagruel and his friends notice that the people of the island don't use such terms as mother, father, brother, sister etc. Instead, when they refer to one another, they use complementary terms, such as pear and cheese, or they use opposing terms to signify their dislike for one another. Depending on the relationship between the people, the terms can be highly sexualized. As they journey on, they sail to the island of Chely to meet with King St. Panigon. During this visit, there is much pomp and circumstance going on. Friar John manages to avoid the ceremonies and instead chooses to sneak away into the kitchens to fill his face whilst everyone else deals with the formalities of the visit. Upon Friar John's return to the ship, his companions question him about where he went. He explains that he did not want to deal with the formalities of royalty, and instead preferred to find food in the kitchens. They then discuss who belongs in the kitchen, and Friar John points out that the higher members of royalty tend to avoid the kitchens, for kitchens are places of servitude. Monks, on the other hand, always seem to be found in kitchens. The next island is noted as the land of Pettifogging. In this inhospitable land, the biggest vocation is that of the catchpoles, who are people hired to serve writs and other legal papers. By doing this job, however, the catchpoles risk being beaten and abused by the people receiving the served papers. Thus, as Pantagruel and his friends describe, the catchpoles are paid to be beaten, or else they will starve. Panurge relates the story of the Lord of Basche, a man who was trying to avoid such catchpoles, and so he paid and instructed his staff to put on a fake wedding whenever one of these catchpoles arrived. His reasoning for the fake wedding was because the custom of this region was to punch people at the close of the nuptials to remind everyone of the date of the event. Therefore, through this tableau, the Lord of Basche's servants could beat up the catchpole without being held accountable for the violent act. They perform this stunt on three different occasions, but during the third time, the catchpole got the upper hand, and he actually beats most of the servants fairly well. Unlike the catchpoles who came before, this third catchpole walks away on his own accord, beaten, but still able to move. After passing the island full of catchpoles, they arrive at the islands of Tohu and Bohu. Here, Pantagruel and his companions hoped to capture some fresh food, unfortunately there's not much left on the island, because of the giant Wide-nostrils. Under the guidance of his physicians, Wide-nostrils has been inhaling and swallowing up all manner of items on these islands as well as surrounding islands. He apparently enjoys swallowing windmills the most. Lately, however, Wide-nostrils had been suffering from strange indigestion pains. His physicians recommended that he heat butter on a stove and swallow it to lubricate his intestines. Upon following his doctor's orders, though, Wide-nostrils choked on the butter and died. His death had been fairly recent, as the people on the islands of Tohu and Bohu explain to Pantagruel and his associates. They move on and make their way to the next island, but as they do so, Friar John notices that his dear friend, Pantagruel, seems to be in a state of melancholy. Before Friar John can discover what troubles Pantagruel, a massive storm hits the ship. During the storm, Pantagruel ties himself to the mast. Friar John and the others strip down and start working the lines and the sails in an attempt to try to keep the ship afloat. Panurge, however, becomes overwhelmed with the fear that he will drown, and he starts ranting hysterically. Friar John tries to shame Panurge into proper action, but Panurge's fear is too powerful. After fighting the storm for some time, they all begin to fear that the storm will overtake them. Some of the companions start to consider their own mortality. Others, such as Friar John, challenge the gods of the sea and the tempest. Panurge tries to bargain with God, begging that God stop the storm. Panurge also offers anyone riches untold if they could get him safely to shore. Just as everyone seems to give up hope, Pantagruel spots land. The storm begins to clear away and everyone feels relieved once again. After the storm has passed and everyone is safe, Panurge acts as if he was never afraid. He even pretends that he provided more than his fair share of help during the storm, even though he did nothing but cry and sob the entire time. Friar John cannot stand by and listen to such lies, and he openly accuses Panurge of cowardice. Pantagruel explains that he would never tolerate his servants acting cowardly during such a conflict. Nevertheless, Pantagruel does not punish Panurge for the way he acted. All of the other supporting characters, though, comment on how Panurge acted cowardly, whereas they did their best to fight the storm. On the island of the Macreons, Pantagruel and his companions meet with the good Macrobius. Macrobius tells Pantagruel and his companions about how the ancient heroes died fighting the great monsters of the region, and how certain astronomical signs, such as comets, foretold of the events. Pantagruel then relates a historical story about how Thamous, the pilot of a large ship, was steering his ship toward port when a ghostly voice called for him three times. He answered after the third time, and the voice told him that he must publish the announcement of the death of Pan. Uncertain if the voice was real, Thamous decides he will only make the announcement if his ship is becalmed prior to getting into port. The ship gets close to land, and just then the wind dies completely and all the currents stop pushing his ship forward, so he cries out the announcement, and all the people on the nearby shores hear of Pan's death, and a great sadness fills the land. Pantagruel then makes the allegorical connection between Pan, the kind and mighty shepherd, and Jesus Christ. Both Pan and Christ are noted as being killed in the same fashion, and supposedly died around the same time. Pantagruel and his companions bid farewell to the good Macrobius and set sail for the next stop on their long journey. As they pass by the Sneaking Island, Xenomanes tells everyone about Shrovetide, the sovereign of the Sneaking Island. Xenomanes describes Shrovetide as a young ruler, but a ruler who is both paranoid and shrewd. Shrovetide's island is known for producing beautiful skewers that are sold throughout the world. Apparently, Shrovetide and his people are always at war with the Chitterlings, who reside on the Wild Island. Xenomanes continues to describe Shrovetide further with an enormous list of similes that depict every part of Shrovetide's body, but those similes are not very favorable. After passing the Sneaking Island, Pantagruel sees a monster in the ocean near the Wild Island. As they get closer, they realize that the monster is a whale, also known as a physeter. The narrator describes this particular whale to have three horns. Pantagruel decides that his fleet of eleven ships will go after this monster and kill it. The battle is difficult, but sure enough, they manage to slay the beast and bring the whale to the shore of the Wild Island. As Pantagruel's servants begin to cut up the whale, Pantagruel and his close companions begin to walk around the shore of the island. Immediately they notice that they have been spotted by the wild Chitterlings, and it appears that these natives are preparing to launch a full-scale attack on Pantagruel and his followers. Once again, Panurge acts cowardly as he tries to get himself away from the potential oncoming battle. He even volunteers to go and worn the soldiers on the ships. Friar John openly accuses Panurge of cowardice. Pantagruel, once again, ignores Panurge's cowardly actions, and instead Pantagruel focuses on making a plan. He does not wish to start a battle, but Pantagruel will not be caught off guard either. He decides to make sure the morale of his soldiers is high by requesting that two of his ships' commanders, Colonel Maul-chitterling and Colonel Cut-pudding the younger, join them on the beach for the potential battle, along with the soldiers whom each colonel commands over. Epistemon complements Pantagruel on his clever choice to choose these specific commanders, since their names describe what they wish to accomplish, should they enter into battle with the Chitterlings, . Both the commanders arrive with their soldiers, and Pantagruel explains that they must prepare for battle. The Chitterlings are described in several different ways. Since many of the Chitterlings are female, they are described as snake-like temptresses and tempters. Of course, this is a metaphorical description. Physically, they look like anthropomorphic sausages. Thus, since they look like food, Friar John convinces all the cooks to join him in the battle. As Friar John enlists the cooks, he goes over their names, and all of their names are linked closely to their cooking vocation. For example: "Sour-sauce. Crisp-pig. Carbonado. Sweet-meat," etc. Friar John gets all of the cooks ready to go inside of a great machine known as the Sow. Similar to the Trojan horse, soldiers can get inside of the Sow. Much like a modern-day tank, the soldiers inside of the Sow can shoot out bolts and other ranged weaponry. Friar John plans to have all the cooks inside of the Sow to go to war against the Chitterlings. The Chitterlings build their lines of defense, and then start the battle. Pantagruel and his companions fight the Chitterlings and cut them to pieces, forcing them to retreat. As the Chitterlings begin to retreat, a gigantic, flying, winged-pig with crimson feathers appears. If flies between the armies calling out the word, "Carnival," again and again. As the giant pig flies overhead, mustard falls out of it, and the mustard lands in heaps on the ground. After a short while, the giant pig flies away. With the battle over, Pantagruel and his companions seek out the leader of the Chitterlings, Queen Niphleseth. They converse with the Queen and discover that the Chitterlings started the battle due to false intelligence reports. The Chitterlings were under the impression that Pantagruel and his companions were allies of Shrovetide. The Queen makes all formal apologies and offers to send tribute to Pantagruel's country, along with 78,000 Chitterlings to serve for a period of six months every year. The following day, she sends the first lot of Chitterlings along with her daughter, young Niphleseth, to Pantagruel's homeland. After she does so, Pantagruel explains that it will not be necessary to send so many Chitterlings every year, nor will they be required to pay tribute on a regular basis. He also forgives all actions taken against him and his soldiers. Pantagruel then asks the Queen about the giant pig that flew in the sky after the battle. The Queen explains that Carnival, their patron God, who looks like a giant hog himself, created the flying pig as a way to protect his people, which is why the flying pig cries out Carnival's name. Pantagruel then inquires why mustard falls out of the flying pig. The Queen then states that, for Chitterlings, mustard acts as a magical balm that cures the sick and raises the dead. Unfortunately, the cure of mustard only works on Chitterlings. Sailing away from Queen Niphleseth and the Wild Island, Pantagruel and his companions arrive at the island of Ruach. On this island, the people do not eat food, and instead they feast upon different types of wind. To produce their food, they have even made massive windmills. The wind eaters of Ruach relate to Pantagruel about the problems they have experienced with their diet, especially since the giant Wide-nostrils swallows up their windmills and destroys other parts of their island. Pantagruel announces that they need not worry about Wide-nostrils any longer, for the giant recently died after choking on hot butter. As Pantagruel and his compatriots sail on, they come to the island of Pope-Figland. By talking to the locals, they learn the history of the island's name. Many years ago, the people of the island were called Gaillardets. One day, three Gaillardets went to visit the neighboring island of Papimany during a religious celebration. The Gaillardets mocked the image of the Papimen's Pope by saying "a fig to it." The next day, the Papimen armies overtook the Gaillardets homelands and killed practically everyone, save the women and children. Of the people who were spared, the Papimen gave them a shameful challenge that was identical to what Emperor Frederick Barbarossa did to the people of Milan. The leader of the Papimen placed a fig within the anal crevice of a donkey so that part of the fig was sticking out. He then challenged the survivors that if any of them wanted to live that they would have to remove the fig and then put it back in place without using their hands. Most of the people took part in the shameful act and became slaves to the Papimen people. The Gaillardets' island was then renamed Pope-Figland, as a reminder of their actions against the Papimen. While learning about the island's history, Pantagruel and his friends see a fountain pool where a man is submerged all the way up to his nostrils. Standing around him are three priests, and they are reading a book to try and remove any devil from possessing the man. One of the people nearby explains to Pantagruel and his friends why the man is submerged in the fountain. A few seasons previously, the man, who happens to be a farmer and a plowman, was in his field throwing corn seeds out in the dirt. The farmer had not had much luck farming this piece of land, but he was desperate to make the corn grow. Just then, a devil appears and makes a deal that he will protect the land so that the corn grows, provided that upon the harvest day the devil can keep everything under the dirt while the farmer keeps everything above the dirt. The farmer agrees, and the devil protects the land. Come harvest, the farmer and his workers arrive just as the devil and his workers arrive. The farmer and his crew work together and harvest everything above land, which is all the healthy stocks of corn, whereas the devil and his group get nothing save the dirt chaff. Both groups go to market, but the devil is unable to tempt anyone into buying his product. The devil thought he was being clever, because he thought he would gain all the corn that the farmer had thrown under the dirt. Clearly, this devil did not understand how plants grow. The devil then offers the farmer a second deal similar to the first, but this time the devil explains that everything above ground will belong to him come harvest time, and that everything below ground will belong to the farmer. The devil then asks the farmer what he plans to grow, to which the farmer cleverly responds that he will grow radishes. Again, harvest time happens, and the farmer gets all of the delicious underground radishes, while the devil gets all the worthless leaves. Once again, the devil cannot tempt anyone to buy his wares. Upset at how he has lost out on the first two deals, the devil offers a third and final deal to the farmer. He claims that whoever wins the third challenge will also win complete ownership of the field. The farmer agrees, and so the devil explains that the third challenge will be a clawing match. The farmer goes home in a panic, since he is uncertain of how he will win the day. His wife sees that he is upset and asks him what is going on. He explains everything and believes he is doomed. She assures him that she has a plan to beat the devil. She does not share her plan with her husband, though, so the farmer goes to the priests, confesses everything that has happened, and begs for help. To save his soul, the priests have submerged him in a pool of water and are saying prayers to ward off devil possession. The day when the clawing match was to take place happens to coincide with the day that Pantagruel and his friends have arrived. Just as they finish hearing the story about why the farmer is now submerged in water, they receive word from members of the town that the farmer's wife has beaten the devil. The way she did so was quite clever. She waited at the house for the devil to arrive, and placed herself in a heap on the ground, making sure to cry like a child. When the devil arrived, she told him that her husband had been practicing his clawing on her, and that he had clawed her up so bad that she will surely die. She then said that her husband was out sharpening his claws for the battle. At first the devil does not believe her, but then the woman holds up her skirts so that the devil can see her vaginal region, which to this unknowledgeable devil looks as if someone has ripped her open. Fearful that the farmer will rip him open, the devil runs away in defeat. Pantagruel and his companions leave the island of Pope-Figland and make way to the neighboring island of Papimany. On this island, Pantagruel and his compatriots discover that people are devout Christian zealots who praise all things related to the Pope, since they see the Pope as the living God on earth. They ask Pantagruel and his companions if they have ever been in the presence of the Pope. As a member royalty, Pantagruel has had the privilege of meeting the Pope, as have many of his companions, so the people of Papimany treats Pantagruel and his friends with the utmost respect. They are then welcomed to the island by Homenas, Bishop of Papimany. From the Bishop, they learn of the Papimen's extreme devotion and how they keep holy relics and holy books treasured under lock and key. To view such items requires people to fast for three days and give confession, as a show of worthiness. Panurge explains that they have been fasting all throughout their voyage, and are thus prepared. The bishop believes Panurge, and thus he shows Pantagruel and his companions all the holy relics, including images of the Pope as well as the holy books, known as decretals, which provide all the infinite knowledge that anyone would ever need. After viewing such holy items, and since the bishop believes that Pantagruel and his companions have been fasting for days, he offers them a great feast in honor of their visit and religious devotion. While feasting, everyone discusses stories about how people who are disrespectful to holy relics and holy books are severely punished, while those who respect such artifacts are eternally blessed. In exchange for blessing the island with their presence, Homenas gives Pantagruel pears that only grow on the island. Homenas claims they are the best pears in the world. Pantagruel explains that he will take a cutting home, if he is allowed, and grow these pears and call them good-Christian pears. Upon leaving the island of Papimany, Pantagruel's fleet of ships sails toward the frozen sea. While there, Pantagruel starts to hear people talking, although he cannot see anyone. Everyone else quiets down to listen closely, but they don't hear anything at first. After listening for a while, Pantagruel's companion start to hear something, although they cannot make out what they hear. They then learn that a battle between the Arimaspians and the Nephelibates had taken place in this region of the frozen sea, so Pantagruel and his friends surmise that perhaps the words they are hearing are from those groups of people. Somehow, Pantagruel reaches out and finds the frozen words, grabs them up, and brings them onto the ship's deck. Everyone starts warming up the frozen words and hears all manner of phrases, although the words are gibberish. By the tones of the words, they can determine that some of the words are beautiful, while others are said in hatred. Some words are reminiscent of the sounds of fighting, and other words are the sounds of screaming. Although some of the people on the ship, including Panurge and the unnamed narrator, wish to keep the words, Pantagruel advises against it, and so all the words are set free. Pantagruel and his companion sail away from the frozen sea and arrive at a new island that is supposed to be where the dwelling of Gaster resides. Gaster is known as the first Master of Arts in the world. Pantagruel goes to shore to meet Gaster. It is unclear whether Gaster is a giant, a demigod, or something else, for he has no doubt lived a long time and he has the brilliance and ability to create things far beyond the capabilities of regular people. While on the island, Pantagruel discovers that there are two groups of natives living there, including the Engastrimythes and the Gastrolaters. The first is a group of cheats and charlatans, the second is a group of thugs who walk around the island in gangs and dress up in strange elaborate costumes. The Gastrolaters have made Gaster into their god. They have also built crude statues to him, and they sacrifice exorbitant amounts of food and drink in his honor. Gaster does not want to be a God, and he often refuses many of the sacrifices. According to the stories, Gaster created all of the arts of agriculture, animal husbandry, cooking, civilization, architecture, war, and so many other arts. His purpose for creating these arts started out as a survival technique. He needed food, so he had to figure out how to grow corn; hence, he created agriculture. He then had to find ways to turn the corn into different types of food, store the food, protect the food, and protect the people who were protecting the food. Thus, all of the arts were created for improving the survival rate of people. Pantagruel then learns about how Gaster perfected some of his art forms. For instance, Gaster supposedly found ways to prevent people from being shot by bullets or cannonballs. To avoid gunshot or cannonballs, Gaster explains that one need only place iron-like stone, known as herculean, between yourself and your enemies. The narrator explains that the bullets and cannonballs will stop and hover near the stone. Supposedly, Gaster also invented a way to stop bullets and reverse their trajectory completely, however, the narrator does not provide an explanation of this technique, and instead discusses at length how all manner of herbs and other regular items can do extraordinary things, if applied in the right fashion. As Pantagruel and his comrades spend most of their time sailing, there is a lot of dead time where there is nothing to do. On one such occasion, each of Pantagruel's friends tried to busy themselves with different activities, but by doing so they all became lethargic and bored. Pantagruel takes a nap during this time, but when he rises, each of his friends ask him all manner of questions, including when should one eat, how to avoid boredom, and when should one sleep. Pantagruel provides religious maxims concerning when to sleep and when to eat, but he does not provide an answer for how to eradicate boredom. Pantagruel passes the time with his friends by chatting, talking about local lore, and asking each other questions. When they see the isle of Ganabim, Xenomanes explains that it is not a good place to visit, since it is filled with thieves. He does acknowledge that parts of the island would be suitable for stocking up on wood and water, though. On the isle, however, they can see a mountain that looks like Parnassus, where supposedly the Muses lived. Although Pantagruel has a strong feeling that he should not to visit the island, he at least wants to pay tribute to the Muses, and so he orders his ships to fire cannons as tribute. During such time, Panurge has gone under decks, once again overcome with fear. He and Friar John had gotten into an argument earlier, and Friar John chastised him for his cowardly inclinations, which made Panurge run away and sulk below decks. While Panurge was sulking, the cannon salute to the Muses went off. Panurge panics, for he believes that they have entered into a new battle. Half dressed, Panurge severely soils himself, and gets in a fight with one of the ship's cats, Rodilardus, who Panurge mistook for a small devil. Panurge runs to Friar John and begs him to save his soul. At this point, Panurge is rambling, stained in his own feces, and covered with cat scratches. Friar John points this all out to Pantagruel, and Pantagruel finally has to deal with situation of Panurge's cowardice. Pantagruel politely instructs Panurge to go clean up and calm himself. Briefly, Panurge acts as if he was never afraid in the first place, and he claims that the feces on his back is not his own, but that it belongs to the ship's cat. Here the fourth book ends rather abruptly.

Once again, the point of view of the story has changed to an unnamed narrator. In the second book, the narrator introduces himself as a servant to Pantagruel, and at some point eventually gives his name as Alcofribas. It is unclear if Alcofribas remains the narrator throughout books three, four, and five. If he were the servant of Pantagruel, then, presumably, he would focus his perspective on everything in relationship to his master. The third book, however, focuses more on Panurge. In this fourth installment, the focus shifts periodically. Most of the time, the point of view focuses on what Pantagruel does throughout the voyage, but then the point of view shifts to Panurge's exploits, and at times to the actions of Friar John. If Alcofribas is indeed the narrator of both the third and fourth books, then he stands in the role of the bystander who has the ability to watch the nobility at all times. Thus, from his perspective, as a virtually invisible servant, Alcofribas can watch every event that goes on, and then provide the readers with an exposition. In addition, depending on Alcofribas's level of skill as a writer and observer, he might be writing about the exploits of the voyage as a favor to Pantagruel. When Pantagruel writes a letter to his father, he explains that he will keep a journal of their adventures for his father to read at a later time. Although Pantagruel seems like the type of person who would want to write such a journal himself, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that he may have asked his servant, this narrator, to also keep an account of the activities during the voyage. Throughout this fourth installment of the series, Pantagruel and his companions come into contact with a full array of real and mythical creatures. From the very start of the journey, Pantagruel and his followers arrive at the island of Medamothy, where literally everything imaginable and unimaginable is for sale. Wes Williams argues that the creatures found for sale on the island, including the unicorns and the color-changing tarand, are "adynata: impossible objects, derived for the most part from Pliny's Natural History, books 8 and 10, where they figure such creatures as lie beyond credible representation" . Williams posits that Rabelais includes this episode so early in the fourth book as a way to explain to the reader that this journey will explore many unknown elements. In fact, as the journey progresses, the inhabitants of the islands become more and more peculiar. Granted, some islanders are not so different from people living in the known Western world, but other inhabitants, such as the Chitterlings of the Wild Island and the wind eaters of the island of Ruach, appear so extraordinary that one would certainly question their existence. But, as Williams suggests, starting the journey off by visiting the island of Medamothy, a place full of oddities and curiosities, sets the stage for literally anything to occur throughout the fourth book, including a giant flying pig that spurts mustard. Probably one of the most fascinating aspects of this story is the comedic imagery throughout the voyage. Early on, Panurge gets into an argument with a sheep merchant. Both Panurge and the merchant are reprimanded for their argument and are forced to make amends. Panurge offers to buy one of the merchant's sheep to prove he is truly remorseful. The sheep merchant babbles excessively about the value of his sheep. Although he is but a lowly merchant, he has the opportunity to waste Panurge's time, and he makes full use of that opportunity. Finally, though, he does sell Panurge one of the sheep. Panurge takes his purchased sheep and promptly throws it overboard, causing all the other sheep to follow it into the ocean, and all the sheep merchants are pulled into the ocean by their flock, thus drowning all the sheep and the sheep merchants in one fell swoop. Although this is a grotesque and gruesome image, the dark comedy shows through nonetheless. Eyewitnesses describe other comedic images in the story, in a more indirect manner. For instance, the giant, Wide-nostrils, supposedly dies by choking on melted butter. Another example would be the farmer's wife who manages to trick an unknowledgeable devil into believing that the slit of her vaginal opening was caused by the powerful claws of her husband, whom the devil was going to battle in a clawing match. Of all the comedic imagery, the scenes during the battle with the Chitterlings on Wild Island demonstrate the most vivid examples of personification and contextual foreshadowing. The inhabitants of this island, the Chitterlings, are literally described as walking sausages. These food items made from pork have been personified into male and female warriors, but since they are still walking sausages, they can easily be ripped in half and cut to pieces. Fortunately, thanks to the comedy Rabelais infuses into this story, the Chitterlings need not die from being cut in half. The savior is mustard sauce, for everyone knows that even the worst sausage can be improved with a little bit of mustard. As if the culinary humor was not blatant enough, Rabelais adds the image of a gigantic flying pig with crimson red plumage. While this creature that defies all reason flies over the battlefield, it spurts out mustard to save the fallen soldiers. Although the events on this island rank under the category of bizarre, the island's very name provided contextual foreshadowing to warn outsiders that this is a wild space. The term "wild" has many interpretations. Some people may identify wild to mean disorderly. The fact that these personified sausages defy death through the aid of mustard certainly suggests that the normal laws of order and biology no longer apply. As the opening framework of the story indicates that the characters will meet different people and face difficult challenges, the framework of the voyage itself also signifies that the characters will be tested and, as a result of those tests, some characters will change dramatically. Compared to who he was in the second book, Panurge is almost a different character by the end of the fourth book. Of the challenges he faces during this portion of the story, the first challenge is that of the storm. His failure to find his courage during the storm marks the downfall of his character throughout the rest of the story. When the storm hits, Pantagruel ties himself to the mast while Friar John and Epistemon help the crew with the rigging and the sails. Friar John calls out to Panurge, begging that he help them, but Panurge remains frozen in his fear. As he cries like a child, Panurge begs God or anyone listening to bring him safely to dry land. As soon as the storm stops, and after everyone is on dry land, Panurge feigns as if he was never afraid and he pretends that he helped the crew during the storm. Friar John refuses to listen to Panurge's lies, and blatantly calls him a coward. Having failed his first test of the voyage, Panurge continues to falter and spiral downwards. For instance, when it appears that Pantagruel and his companions will have to do battle with the Chitterlings on Wild Island, Panurge offers to go to warn the soldiers on the ships, but he only makes this offer so that he can run away from the battle. Likewise, at the end of the story, while pouting below decks, Panurge hears the sound of cannon fire, which makes him believe that they have once again entered into battle. In this final test of his courage, Panurge soils himself in his own feces and mistakes a cat for a small demon. Truly, Panurge, the once quick-witted, womanizing, master thief and scam artist from the second book has hit rock bottom as he continues to sail on this voyage in his search for answers about cuckoldry after marriage.