Gargantua and Pantagruel, Book IV.
Francois Rabelais

Part 1 out of 4

Produced by Sue Asscher and David Widger




Book IV.

Translated into English by

Sir Thomas Urquhart of Cromarty


Peter Antony Motteux

The text of the first Two Books of Rabelais has been reprinted from the
first edition (1653) of Urquhart's translation. Footnotes initialled 'M.'
are drawn from the Maitland Club edition (1838); other footnotes are by the
translator. Urquhart's translation of Book III. appeared posthumously in
1693, with a new edition of Books I. and II., under Motteux's editorship.
Motteux's rendering of Books IV. and V. followed in 1708. Occasionally (as
the footnotes indicate) passages omitted by Motteux have been restored from
the 1738 copy edited by Ozell.


The Translator's Preface.

Reader,--I don't know what kind of a preface I must write to find thee
courteous, an epithet too often bestowed without a cause. The author of
this work has been as sparing of what we call good nature, as most readers
are nowadays. So I am afraid his translator and commentator is not to
expect much more than has been showed them. What's worse, there are but
two sorts of taking prefaces, as there are but two kinds of prologues to
plays; for Mr. Bays was doubtless in the right when he said that if thunder
and lightning could not fright an audience into complaisance, the sight of
the poet with a rope about his neck might work them into pity. Some,
indeed, have bullied many of you into applause, and railed at your faults
that you might think them without any; and others, more safely, have spoken
kindly of you, that you might think, or at least speak, as favourably of
them, and be flattered into patience. Now, I fancy, there's nothing less
difficult to attempt than the first method; for, in this blessed age, 'tis
as easy to find a bully without courage, as a whore without beauty, or a
writer without wit; though those qualifications are so necessary in their
respective professions. The mischief is, that you seldom allow any to rail
besides yourselves, and cannot bear a pride which shocks your own. As for
wheedling you into a liking of a work, I must confess it seems the safest
way; but though flattery pleases you well when it is particular, you hate
it, as little concerning you, when it is general. Then we knights of the
quill are a stiff-necked generation, who as seldom care to seem to doubt
the worth of our writings, and their being liked, as we love to flatter
more than one at a time; and had rather draw our pens, and stand up for the
beauty of our works (as some arrant fools use to do for that of their
mistresses) to the last drop of our ink. And truly this submission, which
sometimes wheedles you into pity, as seldom decoys you into love, as the
awkward cringing of an antiquated fop, as moneyless as he is ugly, affects
an experienced fair one. Now we as little value your pity as a lover his
mistress's, well satisfied that it is only a less uncivil way of dismissing
us. But what if neither of these two ways will work upon you, of which
doleful truth some of our playwrights stand so many living monuments? Why,
then, truly I think on no other way at present but blending the two into
one; and, from this marriage of huffing and cringing, there will result a
new kind of careless medley, which, perhaps, will work upon both sorts of
readers, those who are to be hectored, and those whom we must creep to. At
least, it is like to please by its novelty; and it will not be the first
monster that has pleased you when regular nature could not do it.

If uncommon worth, lively wit, and deep learning, wove into wholesome
satire, a bold, good, and vast design admirably pursued, truth set out in
its true light, and a method how to arrive to its oracle, can recommend a
work, I am sure this has enough to please any reasonable man. The three
books published some time since, which are in a manner an entire work, were
kindly received; yet, in the French, they come far short of these two,
which are also entire pieces; for the satire is all general here, much more
obvious, and consequently more entertaining. Even my long explanatory
preface was not thought improper. Though I was so far from being allowed
time to make it methodical, that at first only a few pages were intended;
yet as fast as they were printed I wrote on, till it proved at last like
one of those towns built little at first, then enlarged, where you see
promiscuously an odd variety of all sorts of irregular buildings. I hope
the remarks I give now will not please less; for, as I have translated the
work which they explain, I had more time to make them, though as little to
write them. It would be needless to give here a large account of my
performance; for, after all, you readers care no more for this or that
apology, or pretence of Mr. Translator, if the version does not please you,
than we do for a blundering cook's excuse after he has spoiled a good dish
in the dressing. Nor can the first pretend to much praise, besides that of
giving his author's sense in its full extent, and copying his style, if it
is to be copied; since he has no share in the invention or disposition of
what he translates. Yet there was no small difficulty in doing Rabelais
justice in that double respect; the obsolete words and turns of phrase, and
dark subjects, often as darkly treated, make the sense hard to be
understood even by a Frenchman, and it cannot be easy to give it the free
easy air of an original; for even what seems most common talk in one
language, is what is often the most difficult to be made so in another; and
Horace's thoughts of comedy may be well applied to this:

Creditur, ex medio quia res arcessit, habere
Sudoris minimum; sed habet commoedia tantum
Plus oneris, quanto veniae minus.

Far be it from me, for all this, to value myself upon hitting the words of
cant in which my drolling author is so luxuriant; for though such words
have stood me in good stead, I scarce can forbear thinking myself unhappy
in having insensibly hoarded up so much gibberish and Billingsgate trash in
my memory; nor could I forbear asking of myself, as an Italian cardinal
said on another account, D'onde hai tu pigliato tante coglionerie? Where
the devil didst thou rake up all these fripperies?

It was not less difficult to come up to the author's sublime expressions.
Nor would I have attempted such a task, but that I was ambitious of giving
a view of the most valuable work of the greatest genius of his age, to the
Mecaenas and best genius of this. For I am not overfond of so ungrateful a
task as translating, and would rejoice to see less versions and more
originals; so the latter were not as bad as many of the first are, through
want of encouragement. Some indeed have deservedly gained esteem by
translating; yet not many condescend to translate, but such as cannot
invent; though to do the first well requires often as much genius as to do
the latter.

I wish, reader, thou mayest be as willing to do my author justice, as I
have strove to do him right. Yet, if thou art a brother of the quill, it
is ten to one thou art too much in love with thy own dear productions to
admire those of one of thy trade. However, I know three or four who have
not such a mighty opinion of themselves; but I'll not name them, lest I
should be obliged to place myself among them. If thou art one of those
who, though they never write, criticise everyone that does; avaunt!--Thou
art a professed enemy of mankind and of thyself, who wilt never be pleased
nor let anybody be so, and knowest no better way to fame than by striving
to lessen that of others; though wouldst thou write thou mightst be soon
known, even by the butterwomen, and fly through the world in bandboxes. If
thou art of the dissembling tribe, it is thy office to rail at those books
which thou huggest in a corner. If thou art one of those eavesdroppers,
who would have their moroseness be counted gravity, thou wilt condemn a
mirth which thou art past relishing; and I know no other way to quit the
score than by writing (as like enough I may) something as dull, or duller
than thyself, if possible. If thou art one of those critics in dressing,
those extempores of fortune, who, having lost a relation and got an estate,
in an instant set up for wit and every extravagance, thou'lt either praise
or discommend this book, according to the dictates of some less foolish
than thyself, perhaps of one of those who, being lodged at the sign of the
box and dice, will know better things than to recommend to thee a work
which bids thee beware of his tricks. This book might teach thee to leave
thy follies; but some will say it does not signify much to some fools
whether they are so or not; for when was there a fool that thought himself
one? If thou art one of those who would put themselves upon us for learned
men in Greek and Hebrew, yet are mere blockheads in English, and patch
together old pieces of the ancients to get themselves clothes out of them,
thou art too severely mauled in this work to like it. Who then will? some
will cry. Nay, besides these, many societies that make a great figure in
the world are reflected on in this book; which caused Rabelais to study to
be dark, and even bedaub it with many loose expressions, that he might not
be thought to have any other design than to droll; in a manner bewraying
his book that his enemies might not bite it. Truly, though now the riddle
is expounded, I would advise those who read it not to reflect on the
author, lest he be thought to have been beforehand with them, and they be
ranked among those who have nothing to show for their honesty but their
money, nothing for their religion but their dissembling, or a fat benefice,
nothing for their wit but their dressing, for their nobility but their
title, for their gentility but their sword, for their courage but their
huffing, for their preferment but their assurance, for their learning but
their degrees, or for their gravity but their wrinkles or dulness. They
had better laugh at one another here, as it is the custom of the world.
Laughing is of all professions; the miser may hoard, the spendthrift
squander, the politician plot, the lawyer wrangle, and the gamester cheat;
still their main design is to be able to laugh at one another; and here
they may do it at a cheap and easy rate. After all, should this work fail
to please the greater number of readers, I am sure it cannot miss being
liked by those who are for witty mirth and a chirping bottle; though not by
those solid sots who seem to have drudged all their youth long only that
they might enjoy the sweet blessing of getting drunk every night in their
old age. But those men of sense and honour who love truth and the good of
mankind in general above all other things will undoubtedly countenance this
work. I will not gravely insist upon its usefulness, having said enough of
it in the preface (Motteux' Preface to vol. I of Rabelais, ed. 1694.) to
the first part. I will only add, that as Homer in his Odyssey makes his
hero wander ten years through most parts of the then known world, so
Rabelais, in a three months' voyage, makes Pantagruel take a view of almost
all sorts of people and professions; with this difference, however, between
the ancient mythologist and the modern, that while the Odyssey has been
compared to a setting sun in respect to the Iliads, Rabelais' last work,
which is this Voyage to the Oracle of the Bottle (by which he means truth)
is justly thought his masterpiece, being wrote with more spirit, salt, and
flame, than the first part of his works. At near seventy years of age, his
genius, far from being drained, seemed to have acquired fresh vigour and
new graces the more it exerted itself; like those rivers which grow more
deep, large, majestic, and useful by their course. Those who accuse the
French of being as sparing of their wit as lavish of their words will find
an Englishman in our author. I must confess indeed that my countrymen and
other southern nations temper the one with the other in a manner as they do
their wine with water, often just dashing the latter with a little of the
first. Now here men love to drink their wine pure; nay, sometimes it will
not satisfy unless in its very quintessence, as in brandies; though an
excess of this betrays want of sobriety, as much as an excess of wit
betrays a want of judgment. But I must conclude, lest I be justly taxed
with wanting both. I will only add, that as every language has its
peculiar graces, seldom or never to be acquired by a foreigner, I cannot
think I have given my author those of the English in every place; but as
none compelled me to write, I fear to ask a pardon which yet the generous
temper of this nation makes me hope to obtain. Albinus, a Roman, who had
written in Greek, desired in his preface to be forgiven his faults of
language; but Cato asked him in derision whether any had forced him to
write in a tongue of which he was not an absolute master. Lucullus wrote a
history in the same tongue, and said he had scattered some false Greek in
it to let the world know it was the work of a Roman. I will not say as
much of my writings, in which I study to be as little incorrect as the
hurry of business and shortness of time will permit; but I may better say,
as Tully did of the history of his consulship, which he also had written in
Greek, that what errors may be found in the diction are crept in against my
intent. Indeed, Livius Andronicus and Terence, the one a Greek, the other
a Carthaginian, wrote successfully in Latin, and the latter is perhaps the
most perfect model of the purity and urbanity of that tongue; but I ought
not to hope for the success of those great men. Yet am I ambitious of
being as subservient to the useful diversion of the ingenious of this
nation as I can, which I have endeavoured in this work, with hopes to
attempt some greater tasks if ever I am happy enough to have more leisure.
In the meantime it will not displease me, if it is known that this is given
by one who, though born and educated in France, has the love and veneration
of a loyal subject for this nation, one who, by a fatality, which with many
more made him say,

Nos patriam fugimus et dulcia linquimus arva,

is obliged to make the language of these happy regions as natural to him as
he can, and thankfully say with the rest, under this Protestant government,

Deus nobis haec otia fecit.

The Author's Epistle Dedicatory.

To the most Illustrious Prince and most Reverend Lord Odet, Cardinal de

You know, most illustrious prince, how often I have been, and am daily
pressed and required by great numbers of eminent persons, to proceed in the
Pantagruelian fables; they tell me that many languishing, sick, and
disconsolate persons, perusing them, have deceived their grief, passed
their time merrily, and been inspired with new joy and comfort. I commonly
answer that I aimed not at glory and applause when I diverted myself with
writing, but only designed to give by my pen, to the absent who labour
under affliction, that little help which at all times I willingly strive to
give to the present that stand in need of my art and service. Sometimes I
at large relate to them how Hippocrates in several places, and particularly
in lib. 6. Epidem., describing the institution of the physician his
disciple, and also Soranus of Ephesus, Oribasius, Galen, Hali Abbas, and
other authors, have descended to particulars, in the prescription of his
motions, deportment, looks, countenance, gracefulness, civility,
cleanliness of face, clothes, beard, hair, hands, mouth, even his very
nails; as if he were to play the part of a lover in some comedy, or enter
the lists to fight some enemy. And indeed the practice of physic is
properly enough compared by Hippocrates to a fight, and also to a farce
acted between three persons, the patient, the physician, and the disease.
Which passage has sometimes put me in mind of Julia's saying to Augustus
her father. One day she came before him in a very gorgeous, loose,
lascivious dress, which very much displeased him, though he did not much
discover his discontent. The next day she put on another, and in a modest
garb, such as the chaste Roman ladies wore, came into his presence. The
kind father could not then forbear expressing the pleasure which he took to
see her so much altered, and said to her: Oh! how much more this garb
becomes and is commendable in the daughter of Augustus. But she, having
her excuse ready, answered: This day, sir, I dressed myself to please my
father's eye; yesterday, to gratify that of my husband. Thus disguised in
looks and garb, nay even, as formerly was the fashion, with a rich and
pleasant gown with four sleeves, which was called philonium according to
Petrus Alexandrinus in 6. Epidem., a physician might answer to such as
might find the metamorphosis indecent: Thus have I accoutred myself, not
that I am proud of appearing in such a dress, but for the sake of my
patient, whom alone I wholly design to please, and no wise offend or
dissatisfy. There is also a passage in our father Hippocrates, in the book
I have named, which causes some to sweat, dispute, and labour; not indeed
to know whether the physician's frowning, discontented, and morose Catonian
look render the patient sad, and his joyful, serene, and pleasing
countenance rejoice him; for experience teaches us that this is most
certain; but whether such sensations of grief or pleasure are produced by
the apprehension of the patient observing his motions and qualities in his
physician, and drawing from thence conjectures of the end and catastrophe
of his disease; as, by his pleasing look, joyful and desirable events, and
by his sorrowful and unpleasing air, sad and dismal consequences; or
whether those sensations be produced by a transfusion of the serene or
gloomy, aerial or terrestrial, joyful or melancholic spirits of the
physician into the person of the patient, as is the opinion of Plato,
Averroes, and others.

Above all things, the forecited authors have given particular directions to
physicians about the words, discourse, and converse which they ought to
have with their patients; everyone aiming at one point, that is, to rejoice
them without offending God, and in no wise whatsoever to vex or displease
them. Which causes Herophilus much to blame the physician Callianax, who,
being asked by a patient of his, Shall I die? impudently made him this

Patroclus died, whom all allow
By much a better man than you.

Another, who had a mind to know the state of his distemper, asking him,
after our merry Patelin's way: Well, doctor, does not my water tell you I
shall die? He foolishly answered, No; if Latona, the mother of those
lovely twins, Phoebus and Diana, begot thee. Galen, lib. 4, Comment. 6.
Epidem., blames much also Quintus his tutor, who, a certain nobleman of
Rome, his patient, saying to him, You have been at breakfast, my master,
your breath smells of wine; answered arrogantly, Yours smells of fever;
which is the better smell of the two, wine or a putrid fever? But the
calumny of certain cannibals, misanthropes, perpetual eavesdroppers, has
been so foul and excessive against me, that it had conquered my patience,
and I had resolved not to write one jot more. For the least of their
detractions were that my books are all stuffed with various heresies, of
which, nevertheless, they could not show one single instance; much, indeed,
of comical and facetious fooleries, neither offending God nor the king (and
truly I own they are the only subject and only theme of these books), but
of heresy not a word, unless they interpreted wrong, and against all use of
reason and common language, what I had rather suffer a thousand deaths, if
it were possible, than have thought; as who should make bread to be stone,
a fish to be a serpent, and an egg to be a scorpion. This, my lord,
emboldened me once to tell you, as I was complaining of it in your
presence, that if I did not esteem myself a better Christian than they show
themselves towards me, and if my life, writings, words, nay thoughts,
betrayed to me one single spark of heresy, or I should in a detestable
manner fall into the snares of the spirit of detraction, Diabolos, who, by
their means, raises such crimes against me; I would then, like the phoenix,
gather dry wood, kindle a fire, and burn myself in the midst of it. You
were then pleased to say to me that King Francis, of eternal memory, had
been made sensible of those false accusations; and that having caused my
books (mine, I say, because several, false and infamous, have been wickedly
laid to me) to be carefully and distinctly read to him by the most learned
and faithful anagnost in this kingdom, he had not found any passage
suspicious; and that he abhorred a certain envious, ignorant, hypocritical
informer, who grounded a mortal heresy on an n put instead of an m by the
carelessness of the printers.

As much was done by his son, our most gracious, virtuous, and blessed
sovereign, Henry, whom Heaven long preserve! so that he granted you his
royal privilege and particular protection for me against my slandering

You kindly condescended since to confirm me these happy news at Paris; and
also lately, when you visited my Lord Cardinal du Bellay, who, for the
benefit of his health, after a lingering distemper, was retired to St.
Maur, that place (or rather paradise) of salubrity, serenity, conveniency,
and all desirable country pleasures.

Thus, my lord, under so glorious a patronage, I am emboldened once more to
draw my pen, undaunted now and secure; with hopes that you will still prove
to me, against the power of detraction, a second Gallic Hercules in
learning, prudence, and eloquence; an Alexicacos in virtue, power, and
authority; you, of whom I may truly say what the wise monarch Solomon saith
of Moses, that great prophet and captain of Israel, Ecclesiast. 45: A man
fearing and loving God, who found favour in the sight of all flesh,
well-beloved both of God and man; whose memorial is blessed. God made him
like to the glorious saints, and magnified him so, that his enemies stood in
fear of him; and for him made wonders; made him glorious in the sight of
kings, gave him a commandment for his people, and by him showed his light;
he sanctified him in his faithfulness and meekness, and chose him out of all
men. By him he made us to hear his voice, and caused by him the law of life
and knowledge to be given.

Accordingly, if I shall be so happy as to hear anyone commend those merry
composures, they shall be adjured by me to be obliged and pay their thanks
to you alone, as also to offer their prayers to Heaven for the continuance
and increase of your greatness; and to attribute no more to me than my
humble and ready obedience to your commands; for by your most honourable
encouragement you at once have inspired me with spirit and with invention;
and without you my heart had failed me, and the fountain-head of my animal
spirits had been dry. May the Lord keep you in his blessed mercy!

My Lord,

Your most humble, and most devoted Servant,

Francis Rabelais, Physician.

Paris, this 28th of January, MDLII.

The Author's Prologue.

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

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

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.


Chapter 4.I.

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

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.

Chapter 4.II.

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.

Chapter 4.III.

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.

Chapter 4.IV.

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

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.

Chapter 4.V.

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

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.

Chapter 4.VI.

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.

Chapter 4.VII.

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.

Chapter 4.VIII.

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

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.').

Chapter 4.IX.

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.

Chapter 4.X.

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

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.

Chapter 4.XI.

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.

Chapter 4.XII.

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.

Chapter 4.XIII.

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.

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,


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