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Author: Rabelais, François, ca. 1490-1553?

First known English translation

Title: The works of F. Rabelais, M.D., or, The lives, heroic deeds and sayings of Gargantua and
Pantagruel with a large account of the life and works of the author, particularly an explanation of
the most difficult passages in them never before publish'd in any language / done out of French
by Sir Tho. Urchard, Kt., and others.
Date: 1694
Bibliographic name / number: Wing / R104
No. of pages: 3 v.
Copy from: University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign Campus)
Reel position: Wing / 1429:06

The works of F. Rabelais, M.D., or, The lives, heroic deeds and sayings of Gargantua and
Pantagruel
A Text Creation Partnership digital edition TCP Phase I Added to EEBO prior to August 2010

De Francisco Rabelaeso.

Qui sic nugatur, tractantem vt Seria vincat

Seria cum faciet, dic rogo quantus erit.
Theodorus Beza 1552

THE WORKS OF F. RABELAIS, M.D. OR, The Lives, heroic Deeds and Sayings of
GARGANTUA AND PANTAGRUEL.

Done out of French by Sir Tho. Urchard, Kt. and others.

With a large Account of the Life and Works, of the Author, particularly an Explanation of the
most difficult Passages in them. Never before Publish'd in any Language.

London, Printed for Richard Baldwin, near the Oxford Arms in Warwick-Lane, 1694.

[...]

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Edward Russel, Esq Admiral of Their Majesties Navy,
One of the Lords of Their most honourable Privy Council &c.
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SIR,

I Make bold to Dedicate to you a Book, whose Worth has fix'd on its learned Author the
Cha|racter of the greatest Genius that France ever produc'd: Superstition, Tyranny and all the
numerous Train of Vices and Extravagancies being ridicul'd in it with as much Wit as Judgment;
a Lover of Britain, envy|ing to France such a Treasure, has made it a Prize; and now it sets out
with English Colours, fearless of its Enemies, under your powerful Pa|tronage.

Pardon, Sir, the Necessity of this Address: It was not easie to find a Name worthy to be prefix'd
to such a Work, which disobliging the blame|able Inclinations of almost all Man|kind, had left
me but little Room for the Choice of a Patron. I knew none in whom I could be safer than in you,
who, by the consent even of Envy, are not only granted to be free from those Defects, which
render the generality of the World obnoxious to Satyr; but would have turn'd our satyrical Author
into a Panegy|rist; had he lived now, and, like us, seen every Vertue and heroic Accom|plishment
happily centred in your Person.

These Qualifications endearing you to Mankind made me eagerly embrace this Opportunity, to
express in a public Manner my share of the Joy which fills every honest Breast in this Nation;
pleas'd, to see you resume the mighty Task, which you have discharg'd so much to its Glory and
your own. Not to partake of the Sence of Gratitude, which they would all express, for what you
have so bravely perform'd and still under|take for its Prosperity, would be to resemble those who
do not think themselves oblig'd to the Sun, because he dispenses his Light and Heat to all; as, on
the other side, to pretend to impart to you a greater Lustre, would be like striving to add
Bright|ness to that glorious Planet, that on|ly withdraws a while to shine the more, and obscure
the Train of Stars that supplied its Absence.

I can hardly hope, that this Book will deserve your Attention at this Juncture, when the most
weighty Affairs in the World wholly employ your Thoughts: Yet, Sir, if your Care for the
Welfare of your Country will admit no breathing Intervals, at least, when on your watry Charge
you seek an Enemy, who has too deeply felt the Effects of your Va|lour, not to dread it as much
as we love and admire it; this ingenious Satyr may then not be unfit to lessen a while your
Impatience in those tedious Moments. Thus when the Heroes of Argos embark'd in search of a
Conquest, which the distance of the Prize only delay'd, they had their Orpheus to soften the
Tedious|ness and Toyls of the Expedition.

May your next be no less Success|ful than theirs and your last; and secure to these Kingdoms
Peace and Plenty, that golden Fleece, which we, as well as the Heroes, who are Proud to follow
while you lead, may now reasonably expect. Ad|vance, Sir, to new Triumphs that wait for you:
The Enemy who is to be Conquer'd, is but the same whom you have already Vanquish'd, and
seems to have had time to Re|cruit the mighty Losses, which by your Valour and Conduct he
su|stain'd, only that he might be the more Worthy of giving those Ver|tues an Opportunity to
exert them|selves in a more glorious Manner.

They are so Conspicuous in you, Sir, as well as that Zeal for your Country's Happiness, the
hereditary Attribute of your Noble Family, that it would be an impardonable Vanity in me to
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pretend to make them more known to this Age, by any thing of the Nature of this Address; and it
will be the proper Task of Hi|story to transmit them not only to the next, but to the latest
Posterity. I will not therefore, Sir, tire you with Praises far below those which you so highly
deserve and shun: And, since the Best and Ablest Patri|ots have, by public Acknowledgments of
your great Merits, as it were, made themselves your Panegyrists, what can be left for a Person of
my pri|vate Circumstances to do, but at a Distance to Admire you, and be Ambitious of no
greater Name than that of,

SIR, Your most Humble and most Devoted Servant. PETER MOTTEUX.

THE LIFE OF Dr. Francis Rabelais.

HAD Dr. Rabelais, like Cardan, Scaliger, Thuanus and other learn|ed Men, given us the History
of his Life; employed, as it was, wholly in Mirth, and penn'd by so uncommon a Hand, it must
needs have pleased not only more than the most diverting Works of others, but even more then
his own unparalell'd Chronicle·

But by a cruel Fatality, most of th[...]se whose Works perpetuate the Lives of others, neglect to
eternise their own by such a method; and, instead of painting themselves and their most
memorable Actions, only strive to be known by the Pictures of Strangers which they have drawn:
Some of them, perhaps, slatter themselves with the Ex|amples of a small number of happy Men
the Pictures of whose Lives and Persons have been ij consecrated to Posterity by Pencils equal to
those with which they had redeemed others from Ob|livion; but, as few prove kinder to us than
our selves, those who expect to be excepted out of that Rule after their Deaths may be assur'd,
That if by chance some of their able Survivers bestow one short minute to give, en passant, an
imperfect Idea of their Resemblance, Ten ill hands rudely attempting to do the same, while they
faintly hit one Lineament, will miscarry on the rest, and thus ignorantly or maliciously ridicule
what they pretend to represent.

'Tis true, the ancient Philosophers have had their Laertius and the Heros, their Contempo|raries,
their Plutarch: But now that History seems almost lost in disorderly Memoirs, its primi|tive
Chaos, great Warriors are as unlikely to find good Historians as famous Authors.

Thus Rabelais, that greater Lucian of France, has been even worse us'd than that of Greece; for
though we know the Old only by his Writings, yet few fabulous Stories wrong his Memory,
while that of Rabelais is so much abused by unkind Fame, that, to know him, it were perhaps
better only to seek that Modern Lucian, as we do the Old, in the Pictures which he has drawn of
others, than in those which his careless or malicious Painters have given us of him.

However, you have here the best Account I could get of him: Neither was it without much iij
difficulty, that, out of the Ruins of Time, in a Kingdom where 'tis not easie to find many Books
and Persons that can inform us of that Author, I could get together what follows; principally if
we consider how little is to be found in the French late Editions of his Works.
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FRANCIS RABELAIS was born about the Year 1483, at Chinon, a very an|cient little Town,
scituate near the Place where the River Vienne loses it self into the Loire, in the Province of
Touraine in France. His Father Thomas Rabelais was an Apothecary of that Town, and
possessed an Estate called la Douï|niere; near which Place, [Note: Particular de la vie & moeurs
de Rabelais, im|prim. devant ses Oeuvres. ] ha|ving first sent his Son Francis to be Educated by
the Monks of the Abbey of Sevillé, and finding that he did not im|prove, he removed him to the
Vniversity of An|gers, where he studied sometime at a Convent called la Baumette, but without
any considerable Success. There he became acquainted with Mes|sieurs Du Bellay, one of whom
was afterwards Cardinal: And 'tis said, that Rabelais having committed some Misdemeanor, was
there very se|verely used.

A Famous Author writes, [Note: Scaevol. Samar|thanus, lib. 1. Elog. Clar. Vir. ] That he was
bred up in a Con|vent of Franciscan Friars in Poictou, and was received iv into their Order.
Which Con|vent can be no other than that of Fontenay le Comte, [Note: Thresor Chro|nolog. de
St. Romuald. 3d. part. ] in the said Province, where he proved a great Proficient in Learning; in
so much, that of the Friars, some envied him, some, through Ignorance, thought him a Conjurer;
and in short, all hated and misused him because he studied Greek; the Beauties of which Tongue
they could not relish; its Novelty· making them esteem it not only Barbarous, but Antichristian.
This we partly observe by a Letter which Budaeus, [Note: Budaeus Graec. Epist. ] the most
learned Man of his Age in that Tongue, writ to a Friend of Rabelais, wherein he highly Praises
him, particularly for his Excellent Knowledge in that Tongue, and ex|claims· against the
Stupidity and Ingratitude of those Friars.

Such a Misfortune befel Erasmus; as also the Learned Rabanus Maurus Magnentius, Abbot of
Fulda and A[...]chbishop of Ments: For, having Composed some Excellent Poems in Verse,
[Note: Rabanus, Brower in Fuld. Hist. ] they only served to expose him to the Hatred of his
Monks, who accused him of applying himself too much to Spi|ritual Things, and too little to the
Encrease of the Temporal; to the Loss, as they thought, of the Monastery. So that, abou[...] the
Year 842, he was forced to retire near Lewis King of v Germany, his Protector; where his Monks,
who had soon found their Error and their Loss in the Absence of so esteemable an Abbot, came
to beg his Pardon, and prayed him to resume the Admi|nistration of the Abbey, which, however,
he reso|lutely declin'd.

Thus Rabelais hating the Ignorance and Base|ness of the Cordeliers was desirous enough to
leave them, being but too much prompted to it by several Persons of Eminent Quality, who were
extreamly delighted with his Learning and face|cious Conversation.

A Monk relates, That he was put in Pace, that is, [Note: P. de St. Ro|muald. Feuil|lent. ]
be|tween four Walls with Bread and Water, in the said Con|vent, for some unlucky Action; and
was redeemed out of it by the Learned An|drew Tiraqueau, then Lieutenant-General (that is,
Chief Iudge) of the Baylywick of Fontenay le Com[...]e; and by Tradition 'tis said in that Town,
That on a Day when the Country People used to resort to the Convent's Church, to address their
Prayers, and pay their Offerings to the Image of St. Francis, which stood in a Place somewhat
dark near the Porch; Rabelais, to Ri|dicule their Superstition, privately removed the Saint's
Image, and placed himself in its room, having first disguised himself. But at last, too much
pleased with the awkward Worship which was payed him, he could not forbear Laughing, vi and
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made some Motion; which being observed by his gaping, staring Worshippers, they cryed out,
Miracle! My good Lord St. Francis moves! Vpon which an Old crafty Knave of a Friar, who
knew Stone and the Virtue of St. Francis too well, to expect this should be true, drawing near,
scar'd our Sham-Saint out of his Hole: And having caused him to be seized, the rest of the
Fraternity, with their knotty Cords on his bare Back, soon made him know, he was not made of
Stone, and wish he had been as hard as the Image, or Senceless, as was the Saint; nay, turned
into the very Image of which he lately was the Representation.

At last, by the Intercession of Friends, [Note: The Bishop's See is now re|moved to Ro|chell. ] of
which Geoffroy d' Estissac Bishop of Maillezais is said to have been one; be ob|tained Pope
Clement VII's Permission to leave the beggar|ly Fellowship of St. Francis, for the Wealthy and
more easie Order of St. Bennet, and was entertained in that Bishop's Chapter, that is, the Abbey
of Maillezais. But his Mercurial Temper prevailing after he had lived some|time there, he also
left it, and laying down the regular Habit, to take that which is worn by secular Priests, he
rambled up and down a while, till at last he fixed at Montpellier, took all his Degrees as a
Physician in that Vniversity, and practis'd Physic with Reputation. And by his vii Epistle before
the Transla|tion of the Aphorisms of Hippocrates, [Note: Quum anno Supe|riore Monspessuli
Aphorismos Hippo|cratis, & deinceps Galeni artem Medi|cam frequenti audi|torio publicè
enarra|rem, Antistes claris|sime, annotaveram loca aliquot in qui|bus interpretes mihi non
admodum satisfacie|bant. Collatis enim eorum traductionibus cum exemplari graecanico quod,
praeter ea quae vulgò circumferuntur, habebam vetustis|simum, literisque Jonicis elegantissimè,
casti|gatissimèque exaratum, comperi illos quam plurima omisisse, quaedam exotica & notha
ad|jecisse, quaedam minus expressisse, pauca inver|tisse verius quam vertisse, &c. F.
Rabelaesus in Hippocr. Aphor. ] and some Works of Galen, which he Published and Dedica|ted
to the Bishop of Mail|lezais in 1532, he tells him that he publicly read Physic in that Vniversity
to a Numerous Auditory.

'Tis vulgarly said, that Rabelais having Pub|lished some Physical Tract, which did not sell, upon
the disappointed Book-seller's Complaint to him, told him, that since the World did not know
how to value a good Book, they would undoubtedly like a bad one, and that accordingly he
would write something that would make him large amends; upon which he Composed his
Gargan|tua and Pantagruel, by which the Book-seller got an Estate. But either this is an Error,
or viii Rabelais must have been more imposed on them our Sir Walter Rauleigh was by his
selfish Sta|tioner, since the above-mentioned Translation, which was Printed by the Famous
Gryphius of Lyons at first in 1532. was reprinted many times since, particularly in 1543. of
which Date, I have an an Edition of it; which was undoubtedly before Rabelais began to write his
Gargantua, and none ever mentioned any other Tract of Physic by him; and also when he speaks
of his Annotations on the Aphorisms of Hippo|crates, [Note: Contendit à me multis verbis ut eas
sinerem in communem stu|diosorum utilita|tem exire. ] he says, that Gry|phius importuned him
very much, to consent, that they might be prin|ted.

We do not know how he came to leave Montpellier, tho probably he was sent by its Vni|versity
to sollicit for them at Court, and then was invited to stay at Paris, of which John Du Bellay, his
Friend, afterwards Cardinal, was not only Bishop, but Governour; at least, 'tis certain he attended
him in his Embassy to Pope Paul the III. though I believe that the chief occasion of his going to
Rome, was to put a stop to the Ecclesia|stical Censures fulminated against h[...]· for lea|ving his
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Convent, and 'tis thought the Bishop of Maillezais abetted that desertion, and incoura|ged him in
his Studies at Montpellier, which ix perhaps made Rabelais, afterwards dedicate to him, [Note:
Hic non dicam quâ ratione adductus sim id, quicquid est labo|ris, tibi ut dicarem. Tibi enim jure
de|betur quicquid efficere opera mea potest; qui me sic tu[...] benignitate usque fovisti ut
quo|cunque oculos circumf[...]ram· [...] munificentiae tuae sensibus meis obversetur. ] and own
then, that he owed all things to him.

'Tis likely our Doctor had then a Prospect of the Benefices, with which he soon afterwards was
gra|tified by that Cardinal; and for that Reason was glad to be eased of the Censures, under
which he lay, which made him uncapable of enjoying any thing. The Bishop of Montpellier
himself was a Protestant, and might have kept always his Bishopric, had he written as Mystically
as Ra|belais. The Cardinal Chastillon also, was not only a Protestant, but Married as well as
John de Montluc, Bishop of Valence; yet as well as many others in those Times, who were
against the Errors of the Church of Rome in their Hearts, they had Benefices in it, and favoured
the Re|formation perhaps more than those who openly professed it. So Rabelais seems to me to
have passed into Italy only in the quality of a peni|tent Monk, being first obliged to submit to his
Abbot and the Orders of the Convent which he had left many Years, else had he been then x
Physician to Cardinal Du Bellay, then Embas|sador to the Pope, he would not have
Recommended him|self to the Alms of his Su|perior, [Note: Epist: de Rabel. Pag. 5. p. 49. ] the
Bishop of Mail|lezais, as he does in his Letters to that Prelate, to whom he writes, that the last
Money which he had caused him to receive, was almost gone; [Note: Et si n'en ay rien despendu
en Mes|chance[...]é. Epist. de Rabel. pag 49. ] tho, says he, I have put none of it to an ill Use.
Neither would he have added that he used constantly to Eat either with Cardinal Du Bellay, or
the Bi|shop of Mascon, who had succeeded him in the Embassy (doubtless upon the other's
Promotion to the Rank of Cardinal) but that much M[...]ney was spent in Dispatches, Cloaths and
Chamber-Rent; which shews also, that tho he as a Friend did Eat with one of those two, yet he
paid for his Lodging elsewhere. By these Letters which Messieurs de Sainte Marthe, Gentlemen
Fa|mous for Learning, have not disdain'd to publish with their learned and curious Observatio[...]s
of ten times their length, We see that Rabelais held also a private Correspondence in Characters
with the Bishop of Maillezais, to whom they are directed, and that the Bishop was far from being
bigotted to Popery. We also know by them, that Rabelais obtained his Absolution of Pope Paul
the III. the 17th. of January 1536. whereby he had leave given him to return to Ma|illezais, xi
and to practice Physic, either at Rome, or elsewhere; that is, without any gain, and on|ly by
Charity. We also find that he had gained the Esteem of Cardinal de Genutiis esteemed the
Orna|ment of the College, [Note: Sadoletus Ital. Sacr. T. 3. ] and Cardinal Simone[...]ta, emi|nent
for Vertue, and other worthy Prelates, besides that of Du Bellay and the Bishop of Mascon, who
procured him his Bulls gratis, and had ev'n offered him to make use of their King's Name, had it
been needful.

'Tis reported, That Bishop Du Bellay, as King Francis the First's Embassador, when he had
Audience of Paul III. having kissed that Pope's Slipper, which Ceremony is by some called,
Adoration; all the rest of his Retinue did the same; if we except Rabelais, who fixed as a Pillar,
on which he leaned, said, that if the Em|bassador, who was a very great Lord in France, was
unworthy to kiss the Pope's Feet, they might ev'n let down his Holinesses Breeches, and wash'd
his A--- and then he might presume to kiss something about him.
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Another time, That Cardinal having brought him, with the rest of his Retinue to that Pope, that
they might beg some Grace of his Holiness, Rabelais, being bid to make his Demand, only beg'd,
that his Holiness would be pleased to Ex|communicate him.

xii So strange a Request having caused much sur|prise; he was Ordered to say why he made it.
[Note: 'Tis the same of whom Alstedius and others write, it was said in 1540. Paulo III. Optimo
Maximo in terris Deo. ] Then Addressing himself to that Pope, who was doubtless a great Man,
and had no|thing of the Moroseness of many others: May it please your Holiness, said he, I am a
French-Man of a little Town, called, Chinon, whose Inhabitants are thought somewhat too
sub|ject to be thrown into a sort of unpleasant Bon-Fires; and indeed, a good Number of honest
Men, and amongst the rest, some of my Relations, have been fairly Burn'd there already: Now
would your Holiness but Ex|communicate me, I would be sure never to Burn. My reason is, that,
passing through the Tarentese, where the Cold was very great, in the way to this City with my
Lord Cardinal Du Bellay, having reach'd a little Hurr, where an Old Woman lived, we pray'd
her to make a Fire to warm us, but she burn'd all the Straw of her Bed to kindle a Faggot, yet
could not make it burn; so that at last, after many Imprecati|ons, she cryed, without doubt this
Fagot was Excommunicated by the Pope's own Mouth, since it will not burn: In short, we were
obliged to go on without warming our selves. Now if it pleased your Holiness, xiii bu[...] to
Excommunicate me thus, I might go safely to my Country. By this, he not only in a jesting
manner, exposed the Roman Clergy's persecuting Temper, but seem'd to allude to the Inefficacy
of the former Pope's Excommunica|tions in England, and chiefly in Germany; where they only
served to warn our Henry the VIII and on the other side, the Lutherans, to secure them|selves
against the attempts of their Enemies.

He that would not spare the Pope to his Face, was doubtless not less liberal of his biting Iokes to
others: [Note: Particul. de la vie de Rabelais, impre. devant ses Oeuures. ] Insomuch, that he
was ob|liged to leave Rome without much preparation; not think|ing himself safe among the
Italians, who of all Men, love and forgive raillery the least, when they are the subject of it.

So being come as far as Lyons in his way to Paris, very indifferently Accoutred, and no Mony·
to proceed, whether he had been Robbed, or had spent all his Stock; he, who had a peculiar love
for Ease and good Eating, and no less Zeal for good Drinking, found himself in dismal
Circumstances. So he had recourse to a Strata|gem which might have been of dangerous
Con|sequence to one less known than Rabelais.

Being Lodg'd at the Tower and Angel, a Famous Inn in that City, he took some of the Ashes in
the Chimney, and having wrap'd them up in several little papers, on one of them be writ Poyson
to kill the King, in another, xiv Poyson to kill the Queen, in a third, Poyson to kill the Duke of
Orleans, and having on the Change met a young Merchant, told him, That being skill'd in
Physiognomy he plainly saw that he had a great desire to get an Estate easily; therefore, if he
would come to his Inn, he would put him in a way to gain a Hundred Thousand Crowns; the
greedy Merchant was very ready. So when he had Treated our Doctor, he came to the main point,
that is, how to get the Hundred Thousand Crowns; Then Rabelais, after t'other Bottle or two,
pretending a great deal of Caution, at last shewed him the papers of Pow|der, and proposed to
him, to make use of them according to their Superscriptions, which the other promised, and they
appointed to meet the next day, to take Measures about it; but the too Credu|lous, though honest,
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Trader, immediately ran to a Iudge, who having heard the Information, imme|diately sent to
secure Rabelais, the Dauphin having been Poysoned some time before; so the Doctor with his
Powder was seiz'd, and being examined by the Iudge, gave no answer to the Accusation, safe
that, he told the young Mer|chant, that he had never thought him fit to keep a Secret, and only
desired them to secure what was in the Papers, and send him to the King, for he had strange
things to say to him.

Accordingly, he is carefully sent to Paris, and handsomly treated by the way on free Cost, as are
all the King's Prisoners, and being come to Paris, was immediately brought before the King, xv
who knowing him, asked him, what he had done to be brought in that Condition, and where he
had left the Cardinal Du Bellay. Vpon this the Judge made his Report, shew'd the Bills with the
Powder, and the Informations which he had drawn, Rabelais on his side told his Case, took some
of all the Powders before the King; which being found to be only harmless Wood Ashes,
plead|ed for Rabelais so effectually, that the business ended in Mirth, and the poor Iudge was
only laugh'd at for his Pains.

Though this Story be Printed before many Edi|tions of Rabelais, somewhat otherwise than I here
give it, I would not any more be answerable for its Truth, than for that of many more which
Tradition ascribes to him. When a Man has once been very famous for Iests and merry
Ad|ventures, he is made to adopt all the Iests that want a Father, and many times such as are
un|worthy of him. For this Reason I will omit many Stories which some indeed relate of
Rabe|lais· but which few can assure or believe to be true. Yet since the witty Sayings, merry
Triflings and the Accounts of the indifferent Actions of Great Men, have found not only their
Historians but their Readers, from Tully's Puns, to the false Witticisms, insipid Drolling, and
empty insignifi|cant Remarks, that make up the greatest part of the Scaligeriana, and some others
of those unequal Collections of Weeds and Flowers, whose Titles end in ana; we may with
greater Reason relate the Iests of Rabelais, whose Life as well as his xvi Writings have been
thought a continual Iest· and this would not s[...]em to be the Life of Rabe|lais, did not some
Comical Stories make a part of it.

Neither were his Iests sometimes less produ|ctive of Good, than the deep Earnest of others. Of
which the Vniversity of Montpellier fur|nishes us with an Instance: None being admitted to the
Degree of Doctor of Physic there, [Note: Grand Diction. Historiq. ] who has not first put on the
Gown and Cap of Dr. Rabelais, [Note: Voyage de l'Eu|rope, T. 1. ] which are preserved in the
Castle of Mo[...]ac in that City. The Cause of this uncommon Veneration for the Memory of that
Learned Man, is said to be this:

Some Scholars having oc|casioned an extraordinary Disorder in that City, [Note: Partic. delavie.
de Rabelais. ] An|thony Du Prat, Cardinal, Archbishop of Sens, then Lord Chancellor of France,
upon Complaint made of it, caused the Vniversity to be depriv'd of part of its Privileges. Vpon
this, none was thought fitter to be sent to Paris to sollicit their Restitution than our Doctor, who,
by his Wit, Learning and Eloquence, as also by the Friends which they had purchased him at
Court, seem'd made to obtain any thing. When he came to Paris about it, the Difficulty lay in
gaining Audience of the Chancellor, who was so incensed, that he refused to hear any thing xvij
in Behalf of the Vniversity of Montpellier. So Rabelais having vainly tried to be admitted, at last
put on his Red Gown and Doctor's Cap; and thus Accoutred, came to the Chancellor's Palace, on
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St. Austin's Key; but the Porter and some other Servants mistook him for a Mad-man· So
Rabelais having, in a peremptory Tone, been ask'd there, who he was, let his impertinent Querist
know, that he was the Gentleman who usually had the Honour to flea He-Calves; and that, if he
had a mind to be first flead, he had best make haste and strip immediately. Then being ask'd
some other Questions, he answer'd in Latin, which the other understanding not, one of the
Chancellor's Officers that could speak that Tongue was brought, who addressing himself to our
Doctor in Latin, was answered by him in Greek, which the other understanding as little as the
first did Latin, a third was fetch'd who could speak Greek; but he no sooner spoke in that
Language to Rabe|lais, but that he was answered in Hebrew; and one who understood Hebrew
being with much Difficulty procur'd, Rabelais spoke to him in Syriac: Thus having exhausted all
the Learning of the Family, the Chancellor, who was told, that there was a merry Fool at his Gate
who had out-done every-one, not only in Languages, but in smartness of Repartees, desired that
he might be brought in. 'Twas a little before Dinner. Then Rabelais shifting the Farcical Scene
into one more serious, addrest himself to the Chancellor with much Respect, and having first
made his xviij Excuse for his forc'd Buffoonry, in a most Elo|quent and Learned Speech, so
effectually pleaded the Cause of his Vniversity, that the Chancellor, at once ravish'd and
perswaded, not only promised the Restitution of the Abolish'd Privileges, but made the Doctor sit
down at Table with him as a particular Mark of his Esteem.

Much about that time, hearing with what Fa|cility, for the sake of a small Sum of Money, the
Faculty of Orange (some say Orleans) ad|mitted Ignorant Pretenders, as Doctors of Physic not
only without examining, but even without seeing them; Rabelais sent the usual Fees, and had one
received Doctor there unseen, by the Name of Doctor Johannes Caballus, and let the wise
Professors and the World know after|wards, what a worthy Member they had admit|ted into their
Body, since that very Doctor was his Horse Jack; or, as some say, his Mule: For if there are
various Lections, there may well be also various Traditions of the same Passage.

Though I know that it as little becomes a Chast Historian to launch into large Digressions, as to
advance Things without good Authorities, I can|not forbear mentioning something very
particular concerning that very Numerical Doctor, I mean, Joannes Caballus: And that I may not
be thought to relate Stories without Authorities, I will make bold to quote that of a Book written
Stylo maximè Rabelaesano, viz. Le Moyen de Parvenir; I remember to have read the Story in a
less Apocriphal Author, but Time hath xix blotted his Name out of my Memory.

Rabelais being at Paris, and more careful of himself than of his Mule, had trusted it to the Care
of a Printer's Men, desiring them at least not to let it want Water. But having perhaps forgot to
make them drink, they also easily, though uncharitably forgot the Brute. At three days end the
Creature having drank as little Water as its Master, a young unlucky Boy took a Fancy to get on
its back, even like the Miller's Daughter, without a Saddle; another Truand Scholar begg'd to get
behind him, so did a third and eke a fourth. Thus these Four being mounted like Aymond's Four
Sons a Horse back on a Mule, without Bridle or Halter, the real and living Emblem of Folly, the
Grave Animal walk'd leasurely down St. James's street, till it came near a Church, to|wards
which it moved, drawn by the magnetic Vertue of the Water, which it smelt at a consi|derable
Distance, in the Holy Water Pot, which is always near the Porch. And in vain our Four Riders
kick'd and call'd, in spight of them the Headstrong thirsty Beast made up to the Holy Element;
and though the Church was almost full of People, it being Sunday and Sermon time,
 10

notwithstanding all Opposition, the bold Monster dipped its saucy Snout in the Sanctified
Cistern. The People that were near it, were not a little amaz'd at the Impudence of that
Sacrilegious Animal, deservedly curst with Sterility, though it were but for this one Crime; Many
took him for a Spectrum that bore some Souls, formerly Here|tical, xx but now Penitent, that
came to seek the sweet Refrigeratory of the Saints, out of the more than Hellish Flames of
Purgatory. So the un|concern'd Mule took a swinging Draught of Holy Liquor, yet did not like it
so well, there being al|ways Salt in it, as to take a second Dose; but, having somewhat allayed its
raging Thirst, mo|destly withdrew, with her two [...]race of Youngsters. However the thing did
not end thus; for the Brute was seized, and Rabelais being thought none of the greatest Admirers
of the Romish Fopperies, was shrewdly suspected of having laid the Design of that Scandalous
Adventure. Nor was the rude Four-legg'd Joannes Caballus re|leased out of the Pound, till its
Master had dear|ly paid for its Drink.

As he Ridicul'd the Superstition of Priests, he also was extreamly free in his Reflections on the
Monks, and truly he knew them too well to Love and Esteem them; he is said not to have been
able to refrain his Satyrical Temper, even while he was reading public Service; and instead of
Qui maechantur cum illâ, as the Vulgate has it, to have said aloud, Qui monachantur cum illâ.

'Tis also said, That as he was kneeling once at Church, before the Statue of King Charles the
Eighth, a Monk came and said to him, That doub[...]less he mistook that King's Statue for that of
some Saint; but Rabelais immediately replied, I am not so much a Monk (Blockhead I mean) as
thou thinkest me; nor yet so blind, xxi as not to know, that I kneel before the repre|sentation of
King Charles the VIII. for whose Soul I Prayed, because he brought the Pox out of Naples into
this Kingdom, by which means, I, and other Physicians have been considerable Gainers.

Several of these being once Assembled to consult about an Hypocondriac humour, which
confined Cardinal Du Bellay to his Bed; they at last re|solved, that an Aperitive Decoction should
be prepared, to be frequently taken with some Syrup, by the Patient. Now Rabelais who was his
Physician, perhaps not being of their Opinion, while the rest of our Learned Doctors were still
discoursing in their Scientific Iargon, to deserve the large Fee, caused a Fire to be made in the
Yard, and on it to be set a Kettle-ful of Water, into which he had put as many Keys as he could
get: And while he was very busie in stirring them about with a Stick, the Doctors coming down,
saw him, and asked what he was doing? Following your Directions, replied he. How, in the
Name of Gulen? cry'd one of them· you are for something that may be very aperitive, returned
Rabe|lais, and, by Hippocrates, I think you will own that nothing can be more Aperitive than
Keys, unless you would have me send to the Arcenal for some peices of Cannon. This odd Fancy
being immediately related to the sick Cardinal, set him into such a fit of Laughing, that it helped
more to cure him than the Pre|scription; and what made the Iest the more per|tinent, xxii was, that
Keys are made of Iron and Steel, which with Water are the cheif Ingredi|ents in Chalibeat
Medicines.

Hearing that the grave John Calvin, some|what prejudic'd against him, for his biting Iokes, had
play'd on his Name by the way of Anagram; saying Rabelaesius, Rabie laeus; he with an
admirable presence of mind, immediately returned the Complement in the same kind, saying,
Calvin Jan cul, adding, that there was Anagram for Anagram, and that a Studied trifle only
deserved to be paid back with one worse, ex tempore.
 11

Thus, while like Democritus, he made him|self Me[...]ry with the Impertinences of Mankind;
nothing was able to allay his Mirth, unless it were the thought of a Reckoning, at the time that he
paid it; then indeed, he was thought somewhat serious, though probably 'twas partly that those
who were to receive it, might not impose on him and the Company, and because he generally
found his Purse not over full. However, the time of paying the Shot in a Tavern among good
Fellows, or Pantagruelists, is still called in France, le quart d' heure de Rabelais; that is,
Rabelais's quarter of an hour.

Yet his Enemies, the Monks and some others tell us, that he seemed much less Concerned when
he payed the grand Shot of Life, than when he discharged a small Tavern Reckoning: For they
say, that he faced Death with an unconcern'd and careless Countenance; and in short, that he
Died just as he Lived. They relate the thing thus.

xxiii Rabelais being very Sick, Cardinal Du Bellay sent his Page to him, to have an account of
his condition; his answer was, Tell my Lord in what Circumstances thou findest me; [Note:
Jem'en vay cher|cher vn grand Peut-estre. Il est au nid de la Pie. Which verbatim English|ed, is;
I am go|ing to seek, or look for a great May Be (Doubt or Vncertain|ty). He is in the Pye's Nest,
&c. ] I am just go|ing to leap into the Dark. He is up in the Cock-Loft bid him keep where he is.
As for thee, thou'[...]t al|ways be a Fool: Let down the Curtain, the Farce is done. A little before
this, he had called for his Domino, so some in France call a sort of Hood which Curates wear,
saying, put me on my Domino, for I am cold; besides, I will Die in it, for, Beati qui in Domi|no
moriuntur. An Au|thor who stiles Rabelais, [Note: Thev. Hist. de Iean Clopinel! ] a Man of
Excellent Learn|ing, Writes, that he be|ing importuned by some to sign a Will, whereby they had
made him bestow on them Legacies that exceeded his Ability, He to be no more di|sturbed,
complied at last with their Desires; but when they came to ask him where they should find a
Fund answerable to what he gave; as for that, replied he, You must do like the Spaniel, look
about and search; then, adds that Author, having said, Draw the Curtain, the Farce is xxiv over,
he Died. Likewise, a Monk not only tells us, [Note: P. de St. Romuald Rel. Feuillent. ] that he
ended his Life with that [...]est, but that he left a Paper Sealed up, wherein were found three
Articles, [...] his Last-Will, I owe much, I have nothing, I give the rest to the Poor.

This last Story, or that before it, must undoubt|edly be false; and perhaps both are so, as well as
the Message by the Page; though Freigius relates also, [Note: Comment in Orat. Cic. Tom. 1. ]
that Rabelais said, when he was Dying, Draw the Curtain, &c. But, if he said so, many great
Men have said much the same. Thus Au|gustus near his Death, ask'd his Friends, [Note: Nunquid
vitae mi|mum commodè peregisset. ] Whe|ther he had not very well Acted the Farce of Life? And
Demonax, one of the best Philosophers, when he saw that he could not, by reason of his great
Age, live any longer, without being a Burthen to others as well as to himself, said to those that
were near him, what the Herald used to say when the public Games were ended, You may with-
draw, [Note: Lucian. ] the Show is over, and refusing to Eat, kept his usual Gayety to the [...]ast,
and set himself at Ease.

I wave many other Stories, concerning Rabe|lais, which seem as Inconsistent and Fabulous as
the xxv Legends of Symeon the Metaphrast. St. Xavier's Miracles, or the Traditions of the
Monks, our witty Satyrist's irreconcileable Enemies. We ought not easily to believe that [...]e,
who even in the most Licentious Places of his Merry Composures is thought by the Iudicious to
 12

have generally a design to expose Vil|lany, and in the Places that are Graver, as also in his
Letters, displays all the Moderation and Iudgment of a good Man; we ought not, I say, to believe,
that such a Man in his seventieth Year, can have abandoned himself to those Excesses; being
Curate of a large Parish near Paris, Pre|bend of St. Maur des Fossez in that City, and honour'd,
and lov'd by many Persons equally emi|nent for Vertue, Learning and Quality.

'Twas by a Person, who with those three advan|tages, was also a great States-Man, and a very
good Latin Poet, I mean, John Cardinal Du Bellay Bishop of Paris, who knew Rabelais from his
Youth, that he was taken from the Profession of Physic, to be employed by that Prelate in his
most Secret Negotiations; 'Twas he that knew him best, yet he thought him not unworthy of
being one of the Prebends of a Famous Chapter in a Metropolis, and Curate of Meudon in his
Diocess.

'Twas doubtless in that pleasant Retreat, that he composed his Gargantua and Pantagruel; tho'
some say 'twas at that House call'd Douiniere al|ready mention'd, and that the Neighbouring
Abbey of Sevillé, whose Monks liv'd not then according to the Austerity of their Rule, is partly
the Subject of i[...], which causes him, They say· to make so of|ten xxvi mention of the Monks the
Staff of the Cross, and the Vine-yard of Sevillé; as also of Basché, Lerné, Panzoust, &c. which
are Places near that Abbey.

The Freedom which Rabelais has used in that Work, could not but raise it many Enemies: Which
caused him to give an Account in his Dedica|tory Epistle, [Note: Oeuures de Rabel. Epist. Dedic.
liv. 4. ] to Odet Car|dinal of Chastillon, his Friend, of the Motive that induc'd him to Write it.
There he tells him, that though his Lordship knew how much he was daily Importun'd to
con|tinue it by several great Persons, who alledg'd, that many, who languish'd through Grief or
Sick|ness, reading it, had receiv'd extraordinary Ease and Comfort; yet, the Calumnies of a sort
of un|charitable Men, who said, it was full of Heresies, though they could not shew any there
without perverting the Sence, had so far Conquered his Pa|tience, that he had resolv'd to write no
more on that subject. But that his Lordship having told him, that King Francis had found the
reports of his Enemies to be unjust, as well as King Henry the [...], then Reigning, who therefore
had granted to that Cardinal his Priviledge, and particular Protection for the Author of those
Mithologies; now, without any fear, under so Glorious and Powerful a Pa[...]ronage, he securely
presum'd to write on.

And indeed, 'tis observable, that in the Book to which that Epistle is prefix'd, he has more freely
xxvii than in the rest exposed the Monks, Priests, Pope, Decretals, Council of Trent then sitting,
&c.

That Epistle is Dated the 28. of January 1552. and some write that he Died in 1553. By this
Epigram, [Note: Thres. Chronol. de St. Romuald. ] Printed before his last Book, Rabelais seems
to have been Dead before it was Published.

Rabelais est il mort? Voicy encor un Livre!

Non, sa meilleure part a repris ses esprits,
 13

Pour nous faire present de l'un de ses escrits

Qui le rend entre nous immortel & fait vivre

[Note: This seems to be a kind of an A|nagram perhaps made by the great Civilian Tiraqueau. ]
Nature quite.

This Satyrical Work, employed him only at his spare hours, for he tells us, that he spent no time
in Composing it, but that which he usually allowed himself for Eating; yet it has deserved the
Com|mendations of the best of serious Writers, and particularly of the great Thuanus, whose
appro|bation alone is a Panegyric. And if we have not many other serious Tracts by its Author,
the pri|vate Affairs of Cardinal Du Bellay, in which he was employed, and his profession as a
Physician and a Curate, may be supposed to be the Cause of it Yet he Published a Latin Version
of the Apho|risms of Hippocrates, and with them some of xxviii Galen's Works, which for its
faithfulness and pu|rity of Stile, has been much esteemed by the best Iudges of both: Nor is
Vorstius, who attempted the same, s[...]d to have succeeded so well. Rabe|lais also Wrote several
French and Latin Epi|stles, in an excellent Sty[...]e, to several Great and Learned Men, and
particularly, to Cardinal de Chastillon, the Bishop of Maillezais, and An|drew Tiraqueau, the
Fa|mous Civilian, [Note: Thresor. Chron. de St. R[...]muald. ] who is said Yearly to have given a
Book, and by one Wife, a Son to the World, [Note: Others more pro|bably reduce the Number to
Ten Sons, at the Birth of each of whom he Published a Learned Polio. ] during Thirty Years,
though he never drank any thing but Water; in which he differed much from his Friend Rabelais.
Those Epi|stles do not only shew, that he was a Man fit for Negotiati|ons, but that he had gain'd
at Rome, the Friend|ship of several Eminent Prelates. He likewise writ a Book call[...]d
Sciomachia, and of the Feasts made at Rome, in the Pallace of Cardinal Du Bel|lay for the Birth
of the Duke of Orleans: Prin|ted at Lyons in 8o by Sebast Gryphius 1549, And there is an
Almanack for the Year 1553, Calculated by him for the Meridian of Lyons, and printed there,
which shews, that he was not only a Grammarian, Poet, Philosopher, Phy|sitian, Civilian, and
Theologian, but also an Astronomer. Besides, he was a very great Lin|guist, being well skill'd in
the French, German, xxix Italian, Spanish, Latin, Greek and Hebrew Tongues, and we see in his
Letters, that he also un|derstood Arabic, which he had learn'd at Rome of a Bishop of Caramith.

Some Write that Rabelais Died at Meudon, but Dom Pierre de St. Romuald, says, that Dr. Guy
Patin, Royal Professor at Paris, who was a great admirer of Rabelais, assur'd him, that he caused
himself to be brought from his Cure to Paris, where he lies Buried in St Paul's Church-Yard, at
the foot of a great Tree, still to be seen there (1660). He Died in a House in the Street, call'd, La
Rue des Jardins in St. Paul's Parish at Paris, about the Year 1553. Aged seventy Years. But his
Fame will never Die.

Estienne Pasquier Advocate General, one of the most learned and judicious Writers of his Age,
Joachim Du Bellay Arch-deacon of Paris, Nam'd to the Arch-bishopric of Bordeaux, Peter
Boulanger, Peter Ronsard, once Prince of the French Poets, Jean Antoine de Baif, and ma|ny
more of the best pens of his Age, honour'd his Memory with Epitaphs, the two latter in French.
That by Ronsard, being too long, I omit; here is that by Baif.
 14

Pluton, Prince du noir Empire,

Où les tiens ne rient jamais,
Recois aujourd' huy Rabelais,
Et les tiens auront de quoy rire.

xxx Here are Four others in Latin; of which the two first are to be found in Pasquier.

[Note: Pasq. Recueil des Portraits. ] Ille ego Gallorum Gallus De|mocritus, illo
Gratius, aut si quid Gallia progenuit.
Sic homines, sic & coelestia Numina lusi,
Vix homines, vix ut Numina laesa putes.

[Note: Pasq. Liv. des Tomb. ] Sive tibi sit Lucianus alter,
Sive sit Cynicus, quid hospes ad te?
Hac unus Rabelaesius facetus,
Nugarum Pater, artifexque mirus,
Quicquid is fuerit, recumbit urnâ.

Somnus, & ingluvies, Bacchus{que} Venus{que} Jocus{que}

Numina, dum vixi, grata fuere mihi.
Caetera quis nescit? Fuit Ars mihi cura me|dendi,
Maxima ridendi sed mihi cura fuit.
Tu quoque non lacrymas, sed risum solve, Viator,
Si gratus nostris Manibus esse velis.

Non Rabelaesius solus

Sed aula, Ecclesia,
Et omnis Mundus
Agunt Histrioniam.

xxxi A great number of Learned Men have made mention of him in their Writings, as Will. Budé
Master of the Requests, alias, Budaeus in Epi|stolis Graecis. Jac. Aug. de Thou, President in the
Court of Parliament at Paris, alias Thu|anus, Hist. Lib. 38. & Commentar. de vitâ suâ, lib. 6.
Theod. B[...]za, Clement. Maro[...], who inscribed to him an Imitation in French of the 21st. Epig.
of Martial's Fifth Book, Si te cum mihi, Chare Martialis, &c. Hugh Salel, that Translated
Homer's Iliad into French. Stephen Dolet, a French and Latin Poet, burn'd for being a Protestant
 15

at Paris, 1545. Peter Ronsard. Stephen Pasquier in his Re|cherches de la France, and in the First
and Se|cond Books of his Lettres. Jean Cecile Frey. Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam, in his Book
of the Progress of Learning. Andrew Du Chesne, in his Book des Antiqui[...]ez de France. Thevet,
Hist. de Jean Clopinel: Gab. Mic. de la Roche Maillet, Vie des Illust. Personnages: Fran. Grudé,
Seigneur de la Croix du Maine, in his Biblioteque. Ant. du Verdier Sieur de Vauprivas Conseiller
du Roy, in his Bibl. Universelle. Franc. Ranchin Dr. of Physic at Montpellier. Scaevola de Sainte
Marthe, Conseiller du Roy, &c. alias Samarthanus, lib. primo Elog. Clarorum Virorum. Sir
William Temple, in the Second Part of his Miscellan. C. Sorel, First Historiographer of France,
in his Biblioteque Francoise. Dr. Ant· Van Dale, De Oraculis & Consecra|tionibus. xxxij
Monsieur Costar, dans son Apologie· M. Menage. Romuald, in the Third part of his Thresor
Chronologique; and several others named in a Book called Floretum Philosophi|cum, that
mentions many particulars of his Life; and the Names of those that have spoke of him. A Curate
of Meudon, in Honour of his Predecessor, also caused to be Printed whatever is writ in his Praise,
which Books I have not been able to find. There is also a large Account of Rabe|lais in the Grand
Historical French Dictionary.

xxxiij

Some Learned Mens OPINION OF Dr. RABELAIS·

De Rabelaeso, clarorum aliquot Scriptorum Testimonia.

Guilielmus Budaeus, in Epistolis Graecis.

O Deum immortalem, & sodalitatis Praesulem, nostrae{que} amicitiae Princi|pem! Quidnam est
illud quod an|divimus? Te etenim ô caput mihi exopta|tum, & Rabalaesum Theseum tuum
intelligo ab istis elegantiae & venustatis osoribus Soda|libus vestris obturbatos propter vehemens
circa literas Graecas studium, quam plurimis gravibus{que} malis vexari. Papae, ô in fau|stam
xxxiv virorum delirationem! Qui usque adeò sunt animo ineleganti ac stupido, ut, quibus
cohonestari universum Sodalitium vestrum convenerat, multúmque sapere, quippe qui exiguo
temporis Spatio ad doctrinae fasti|gium pervenerint, eosdem sanè calumniosè insimulando, in
ipsosque conjurando finem imponere conati sunt ornatissimae exercitationi. Et post alia. Vale &
salutato meo nomine quater Rabalaesum scitum & industrium vel sermone si praestò sit aut per
Epistolas de|nuncians.---

Viri Illustriss. Iac. Aug. Thuani in Supremo Gall[...]arum Senatu Prae|sidis.

 16

Commentariorum de vita sua. lib. 6.

CHinone hospitium habebat (Thuanus) in domo oppidi amplissimâ, quae quon|dam Francisci
Rabalaesi suit, qui litteris Grae|cis, Latinisque instructissimus, & Medicinae quam profitebatur
peritissimus, postremo omni serio studio omisso se totus vitae solutae ac gulae mancipavit &
ridendi artem hominis, sicut ipse ai[...]bat propriam, amplexus, De|mocriticà xxxv libertate, &
scur[...]ili interdum di|cacitate, scriptum ingeniosissimum fecio, quo vitae regnique cunctos
Ordines quasi in sce|nam sub fictis nominibus produxit & populo deridendos propinavit.
Hominis ridiculi qui totâ vitâ ac scriptis, ridendi aliis materiam praebuit, memoria à Thuano &.
Calignono hîc renovata est, cum bellè cum Rabelaesi Manibus actum uterque dicerer, quod
Domus ejus publico diversorio, in quo perpetuae com|messationes erant, hortus adjacens ad
ludum oppidanis per dies festos se exercentibus, pro|jectum in hortum despiciens, in quo, cum
litteris operam dabat, libros habere & stu|dere solitus erat, vinariae cellae inserviret. Ex eâque
occasione Thuanus à Calignono inviratus, hoc Carmen extemporaneum fe|cit.

Ipse Rabelaesus loquitur.

Sic vixi, ut vixisse mihi jocus, atque legenti

Quos vivus scripsi, sit jocus usque jocos.
Per risum atque jocos homini data vita fruenda,
Inter amarescit seria felle magis.
Et nunc ne placidos laedant quo{que} seria manes
Cavit Echionii provida cura Dei.
Nam quae à patre domus fuerat Chinone re|licta,
Quâ vitreo Lemovix amne Vigenna fluit,
Postquam abii, communis in usum versa ta|bernae,
Laetisico strepitu nocte dieque sonat.
xxxvi Ridet in hac hospes pernox, ridetur, in horto,
Cum populus festo cessat in urbe die.
Tibia{que} inflato saltantes incitat utre
Tibia Pictonicos docta ciere modos.
Et quae Musaeum domino, quae cella libellis
Nectareo spumat nunc apotheca mero.
Sic mihi post minimum vitae tam suaviter actum
Dent hodiè ad priscos fata redire jocos;
Non aliâ patrias aedes mercede locare,
Vendere non aliâ conditione velim.
 17

Theodorus Beza, de Francisco Ra|belaesio.

QUI sic Nugatur, tractantem ut seria vincat,

Seria cum faciet, dic rogo quantus erit?

xxxvij

Scaevola Samarthanus ex Libro pri|mo Elogiorum Gallorum Doctrina Illustrium.

F. Rabelesaeus---Impulsu quorumdam Procerum, qui urbanâ ejus dicacitate plurimum

oblectabantur, Monasterii claustra juvenis transiliit, demumque in ridendis ho|minum actionibus
totus fuit. Cùm enim, pro eâ qua pollebat Linguarum & Medicinae Scientià, multa graviter &
eruditè posset scribere, quod & Hippocratis Aphorismi ab illo castâ fide traducta, & aliquot
Epistolae nitido Stylo conscriptae satis indicant, Lucia|num tamen aemulari maluit, ad cujus
exem|plum ea Sermone Patrio finxit, quae nugae esse videntur, sed ejusmodi tamen sunt ut
Lectorem quemlibet eruditum capiant, & incredibili quadam voluptate perfundant. Neque solùm
erat in scribendo salis & face|tiarum plenus, verum & eandem jocandi li|bertatem apud quemlibet
& in omni sermone retinebat; adeò ut Romam Joanne Bellajo Cardinale profectus, & in Pauli III.
con|spectum venire jussus, ne ipsi quidem Ponti|fici Maximo pepercerit. Atque hunc
intem|perantiae suae causam ingeniosè praetexebat, quòd cum sanitati conservandae nihil magis
xxxviij officiat quàm maeror & aegrimonia, prudentis Medici partes sint non minus in mentibus
hominum exhilarandis, quàm in corporibus curandis laborare.

Anton. Van Dale; De Oraculis & Consecrationibus, p. 341.

DE Oraculis & Sortibus inter alia scripsit per Lusum & Jocum doctissimus & mag[...]us ille
Gallus Rabelaesius, cujus nugae saepius multorum doctorum seria vincunt, in vitâ & gestis
Gargantuae & Pantagruelis, tam doctè meo judicio, quam lepidè ac falsè.

Sir William Temple in his Mis|cellanea; Second Part.

THE great Wits among the Moderns have been, in my Opinion, and in their several Kinds; of the
French Rabelais, and Montagne---Rabelais seems· to have been Father of the Ridicule, a Man of
excellent and universal Learning, as well as Wit; and xxxix though he had too much Game given
him for Satyr in that Age, by the Customs of Courts and of Convents, of Processes and of Wars,
of Schools and of Camps, of Ro|mances and Legends, yet he must be con|fest to have kept up his
vein of Ridicule, by saying many things so Smutty and Prophane, that a pious Man could not
have afforded, though he had never so much of that Coyn about him: And it were to be wished,
that the Wits who have imitated him, had not put too much value upon a Dress, that better
 18

Understandings would not wear (at least in public) and upon a compass they gave themselves,
which some other Men cannot take.

Mr. l'Abbe Costar, dans son Apo|logie, A Monsieur Menage, Pag. 149.

RAbelais est autant a la mode quil fut ja|mais. Ses railleries sont agreables d'un Agreément qui
ne finira point tant qu'il y aura Sur la Terre d' habiles Rieurs. Les modes & les habillemens
changeront toûjours, mais non pas celles des bons contes & des bons mots qui se soustiennent
d'eux mesmes, & qui sont en effet de bonnes choses. Ceux de Plaute & de Lucien quelques vieux
qu'ils xl foient, ne laissent pas de conserver la fleur & la Grace quils avoient dans leur
nouveau[...]é.

M. Estienne Pasquier, Conseiller du Roy, Avocat General en sa Chambre des Comptes a

Paris.

Au Livre de ses Recherches de la France.

JE mettray entre les Poetes du mesme Temps Francois Rabelais: Car combien qu'il ait crit en
prose les Faits heroiques de Gargantua & Pantagruel, il estoit mis au rang|des Poetes, comme
l'prend la responce que Marot fit a Sagon sous le nom de Fripelipes fon Valet.

Je ne voy point qu'un Saint Gelais,

Un Heroet, un Rabelais,
Un Brodeau, un Seve, un Chapuy.
Voisent escrivant contre luy.

Aux gayetez qu'il mit en lumiere, se moc|quans de toute chose il serendit le Nompareil! Dema
part je recognoitray franchement avoir l'esprit si folastre, que jene me lassay jamais de le lire, &
ne le leu jamais que je n'y trou|vasse matierede rire, & d'en faire mon profit tout ensemble.

xli
 19

PREFACE·

Wherein is given an Account of the Design and Nature of this Work, and a Key to some of
its most difficult Passages.

THE History of Gargantua and Pan|tagruel, has always been esteem'd a Masterpiece of Wit and
Learning, by the best Judges of both. Even the most grave and reserv'd among the Learned in
many Countries, but particularly in France, have thought it worthy to hold a place in their
Closets, and have past many hours in private with that diverting and instructive Companion. And
as for those whose Age and Profession did not incline them to be re|serv'd, all France can
witness that there has been but few of them who could not be said to have their Rabelais almost
by heart: Since Mirth could hardly be compleat among those that love it, unless their good Cheer
were season'd with some of Rabelais's Wit.

Fifty large Editions of that Book have not suffic'd the World, and though the Lan|guage xlij in
which it is writ, be not easily un|stood now by those who only converse with modern French
Books, yet it has been re|printed several Times lately in France and Hol|land, even in its
antiquated Style.

Indeed some are of Opinion, That the odd and quaint Terms used in that Book, add not a little to
the Satisfaction which is found in its perusal; but yet this can only be said of such of them, as are
understood; and when a Reader meets with many words that are unintelligible (I mean to him
that makes it not his business to know the meaning of dark and obsolete Expressions) the
Pleasure which what he understands yields him, is in a greater measure allay'd by his
disappo[...]ntment; of which we have Instances when we read Chau|cer, and other Books, which
we do not throughly understand.

Sir Thomas Vrwhart has avoided that ob|scurity in this following Translation of Rabe|lais, so that
most English Readers may now understand that Author in our Tongue, bet|ter then many of the
French can do in theirs. To do him justice it was necessary, that a Per|son not only Master of the
French, but also of much Leasure and Fancy should under|take the Task. The Translator was not
on|ly happy in their things, but also in being a learned Physitian, and having, besides, some
French Men near him, who understood Rabe|lais very well, and could explain to him the xliii
most difficult words; and I think that, before the first and second Books of Rabelais, which are
all that was formerly printed of that Au|thor in English, there were some Verses by Men of that
Nation in praise of his Transla|tion.

It was too kindly received, not to have encouraged him to English the remaining three Books, or
at least the Third (the fourth and fifth being in a manner distinct, as being Pantagruel's Voyage.)
Accordingly he translated the third Book, and probably would have finished the whole, had not
Death pre|vented him. So the said third Book being found long after in Manuscript among his
Papers somewhat incorrect, a Gentleman who is not only a very great Linguist, but also
de|servedly famous for his ingenious and learned Composures, was lately pleased to revise it, as
well as the two first which had been pub|lish'd about thirty years ago, and are extream|ly scarce.
 20

He thought it necessary to make considerable Alterations, that the Translation might have the
smartness, genuin Sence, and the very Style and Air of the Original; but yet to preserve the latter,
he has not thought fit to alter the Style of the Translation, which suits as exactly with that of the
Author as possi|ble, neither affecting the politeness of the most nice and refin'd of our Modern
English Wri|ters, nor yet the roughness of our antiqua|ted Authors, but such a Medium as might
xliv neither shock the Ears of the fi[...]st, nor dis|please those who would have an exact imita|tion
of the style of Rabelais.

Since the first Edition of those two Books of Rabelais was so favourably entertain'd, without the
third, without any account of the Author, or any Observations to discover that mysterious
History; 'Tis hop'd that they will not meet with a worse usage, now they appear again so much
improv'd, with the addition of a third, never printed be|fore in English, and a large account of the
Author's Life; but principally since we have here an Explication of the Enigmatic Sence of part
of that admirable Mythologist's Works, both which have been so long wan|ted, though never till
now publish'd in any Language.

THE ingenious of our Age, as well as those who liv'd when Rabelais com|pos'd his Gargantua
and Pantagruel, have been extreamly desirous of discovering the Truths which are hid under the
dark veil of Allego|ries in that incomparable work. The great Thuanus found it worthy of being
mention'd in his excellent History, as a most ingenious Satyr on Persons who were the most
distin|guish'd in the Kingdom of France by their Quality and Employments, and without doubt
he, who was the best of all our Mo|dern Historians, and liv'd soon after it was xlv writ, had trac'd
the private Design of Rabelais, and found out the true Names of the Persons whom he has
introduc'd on his Scene, with Names not only imaginary, but generally ri|diculous, and whose
Actions he represents as ridiculous as those Names. But as it would have been dangerous, having
unmask'd those Persons, to have expos'd them to public view, in a Kingdom where they were so
pow|erful; and as most of the Adventures which are mystically represented by Rabelais, relate to
the affairs of Religion, so those few who have understood the true sence of that Satyr, have not
dar'd to reveal it.

In the late Editions, some learned Men have given us a Vocabulary, wherein they ex|plain the
Names and Terms in it which are originally, Greek, Latin, Hebrew, or of other Tongues, that the
Text might thus be made more intelligible, and their work may be useful to those who do not
understand those Tongues. But they have not bad the same success in their pretended
Explications of the Names which Rabelais has given to the real Actors in this Farce; and thus
they have indeed fram'd a Key, but, if I may use the Allegory, 'twas without having known the
Wards and Springs of the Lock. What I advance, will doubtless be owned to be true by those
who may have observed that by that Key, none can discover in those Pythagorical Symbols (as
they are call'd in the Author's xlvi Prologue to the first Book) any Event that has a Relation to the
History of those to whom the Names mention'd by Rabelais, have been applyed by those that
made that preten|ded Key. They tell us in it, that King Grangousier is the same as King Lewis the
12th. of France, that Gargantua is Francis the first, and that Henry the second, is the true Name
of Pantagruel; but we discover none of Lewis the twelfth's Features in King Gran|gousier, who
does none of the Actions which History ascribes to that Prince, so that the King of Siam, or the
Cham of Tartary, might as reasonably be imagined to be Grangousier, as Lewis the twelfth; as
 21

much may be said of Gargantua, and of Pantagruel, who do none of the things that have been
remark'd by Historians, as done by the Kings, Francis the first, and Henry the second of France.

This Reason which of its self is very strong, will much more appear to be such, if we reflect on
the Author's Words in the Pro|logue to the first Book. In the perusal of this Treatise; says he, you
shall find another kind of Taste, and a Doctrine of a more profound and abstruse Consideration,
which will disclose to you the most glorious Doctrine and dreadful Mysteries, as well in what
concerneth your Religion, as matters of the public State and Life Oeconomical; My|steries,
which as he tells us, are the Juice and Substantial Marrow of his Work. To this Reason I add
another as strong and evident. xlvii It is, that we find in Grangousier, Gargantua and
Pantagruel, Characters that visibly di|stinguish them from the three Kings of France, which I
have nam'd, and from all the other Kings their Predecessors.

In the first Place, Grangousier's Kingdom is not France but a State particularly distinct from it,
which Gargantua and Pantagruel call Vto|pia.

Secondly, Gargantua is not born in the King|dom of France, but in that of Vtopia.

Thirdly, He leaves Paris, call'd back by his Father, that he might come to the Relief of his
Country, which was attack'd by Picrochole's Army.

And finally, Francis the First is distinguished from Gargantua in the 39th. Chap. of the first
Book, when Fryar Ihon des Entoumeures, says in the Presence of Gargantua, and eating at his
Table, had I been in the time of Iesus Christ, I would have kept him from being taken by the Iews
in the Garden of Olivet, and the Devil fail me, if I should have fail'd to cut off the Hams of these
Gentlemen Apostles, who ran away so basely af|ter they had well supp'd, and left their good
Ma|ster in the Lurch; I hate that Man worse than Poyson that offers to run away, when he should
fight and lay stoutly about him. Oh if I were but King of France for fourscore or an hundred
Years, by G--- I should whip like cut tail Dogs these Run aways of Pavia, a Plague take them,
&c.

But if Francis the First is not Gargantua, like|wise xlviij Pantagruel is not Henry the Second;
and if it were needful I would easily shew, That the Authors of that pretended Key have not only
been mistaken in those Names, but in all the others, which they undertook to decypher, and that
they only spoke at random without the least Grounds or Authorities from History.

All things are right so far; but the diffi|culty lyeth not there, we ought to show· who are the
Princes that are hid under the Names of Grangousier, Gargantua and Panta|gruel, if yet we may
suppose them to be Princes. But such a Discovery cannot be very easily made, because most of
their Actions are only described in Allegories, and in so confus'd and enigmatic a Manner, that
we do not know where to fix. This must be granted; yet 'tis not an impossible thing; and if we
can but once unmark Panurge, who is the ridiculous Hero of the Peece, we may soon guess by
the Servant, and the Air and Figure of his Ma|ster, who Pantagruel is,

We find these four Characters in Panurge,

 22

1. He is well skill'd in the Greek Hebrew and Latin Tongues, he speakes High and Low Dutch,
Polish, Spanish, Portuguese, English, Italian, &c.

2. He is learned, understanding, politic, sharp, cunning, and deceitful in the highest Degree.

3. He publicly professes the Popish Religi|on, tho he in reality laughs at it, and is nothing less
than a Papist.

xlix 4. His chief Concern next to that of Eat|ing is a Marriage, which he has a desire, yet is
affraid to contract, least he should meet with his Match; that is, a Wife even as bad as himself.

I do not know if those who, by the preten|ded Key, have been induc'd to believe that Panurge
was the Cardinal of Amboise in a Dis|guise, have been pleased to observe these four qualities; but
I am sure that nothing of all this can be applyed to that Prelate, unless it be, that in general he
was an able Minister of State. But all four were found in Iohn de Montluc Bishop of Valence and
Die, who was the eldest Brother of the Marschal de Montluc the most violent Enemy which the
Hugo|nots had in those Days.

1. Historians assure us, that he understood the Eastern Tongues, as al|so the Greek and the Latin,
[Note: Brantosme. Ec-Beza Hist. cles. ] the best of any Man in his time; and in sixteen
Embas|sies, to many Princes of Eu|rope, to whom he was sent in Germany, Eng|land, Scotland,
Poland, Constantinople, he doubtless learn'd the living Tongues which he did not know before.

2. He gain'd a great Reputation in all those Embassies, and his Wit, his Skill, his Penetration and
his Prudence, in observing a Conduct that contented all Persons, were u|niversally admired. But
he even out did l himself in the most difficult of all those Em|bassies, which was that of Poland,
to the Throne of which Kingdom he caus'd Henry de Valois Duke of Anjou, to be rais'd in spight
of the difficulties, which the Massacre of Paris that was wholly laid to his Charge in Poland (he
having been one of the chief Pro|moters of it) created concerning his Election. His Toils and his
happy Success in those im|portant Negotiations, caus'd him to take this Latin Verse for his
Motto,
Quae Regio in terris nostri non plena laboris?

3. The whole Kingdom of France, and particularly the Court, knew that he was a Calvinist, and
he himself did not make a Mystery of it, as appears by his preaching their Doctrin once before
the Queen, [Note: Brantosme. Du|pleix. Sponde. Maimbourg. Be|za. ] in a Hat and Cloak, after
the manner of the Cal|vinists, which caus'd the Constable of Mon[...]morency to say aloud, Why
do not they pull that Minister out of the Pulpit? Nay he was even condemn'd by Pius IV. as an
He|retick, but that Pope having not assigned him Judges in partibus according to the Laws of the
Kingdom, he kept his Bishoprick, and the Dean of Valence, who had accused him of being a
Calvinist, not being well able to make good his Charge, Montluc, who had mighty li Friends,
caus'd him to be punish'd for it; also after his Death, his Contract of Marriage with a
Gentlewoman call'd Anne Martin was found, yet he still kept in the Roman Church, and still
enjoy'd the Revenues of his Bishop|rick, as if he had been the most bigotted Papist in that
Kingdom. The Considerations that kept him from abjuring solemnly the er|rors of the Church of
Rome were, that Calvin let him know, that according to his Refor|mation, there could be no
 23

Bishops; he own'd that this Obstacle would not perhaps have hinder'd him from leaving that
Communion, could his Kitchin have follow'd him in the o|ther; excepting that, he was altogether
for a Reformation, and in all things favour'd [...] Professors, and 'tis what Rabelais has observ'd
when he makes him conclude all his Discour|ses in many Languages, with saying, that Venter
famelicus auriculis carere dicitur; at this time, [Note: Book 2. Chap. 9 ] I am in a very urgent
necessity to feed, my Teeth are sharp, my Belly empty, my Throat dry, and my Stomach fierce
and burning; all is ready, if you will but set me to work, it will be as good as a Balsamum for
sore Eyes, to see me guleh and raven it; for God's sake give order for it.

4. His chief Concern, next to that of living plentifully, was that of his Marriage, and as we have
observed, he Married, and had a Son whom he own'd, and who was after|wards lij legitimated by
the Parliament; 'tis the same who is famous in History by the name of Balagny, and who was
afterwards Prince of Cambray: his Father caus'd him to be sent into Poland, concerning the Duke
of Anjou's Election, of which we have spoke, and he was very serviceable to that Duke in it.
Now, 'tis that Marriage of the Bishop of Valence, that so much perplexes him by the name of
Panurge, in Rabelais's third Book, and which is the occasion of Pantagruel's Voy|age to the
Holy Bottle in the fourth and fifth.

'Tis much to be admired how a Bishop, that openly sided with the Calvinists, who was also a
Monk, yet marryed, and living with his Wife whom he had regularly wed|ded, could enjoy one of
the best Bishopricks in France, and some of the chief Employ|ments at Court. He must doubtless
have been extreamly cunning, and have had a very particular Talent to keep those envied posts in
the Church and State, in spight of all those disavantages, in the midst of so many storms rais'd
against him and the Re|formation, by Enemies that had all the Forces of the Kingdom in their
Power, and could do whatever they pleased.

This Prudence and Craftiness is described to the Life by our Author, when he makes Panurge
relate, how he had been broach'd upon a Spit by the Turks, all larded like a Rab|bet, liij and in
that manner was roasting alive; when calling on God, that he might deliver him out of the pains
wherein they detained him for his sincerity in the maintenance of his Law, the Turn-spit fell
asleep by the Divine Will; and Panurge having taken in his Teeth a Fire-brand by the end where
it was not burn'd, cast it into the Lap of his Roaster; with another set the House on Fire, broach'd
on the Spit the Turkish Lord who design'd to de|vour him, and at last got away, though pur|sued
by a great number of Dogs, who smelt his leacherous half roasted Flesh; and he threw the
Beacon, with which he had been larded, a|mong them.

'Tis observable, that there he exclaims a|gainst the Turks about their abstaining from Wine,
which perhaps may refer to the Church of Rome's denying the Cup in the Eucharist to the Laity,
at which particularly Montluc was offended. To lard a Man is a Meta|phor often us'd by the
French, to signifie, to accuse and reproach, and so he was even before he had his Bishoprick;
throwing a Fire-brand with his Mouth on the Turn-spit's Lap, may be the hot words which he
used to clear himself, and with which he charged his Adversaries; and his spitting and burning
the Turkish Lord, may perhaps mean the advantage which he had over them. [Note: Book 3. Ch.
7. ] The Specta|cles, which afterward he wore on his Cap, liv may signify the Caution which he
was always oblig'd to take to avoid a surprise, [Note: Lapuce a'l oreille ] and his having a Flea
in his Ear, in French signifies the same. His forbearing to wear any lon|ger his Magnificent
 24

Codpiece, and clothing himself in four, French Ells of a course brown Russet Cloth, shows that
as he was a Monk, he could not weare a Codpiece as was the fashon in those Days, for the Lai|ty;
or perhaps it denotes his affecting to imitate the simplicity of Garb, which was observable in
Calvinist Preachers.

This Subaltern Hero of the Farce, now found to be the Bishop of Valence by the Circumstances
and Qualifications already dis|covered, that cannot properly belong to any other, may help us to
know not only Pantagruel, to whom he had devoted him|self, but also Gargantua and
Grangousier the Father and grand-Father of Pantagruel.

History assures us, that Montluc Bishop of Valence ow'd his advancement to Margue|rite
Devalois, Queen of Navarre and Sister to King Francis the I. She took him out of a Monastery
where he was no more than a Iacobin Fryar, and sent him to Rome, whereby he was raised to the
Rank of an Embassador, which was the first step to his Advancement.

Thus Pantagruel should be Anthony de Bourbon Duke of Vendosme, King Henry the lv IV.'s
Father, and Lewis the XIV's great grand-Father. He was married to Ieanne de Albret the only
Daughter of the said Queen Margaret, and of Henry d' Albret King of Navarre. Thus he became
their Son, and King of Navarre after the Death of the said Henry d' Albret whom I take to be
Gargan|tua: consequently his Father Iohn d' Albret King of Navarre, excommunicated by Pope
Iulius the III. and depriv'd of the best part of his Kingdom by Ferdinand King of of Arragon,
should be Grangousier.

The Verses before the third Book discover, that Pantagruel is Anthony d' Bourbon, afterwards
King of Navarre. The Author dedicates it to the Soul of the deceas'd Queen of Navarre,
Margaret Devalois, who dy'd in Britany in the Year 1549. She had openly professed the
Protestant Religion; and in 1534 her Ministers, of whom the most famous were Girard Rufly
(since Bishop of Oleron in Navarre) Couraud and Berthaud, [Note: Hist. de Iean Crespin. ]
preach'd publickly at Paris by her direction, upon which a fierce Per|secution ensued. Her
Learning, and the A|greableness of her Temper were so extra|ordinary as well as her Vertue, that
she was sti[...]d, The Tenth Muse and the fourth Grace, she has written several Books:
Particularly, one of Poetry called Marguerite des Marguerites, and another in Prose called lvi the
Hexameron or Les Nouuelles No[...]elles: Of which Novels some might in this Age seem too free
to be penned by a Lady, but yet the reputation of her Vertue has always been very great, which
shows that tho in that Age both Sexes were less re|served in their writings than we are gene|rally
in this, they were not more remiss in their Actions. Among many Epitaphs, She was honour'd
with that which follow[...].

Quae fui exemplum coelestis nobile form[...],

In quam tot laudes, tot co[...]ere bona,
Margareta sub hoc tegitur Valesia saxo.
I, nunc at{que} mori numina posse nega?
 25

I thought fit to premise this concerning that Princess, that the following Verses might be better
understood.

Francois Rabelais. A l' Esprit de la Reine de Navarre.

ESprit abstrait, ravy, & ecstatie,

Qui frequentant les cieux ton origine,
As delaissé ton hoste & domestic,
Ton corps concords, qui tant se morigine
A tes edits, en vie peregrine,
Sans Sentiment, et comme en apathie·
Voudrois point faire quelque sortie
lvi De ton manoir divin, perpetuel,
Et ca-bas voir vne tierce partie
Des faits joyeux du bon Pantagruel.

Francis Rabelais, To the Soul of the Queen of Navarre.

ABstracted Spirit, rapt with Extasies,

Soul, now familiar in thy native Skies;
Who did'st thy flight from thy weak Mansion sake,
And thy kind Mate, thy other self, forsake;
Who by thy Rules himself so wisely guides,
And here, as in a foreign World, resides,
From sence of its fantastic Pleasures free,
Since thou his Soul art fled, in Apathy!
Wouldst thou not leave a while the heav'nly plain,
And our World with thy Presence grace again,
To see this Book, where a third Part I tell,
Of the rare Deeds of good Pantagruel.

This Corps concords, this conjugate Body, that grows so conformable to that Queen's Rules and
leads the Life of a Traveller who only de|sires to arrive at his Journey's end, being as it were in
Apathy: What should it be but Henry d' Albret, who had surviv'd that Queen, his Consort, and
could love nothing after her in this World? Endeavouring at the same time to wea[...] himself
from its Vanities, lviij to aspire to a better according to that wise Princess's pious. Admonitions;
nor can the good Pantagruel be any other than Anthony de Bourbon, whom we have already
named.
 26

To this Proof I add another, which admits of no Reply; it is, That the Language which
Pantagruel owns to be that of Vtopia and his Country, is the same, that is spoken in the
Provinces of Bearn and Gascony; the first of which was yet enjoy'd by the King of Navarre:
Panurge having spoke to him in that Language; [Note: Book 2. Chap. 9. ] Me|thinks I
understand him, said Panta|gruel; for either it is the Language of my Country of Utopia, or it
sounds very like it: Now those who are acquainted with the different Dialects of the French
Tongue, need but read to find, that Panurge had spoke in that of Gascony. Agonou dont oussys
vous des|daignez algarou, &c.

Besides, Gargantua, who is King of Vto|pia, is said to be born in a State near the Bibarois, by
which the Author perhaps does not only allude to bibere (drinking) but to Bigorre, a Province,
which was still possest by the King of Navarre, or at least to the Vivarez, which may be reckoned
among the Provinces that are not far distant from that of Foix, which also belonged to that King;
his Mother being Catherine de Foix. That in which Gargantua was born is Beusse, which though
it also alludes to drinking, yet by the lix transmutation of B into V (generally made by those
Nations as well as by many others) seems to be the ancient Name of Albret, viz. Vasat[...]. I
might add, That Grangousier is described as one that was well furnish'd with H[...]ms of
Bayonne, Sawsages of Bigorre· and Rouargue, [Note: Book 1. Chap. 3. ] &c. but none of
Bolonia; for he fear'd the Lombard B[...]osone (or poison'd Bit, the Pope being indeed his
Enemy.) We are told, that he could not endure the Spa|niards, and mention is made also by
Grangousier, [Note: Book 1. Ch. 8. ] of the Wine that grows, not, says he, in Britany, [Note:
Book 1. Ch. 13. ] but in this good Country of Verron, which seems to be Bearn. I might in|stance
more of this; but as I know how little we ought to rely upon likeness of Names to find out Places
and Colonies, I will only insist upon the word Vtopia, which is the name of Grangousier's
Kingdom, and by which the Author means Navarre, of which Gargantua was properly only
Titular King, the best part of that Kingdom with Pam|pelune, its capital City, being in the King
of Spain's Hands: So that State was, as it were, no more on Earth as to any benefit he en|joyed by
it; and 'tis what the Word Vtopia, from [...] and [...], signifies, viz. that is not found, or, a place not
to be found. We have therefore here four Actors in the Pan|tagruelian lx F[...]rce, three Kings of
Navarre and the Bishop of Valence bred up and rais'd in that House; we might add two
Person[...] mutae, Catherine de Foix Queen of Navarre matried to Iohn d' Albret, and she
therefore should be Gargam[...]ll[...], as Margaret de Valois mar|ried to his Son Henry King of
Navarre should be Badebec.

Picrochole is doubtless the King of Spain, who depriv'd Iohn d' Albret of that part of Navarre
which is on the side of the Pyrene[...] Mountains that is next to Spain. This ap|pears by the name
of Picrochole, and by the universal Monarchy, of which he thought himself secure.

The word Picrochole is made up of two, [...] bitter, and [...] choler, bile or gaul, to denote the
Temper of that King, who was nothing but Bitterness and Gaul. This doubly fits Charles the
Fifth, first with Rela|tion to Francis the First, against whom [...]he conceived an immortal hatred;
and to Henry d' Albret, whose Kingdom he possess'd and whom he lull'd with the hopes of a
Restitu|tition which he never design'd; which was one of the chief Causes of the War that was
kindled between that Emperor and Charles the Fifth, which lasted during both their Reigns.
Besides, Charles the Fifth was troubled from time to time with an over|flowing of Bile; so that
finding himself de|caying, and not likely to live much longer, lxi after he had raised the siege of
 27

Mets, as he had done that of Marseille before, being commonly as unfortunate as his Generals
were successful, he shut himself up in a [...], where that distemper was the chief Cause of his
Death. The hope of [...] Monarchy, with which that Empe|ror flatter'd himself was a Chimaera
that possess'd his mind till he resign'd his Crown, and which he seem'd to have as|sign'd with it,
to Philip the II· his Son and Successors.

This Frenzy, which in his Thirst of Empire possessed him wholly, [Note: Book 1. Ch. 33. ] is
very pleasantly ridicul'd by Rabelais. The Duke of Small Thrash, The Earl Swa[...]-Buckler, and
Captain [...] make Picrochole (in Rodomontados) con|quer Tall the Nations in the Universe. I
suppose that our Satyrist means by these three some Grandees of Spain· for, their King
Picrochole bids them be cover'd. After many imaginary Victories, they speak of erecting two
Pillars, to perpetuate his Memory, at the Streights of Gibraltar; by which he ridicules Charles
the V.'s Devise which was two Pillars with plus Vltra for the Moto: Then they make him go to
[...] and Algier, (which Charles the V. did) march to Rome and cause the Pope to dye for Fear,
whereat Picrochole is pleased, be|cause he will not then kiss his Pyantoufle, lxij and longs to be
at Loretto. Accordingly we know that in 1527 his Army had taken Rome by storm, plundered it
and its Churches, ravished the Nuns if any would be ravished, and having almost starved the
Pope, at last took him Prisoner, which Actions of a Catholic Kings Army, Sandoval a Spanish
Author, only terms opra non Santa. Then Picrochole fancying himself Master al|ready of so
many Nations, most royally gratifies those who so easily made him Con|quer them; to this he
gives Caramania, Suria to that, and Palestine to the third; till at last a wise old Officer speaks to
him much as Cyneas did to Pyrrhu[...], and with as little Success as that Philosopher.

As it was not our Author's Design to to give us a regular History of all that happened in his Time,
he did not tye himself up to Chronology, and sometimes joyn|ed Events which have but little
Relation to each other. Many times also the Cha|racters are double, as perhaps is that of
Pi|crochole. In the Menagiana lately published, which is a Collection of Sayings, Reparties and
Observations by the learned Menage, every one of them attested by Men of Leaning, and Credit,
we are told that Messieurs de Sainte Marthe have told him, that the Picrochole of Rabelais was
their Grand Father, who was a Physician at Fron[...]evaut. These M[...] de St. Marthe are the
worthy Sons of the famous Samarthanus, lxiij who gave so high a Character of Rabelais among
the most celebrated Men of France, and who themselves have honour'd his Letters with large
Notes, and shew'd all the Marks of the greatest respect for his Memory; so that I am apt to
believe that they would not fix such a Character on their Grand-father, had there not been some
Grounds for it. Much less would they have said this to Mon|sieur Menage, who doubtless
understood Ra|belais very well, since I find by the Catalogue of his Works in Manuscript, that he
has written a Book of Observations on Rabelais, which I wish were Printed; for they must
doubtless be very curious; no less ought to be expected from that learned Author of the O|rigines
de la Languo Francoise, and of the Ori|gini della Lingua Italiana, as also of the curi|ous
Observations on the Aminta of Tasso, not to speak of his Diogenes Laertius, and many others. As
he was most skill'd in Etymo|logies, and a Man of the greatest Reading and Memory in France,
he had doub[...]less made too many discoveries in our Author, to have believ'd what Messieurs
Sainte Marthe said to him, were, there not some Grounds for it. We may then suppose that
Rabelais had the wit so to describe pleasant incidents that past a|mong Men of Learning, or his
Neighbours in and near Chinon, as that at the same time, some great Acti[...], in Church or State
should be represented or satiriz'd; just as Monsieur lxiv De Benserade, in his Verses for the
 28

solemn Masks at the French Court has made his King, representing Iupiter, say what equally
might be said of that Heathen God, or of that Monarch.

Thus the Astrea of the Lord D'urfe, which has charm'd all the ingenious of both Sexes, and is still
the admiration of the most know|ing, meerly as a Romance, has been disco|ver'd long ago by
some few, to have through|out it a foundation of Truth. But as it only contains the private
Amours of some Per|sons of the first quality in that Kingdom, and even those of its noble
Author, he had so disguis'd the Truths which he describes, that few had the double pleasure of
seeing them reconcil'd to the ou[...]ward Ficti|ons; [Note: Oeuures De. d[...] Patru. V. 2. 1692. ]
till among the Works of the greatest Orator of his time, the late Monsieur Patru of the French
Academy, they had a Key to a part of that incomparable pasto|ral, which he says he had from its
Author: And none that have known Patru, or read his Works or Boileau's, will have any reason
to doubt of what he says. He tells us, that the Au|thor of Astrea to make his Truths more
agreeable, has interwove them, with mere ficti|ons, which yet are generally only the Veils that
hide some Truths, which might otherwise not so properly appear in such [...] Work; some|times
he gives as a part of the chief In|treague lxv of a Person, such Actions as that Person transacted at
another time, or on another occasion; and on the other side, he sometimes divides one History, so
that under different Names still he means but one Person; thus Diana and Astrea, Celadon and
Silvander are the same.

We ought not to forget that Barclay in his Argenis which is the history of France, in Henry the
IV. 's time, does the same; Polyarchus and Archombrotus being but one.

As in Astrea when two Lovers marry the Author only means, that they love each other; so when
in ours, Panurge de|sires to marry and consults about it, we may suppose him already married
and affraid of being prosecuted about it.

And if our Author has changed the Places and Order of Times, and set before what should go
after, and that last which should have been first, 'tis no more than what the judicious Patru
allows to his, as a thing, says he, that it always used in all those sorts of Works; and thus he
makes that last, but six Months which held out fifteen Years and with him Chartres in France,
and Malta are but one.

Rabelais, who had more reason to write mystically than any, may then be allowed equal
Freedom in his Allegories; and with|out fixing only the Character of Picrochole, on Charles the
V we may believe that it lxvi refers as well to his Predecessor, [...] King of Arragon, and of
Cas[...]ile my Queen Isabella his Wife; that deprived Iohn d' Albret of his kingdom of Navarre;
for that Spaniard was as bitter an Enemy, as cunning, and at least as fa[...]al to the house of
Navarre, as his Successor.

Iohn d' Albret was an open hearted, magni|ficent, generous Prince; but easie, and [...]ely|ing
wholly on hi[...] Ministers, being given to his Pleasures, which often consisted in going privately
to eat and drink with his Subjects, and inviting himself to their Houses; howe|ever he lov'd
Books, and was a great lover of Herald[...]y, nicely observing the Pedigrees, Coats and Badges of
Honour of Families, which perhaps makes Rabelais open his Scene· with refering us to the great
Pantagruelian Chronicle (by which he begins his second Book) for the knowledge of that
 29

Genealogy and Antiquity of Race, by which Gargantua is de|scended to us, how the Giants were
born in this World, and how from them by a direct Line issued Gargantua; then he bids us not
take it ill, if he for the present passes it by, though the Subject be such, that the oftner it were
remem|bred, the more it will please your Worships· by which he exposes that Prince's and some
Gentlemen's continual Application to a vain Search, into the dark and fabulous Times for
Pedigrees, as Rabelais says, from the Gyants· for many would be deriv'd from something greater
than Man. Then he makes his King[...] lxvij Gyants, because they are so in Power, and sometimes
what serves the whole Court and attendants is by him applyed wholly to the King· as Eating,
Cloathing, Strength. And then by that he ridicules the Romances of those days, where Giants are
always brought in, as well as Magicians, Witches, sin|gle Men routing whole Armies, and a
thousand other such fabulous Stories. He has also ri|dicul'd the variety of doubtful, though
ancient Originals, in the odd discovery of the Ma|nuscript; and in the 9. Chap. the distinction of
Colours and Liveries, which took up that Prince's time, due to higher Imployments, as worthily
as the rest of Heraldry. There he tells us, that Gargantua's Colours or Liveries were white and
blew, by which his Father would give to understand, that his Son was to him a Heaven|ly Ioy.
Thence with as much Fancy as Judgment, he takes an Opportunity to laugh at the lame and
punning Devises or Impreses of those Days, in which however, Paul Iove had already given
Rules to make better; yet after all, I believe that by Gargantua's Co|lours, Rabelais also alludes
to K. Henry d' Albret, and Marguerite his Queen, who were sincerely for a Reformation; so the
White may signifie Innocence, Candor and Sincerity, and the Blew, Piety or Heavenly Love.
Perhaps also as [Note: Epist. de Ra|belais. ] Godefroy d Estissac Bi|shop of Maillezais in his
Coat, gave paled Argent and Azur of lxviij six Pieces, he had a mind to celebrate the co|lours of
his Patron.

The account of Gargantua's youthful Age, Chap. 11. agrees very well with that which Historians
give us of the way of bringing up Henry IV. of France, [Note: Mezeray. Hardouinde Perefix.
hist. Henry IV. ] by his Grand-father, Henry d' Albret, who is the same with Gargantua That
great Mo|narch was in his tender age inur'd by that old Prince to all sorts of Hardships, for he
caus'd him to be kept in the Country, where he or|der'd they should let him run among the poor
Country Boys, which the young Prince did, sometimes without Shoos or Hat, being fed with the
coursest fare; so that having by those means contracted a good habit of Body, he was afterwards
so hardned to Fatigues, so Vigilant and active, and so easily pleased with the most homely Dier,
that it did not a little contribute to the advantage which he had over the League, whose Chief the
Duke de Mayenne was of a Disposition altogether different. Now, 'tis very probable that Henry d'
Albert was himself brought up much after the manner which he chose for his Grand-son; for we
read that he was not only an ingeni|ous and understanding Prince, generous and liberal even to
Magnificence, but also very warlike and hardy.

lxix The Education of Gargantua, by the So|phisters is a Satyr on those Men, [Note: Ch. 21.
Book 1 ] and the tedious Methods of the Schools, shewing the little improvement that was made
in Henry d' Albret's Studies, as long as he was under Popish Governors, and the ill Life that the
young Gentlemen of the Roman Church led; as on the contrary, the benefit of having good
Tutors, and the difference between the Romans and the Protestants, [Note: Ch. 33. Book 1. ]
carefully and pi|ously educated at the Dawn of the Reforma|tion; for there is no doubt, that tho
Henry d' Albret did not dare to profess it, the Peo|ple in Navarre, being all Papists, and there
being obstacles enough to the recovery of that Kingdom, lost by his Father, without raising more,
 30

yet he heartily hated the Popish Prin|ciples, and the King of Arragon and Castille, who merely on
the pretence of Iohn d' Al|bret's alliance with Lewis XII. at the time of his Excommunication, had
seiz'd his Country and held it by the Pope's Gift; so we find that the Reformers no sooner
preach'd against Bulls and Indulgences, the taking away the Cup in the Eucharist, and
Transubstantia|tion, but that Marguerite, the Wife of K. Hen|ry d' Albret, and Sister to Francis
the first, own'd her self to be one of the new Opinion, and as powerfully defended its Professors
as she could. Any one may see by the two Chapters of lxx Gargantua's Education by
Ponocrates, that the Author treats of a Protestant Prince, and of Gargantua's being brought to a
reform'd state of Life; for he says, that when Ponocrates knew Gargantua's vicious manner of
living, he resolv'd to bring him up in a much different way, and requested a learned Physitian of
that Time, call'd Master Theodorus, seriously to perpend how to bring him to a better course; he
says, that the said Physitian purg'd him canonically, with Anticyrian Hellebore, by which
Medicine, he clear'd all that foulness and perverse habit of his Brain, and by this means
Ponocrates made him forget all that he had learn'd under his ancient Preceptors. Theodorus is a
very proper Name for a Divine, signifying Gift of God, from [...] and [...], and that great Master of
Thought, Father Malebranche, gives it to the Divine who is one of the Interlocutors in the
admirable Metaphysical Dialogues, which he calls Conversations Chrestiennes; so that as
Rabelais tells us, Theodorus was a Physitian for the mind, that is, one of the new Preachers, and
perhaps Berthaud, that of Queen Margue|rite.

By the Anticyrian Hellebore, with which he purged Gargantua's Brain, [Note: [...] potestas, apud
Suidam. ] may be meant powerful Arguments drawn from Reason, and the Scripture oppos'd to
the Authority of the Popish Church; after this Purge we find Gargantua awak'd at four in the
Mor|ning, lxxi and while they were rubbing him, some Chapter of the holy Scripture aloud and
clearly with a Pronunciation fit for the matter read to him, and according to the purpose and
argu|ment of that Lesson, oftentimes giving himself to Worship, Adore, Pray and send up his
Supplica|tions to that good God, whose Word did shew his Majesty and marvellous Iudgment.
That Chap|ter and the next are admirable, as well as many more, nor can we ever have a more
perfect Idea of the Education of a Prince, than is that of his Gargantua, whom he repre|sents all
along as a Man of great Honour, Sense, Courage and Piety; whereas under his other Masters, in
the Chapters before, we find him idle, and playing at all sorts of Games. Nothing can better
demonstrate the great Ge|nius and Prudence of our Author who could submit to get together so
many odd Names, of trifling things, to keep himself out of Danger, and grace the Counterpart
which is so judicious and so grave; he had told us first, that Gargantua under his former
Peda|gogues, after a good Breakfast went to Church, a huge greasie Breviary being car|ryed
before him in a great Basket; that there he heard 26 or 30 Masses; that this while came his Martin
Mumbler (Chaplain) muffled about the Chin (that is with his Cow) round as a Hoop, and his
Breath pretty well antidoted with the Vine-Tree-Syrop, that with him he mumbled all his lxxij
Kyriels, and as he went from the Church, santring along through the Cloysters, ridled more of St.
Claude's Patinotres, then sixteen Hermits could have done. So that there we find him a Papist,
and in the following Chapter, as I have said a Protestant.

Without doubt, the Sophisters under whom Gargantua did not improve were some noted Men in
his Age, [Note: Chap. 14. Book 1. ] I have not yet discovered who they were.
 31

As for Don Philip of Marais Viceroy of Papeligosse, who advises Gran|gousier to put his Son
un|der another Discipline, [Note: Ch. 15. Book 1. ] he may perhaps be Philip, Son to the
Marschall of Navarre; the Title of Don being taken by the Navarrois, and Marais seems
Marechall.

Gargantua is sent with Ponocrates to Paris by his Father, that they might know, [Note: Ch. 15.
and 16. ] says he, what was the study of the young Men in France; this shows that Gangousier
was not King of it, and that Gargantua was a Stranger there.

Many who take him to be Francis the First, think that his huge great Mare is Ma|dam
d'Estampes, that King's Mistress, and explain that Mare's skirmishing with her Tail, whereby she
overthrew all the Wood in the Country of Beauce, by a Gift which they say, he made her of some
of its Forests. lxxiij They say also, That the King was desirous to buy her a Necklace of Pearls;
and that partly on that account he would have got some Money of the Citizens of Paris; but they
being unwilling to comply with his demand, the King and his Mistress threat|ned to sell the Bells
of our Lady's Church (the Cathedral) to buy his Lady a Necklace: And that this has given
occasion to say, [Note: Chap. 17. Book 1. ] That Gargantua design'd to hang those Bells at his
Mare's Neck.

Though, as I have said, Gargantua be not Francis the First, I might believe that Rabe|lais had a
mind to make us merry with the recital of such an Adventure, were it not certain that the said
King has read his Book, and would hardly have liked such a Pas|sage, had he been himself an
Actor there; but, besides, History relates nothing of this Nature of him; nor has the Story of the
Bells the resemblance of Truth.

As for the blow with the Mare's Tail, it might as well belong to Henry d' Albret, who has not
been without a Mistress. Had I been able to get some certain Books, and had the Bookseller not
been impatient, by reason of the Term, I would have done my Endea|vours to unriddle that
Enigma; but having hardly a Fortnights time, to make my Obser|vations, and finish the Author's
Life and this Preface, I must put off that Inquiry till some lxxiv other Opportunity, and then what
further Discoveries I may make, may be published with those on the fourth and fifth Books,
which contain Pantagruel's Voyage to the holy Bottle, as beautiful at least as these three.

I will however, offer here a Conjecture on that story of the Bells; we find in the 17, 18 and 19th.
Chapters of the first Book, that Master Ianotus de Bragmardo a Sophister is sent to Gargantua to
recover the Bells, and makes a wretched Speech to him about it; I am sensible that 'twas partly
his Design to ridicule the Universities, which at that time deserv'd no better in France. But in
particular, I believe that he aim'd at Ce|nalis, a Doctor of Sorbonne, and afterwards Bishop of
Auranches, for I find that this Pre|late had writ a Treatise won|derfully pleasant, [Note: Hist. de
Iean Crespin. ] concerning the Signs, whereby the true Church may be distinguish'd from the
false; in it he waves the preaching of the Gospel, and Ad|ministration of the Sacraments, and
pretends to prove that Bells are the signs which essen|tially distinguish the Church of Rome from
the Reform'd, who at that time had none, and us'd to assemble privately at the letting off of a
Musquet in the High Street, which was a sign by which they knew that it was time to meet to
perform Divine Service. Ce|nalis on this, triumphs, as if he had gain'd his Point, and runs on in a
long Antithesis, lxxv to prove that Bells are the signs of the true Church, and Guns the mark of
 32

the bad; all Bells, says he, sound; but all Guns thunder, all Bells have a melodious Sound, all
Guns make a dreadful Noise; Bells open Heaven, Guns open Hell; Bells drive away Clouds and
Thunder, Guns raise Clouds, and mock the Thunder. He has a great deal more such Stuff, to
prove that the Church of Rome is the true Church, because forsooth, it has Bells, which the other
had not.

The taking away the Bells of a Place, implys its Conquest, and even Towns that have Articled
are oblig'd to redeem their Bells; perhaps the taking away the great Bells at Paris, was the taking
away the Privileges of its University, or some other; for Paris may only be nam'd for a Blind.
Thus the Ma|ster Beggar of the Fryars of St. Anthony, com|ing for some Hog's Purtenance (St.
Antho|ny's Hog is always pictur'd with a Bell at its Neck) who to be heard afar off, and to make
the Beacon shake in the very Chimneys, had a mind to filch and carry those Bells away privi|ly
but was hindered by their weight; that Ma|ster Beggar, I say, must be the head of some Monks,
perhaps of that Order in the Faux|bourg St. Antoine, who would have been sub|stituted to those
that had been deprived, and the Petition of Master Ianotus is the par|don which the University
begs, perhaps for some affront resented by the Prince; for those lxxvi that escap'd the Flood,
cry'd we are wash'd Par ris, that is, for having laugh'd. Rabelais, en passant, there severely
inveighs against the grumblers and factious Spirits at Paris: Which makes me think that whether
the Scene lies there or elsewhere as in Gascoigny, some people of which Country were Henry d'
Al|bret's Subjects, still this was a remarkable E|vent. In the Prologue to the fourth Book, Iupiter
busied about the Affairs of Mankind, crys, Here are the Gascons Cursing, Damning and
Renouncing, demanding the re-establish|ment of their Bells; I suppose that more is meant than
Bells, or he would not have us'd the word, Re-establishment.

But 'tis time to speak of the great strife and debate raised betwixt the Cake-bakers of Lerné,
[Note: Chap. 25. Book 1. ] and those of Gargantua's Country; whereupon were wag'd great
Wars. We may easily apply many things concerning these Wars to those of Navarre, between the
House of d'Albret, and King Ferdinand and Charles the fifth. Thus Les Truans, or as this
Translation renders it, the Inhabitants of Lerné, who, by the command of Picrochole their King,
invaded and plunder'd Vtopia, Gargantua's Country, are the Spanish Soldiers, and Lerné is
Spain. The word Truand in old French, signi|fies an idle lazy Fellow, which hits pretty well the
Spaniards Character, the Author having made choice of that name of a place near lxxvii Chinon,
because it alludes to the Lake Lerna, where Hercules destroyed the Lernaean Hydra, which did
so much hurt in the Country of Ar|gos, that thence came the Proverb, [...], Malorum Lerna. Thus
Spain was a Lerna of Ills, to all Europe, while, like France now, it aspir'd to universal
Monarchy, but it was so more particularly to Navarre in Iuly 1512, when King Iohn d' Albret and
Queen Catharine de Foix the lawful Sovereign were dispossess'd by Ferdinand King of
Arragon, almost with|out any resistance. The said King Iohn, desi|rous of Peace, sent Don
Alphonso Carillo, Con|stable of Navarre, in the quality of his Em|bassador to Ferdinand, to
pre|vent the approaching mischief; [Note: Hist. de Na|var. par C. Se|cretaire & In|terpret. du
Roy. ] but he was so ill receiv'd, says the History of Navarre, Dedicated to King Henry IV. and
printed with his Privilege, that he was glad to return to his King with speed, and related to him
that there was no hope left to persuade the King of Arragon to a Peace, and that Lewis de
Beaumont, Earl of Lerins, who had forsaken Navarre, daily in|courag'd Ferdinand to attack that
Kingdom. So that this Embassie resembles much that of Vlric Gallet to Picrochole who swears
by St. Iames, the Saint of the Spaniards. In November 1512. Francis Duke of Angoulesme,
 33

afterwards King, was sent with King Iohn d' Albret, by Lewis XII. to recover Navarre, having
with lxxviij him several of the greatest Lords in France, and a great Army, which possess'd it
self of many Places, but the rigour of the Sea|son oblig'd them to raise the Siege of Pam|pelune.
And in 1521. another Army under the Command of Andrew de Foix, Lord of As|perault, enter'd
Navarre, and wholly regain'd it, [Note: Memoires de Mar|tin du Bellay. ] but it was lost again
soon after by the imprudence of that Gene|ral, and the Avarice of St. Colombe, one of his chief
Officers.

Those that will narrowly examin Histo|ry, will find that many particulars of the Wars in the first
Book of Rabelais, may be reconcil'd to those of Navarre; but I believe that he means something
more than a De|scription of the Fights among the Soldiers, by the debate rais'd betwixt the Cake-
sellers or Fouassiers of Lerné, and the Shepherds of Gar|gantua. Those Shepherds or Pastors,
should be the Lutheran and Calvinist Ministers, whom Iohn and Henry d' Albert favour'd, being
the more dispos'd to adhere to the reviving Gospel which they preach'd, by the provoking
Re|membrance of the Pope's and King of Spain's injurious usage; and for that Reason, Queen
Margarite did not only profess the Protestant Religion, but after the Death of Henry d' Al|bert,
Queen Iane their Daughter, Married to Anthony de Bourbon, was a Zealous Defender of it till she
dy'd, and her Son Henry, after|wards lxxix rais'd to the Throne of France, pub|lickly own'd
himself a Protestant, till his im|patient desire of being peaceably seated on it, made him leave the
better Party to pacifie the worse.

The Cake sellers of Lerné are the Priests, and other Ecclesiastics of Spain; as also all the
Missificators of the Church of Rome. Ra|belais calls them Cake-mongers, or Fouassiers, by
reason of the Host, or Sacramental Wa|fer, which is made of Dough, between a pair of Irons, like
the Cakes or Fouasses in Poitou, where Rabelais liv'd, and is said to be transubstantiated into the
Corpus-Christi, when consecrated by the Priest.

The Subject of the Debate, as Rabelais terms it, between those Cake-sellers and the Shepherds is
the first's refusal to supply the latter with Cakes, to eat with the Grapes which they watch'd. For
as Rabelais observes, 'Tis a Celestial Food, to eat for Break-fast, fresh Cakes with Grapes, by
which he alludes to the way of receiving the Communion among the Protestants, who generally
take that Ce|lestial Food fasting, and always with the juice of the Grape, that is, with Wine,
according to the Evangelical Institution. Now the Cake-mongers or Popish Priests would not
consent to give Cakes, that is to say, Bread, but would only give the accidents of the Cakes, or to
speak in their own Phrase, the accidents of the Bread, and it is well known that this was lxxx the
chief occasion of our separation from the Church of Rome.

Upon the reasonable request of the Shep|herds, the Cake-sellers, instead of granting it, presently
fall to railing and reviling, adding, after a whole Litany of comical, though defamatory Epithetes,
that course unraung'd Bread, or some of the great brown Houshold Loaf was good enough for
such Shepherds, meaning that the gross Notions of Transub|stantiation ought [...]o satisfie the
Vulgar. The Shepherds reply modestly enough, and say that the others us'd formerly to let them
have Cakes, by which must be understood, the times that preceded the Doctrin of
Tran|substantion. Then Marquet one of the Cake-Merchants treacherously invites Forgier to
come to him for Cakes, but instead of them, only gives him a swindging Lash with his Whip,
 34

over-thwart the Legs, whereupon he is rewarded by the other with a broken Pate, and falls down
from his Mare, more like a dead then like a living Man, wholly unfit to strike another blow.

These two Combatants are the Contro|verstists of both parties; the Papist immedi|ately begins to
rail and abuse his Adversary. The Lutheran confounds him in his replys, and for a blow with a
Whip treacherously given, very fairly disables his Enemy.

lxxxi This is the Judgment that Rabelais, a Man of Wit and Learning impartially passes on the
Writers of both Parties. If any would seek a greater Mystery in that Grand Debate as Rabelais
calls it, which term I believe he would hardly have used for a real Fight, let them imagin that he
there describes the Conference at Reinburgh, where Melancthon, Bucer and Pistorius debated of
Religion a|gainst Eccius, Iulius Pflug and Iohn Gropper, and handled them much as Forgier did
Mar|quet.

But this Exploit of Forgier being incon|siderable, if compared to those of Fryar Ihon des
Entomeures, or of the Funnels, as some cor|ruptly call him, we should endeavour to dis|cover
who is that brave Monk that makes such rare Work with those that took away the Grapes of the
Vineyard. By the pre|tended Key which I think fit to give you after this, since it will hardly make
up a Page; we are told, that our Fryar Ihon is the Cardinal of Lorraine, Brother to the Duke of
Guise; but that Conjecture is cer|tainly groundless; for though the Princes of his House were
generally very brave, yet that Cardinal never affected to show his Courage in martial
Atchievements, and was never seen to girt himself for War, or to fight for the Cause which he
most espoused; besides, had he been to have fought, it would have been for Picrochole. It would
lxxxij be more reasonable to believe that Fryar Ihon is Odet de Coligny Cardinal de Chastillon,
Arch|bishop of Tholouse, Bishop and Earl of Beauuais, Abbot of St. Benign, of Dijon, of Fleury,
of Ferrieres and of Vaux de Cernay: For, that Prelate was a Man of Courage, no ways infe|rior to
his Younger Brothers, the Admiral and the Lord d' Andelot. Besides, he was an Enemy to Spain
and a Friend to Navarre; [Note: Vide Thuan. Sa|marthan. Ciacon. Du Bouchet. d' Aubigné, lib. 4.
Sponde in annal. Hist. Eccles. Beza. Petrameller. ] then he was a Protestant, and helped his
Brothers, doing great Service to those of his Party; and was married to Elizabeth de Hauteville,
Dame de Thoré, a Lady of great Quality. Pope Pius IV. in a private Con|sistory deprived him, for
adhering to his Bro|thers, but he neither valued the Pope nor his Censures; he died in England in
1571, and lies interr'd in Canterbury Cathedral, having been made a Cardinal by Clement VII. at
his and Francis I.'s Interview at Marseilles in 1533. I own that what he did for the Protestant
Cause was chiefly after the Death of Rabe|lais, and that some have represented him as a Man
wholly given to his Ease; but Rabe|lais, whose best Friend he was, knew his In|clinations, even
when he composed this Work, which made him dedicate the Fourth part of it to him: And 'tis
chiefly to that brave Cardinal that we are obliged for that lxxxiij Book, and the last of this
mysterious History; [Note: Lib. 4. Epist. Dedicat. ] since without the King's Protecti|on, which
he obtained for Rabelais, he had resolved to write no more, as I have already observed. And for
his being addicted to his Pleasures, that exactly answers the Name of his Abbey of Theleme, of
which those that are Members do what they please, according to their only Rule, Do what thou
wilt, and to the Name of the Abbey, [...], Volontas. Perhaps Rabelais had also a regard to [...],
which often signifies a Nuptial Chamber, to shew that our valiant Monk was married; thus the
Description of the Abbey shows us a model of a Society free from all the Tyes of others, yet
more honest by the innate Ver|tues of its Members; therefore its Inscription excludes all Monks
 35

and Fryars, inviting in all those that expound the holy Gospel faith|fully, though others murmur
against them. Indeed I must confess, that he makes his Fryar swear very much, but this was to
ex|pose that Vice which, as well as many o|thers, reigned among Ecclesiastics· in his Age.
Besides, the Cardinal had been a Souldier, and the Men of that Profession were doubtless not
more reserv'd then, than they are now. I will give an instance of it that falls naturally into this
Subject, and is the more proper, being of one who was also lxxxiv a Cardinal, a Bishop, a Lord,
an Abbot, Married, a Soldier, a Friend to the House of Navarre, engaged in its Wars, and who
perhaps may come in for his share of Friar Ihon. I speak this of Caesar Borgia, the Son of Pope
Alex|ander VI. who having made his escape out of Prison at Medina del Campo, came in 1506 to
his Brother in Law Iohn d' Albret, King of Navarre. Being Bishop of Pampeluna its Capital, he
resign'd it, as well as his Car|dinal's Cap and other Benefices, to lead a Military Life; and, after
many Engage|ments in other Countries, was killed, [Note: Hist. de Na|varre. ] being with King
Iohn at the Siege of the Castle of Viane, which held for Lewis de Beaumont Earl of Lerins,
Constable of Na|varre, who had rebelled against King Iohn. That Earl having thrown a Convoy
into the Castle, Caesar Borgia who desir'd to fight him at the Head of his Men, cryed, Où est, où
est ce C[...]mtereau? Ie jure Dieu, qu'aujourd'huy [...]e le feray mourir ou le prendray prisonier:
Ie ne cesseray [...]usques á ce qu'il soit entierement destruit, & ne pardonneray ny sauveray la
vie à aucun des siens: Tout passera par l' epeé jusques aux chiens & aux chats. That is; Where
is, where is this petty Earl? By G--- I will this day kill or take him: I will not rest till I have
wholly destroyed him: Nor will I spare one Creature that is his; all, to the very Dogs and Cats,
shall die by the Sword. It cannot be supposed that lxxxv Rabelais drew his Friar Ihon by this
Man, but 'tis not unlikely that he had a mind to bring him in, by giving some of his
Quali|fications to his Monk; for there is no doubt that our Author made his Characters double as
much as he could, as it were, stowing three, and perhaps· five, in the place of one for want of
Room; not altogether like an Actor who plays three different Parts in the same Piece, nor like
Scaramouch, who acts various Parts in the same Clothes, but like that Pantomime in Lucian, who
represented several Things at once; and was said to have five different Souls in one Body. Thus,
if Picrochole, besides the Characters of King Ferdinand of Arragon, and of Charles the Fifth,
includes that of Dr. de St. Marthe of Fronte|vaut, as his Grand Sons said to Menagius, Brother
Ihon may also be some Monk of the Abbey where Rabelais had lived.

I presume to say more, though, as all that I have said already, I humbly offer it as bare and
uncertain Conjectures; why may we not suppose that our Author has a mind to give us, after his
manner, a Sketch of the great Luther? He was also a Monk, and a jolly one too; being· as
Rabelais says, A Clerk even to the Teeth in matter of Bre|viary. The Vineyard, and consequently
the Wine which is saved, is the Cup in the Communion, which, through his means, when taken
away by the Popish Priests, was lxxxvi in spight of Charles the Emperor, also King of Spain, and
his Soldiers, restored to the Protestants in Germany. The Prior, who calls Friar Ihon drunken
Fellow, for troubling the divine Service, may be the Pope and the su|perior Clergy.

Then Friar Ihon throwing off his great Monk's Habit, and laying hold on the Staff of the Cross, is
Luther's leaving his Mona|stery, to rely on Christian Weapons, the Merit of his Redeemer. The
Victory ob|tained against those that disorderly ravag'd the Vineyard and took away the Grapes, is
his baffling the Arguments of his Opposers; and their being out of Order, means the Ignorance of
the Papists. The little Mon|kitos that profer their help to Friar Ihon, and who leaving their outer-
Habits and Costs upon the Rails, made an end of those whom he had already crushed, are those
 36

Monks and other of the Clergy, much inferior to Lu|ther, who followed his Reformation, and
wrote against those whom he had in a man|ner wholly confuted.

'Tis known, That at the Council of Trent the Germans thirsted very much after the Wine in the
Eucharist, and that they were as eager for the abolishing of the Cannons that enjoyn'd Celibacy to
the Cler|gy, as for the Restitution of the Cup to the Laity. They used to have the Words of of our
Saviour, Bibite ex hoc omnes, mark|ed lxxxvij in golden Characters in all their Bi|bles, and made
Songs and Lampoons on the Robbers of the Cup, as they called them. They had also a design to
have Cups in all their Standards and Ensigns of War, and the Picture of the Cup in all the
Churches of their Communion, as the Hussites of Bo|hemia had done, which occasion'd this
Di|stic by a Poet of the Roman Church.

Tot pingit Calices Bohemorum terra per urbes,

Vt credas Bacchi numina sola coli.

Indeed, what is said of Friar Ihon, Chap. 41, 42 and 43. may induce us to believe, that the Man
who has the greatest share in the Character of the Monk did not absolute|ly cast off his Frock, but
far from it, we see that the Friar kept it on to preserve himself from his Enemies, and desired no
other Ar|mour for Back and Breast, and after Gargan|tua's Followers had armed him Cap-a-pié
against his Will, his Armour was the cause of an unlucky Accident, which made him call for
help, and swear that he was be|trayed, while he remain'd hang'd by the Ears on a Tree. So he
afterwards threw a|way his Armour, and took to him the Staft of the Cross; holding himself
invulnerable with his Monkish Habit. Accordingly when Captain Drawforth is sent by
Picrochole with 1600 Horsemen thoroughly besprinkled lxxxviij with holy water, and who to be
distinguish|ed from their Enemies, wore a Stole instead of a Scarf (for so it should have been in
the 43. Chapter, and not Star as it is there printed) we find that Fryar Ihon having frighted them
all away, Draw-forth only excepted, that bold Enemy, with his utmost strength could not make
his Lance pierce our Monk's Frock, and was soon knock'd down by him with the staff of the
Cross; and found out to be a Priest by his Stole.

This confirms what has been said, that, all this War is chiefly a dispute of Religion; and this part
of it seems to relate to Car|dinal Chastillon, because he was secure within his Ecclesiastical
habit; the Authour some|times, as I have said, joyning several Cha|racters together. Thus the
Monk's discourse at Table is not only applicable to that Car|dinal but also to Montluc Bishop of
Valence, who makes his first appearance on our Do|ctor's stage, in the second act by the name of
Panurge; for Fryar Ihon being desired to pull off his Frock; Let me alone with it, re|plyes he, I'l
drink the better while it is on, It makes all my Body Iocund, did I lay it aside, I should lose my
appetite: So, Many in those days, as well as in these, lov'd the Benefice more then they hated the
Religion. Some will say that the request made then to Fryar Ihon was only, that he should ease
himself of his monastic Frock while he was at Ta|ble, lxxxix but Rabelais would not have made
his Monk refuse such a request; he knew that some of the Princes of the Clergy had in his time,
at the French Court, and in the King's Presence taken a greater liberty; for there had been a Ball
in Lewis the XII's Reign, where two Cardinals danc'd before him, among the rest; and in another
given him by Ioanne-Iacomo Trivulse, several Prin|ces and great Lords had danc'd in Fryar's
 37

habit. The Monk talks with a great deal of Freedom at Gargantua's Table, and swears that he
kept open house at Paris for six Months; then he talks of a Fryar that is become a hard Students
then says that for his part he studies not at all, justifying himself for this conduct in false Latin;
after this he abruptly starts a new matter, and lets his Fancy run after hares, hawks and hounds,
and thus he goes on by sallies, and admi|rably humours the way of talking of the young Courts
Abbots in France. Now pro|bably the Cardinal who did not set up for a Man of Learning, being
of great Quality, allowed himself Liberty accor|dingly, making hunting one of his Recreations;
[Note: B. 1. Ch. 40. ] and indeed what Gargantua says concern|ing Fryar-Ihon, in the next
Chapter, hits Cardinal Chastillon's Character exactly: There having taxed most Monks with
mumbling out great store of Legends and Psalms, which xc they understand not at all, and
interlarding many Paternotres, with ten times as many Ave-maries without thinking upon or
appre|hending the meaning of what they say, which he calls mocking of God and not Prayers; he
says, that all true Christians in all places, and at all times send up their Prayers to God, and the
Spirit prayeth and intercedes for them and God is gracious to them: Now such a one, adds he, is
our Fryar-Jhon, he is no Bigot &c.

What Grangousier says to the French Pil|grims, shows that he also was no Biggot, and was not
King of France; when speak|ing of some superstitious Preachers, one of whom had called him
Heretic, he adds, I wonder that your King should suffer them in their Sermons to publish such
Scandalous Do|ctrin in his Dominions. Then Fryar-Ihon, says to the Pilgrims, that while they
thus are upon their Pilgrimage, the Monks will have a Fling at their Wives. After that,
Grangousier bids them not be so ready to undertake those idle and unprofitable journyes, but go
home and live as St. Paul directs them, and then God will guard them from Evils which they
think to avoid by Pilgrimages.

What has been observed, puts it beyond all doubt, that our jesting Author was in|deed in Earnest
when he said, that he mystical|ly treated of the most high Sacraments, and dreadful secrets, in
what concerns our Religion, xci I know, that immediately after this, he passes off with a Banter
what he had assur'd very seriously; but this was an admirable peice of Prudence; and who ever
will narrowly examin his writings will find, that this Ver|tue is inseparably joyned with his wit,
so that his Enemies never could have any ad|vantage over him.

But not to comment upon several other Places in his first Book, that the ingenious may have the
pleasure of unriddling the rest of it themselves, I will only add, that his manner of ending it is a
Master peice surpassing, the artful evasion, which as I have now observed, is in its Introduction.

It is an Enigma, as indeed is the whole Work, I could only have wished that it had been proper to
have put it into a more modish Dress (for then doubtless it would have more generally have
pleased) But I suppose that the Gentleman who revised this Translation thought it not fit to give
the Graces of our Modern Enigmas to the Translation of a prophetical Riddle in the style of
Merlin. Gargantua piously fetches a very deep sigh, when he has heard it read, and says, that he
perceives by it, that it is not now only, that People called to the Faith of the Gospel, are
persecuted; but happy is the Man that shall not be scandalized, but shall always continue to the
end, in aiming at the Mark, which xcij God by his dear Son has set before us &c. Upon this the
Monk asks him, what he thought was signified by the Riddle? What? says Gargantua, the
Decrease and Propagation of the Divine Truth; That is not my Expositi|on, says the Monk, it is
 38

the style of the Prophet Merlin; make as many grave Al|legories, and Tropes as you will; I can
conceive no other meaning in it, but a des|cription of a Set at Tennis in dark and ob|scure Terms.
By this Riddle which he ex|pounds he cunningly seems to insinuate that all the rest of his Book,
which he has not explained, wholly consists of trifles; and what is most remarkable, is that he
illustrates the Truths which he had con|cealed by the very Passage where|with he pretends to
make them pass for Fables, and thus blinds with too much light, those Enemies of Truth, who
would not have failed to have burned him alive, in that persecuting Age, had he had less Wit and
Prudence than they shewed Ignorance and Malice.

I need not enlarge much on the other Books by reason of the Discoveries made in the first that
relate to them. The first Chapter of the second, gives us Pantagruel's Pedigree from the Giants: It
has been ob|served by a Learned Man some Years ago, that the word Giant, which the
In|terpreters of the Scripture have set in xciij their Versions, stands there for another that means
no more then Prince in the Hebrew; so perhaps our Author was the more ready to make his
Princes Giants; tho as I have said, his chief design was tacitly to cen|sure in this Iohn d' Albret,
and such others as (like one in Britany, that took for his Motto, Antequam Abraham esset sum)
were too proud of an uncertain empty Name. His description of the Original of Giants, and the
story of Hurtali's bestriding the Ark, is to mock those in the Thalmud and other Legends of the
Rabbins; for he tells us, that when this happened the Calends were found in the Greek Almanacs,
and all know that ad Graecas Calendas, is as much as to say, Never; for the Greeks never
reckoned by Calends. Yet, what he tells us of the Earth's Fertility in Medlars, after it had been
em|brued with the Blood of the Just, may be Allegorical: And those who, by feeding on that fair
large delicious Fruit, became Monstrous, may be the converts of that Age, who by the Popish
World were looked upon as Monsters. The Blood of Martyrs, which was profusedly spilt in that
Age, has always been thought Prolific even to a Pro|verb, and the word Mesles in French and
Medlars in English, equally import Medling; thus in French, Il se Mesle de nos affaires, he
medles with our Busi|ness; so the Medlars may be those who xciv busied themselves most about
the Re|formation.

The Great Drought at the Birth of Panta|gruel, is that almost universal cry of the Lay|ty, for the
Restitution of the Cup in the Sa|crament, at the time that Anthony de Bourbon Duke of
Vandosme, was married to the Heiress of Navarre, which was in Octob. 1548, the Council of
Trent then sitting. For, thence we must date his Birth, since by that match he afterwards gain'd
the Title of King, be|sides Bearn, Bigorre, Albret, and several other Territories; and we are told,
Book 3. Chap. 48. that Pantagruel at the very first Minute of his Birth, was no less tall than the
Herb Pantagruelion (which unquestionably is Hemp) and a little before that, 'tis said that its
height is commonly of five or six foot. The Death of Queen Margarite his Mother in Law, that
soon follow'd, made our Author say, that when Pantagruel was born, Gargantua was much
perplexed, seeing his Wife Dead, at which he made many Lamentations. Perhaps this also
alludes to the Birth of King Edward the Sixth, which caus'd the Death of his Mo|ther, Queen
Iane Seymour. King Henry the Eighth is said to have comforted himself, with saying that he
could get another Wife, but was not sure to get another Son: Thus, here we find Gargantua much
griev'd, and joy|ful by fits, like Talboy in the Play, but at last comforting himself with the
thoughts of his xcv Wife's Happiness, and his own, in having a Son, and saying that he must now
cast about how to get another Wife, and will stay at home and rock his Son.
 39

In the sixth Chapter, we find Pantagruel dis|coursing with a Limosin, who affected to speak in
learned Phrase. Rabelais had in the forego|ing Chapter, satiris'd many Persons, and gi|ven a hint
of some abuses in the Universities of France; in this he mocks some of the Writers of that Age,
who to appear learned, wholly fill'd their Works with Latin Words, to which they gave a French
Inflection. But this Pedantic Iargon was more particularly af|fected by one Helisaine of Limoges,
who as Boileau, says of Ronsard, en Francois parlant, Greek et Latin (speaking Greek and Latin
in French) thought to have refin'd his Mo|ther Tongue: So Rabelais, to prevent the spreading of
that Contagion, has not only brought that Limousin Author on his Pantagru|elian Stage, but
wrote a Letter in Verse, all in that Style, in the name of the Limousin Scholar, printed at the end
of the Pantagrue|lian Prognostication. Pasquier, who liv'd at that time, has made the like
Observation on that Chapter, when in his second Book of Letters, p. 53. he says,---pour
l'ornement de nostre langue, et nous aider mesmes du Grec et du Latin, non pour les escorcher
ineptement comme fit sur nostre jeune age, Helisaine, dont nostre gentil Rabelais s'est mocqué
fort a propos en la xcvi personne de l'escolier Limosin qu'il introduct parlan[...] a Pantagruel en
un language escorche Latin.

The 7th. Chapter wherein he gives a Ca|talogue of the Books in St. Victor's Library is admirable,
and would require a large Com|ment, it being a Satyr against many Writers and great Affairs in
that Age, as well as against those who either make Collections of bad Books, or seek no others in
Libraries; but I have not leasure to read over a great number of Books, that ought to be consulted
for such a Task.

The Cause which was pleaded before Pan|tagruel by the Lords Suck-fizle and Kiss-Breech,
[Note: Book 2. Chap. 10, 11, 13, 14. ] seems to be a Mock of the famous Tryal, concerning two
Dutchies, four Counties, two Vi-counties, and many Baronies and Lordships, to which Loyse de
Savoye, the Mother of Francis the first, laid Claim Charles de Bourbon Constable of France,
was possest of them, but because he had refus'd to marry her, she made use of some Titles, which
she had to them, to per|plex him, and though she could not even with the King her Son's Favour,
cast the Constable, yet they were sequestred into the King's Hands, and the final determination
put off. Pasquier in his Recherches, observes, that when Guillaume Poyet, afterwards
Chancellor, and Francois de Monthelon, afterwards Lord-Keeper, then the two most famous
Coun|cellors xcvij of the Age, pleaded the Cause; the first for Plantiff, the other for Defendant:
They armed themselves with a pedantic Iuris prudence borrowed from a parcel of Italian School
Boys, whom some call Doctors at Laws, true Hatchers of Law Suits; (such was the Rhetoric of
that Time) and as it is easie to stray in a thick Wood, so, with a confused heap of various
Quotations, instead of explaining the Cause, they perplexed it, and filled it with darkness. Upon
this, by the united Voice of the People, the Name of the Plantiff was owned to contain the Truth
of the Case; that is, Loyse de Savoye· Loy se des|avoye, The Law goes astray; which is per|haps
the happiest Anagram tha[...] e[...]er was, fot 'tis made without changing the Order of the Letters,
and only by dividing the Words otherwise than they are in the Name.

The 18, 19 and 20th Chapters treat of a great Scholar of England, who came to argue by Signs
with Pantagruel, and was over|come by Panurge. I do not well know on whom to fix the
Character of Thaumast that Scholar, whose Name may not only signi|fie an Admirer, an
admirable Person, or one of those School-men, who follow the Doctrin of Thomas Aquinas, in
opposition to that of Scotus: And I find as little Reason to think, that any would have come to
 40

con|fer with Anthony de Bourbon, of Geomancy, Philosophy and the Cabalistic Art. Indeed, Sir
Thomas Moore, went Ambassador to Francis xcviij the First, and Erasmus, who lived some time
in England, also came to Paris; but I can|not think, that either may pass for the Thau|mast of
Rabelais. Perhaps he hath made him an English Man, merely on purpose to disguise the Story;
and I would have had some thoughts of Henricus Cornelius Agrippa, who came to France and
died there; but I will prove, when I examin the Third Book, that he has brought him on the Stage
by the Name of Her-trippa. So 'tis not im|possible but that he may have meant Hiero|nimus
Cardan of Milan, who flourish'd in that Age, and was another dark Cabalistic Au|thor. The first
has said, Occult. Philos. l. 1. c. 6. That he knew how to communicate his Thoughts by the
species of Sight in a magical Way, as Pythagoras was said to do, by writing any thing in the
Body of the Moon, so as it should be legible to another at a vast distance; and he pretends to tell
us the method of it in his Book, De vanitate Scientiarum. Cardan also has writ concerning
private Ways of imparting our Thoughts, Sub|[...]ilit. l. 17. and De Variet. Rerum, lib. 12. but
these ways of signifying our Thoughts by Ge|stures, called by the Learned Bishop Wilkins
Se|maeology, are almost of infinite Variety, ac|cording as the several Fancies of Men shall
impose Significations upon such Signs as are capable of sufficient difference. And the Venerable
Bede has made a Book only of xcix that, commonly stiled Arthrologia, or Dacty|lologia; which
he calls, Lib. de loquelâ per gestum digitorum, sive de indigitatione: So that perhaps our Author
made his Thaumast an English Man, not to reflect on Beda, but because that Learned Father is
the most An|cient and Famous Author that has written a Book on that Subject.

I have Read of a public Debate much like that of Thaumast and Panurge, and as probable, said to
have been held at Geneva. The Agressor lifted up his Arm and closed three of his Fingers and his
Thumb, and pointed with the remaining Finger at his Oppo|nent; who immediately pointed at
him again with two. Then the other shewed him two Fingers and one Thumb; whereupon his
Antagonist shook his closed Fist at him. Upon this the Aggressor showed him an Apple; and the
other looking into his Pocket found a bit of Bread, and in a scornful way let him see it; which
made him that began the Dispute yield himself vanquished. Now when the Conqueror was
desired to relate what their Signs signified; He with whom I disputed, said he, threatned first to
put out one of my Eyes, and I gave him to under|stand, that I would put out both his: Then he
threatned to tear both mine, and take off my Nose; upon which I shewed him my Fist, to let him
know, that I would knock him down: And as he perceived that c I was angry, he offered me an
Apple to pa|cifie me as they do Children; but I showed him, that I scorn'd his Present, and that I
had Bread, which was fitter for a Man.

After all, Montluc, who is our Panurge, may have had some Dispute about the Signs of the true
Religion, or the two Sacraments of the Protestants, and the seven of the Romans, they being
properly called Signs, and such a thing not being recorded by Historians, like many others that
relate to this Work, it may not be possible to discover it.

The Dipsodes that had besieged the City of the Amaurots, [Note: Book 2. Chap. 23. ] are the
Flemings and other Subjects of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, that made Inroads into Picardy,
and the adjacent Territories, of which Anthony of Bourbon was not only Governor, but had
considerable Lordships in those Parts. The Flemings have always been brisk Topers; and for this
Reason are call'd Dipsodes, from [...] Sitio, [...] Thirsty; and he calls Picardy and Ar|tois the Land
of the Amaurots, from the word [...] obscurus or evanidus; perhaps because they are in the North
 41

of France; or that part of them were in the hands of the Enemy. Te|rouenne may well be called
now [...], as that word is taken for being vanish'd and oblitera|ted: For, Charles the Fifth utterly
destroyed it. Sandoval tells us, That the Spaniards took it by Escalada, that is, having scaled the
ci Walls, and that they flew over them like the swiftest and most tow'ring Birds; yet as he says,
that they went up with Ladders, this must be reckon'd a very odd way of flying.

In 1543, which was some Years before that fine City was ruin'd, [Note: Mem. de Guil. du Bellay.
] Anthony de Bour|bon Duke of Vendosme hearing that it was ill stored with Provisions,
assembled his Army, and with Francis of Lorrain Duke of Aumale, the Duke of Guise's Eldest
Son, the Duke de Nevers, Marshal du Biez and several other Lords, marched to its Relief with
good Success; having in spight of the Enemy supplied the Place with all manner of Necessaries.

In the mean time, several of the Lords and other Officers in his Camp used to Skir|mish; and
once particularly having long tried to draw the Flemings out, these at last engaged them; they
were much more Nu|merous, yet the French got the Better, and cut off a great Number of their
Ene|mies: This perhaps may be the Victory which the Gentlemen Attendants of Pantagruel
obtain'd over Six hundred and threescore Horsemen, Chap. 25. And a Trophy was raised, Chap.
27. for a Memorial of those Gentlemens Victory.

cij The next Exploit is that in the 29th. Chapter, where we find how Pantagruel dis|comfited the
Three hundred Giants armed with Free-stone, and Loupgarou their Cap|tain. The Death of
Loupgarou in the pre|sence of his Giants, may relate to the taking of Liliers, a Town between
Bapaume and Aire: It molested very much the Country that belonged to the French, and was
seated near a Marsh; yet notwithstanding the Ad|vantage of the Season, and its resolute
Gar|rison, the Duke of Vendosme having caused a large Breach to be made, and being ready to
storm the Place, the Besieged desired to Capitulate, and after many Parlies surren|dred the Town
on dishonourable Terms.

By Accident the Ammunitions of the Besie|gers had taken Fire, and even some of the Car|riages
of the Artillery were burn'd; which may perhaps have made our Author say in the foregoing
Chapter, that Carpalin having set on Fire the Enemy's Ammunition, the flame having reached
the Place where was their Artillery, he was in great danger of being burn'd; or perhaps, this
alludes to the Duke of Vendosme's setting Liliers on fire and destroying it quite, after he had
taken it. For our Author writes not like an Historian but like a Poet, who ought not to be blam'd
for Anachronisms; nor have the best Critics censur'd Virgil for that about Dido and Ene[...],
between the Time of whose Lives whole ciij Ages are reckoned by Chronologists. How|ever 'tis
certain, that the Relief of Terouenne, and then the Surrender of Liliers were An|thony de
Bourbon's two first Exploits; the one soon after the other; then the Three hun|dred Giants arm'd
with Free-stone, which Pantagruel struck down like a Mason, by breaking their stony Armour,
mowing them down with the dead Body of Loupgarou, are a great number of Castles about
Liliers, Te|rouenne, Saint Omer, Aire and Bethune, which Anthony of Bourbon demolish'd
immediately after he had taken Liliers, and then passed through Terouenne, which is the City of
the Amaurots which he went to relieve; by whose Inhabitants Pantagruel is so nobly received in
the 31th. we may also suppose, that by King Anarchus, Rabelais means the plundering lawless
Boors that shelter'd themselves in those Castles, who were afterwards reduced to sell Herbs. This
is, Anarchus's being reduc'd to cry green Sawce in a Canvas Iacket.
 42

The Duke of Vendosme marched next, without any resistance, through the Upper Artois, took
Bapaume in his Way, which is doubtless the Almyrods, called so from [...] Salsuginosus, or salted
People, [Note: Book 2. Ch. 32. ] who resolved to hold out against Pantagruel; yet only to have
honourable Conditions. It seems to me, that this is meant of the Castle of that Town which held
out against the civ Duke only for Terms, all the Inhabitants of the Town being retired into that
small place, where there was but one Well, whose Water had been altogether Exhausted in two
Days (to which, perhaps, relates the Salt which Pantagruel put into the Mouths of his Enemies)
and they were ready to submit to Mercy, [Note: Memoires de Guil. du Bellay. Liv. 10. ] with
Halters at their Necks; but the King, who had already sent ma|tny Expresses to the Duke,
ordering him to march to join him with all speed, and nei|[...]her to Stop at Bapaume or any
where else, sent him angrily fresh Orders, wherein he charged him of his Allegiance, to join him
that Day at Chasteau in Cambrezis on pain of incurring his Displeasure. So the Duke, to the
great Joy of the Besieged and his greater Sorrow, raised his Camp, and came to the King. Neither
does our Author speak of the Surrender of the Almyrods; but makes Pantagruel's Forces be
overtaken with a great shower of Rain, and then tells us how Pantagruel covered a whole Army
with his Tongue: For they began, says he, to shiver and tremble, to croud, press and thrust close
to one another; which when he saw, he bid his Captains tell them, that it was nothing; however,
that they should put themselves into Order, and he would cover them; and he drew out his
Tongue cv only half way, and covered them all. I find that the Duke, before he took Liliers and
besieged the Castle of Bapaume, sent to the King to desire him to send a Months Pay to his
Forces, and then he could take some Frontier Towns, and even Bapaume; but the King sent him
no Money, and, on the contrary, ordered him to march on to meet him; but before he had that
Answer, he had taken Liliers. So his Soldiers, who wanted their Pay and Clothes, being also
vex'd for having, by the King's Fault, missed taking the Booty in the Castle of Bapaume, were
displeased and in bad Cir|cumstances; but upon this the Duke spoke to the King, and got them
their Arrears and Clothes: And this is what Rabelais calls covering an Army with his Tongue. As
for what follows, it seems an imitation of Lucian's Whale in his true History, as the News which
Epistemon brings from Hell in the 30th Chapter is also a Copy of that Author; and what ours says
he saw in Pantagruel's Mouth, is only to blind the rest; which seems to me so plain, like most of
the Discoveries I here publish, that I won|der that none ever gave an Account of any of them in
the space of above One hundred and Forty Years.

The Sickness of Pantagruel Chapter 33. is his disgust upon this disappointment at cvi Bapaume;
or some real sickness that seiz'd him.

There the Author concludes his second Book, that was published sometime after the First, which
we may perceive by what he tells us of the Monks, and their bigotted Cullies, who had already
try'd to find something in it that might render him ob|noxious to the Law; which caused him to be
somewhat more reserved in matters of Religion in that and the following, than he was afterwards
in the fourth and fifth. Yet we find a Prayer in the twenty ninth Chapter which shews that his
Panta|gruel, Anthony de Bourbon, was for the Pro|testant Religion, but did not openly profess it.
Accordingly, Historians grant that he was a Calvinist, even long before Rabelais dyed: And tho
for his Interest (as he thought,) he afterwards sided with the French-Court against the Protestant
Party, yet af|ter he had been mortally wounded at the Siege of Roan, [Note: Beza Hist. Eccles. ]
he complained of being deceiv|ed; and ordered one of his Ser|vants who was a Protestant to bring
a Minister to him, but the other not being able to do it in those persecuting Times, he
 43

com|manded him to pray by him after the manner of the Reformed Church, which the other did
to that unfortunate King's cvij satisfaction; Cardinal de Bourbon his Brother being then present.

Panurge is the chief actor in the third act of our Pantagruelian Play; we find him there much
perplexed with uncertainties; his mind fluctuating between the desire of en|tring into a
matrimonial Engagement and the fear of having occasion to repent it. To be eased of his doubt,
he consults several Persons, all famous for some particular skill in removing Anxieties of mind;
and there our Learned and Ingenious Satyrist displays his knowledge and his fancy to
admiration, as has been observed by the Learned Van Dale in the passage which I have given
you out of his Book de Oraculis, after the Account of our Author's Life.

But before that, we find Pantagruel in the first Chapter transporting a Colony of Vto|pians into
Dipsodie; for which Rabelais gives a very good Reason and proves himself a Master at Politics
as well as at other Things. To explain that passage, we must know, that the Duke of Vendosme
garrison'd out of Picrady some of the Places that had been taken in Artois, fixing also there some
of his Vassals and Tenants, who were very numerous there abouts; and as he was born among
them viz. at La Fere in 1518· he had a particular love for them.

In the second Chapter Panurge is made Laird of salmygondin in Dipsodie, and wasteth cviij his
Revenue before it comes in: I can apply this to nothing but the gift of some Benefice to Montluc
by the Duke of Vendosme or the Queen of Navarre, afterwards his Mo|ther in Law; which
Benefice not being sufficient to supply him in his Extravagances, something more considerable
was bestowed on him; which having set him at Ease gave him occasion to reflect on his former
ill conduct and grow more thrifty: So that afterwards he entertained some thoughts of Marriage
and probably was married, when Rabelais wrote.

Among those whom Panurge consults, the Sybil of Panzoust is the first whose right name is
difficult to be discovered. The pretended Key in the French makes her a Court Lady; but its
Author seems never to have read Rabelais, or at least not to have understood him, if we may
judge of it by the Names which he, in spight of Reason, has set against some of those in our
Author. Among four or five short Explanations of as many Passages in Rabelais, also printed in
the French, one of them tells us, that by the Sybil of Panzoust, our Author means a Gentlewoman
of that Place, near Chinon, who dy'd very old, and always lived single tho importuned by her
Friends to marry when she was young. But Rabelais having in this Book very artfully made his
Panurge consult Men of different Professions famous cix in his Time, to be eased of his doubt, I
do not beleive that he would have begun by a Woman altogether unknown to the learned World:
Yet not, but that he may have made choice of the Name of Panzoust to double the Character, if
he knew that such an Antiquated She-thing, liv'd there. I have indeavoured to discover who
might be that Sybill, but dare not positively fix that Character on any. St. Therese, a Spa|nish
Nun, who liv'd in that Age, might come in for a share, she has writ several Books, and was
already famous when Rabelais liv'd, she had very odd notions, and discover'd perhaps as much
madness as sanctity. I find another noted crack'd-brain Bigotte, who was old at that Time and
liv'd at Venice: Tis one whom several great Men have men|tioned by the name of Virgo Venetas.
Guillaume Postel, amongst the rest, a very learned Jesuit and very famous in that Age for
Philosophy, calls her Mother Ioane, and had such a veneration for her, that he thought the
Re|paration of the Female Sex, not yet perfect|ed, and that such a glorious Work was reserved for
 44

her; but Florimond de Raymond excuses him in this, and says, that he only designed to praise
her, for the great services which she had done him in his Travels. There is another, for whom I
would certain|ly believe the Sybil's Character made, were cx I sure that our Author and she were
Con|temporaries: Her name is Magdelen de la Croix she was a Nun, and had so well gained the
reputation of being a Saint, that she was consulted as a Sybil by the greatest Kings and Princes in
Europe; but at last she proved a Sorceress and was burn'd. If I am not mistaken Dr. Henry More
has made mention of her; and I have read her History among several others in a Book called
Histoires Tragiques. But as I am forc'd to quote those Books by memory, like many others which
I cannot conveniently procure, I must refer the Reader to them for fur|ther satisfaction.

In the one and twentieth Chapter Panurge consulteth with Raminagrobis an old French Poet,
who was almost upon the very last mo|ment of his Life. This Poet was William Cret|in Treasurer
of the King's Chappel, who had liv'd under Charles the VIII. Lewis the XII. and Francis the I. as
may be seen by his Works. Never was Man more celebrated by the Writers of his Age. Iohn le
Maire dedicated to him his three Books of the Il|lustrations of France, and speaks of him as of
the Man to whom he owed all things Geoffroy Toré in his Champ fleury says, that Cretin in his
Chronicles of France had out|done Homer and Virgil. And even Maro[...] cxi inscribed to him his
Epigrams. Here are the four first verses of Marot to him.

L' homme Sotart et non Scavant,

Comme un Rotisseur qui lave oye,
La Faute d' autruy nonce avant
Qu'il la cognoisse, ou qui'l la voye: &c.

All their Beauty (if they can be said to have any) consists in their Rich or rather punning Rhimes;
and truly that Epigram is unworthy of Marot: Tis probable that as Cretin was then old he was
respected by the young Fry, who yet outliv'd their Er|ror; for never did Man sooner lose after his
Death, the Fame which he had gained during his Life: And the Reason which caused Marot to
write to him in such equi|vocal Rhimes, was doubtless, because Cretin affected much that way of
Writing. Here are four of Cretin's Lines which in his Book are follow'd by 122 more such.

Par ces vins verds Atropos a trop os

Des corps humains ruez envers en vers,
Dont un quidam aspre aux pots apropos
A fort blasmé ses tours pervers par vers. &c.

I never saw more Rhime with so little sence. For this Reason, Rabelais who (as Pas|quier says)
had more Iudgment and Learning than all those that wrote French in his time, cxij has exposed
that riming old Man: And to leave us no room to doubt of it, the Ron|deau which Raminagrobis
gives to Panurge upon his irresolution as to his marriage, Pre|nez la ne la prenez pas &c. that is,
Take, or not take her, off or on, &c. is taken out of Cretin, who had addrest it to Guillau|me de
Refuge who had ask'd his advice, be|ing in the same perplexity. However Rabelais makes him
 45

dye like a good Pro|testant, and afterwards turns off cunningly what the other had said against the
Popish Clergy, who would not let him dye in Peace; and to shew more plainly that this is said of
Cretin, Rabelais says at the begin|ning of the four and twentieth Chapter Lais|sans là Villaumere,
that is, having left Villaumere, which relates to William, that Poet's name.

I ought not to omit a Remark printed in the last Dutch Edition of this Book concerning what
Panurge says of Cretin. He is by the Vertue of an Ox, an arrant Heretic; a thorough-pac'd
rivitted Heretick, I say, a rooted Combustible Heretick, one as fit to burn, as the little wooden
Clock at Ro|chel, his Soul goeth to thirty thousand Cart-full of De|vils. Rabelais there reflects on
the Sentence of Death passed on one of the First that owned himself a Protestant at Rochell. He
was a Watch-maker, and had made a Clock all of Wood, which was esteemed an admirable
Piece; but because it was the Work of one condemn'd for Heresy, the Judges order'd by the said
sen|tence cxiii that the Clock should be burned by the common hangman, and it was burned
accordingly; we must also observe that the adjective Clavelé that is, full of Nails or Rivitted, is
brought in because that Watch-maker who was very famous for his Zeal, was named Clavelé.

In the 24th. Chapter Panurge consults Epistemon, who perhaps may be Guillaume Ruffy, Bishop
of Oleron, one of Queen Mar|garite's Ministers, who had been sometime in Prison for preaching
the Reformation, and was afterwards made Bishop in the King of Navarre's Territories, having
without doubt dissembled like many others. Thus his de|scent into Hell, in the second Book, may
be his Prison: I own, that he is with Pantagruel in the Wars, but so is Panurge, and this is done
to disguise the Characters; I am the more apt to believe him a Clergy Man, because he
understands Hebrew very well, which few a|mong the Layty do, and none else, in our Author,
besides Panurge, who calls him his dear Gossip; then his Name denotes him to be a thinking,
considering Man, and as he was Pantagruel's Pedagogue, so probably Ruffy initiated or
instructed the Duke, in the Doctrine of the new Preachers.

Enguerrant, whom Rabelais taxes with ma|king a tedious and impertinent Digression a|bout a
Spaniard, is Enguerrant de Monstrelet, who wrote La Chronique & Annales de France.

cxiv In the same Chapter he speaks of the four Ogygian Islands near the Haven of Sammalo; by
this he seems to mean Iersey, Gernsey, Sark, and Alderney. As Queen Margaret liv'd a while,
and dy'd in Britanny, our Actors may be thought sometimes to stroul thither. Ca|lypso was said
to live at the Island Ogygia; Lu|cian amongst the rest places her there, and Plutarch mentions it
in the Book of the Face that appears in the Circle of the Moon.

Her-Trippa, is undoubtedly Henricus Corne|lius Agrippa burlesqued. Her is Henricus or

Herricus, or perhaps alludes to Heer, because he was a German, and Agrippa is turn'd into
Trippa, to play upon the word Tripe. But for a farther Proof, we need but look into A|grippa's
Book, de Occult. Philosoph. Lib. 1. Cap. 7. de quatuor elementorum, Divinationibus, and we
shall find the very words us'd by Ra|belais of Pyromancy, Aeromancy, Hydromancy, &c.
Besides, Agrippa came to Francis the First, whom our Author calls the great King to distin|guish
him from that of Navarre.

Fryar Iohn des Entosmures, or, of the Funnels, as he is called in this Translation, advises
Panurge to marry, and whether by that brave Monk we understand Cardinal Chastillon or Martin
 46

Lu|ther, the Character is kept, since both were Married; neither was the latter wholly free from
Fryar Iohn's swearing Faculty, if it be true that being once reproved about it, he re|plyed,
condonate mihi hoc qui fui monachus. En|tomeures cxv has doubtless been mistaken for
Enton|noir, a Funnel, but the true Etymology, is from [...] to cut and make inci|sions, which was
our Monk's delight, who is described as a mighty Trencher-man.

In the following Chapters, a Theologian Physitian, Lawyer and Philosopher are consul|ted.

Hippothadeus, the Theologian, may perhaps be Philip Shwartzerd, alias Melancthon; for he
speaks too much like a Protestant to be the King's Confessor, neither could Montluc be supposed
to desire his Advice.

Rondibilis the Physitian is doubtless Guliel|mus Rondeletius. Thuanus remarks, in the thir|ty
eighth Book of his History, that Will. Rondelet of Montpellier, died 1566, and that though he was
a learned Physitian, Rabelais had satiris'd him; he adds, that indeed the Works of Rondelet, do
not answer the Ex|pectation, which the World had of him, nor the Reputation which he had
gain'd; and his Treatise of Fishes, which is the best that bears his Name, was chiefly the Work of
Will. Pelissier, Bishop of Montpelier, who was cast into Prison for being a Protestant. How|ever,
Rabelais makes him display much Lear|ning in his Discourse to Panurge.

I am not so certain of the Man whom Trouil|logan personates, he calls him an Ephectic and
Pyrrhonian Philosopher. I find that Petrus Ra|mus, or De la Ramée, afterwards Massacred cxvi
at Paris, had written a Book against Aristotle, and we have also his Logic; but as he is mentioned
by Iupiter in the Prologue to the fourth Book, by the name of Rameau, where his dispute with
Petrus Galandius, and his be|ing nam'd Peter are also mentioned, I am in doubt about it. Moliere
has imitated the Scene between Trouillogan and Panurge, in one of his Plays, and Mr. Dela
Fontaine, the story of Hans Carvell, and that of the Devil of Pope-feague-land, in his inimitable
Contes and Nouvelles.

There was a Iack-pudding in France in that Age, call'd Triboulet, but I believe that the Fool,
whom our Author describes in the 38. Chapter, is one more considerable, though less famous. I
cannot guess why he has heap'd up so many Adjectives on that Fool, unless it be to show the
excess of his Folly, and to mock some of the Authors of that Age, who often bestow'd a large
train of such un|necessary Attendants, on a single Noun Sub|stantive.

Marotte is a word very much us'd by the French, signifying a Fools Bauble or Club, and the
word [...]ou, given by Rabelais to Tri|boulet implys a mad, crack'd-brain'd, or in|considerate
Man, and also a Jester; the word Idiot, being more us'd in French, for what we properly call a
Fool: Now Clement Marot, the best Poet in the Reign of Francis the First, whose Valet-de
Chambre he was Styled, was a cxvi notable Iester, and is said to have played many merry Tricks
that relished somewhat of Extravagance: Besides, many among the Vulgar, mistaking the
Enthusiasm of Poets for Madness, have but a small Opinion of the Wisdom of most of them. But
these Considerations do not seem to me strong enough to make me believe that Rabelais would
have passed so severe a Censure on that Poet, who was then but lately dead, an Exile for his
Religion, and had made ho|nourable mention of him in his Works, they being undoubtedly
intimate Friends.
 47

Judge Bridlegoose, who decided Causes by the Chance of Dice; and was Arraigned for
Prevarication at the Bar of the Parlia|ment of Mirelingois, resembles much a Judge of
Montmartre, who they say could neither Write nor Read, yet had been a Judge many Years, and
being once called into Question in a superior Court, owned his Ignorance as to the Point of
Writing and Reading, but affirmed that he knew the Law; and desiring that the Cause of which
an Appeal had been made from his Juris|diction might be examined, he was found to have done
Justice, and his Sentence and Authority were confirmed. Rabelais takes Notice of such a Story,
as is that of his Bridlegoose, vulgarly reported of the Provost of Montlehery: But though he may
allude to it, and to that of the Bayliff of Montmartre, cxviij which perhaps may be the same, I
believe that his Bridlegoose is a Man of greater Con|sequence. Considering the strong
Interces|sion made for him by Pantagruel, and the others whom he shows on his Stage, he may
be Guillaume Poyet, who by the favour of Loyse de Savoye, the King's Mother, his Client, had
been made Lord Chancellor of France, and in 1545, being convinced of several Abuses and
Prevarications, was deprived of his Office.

I have said before, that the Herb Panta|gruelion is Hemp; Rabelais makes Pantagruel load a
great quantity of it on Board his Ships, and indeed it is one of the most useful things in the
World, not only at Sea, but also at Land. The curious and pleasing Description of that Plant,
makes up the rest of this Third Book.

HAD not the following Translation of the three first Books of Rabelais been ready to be
publish'd, before I was desired to give an Account of them and of his Life, I might have printed
my Observations at the End of each Chapter, and have given a more exact Commentary.
However I hope that I have said enough to shew, that what ap|pears trivial and foolish in that
Work, is generally Grave and of Moment, when se|riously examin'd. Yet as I dare not offer my
Conjectures as certainties, principally cxix on a Book which has been so universally read and
admired, and never till now at|tempted to be explained, I humbly submit all I have said to the
Judgment of the Lear|ned; to whom I will esteem my self much obliged, if they will be pleased
either to let me know wherein I have erred, or com|municate to me their Remarks on this Work,
which may be printed with the two remaining Books, with their Names, if they please, and a
thankful Acknowledgment of the Favour.

Having first done my Endeavour to satisfie the Reader concerning the Meaning of that
mysterious History, I hope to be now the more patiently suffered to give some Account of the
Nature of the Fable, the Style and the Design of it.

MANKIND is naturally addicted to the Love of Fables. Long before Learning had been brought
into Greece and Italy, the Egyptians, Persians, Arabians and other Eastern Nations, to Enhance
the value of Truths, which they did not think fit to be prostituted to the Vulgar, hid them under
the Veils of Allegories and Apologues; [Note: Quia sciunt in|imicam esse na|turae apertam
nudamque expositionem sui; quae, sicut vulgaribus hominum sensibus intellectum sui vario
rerum teg|mine operimento{que} substraxit, ita à prudentibus ar cana sua voluit per fabulosa
tractari. Macrob. In somn. Scip. Lib. 1. ] cxx they also used sometimes to lay aside the Study
and Speculation of high mysteries to divert themselves with framing Stories which had nothing
of Truth in them, and no other design than most of our Romances. Also in the Decay of
Learning, which followed that of the Roman Empire for want of true History and solid
 48

Knowledg, Men fed their Minds with gross Fictions, such as are the Legends of Monks, and the
old sorts of Ro|mances. Thus two opposite ways, barren Ignorance and Luxuriant Learning
leading Men often the same End, that is the study of Fables, their Number is as great as their
Original is Ancient.

Herodotus says, That the Greeks had from Aegypt their Mythologic Theology. Homer brought
from thence that Inclination to Fables, which made him invent many things about the Original
and Employments of his Gods; and Pythagoras and Plato learned also there to disguise their
Philosophy.

Thus our Author calls his Writings Pytha|gorical Symbols in the Prologue to his first Book; and
not without Reason, since as I have made it appear, the chief part of them is mysteriously writ.
But what those Ancient Philosophers did thro a Reverence of Na|ture, ours did thro Necessity;
being forc'd cxxi to keep such a Medium as that he might be understood by all Readers in most
parts of his Book, yet by few Persons in others, and might secure himself from the attacks of his
Enemies by the Ambiguity of his Sence.

Lucian tells us, that Fables were so much in vogue in Assyria and Arabia that there were persons
whose only Profession i[...] was to explain them to the People; and Erpenius assures that all the
World together never produc'd so many Poets as the Latter. As for Persia, Strabo says that
Teachers there us'd to give to their Disciples Precepts of Morality wrapt up in Fictions. The
Gymno|sophists of India are said, by Diogenes Lae[...]tius, to have delivered their Philosophy in
Enig|mas. So that the learned Huetius thinks, that when Horace said, Fabulosus Hydaspes, 'twas
chiefly because its Spring is in Persia, and its Mouth in India, Countries through which it flows,
whose Inhabitants were Lovers of Fables: And indeed it was from the Persians, as that Prelate
observes, that those of Miletum in Ionia learned first to frame those amorous Fictions which were
afterwards famous through Greece and Italy, by the name of Milesian Fables, which with
Mil|lions more of such insignificant voluminous Lyes are lost and forgotten, as well as their
Authors; the name of the best of whom call'd [...]ristides, hardly survives his Writings. He cxxii
liv'd doubtless before Marius and Syllas's Wars; for Sisenna, a Roman Historian, had Latiniz'd
his Fables, which were very obscene, yet long the delight of the Romans. Photius in his
Bibliotheque, has given an extract of a fabulous Story composed by Antonius Diogenes, whom
he thinks to have liv'd sometime af|ter Alexander: It treats in Prose of the Loves of Dinias and
Dercyllis, in imitation of Homer's Odysseis, and relates many incredible Adventures; its Author
also makes mention of one Antiphanes who before had written in that Nature, and who perhaps,
may be a Comic Poet, whom the Geographer Stepha|nus says to have writ some such Rela|tions.

These are thought to have been the mo|dells of what Lucius, Lucian, Iamblichus, Achilles, Tatius
and Damascius have written in that kind, not to speak of Heliodorus, Bishop of Tricca, who
under Arcadius and Honorius, wrote the Adventures of Theagenes and Cha|riclea, some
passages of which have been copied by Guarini, and the Author of Astrea.

Our Britains about that time have not been behind hand with other Nations in writing such
Books. Theleisin, whom Some place a|mong the Bards, because he made some Pro|pheci[...]s in
Verse, liv'd about the middle of the sixth Century, and as well as Melkin wrote fabulous Histories
in Welsh, of Britain, King Arthur, Merlin, and the Knights of the cxxiij round Table. Those of
 49

Ieoffrey of Monmouth, have not much more the appearance of Truth; and as much may be said of
what Gildas a Welsh Monk writ of King Arthur, Per|ceval and Lancelot.

The French sometime after, had also their famous Romance of the He|roic Deeds of Charles the
Great, and his Paladins, [Note: Huet Orig. des Romans. ] said to be the Work of Turpin,
Arch|bishop of Rheims; but it was written above two Hundred Years after him, and was
fol|lowed by many more as false, which yet pleased the people of those times, more sim|ple and
ignorant yet than those who wrote them. Then none endeavouring to get good Memoirs to write
true History, and Men finding matter more easily in their Fancy; Historians degenerated into
Romancers, and the Latin Tongue fell into as much contempt as Truth had done before. Then the
Trou|badours, Comics and Contours of Provence, [Note: Iean de No|stredame. Vie|des Poetes
Pro|ven[...]aux. ] who were the writers that practis'd what is still call'd in the Southern parts of
France, Le guay Saber, or the Gay Science, spread all over that Kingdom their Stories and new
sort of Poetry, of all kinds, composed in the Roman Language, which was a mixtu[...]e of the
Gallic. Tentonick, and Latin Tongues, in which the [...] was superior, so that to distinguish it from
that cxxiv usually spoken through the other parts of the Gauls, it kept the name of Roman.

The Germans, as Tacitus relates, us'd to sing the Heroic Deeds of Hercules, when they went to
fight. The ancient Inhabitants of Denmark, Sweeden and Norway, had fabulous Stories which
they engrav'd in old Runic Cha|racters upon large Stones, of which some are still to be seen. The
most usual diver|sion at their Feasts was to sing in rhiming Verse the brave Deeds of their
ancient Gi|ants. These Stories us'd to draw Tears from the Eyes of the Company, and after that,
being well warm'd with good Cheer, to their Tears succeeded Crys and Howlings, till all at last
fell in confusion under the Table. The Kings and Princes of Denmark, Norway, and the
neighbouring Countries had always their Scaldri, thus were call'd their Poets, who us'd
extempore to make Verses in Rhime, embel|lish'd with Fictions and Alle|gories, [Note: Appendix
de Literaturâ Runicâ. ] upon all Memorable Events, and those were immedi|ately learn'd, and
sung by the People: Even some of the Kings and Queens of those Countries were Scaldri: As
Olaus Wormius tells us.

The Indians, Iapanese and Chinese have an infinite Number of Poets and Fables, and the latter
esteem almost Rustic any other way than that of Apologues in their Conversati|on.

cxxv Even the Turks, to fit themselves for Love or War, have not only the Persian Roman|ces,
but Fables of their own devising, and will tell you that Roland was a Turk, whose Sword they
still preserve at Bursa with Ve|neration, relating the particulars of his Life, and the great things
he did in the Levant.

The Americans are great Lovers of Fables, and near Canada the most wild among them, after
their Feasts, generally desire the oldest or the greatest Wit of the Company to in|vent and relate
to them some strange Story. Beavers, Foxes, Racoons, and other Animals generally come in for a
share in the Fiction, and the hearers are very attentive to their Adventures, the Relation of which
they never interrupt but by their Applause, and thus Days and Nights are past with equal
satisfaction to the Speaker and the Hearers. The People of Florida, Cumana and Perou excite
themselves to work, and to martial exploits by Songs and fabulous Narrations of the great
Atchievements of their Prede|cessors. Whatever they relate of their Ori|gin is full of Fictions; but
 50

in this those of Perou far out-lye the rest, and have their Poets to whom they give a Name that
answers to that of Inventors. Also those of Madagascar have Men who stroul from House to
House to recite their Composures; and those of Guinea have their tellers of Fables, like those of
the Northern Parts of America.

cxxvi Thus, as observes Huetius, from whom I have borrowed part of these Historical
Ob|servations on Fables, no Nation can well at|tribute to it self the Original of them. Since all
equally have been addicted to invent some in the most ancient Times; there is only this
Difference, that what was the Fruit of the Ignorance of some Nations, even in Eu|rope, has been
that of the Politeness of the Persians, the Ionians and the Greeks.

When Rabelais lived all the foolish Ro|mances that had been made in the barbarous Ages that
preceded his were very much read; therefore, as he had a design to give a very great latitude to
his Satyr, he thought he could not do better than to give it the form of those lying Stories, the
better to secure himself from Danger, and at once show their Absurdities; also to cause his Book
to be· the more read, having perceived that nothing pleased the People better than such Writings;
the Wise and Learned be|ing delighted by the Morality under the Al|legories, and the rest by their
odness. This was a good Design, and it proved as Ef|fectual to make those who had any sence
throw away those gross Fables stuffed with wretched Tales of Giants, Magicians and
Adventurous Knights, as Miguel de Cervantes's Don Quixot proved in his Country to root out
Knight-Errantry.

Thu[...] Lucian before him, in his Story of cxxvii the Ass, enlarged afterwards by the Philo|sopher
Apuleius, had ridicul'd Lucius of Pa|tras, and, to make it the more obvious, call|ed that Fable by
the name of that Mytho|logist, who had writ a Book of strange Metamorphoses, which he
foolishly believed to be true. Rabelais seems also to have imitated Lucian's true History, called
so by its Author, by Antiphrasis; though some have thought that he had joyned it to the Trea|tise
in which he gives Precepts to write History well, as an Example of his Rules: But he declares at
the beginning of that incredible History, That his only design was to expose many Poets,
Historians and Philosophers, who, with inpunity, related false Things as Truth, and used, upon
unfaithful Relations, to treat of foreign Countries, as Ctesias and Iambulus had done.

But our History is not altogether an Imi|tation of that of Lucian, though it partici|pates of its
Nature. 'Tis Dramatic also, as that Greek Author says of some of his Works; a mixture of
Dialogue and Comedy; of seri|ous Matter and of the Ridicule; of Plays of all sorts, whether
Trabeatae, Pretextatae, Palliatae, Togatae, Attellanae, Tabernariae, &c. 'Tis the Saty|rica of the
Greeks; the Archaea, the Media and the Nova Comoedia: For sometimes great things are treated
by our Author in a manner equal to their Grandeur; at others they are brought down to the Level
of the Planipedia: cxxviij Now and then little more than Mirth is meant: Often also particular
Persons are re|flected on by Name; at others they appear mask'd and disguised; and frequently, as
in the new Comedy of the Greeks, the Cha|racters are general. 'Tis likewise Hilaro|tragoedia;
that sort of Dramatic Composures which Rhinthon of of Taras, [Note: Suidas, in [...]. ] about the
Reign of the first Ptolomy, is said to have in|vented; which doubtless got him that Name of [...]
given him by Stephanus Bysantius, which some render Iocator, but is thought by Hesychius to
signifie Scurra. This Rhinthon's Fables, [Note: Ad Prolog. Adelph. ] of which Donatus makes
mention in his Notes on Terence, and which Suidas says were Thirty eight in Number, still in
 51

being when Spephanus writ, were imitated at Rome: And as that Geographer says, that Rhinthon
turn'd Tragic Things into Ridicule, an Italian Critic thinks that the Hilarotragoedia was only una
tragedia contrafatta è di grave ridotta al piacevole; [Note: Ragion. dello Academ. Al|dean. ] è di
tragedia, per dir cosi, fatta Comedia; that is, a Tragedy turn'd into a Comedy or a Farce. [Note:
Preface sur les Caesars de Iuli- ] But the Learned Spanheim more properly thinks that Rhinthon
had joined the comic Mirth of the Greek· Satyric Plays and Interludes to the gravity of Trage|dy
cxxix which may by that have got the name of Mixta.

Our Rabelais's Work is also a Satyr of the kind of those which from Menippus were call'd
Menippaean by his imitator Varro, the most learned among the Romans; having given that Name
to that which he made, because, like that Cynic Philosopher, in it he had treated of grave Mat|ters
in a merry joking Style. That Satyr, [Note: Et tamen in illis veteribus nostris, quae Menippum
imitati, non inter|pretati, quadam hilaritate consper|simus, multa ad|mista ex intimâ philosophiâ,
multa dialecticè dicta. Academ. Quaest. L. 1. ] or as Tully calls it, that Poema varium et elegans
was at once a mixture of Prose and several sorts of Verse; of Greek and of Latin; of Philology
and of Philosophy. That Orator makes him give some account of its design and variety; and
without Doubt that Work was far more esteemable than the Examples which he follow'd; if, as
Diogenes Laertius says, those of Menip|pus were made merely to excite Men to Laugh,
consisting chiefly of Parodiae, or Verses out of famous Authors, and generally Ho|mer,
Euripides and such others inverted, and tagg'd together sometimes like the Cento of Ausonius,
and often in the Nature of our Mock Songs. Yet since Strabo says that by them he got the Name
of [...] or cxxx Ioco-serius, [Note: Lib. 16. ] we may believe that there was a morality in them;
but that, as in our Rabelais, not being ob|vious, some thought them trifling; like ma|ny in our
Age who find it much easier to Judge and find fault than to understand.

I could wish that among the other sorts of Writing which, in something, have been imitated by
our Author, I might not rec|kon Petronius Arbiter; Yet I only say this as to his immodesty; for,
otherwise, as that Consul under some Amorous Fictions has concealed a close and Ingenious
Satyr on the vices that reign'd in Nero's Court, and was as nice and good a Judge of polite
Learning as of dissolute Pleasures, without doubt he is to be follow'd and admir'd: And indeed
his Fable was esteem'd to be like the Greek Satyric Poems which Plato says consisted of Fictions
whose hidden sence differ'd very much from the superficial signification of the Words; since
Macrobius, while he distin|guishes Fables, made barely to please from those that at once divert
and instruct, has placed that of Petronius among the latter.

Our Author's Works are also an Imitation of Democritus and of Socrates, if we may compare
Writings with Actions; for those two Philosophers used to be still merry, and freely ridicul'd
what ever was a fit Subject of Rallery: For this reason Quintilian says of the latter, Etiam vita
unversa Ironiam habere cxxxi videtur, qualis est vita Socratis; and that great Philosopher, who
had deserved the Name of the Wisest of Men, was called Scurra by Zeno, as Tully renders it: Yet
Plato and Xeno|phon his Scholars have not only transmitted to us some of his admirable
expressions but also imitated them; [Note: De Dictione Ludicra. ] and we may apply to Rabelais
what Vavassor said of that wise Man; Constans ac perpetuus irrisor Mortalium.

In this, his Work somewhat differs from the greatest part of the Satires of the Roman[...]; for he
seldom leaves his Ridiculing for their angry Railing. Their chief Design is less to rally than
 52

excite either Indignation or Ha|tred, facit indignatio versum. Which caused an Ancient
Grammarian to say, [Note: Iuven. Satyr. 1. ] Satyra dicitur carmen apud Romanos nunc quidem
maledicum; thus calling Satire a railing or slandering Poem: [Note: Diomed. Lib. 3. Gram. ]
And Ovid excu|sing himself for not having writ any, gives it the Epithete of biting.

Non ego mordaci distrinxi carmine quem|quam.

Nec meus ullius crimina versus habet.

Accordingly the Authors of the Roman Satires generally keep the Character of Censors. Horace
has given the gayest Air of them all to his Satires, and in that of Nasidienus, the cxxxij
Description of the fight between Sarmentus and Messius, as also in some others, has af|fected a
comic Style; he also tells us that Satyr ought to be sometimes treated gayly, and at others sullenly
or gravely; Et sermone o|pus est modo tristi saepe jocoso. Yet in other places he speaks of the
Sharpness of his Satyrs, and owns that they were an ill-natur'd or malici|ous kind of Writing.

Lib. 2. Sat 1.

---tristi laedere versu,

Pantolabum scurram, Nomentanum{que} nepotem.

Then he takes notice of the Complaint of some against him.

---Lividus & mordax videor tibi.

He also observes that 'tis not enough to make a hearer laugh.

Ergo non satis est risu diducere rictum, Auditoris.

Sat. 10. Lib. 1.

Far from this, he saith it is a commenda|ble thing to fill a Man with shame, and as he calls it, to
bark at him if he deserves it.

Si quis opprobiis dignum latraverit.---

cxxxiij This causes another Satyrist speaking of Lucilius, whose Imitator he was as well as
Horace, to say,
 53

Ense velut stricto, quoties Lucilius ardens

Infremuit, rubet auditor cui frigida mens
Criminibus.---
Juvenal Sat 1.

The same in another place, reflecting on the deprav'd manners of his Age, crys, Difficile est
Satyram non scribere. By which he sufficiently shows what was the Object and Design of those
sorts of Poems.

Now Rabelais chiefly pursues his Subject by jesting and exposing, ridiculing and de|spising what
he thinks deserves such an u|sage; and 'tis but seldom that he makes use of railing, or sullen
biting Reproofs. Yet as he has done it in some places, we may well say that his Work hath
something of the Roman Satyr.

In short, 'tis a mixture, or if I may use the Expression, an Ollio of all the Merry, Serious,
Satyrical and diverting ways of Writing, that have hitherto been us'd. But still Mirth is
predominant in the Composition, and like a pleasing Tartness, gives the whole such a relish,
[Note: Mr. Tate, Pre|face to a Duke and no Duke. ] that we ever feed on it with an eager
Appetite, and can never be cloy'd with it. 'Tis Farce, as our Laureat in his late curious Pre|face,
cxxxiv concerning that way of Writing, ju|diciously observes of some of Ben Iohnson's, but such
Farce, as bequeaths that Blessing (pronounc'd by Horace) on him that shall at|tempt the like.

---sudet multum frustra{que} laboret

Ausus idem.

For, as 'tis there observ'd, the Business of Farce extends beyond Nature and Probabi|lity. But then
there are so few improbabi|lities that will appear pleasant in the Repre|sentation, that it will strain
the best Inven|tion to find them out, and require the nicest Judgment to manage them when they
are conceiv'd. Extravagant and monstruous Fan|cies are but sick Dreams that rather torment than
divert the Mind, but when Extrava|gancy and Improbability happen to please at all, they do it to
purpose, because they strike our Thought with greatest Surprize.

Pasquier, the most judicious Critick that France had in his Time, was very apprehen|sive of this,
and illustrates it with two Ex|amples that concern too much our Author, and the Point in
Question, not to be inserted here. 'Tis in one of his Letters to the Poet Ronsard. [Note: Lettr. de
Pas|quier Liv. 1. ] Il n'y a cel[...]y de nous qui ne scache combien le d[...] cte Rabelais en
folastrant sagement sur son Gargantua et Pantagru|el cxxxv gaigna de grace parmy le peuple. Il
se trouua peu apres deux Singes qui se persuaderent d' en pouuoir faire tout autant; l' un
sou[...]s le nom de Leon l' Adulfy en ses propos rustiques. L'au|tre sans nom en son Livre des
Fanfrelu|ches. Mais autant y profita l'un que l'autre; s' estant la memoire de ces deux Livres
perdue.
 54

That is; All know to what degree the learned Rabelais gain'd the Esteem of the Nation by his wise
Drolling on his Gargantua and Pantagruel; soon after started up a couple of Apes who conceived
that they could do as much; viz. Leon l' Adulfy in his Propos Rustiques, and the Anonymous
Author of Fanfreluches. But as ill did the one succeed as the other; the Memory of those two
Books being lost.

This Work of Rabelais is doubtless an Original by imitating and joyning in one so many others.
To imitate it, is not only periculosae plenu[...] opus aleae, but almost an im|possible task; nor is it
easily to be defin'd. We see that it is Historical, Romantic, Al|legorical, Comical, Satirical; But as
some|times all these kinds of Writing are united in one Passage, a[...] others they appear
seve|rally.

I might say that it is partly Dramatic: For there appears in it a great deal of Action: The
Dialogues, of which it is full, are as many lively Scenes: Europe is the cxxxvi Stage, and all
Mankind is the Subject: The Author with his Witty Drolling Prologues comes in between every
act, as the Silen[...] and the Satyri did in the Greek Satyric Plays. Or, if you had rather have it so,
he sup|plys the place of the Chorus in some of the Old Comedies: The five Books answer exactly
the five Acts; and it might perhaps as easily be made appear by a D' acier that he has manag'd his
Drama regularly, as by a Bossu that the Father of Epic Poetry has observ|ed a Just Conduct in his
Iliads.

It has the Form of an History, or rather of Romances, which it tacitly ridicules, I mean such of
them as those Ages produced which preceded the Restoration of Learning, that chiefly happened
when our Author lived; your Amadis de Gaule, Lancelot du Lac, Tristan, Kyrie Eleison of
Montauban, &c. For then Kyrie Eleison and Deuteronomy were taken for the names of Saints;
somewhat like the Epito|mizers of Gesner's Bibliotheque, who have a|scribed Amadis to one
Acuerdo Olvido, not knowing that these two Words, which they found on the Title page of the
French version of that Book, were the Translators Spanish Motto, that signifies Remembrance,
Ob|livion. Our Author seems to have mimick'd those Books, even in their Titles, in their
Division into Chapters, and in the odd Accounts of their Contents. I am much mistaken if in
many places he has not also affected cxxxvij their Style; tho in others he displays all the Purity
and Elegancy which the French-Tongue, which he has much improved, had at that Time.

As for the mixture of odd, Burlesque, Bar|barous, Latin, Greek and obsolete Words which is seen
in his Book, 'tis justifiable, as it serves to add to the Diversion of the Reader, pleased generally
the more, the greater is the Variety, principally in so odd a Work.

About Twenty Years before it was com|posed, Theophilus Folengi a Monk, born at Mantua of a
Noble Family, who is hardly known now otherwise than by the name of Merlinus Coccaius, had
put out his Liber Maca|ronicorum, which is a Poetical Rhapsody made up of Words of different
Languages, and treating of pleasant Matters in a Comical Style: The word Macarone in Italian
signifies a Jolly Clown, and Macaroni a sort of Cakes made with course Meal, Eggs and Cheese,
[Note: Eleg. p. 72. ] as Thomasin ob|serves. He published also ano|ther Work which he called Il
libro della Gatta in the same Style, and another only Maca|ronic in part, called Chaos del tri per
uno.
 55

A learned Critic has esteem|ed that sort of Writing to be a third kind of Burlesque. [Note: Naudé
Iuge|ment des pie|ces contre Ma|zarin. ] Nor was Folengi only followed by his Country-men, as
Gau|rinus Capella in his Macarone de cxxxviij Rimini against Cabri Ré de Gogue magogue, in
1526, and Caesar Vrsinus, who calls him|self Stopinus in his Capriccia Macaronica 1536, For
the learned William Drummond Author of the History of Scotland, and of some divine Poems,
has left us an ingenious Macaronie Poem called Polemo-Middinia, printed at the Theatre at
Oxford, 1691.

Rabelais has imitated and improved some fine Passages of that of Coccaius, as well as his Style;
Though Mr. Baillet in his Iuge|ment des Scavans, thinks that it would be an impossible Task to
preserve its Beauties in a Translation.

The Italians affect those mixt sorts of Lan|guages in their Burlesque Poetry. They have one sort
which they call Pedantesca from the Name of the Persons of whom it most treats and whom it
imitates; Greek, Latin and Italian making up the Composition with an Italian Termination. Some
have celebrated the Amours of Grammarians and of others in that Italogrecolatin Tongue; and I
have seen a Book in Prose in that Idiom of Idioms, en|tituled Hipnerotomachia di Polifilo; Cioè,
com|battimento di amore in Sogno; or, The Fight of Love in a Dream.

Dante is full of Latin and Provenzale, of which he boasts, saying, Namque locutus sum in Lingua
trina; and Petrarch, though more sparing of Latin, has many French and Pro|vensale Words,
even whole Lines of the cxxxix latter, ponendovene anche· de i versi in[...]eri, says one of his
Country Men; And, besides a great Number of Books of Burlesque Poetry and Prose, which they
have in Lingua Bergamesca, Bolognese, Paduana, Venetiana, Bresciana, Ve|ronese, Genouese,
Napolitana, Romana, Ciciliana, Sarda, &c, they sometimes have mixed seve|ral of those
Dialects together.

This mixture of Languages, and of odd and fantastic Terms, has been censured by Vavassor,
chiefly, because he pretends that the Ancients never us'd it, though none will de|ny that they mixt
Words and Verses of dif|ferent kinds that has read of their Satura Lanx, or the [...]. Diomedes
says, Saty|ra est carmen quod ex variis poematibus constat, and Lucilius whom Pliny says to
have first found out Stylum Nasi, the way of speaking us'd in Plays, wrote in a low and vulgar
Style, mixt sometimes with Greek. Plautus has Pu|nic words, and Cicero has Greek particularly
in his Epistles. But to show that odd words, such as are found in our Author's Burlesque
Writings, have been us'd by the Ancients, we need but consult Diogenes Laertius, and we shall
find that Democritus allowed himself as great a Liberty in using odd Expressions, as in laughing
at Mankind. For he had so many particular Words, that a Greek Au|thor made a Dictionary of
them; his Bio|grapher relates some of them, and Hesychius, has preserv'd also one or two, which
he had cxl probably out of that Dictionary, that has been lost. Vavassor himself, owns that
Aristo|phanes has verba inusitata, composita ex multis verbis & sonantibus, and that in his Plays,
Persae, Triballi, Scythae, patriâ & barbarâ voce utuntur, Laco & Thessalus. That Comic Poet
has indeed many Words as strange as Rabelais, as [...], from which the Latin have made coaxare;
then [...], which are the various Voices of Birds. Then he has Diminutives, as [...]; and if Rabelais
has very long Words, so has Aristophanes, as his [...], and many others, among which, the longest
is made up of twenty eight, and begins by [...]. &c. Also in the Anthologia, Grammarians are
call'd [...], and there is an Epigram by an ancient Poet, all in such Burlesque a|gainst
 56

Philosophers, which begins thus,

O [...],
[...], &c.

A great number of long Decomposites are found in Greek Authors, and if the Latins have us'd
them less, 'tis because their Tongue cxli was not so happy in linking Words together, as
Quintilian observes. Yet we have many in Plautus that are downright Burlesque of the the same
kind, as Ferritribaces, Servilicolae, Pla|gipatide, Cluninstaridysarchides, &c.

What shall we think of the Parodiae of which Aristophanes and Lucian are full, and which Iulian
has us'd in his Caesars, as many more a|mong the Greeks have done; those Witti|cisms being a
part of the Salt, which they so much desir'd in all Jocose and Satyrical Com|posures.

As for the Puns, Clenches, Conundrums, Quib|bles, and all such other Dregs or Bastard sorts of
Wit, that here and there have crept in among the infinite number of our Auhor's ingeni|ous and
just Conceptions, I will not Apologize in their Behalf, otherwise then by showing that
Aristophanes and Plautus have strewed them more lavishly through their Works, which are
partly of the Nature of this. Nor is it ne|cessary to mention the great Tully, and ma|ny more
among the Ancients that allowed themselves the Freedom of using them; many of those dropt in
Conversation by that Orator having been thought w[...]thy to be made publick. They were
doubtless better lik'd in those times, than they are now, and we find them in as great a Number in
almost all the Writers, of the last Age, that pretended to Wit; nor have Rhetoricans refus'd to
teach or use the Figure Antanaclasis. cxlii So though we may mislike the Pun, we may admire
the Author, since these are but so many small Spots which far from darkning him, illustrate the
Beauties by which they are plac'd.

None can mislike the great number of va|rious Images which he gives of the same Things, or the
long train of verbs, or sub|stantives, which he often sets together; In|deed in another Work they
might be thought redundant. Ambiti[...]sa ornamenta rescindenda sunt; But here those Terms, tho
they are often Technical, and therefore instructing, are only used to cause Mirth: And they
become our Author so well that we seldom read them over without laughing.

Mirth being so desirable a thing, so be|neficial to the Body, and to the Mind, and laughing one of
the distinguishing Chara|cters of Mankind, our Author may be said not to have advantag'd the
World a little in composing this merry Treatise. He justi|fies himself in his Dedication to
Cardinal Chastillon for his Comical Expressions, by representing the ease which many
discon|late and sick persons had received by them; and he say[...] before his first Book Le R[...] re
est le propre de l' homme; or, as it has been English'd; Laugh only, so to show thy self a Man.
Even Caesar had writ a whole Book of merry and witty Sayings; and Balsac a great Ene|my to
Burlesque has said que ce n'estoit pas|peu cxliij meriter du genre humain, que de réjouir
quel|quefois Auguste; That Mankind was not a little obliged to the Man who sometimes could
make Augustus merry. That Emperor, as Macrobius tells us, did not think it below him
sometimes to write Lampoons, and made one on Pollio· who, knowing it, said; at ego taceo, non
est enim facile in eum conscri|bere qui potest pros[...]ribere.
 57

Horace afte[...] he has said, that it is not enough to make a Hearer laugh, [...], & est quaedam haec
quoque v[...]tus.

Nor has [...] only aim'd at Mirth; tho he has partly [...]de it subse[...]vient to his chief Design. He
kn[...]w [...]ha[...] the learned and the [...]gnorant, by different motives, delight in Fables, and that
the love of Mirth being universal, the only way to cause his senti|ments to be most known and
followed, was to give them a merry Dress. The Counsel of Trent begun to [...]it in 1545 and then
our Author begun to write. The Restauration of Learning had made the most knowing among the
Clergy, and the Layety desire that Primitive Christianity might also be restor'd. Accordingly I
find that when Rabelais was at Rome in 1536, the Cardinal of Trent, [Note: Lettres de Rabelais a
l' Evesque de Maille|zais. ] who was a German came thither to press the Pope to a Council, and
in our Author's presence said to Cardinal Du Bellay that the Pope cxliv refused to grant a
Council, but that he would repent it, for the Christian Prin|ces would take away what they had
gi|ven to the Church. The universal Cry was for the Restitution of the C[...]p to the Layety, and of
Marriage, to the Clergy; a|gainst Indulgences, Pardons &c. This caused Rabelais to put out these
Pithagorical Symhols as he calls them: That while some of the great ones privately and the
Protestants publickly, were indeavouring a thorough-Re|formation, he might insinuate a
Contempt of the Church of Rome's Fopperies ch[...]efly in the Clergy of France, and those that
were at the Council of Trent, as also in such of the Layety as had wit enough to find out his
meaning. And this is what he means, in the Prologue to his 3. Book, by the comical Account
which he gives of Diogenes, who seeing the Inhabitants of Corinth all very busy in their
preparations for the War, and himself not invited to help them, roul'd and tossed about his Tub,
that he might not be said to be Idle. For, says Rabelais, I held it not a little disgraceful to be only
an Idle Spe|ctator of so many valorous eloquent and warlike Persons who in the View and Sight
of all Europe, act this Notable Interlude or Tragicomedy. By the word, Eloquent, we may easily
Judge that this notable Interlude is the Council then sitting. He knew that in 1534, Calvin hav|ing
dedicated his Institution to Francis the I. cxlv the Bigots about him cunningly perswaded that
King not to read that excellent Work nor its incomparable Preface; tho he was o|therwise not
very religious, having made a League with the Turks, and joyned his Fleet to that of Barbarossa,
as also charg'd his Children in 1535 on pain of incurring his Curse to revenge his wrongs on
Charles the V. whom he used to call Satan's eldest Son. So, [Note: Memoires de Castelnau. ]
partly that his Book might not have the same fate, he made it myst|erious; and indeed that King
had it read to him inspight of those who told him it was heretical. But he was so imbroyl'd in
Wars that perhaps he dar'd not favour the Reform'd, for fear of being served by the Pope like the
King of Navarre. However even his Mother Loyse de Savoye, what Di|votion soever she shew'd
to Popish Fopperies, seems to have had but little Respect for them. For, in her Journal writ with
her own hand and kept still in the Chambredes Comptes at Paris are found these words
con|cerning St. Francis de Paule; Frere Francois de Paule fu[...]parmoy canonisé; a tout le,
moins jenpayay la Taxe; that is, Fryar-John de Paule was sainted by me; at least I paid the Fees
For making him a Saint. Yet our Author wrote not so darkly but that the Ingenious of that Age
could know his meaning, for the very anti|doted Conundrums which are the 2. Chapter, cxlvi of
his first Book, show that he treated of Religion, as he had said in the Prologue before it. The first
Stanza may perhaps be only designed to make the rest pass for a Banter; but the second mentions
the Pope and Calvin plainly; the first, whose Slipper 'tis more meritorious to kiss than to gain
Pardons; and the other, from the depth issued were they fish for Roaches, that is, the Lake at
Geneva, who said, Sirs, for God's sake let us forbear doing this; in the French, Qui dit Messieurs
 58

pour Dieu nous en gardons. I have not the leasure to examin now the other Stanzaes, though I
can explain some of them. But to show that Rabelais was understood when he writ, we need but
read the Verses printed in the French before his second Book; they are by Hugues Salel, a Man
of great Wit and Learn|ing, who, as I have said, had translated Homer's Iliads: In them he
encourages the Author to write on, and tells him, that under a pleasing Foundation he had so well
de|scrib'd useful Matters, that if he was not re|warded here below, he should be rewarded in
Heaven.

Gross Superstition proceeds from Igno|rance; so next to the First he exposes the Latter; but I
need not come to particulars: I may say that he has satirised all sorts of Vice, and consequently
all sorts of Men; we find them all promiscuously on his Scene, as in Bay's grand Dance in the
Rehearsal, cxlvii Kings, Cardinals, Ladies, Aldermen, Sol|diers, &c.

He saw that Vice was not to be conquer'd in a Declamatory War, and that the angry railing
Lectures of some well-meaning Men, were seldom as effectual to make it give Ground, as the
gay yet pointed Ralleries of those who seem unconcern'd; the latter con|vincing us effectually,
while the others with their passionate Invectives perswade [...]s of nothing but that they are too
angry to direct others.

This gay way of moralizing has also nothing of the dry mortifying method of those Philosophers
who, striving to demonstrate their Principles by Causes and a long Series of Arguments, only
rack the mind; but its Art and delicacy is not perceived by every Rea|der: Consequently many
People will not easily find out the inward Beauties of the Works of Rabelais; But he did not
intend that every one should perceive them; tho every one may be extreamly diverted by the
outward and obvious Wit and Humour. We may say of those hidden graces, what a Learned Man
says of those in Horace's Sa|tires. [Note: Heinsius de Satyra Hora|tiana. ] Quae cum animae
plebeiae percurrunt, nec venustatem vident, nec necessitatem argumenti intelli|gunt. Eruditi,
praeter incredibilem leporem, ad principium quo nititur recurrunt. The figure Oximorum by
which things at cxlviij first appear foolish, tho they are sharp and witty, is such a Master pice in
Rhetoric as can be perceived by none but the Skill|full. Painting has its Grotesque and bold
Touches which seem irregular to the Vul|gar, only pleased with their odness; while Masters, thro
the antic Features and rough Strokes, discover an exact Proportion, a Soft|ness and a Boldness
together, which charm them to an unspeakable degree. So in art|ful Jests and Ironies, in that lusus
animi and ju|dicious extravagance, what seems mean and ab|surd is most in sight and strikes the
Vulgar; but better Judgments under that course outside discover exquisite Wit, just and sublime
Thoughts, vast Learning, and the most pro|found Reasonings of Philosophy. Our Au|thor's first
Prologue has lead me to this Ob|servation, by that which he makes concerning Socrates.
Sorbiere, who was a Man not much given to praise the Li|ving, [Note: Sorberiana. ] and much
less the Dead, ap|plys this to Rabelais, owning that his Satire is the most learned and universal
that ever was writ; and that it also so powerfully inclines our Minds to Mirth, that almost all
those whom he had known, that had been much conversant with it, had gain'd by it's means a
Method of thinking agreably on the most profound and melancholic Matters. Thus it teaches us
to bear Adversities gallantly, and to make them our di|version rather than attack them directly,
and cxlix with a Concern which they are not worthy to cause. Ridiculum acri plenius ac melius
magnas plerumque secat res, says Horace.
 59

'Tis true, that those whose Temper en|clines them to a Stoical Severity, will not have the same
taste; and indeed, rallying seldom or never become them; but those who would benefit
themselves by the perusal of Rabelais, need not imitate his Buffoonry, and it is enough if it
inwardly move us, and spread there such Seeds of Joy as will pro|duce on all sorts of Subjects an
infinite num|ber· of pleasant Reflections. In those places that are most Dangerous, a judicious
Reader will curb his Thoughts and Desires, consider|ing that the way is slippery, and thus will
ea|sily be safe, with wise Refections, moderating his Affections. 'Tis even better to drink some
too strong Wines, tempering them with Water, which makes them but the more Pleasant, then to
confine our selves to flat and insipid Liquors, which neither affect the Palate, nor cheer us
within. The Roman Ladies us'd to view the Wrastlers naked in the Cirque, and one of them
discreetly said, that a vertuos Woman was not more scandaliz'd at their Sight, then at that of a
Statue, of which great numbers were naked in all Places.

Thus the sight of those Females at Sparta who danc'd naked, being only covered with the publick
honesty, made no ill Impression on the Beholders. We may pass over with as much cl ease, the
impurities of our Historian, as we forgive to excellent Painters nudities, which they too faithfully
represent; and we may only admire and fix our Eyes on the other parts of the Piece, Omnia Sana
Sanis. The Wise can benefit themselves even by the worst of Books, like those Ducks of Pontus,
[Note: Lib. 17. Cap. 16. ] to whom, as Aulus Gel|lius says, Poysons are [...]ather wholsom than
hurtful, or those Bees of Pliny, that being gifted by Nature with the Vertue of the Psylli, could
usefully feed on the juice and sub|stance of the most venemous Weeds. [Note: Lib. 21. Cap. 13. ]
The Learned Iesuit, who, in favour of his Friend Balsac, writ a Trea|tise against Burlesque,
cannot forbear granting as much; [Note: F. Vavassor. de Ludicra Dicti|one. ] since he says,
Scriptores nostri quovis e genere librorum, etiam non optimorum, aucupantur vti|litatem
aliquam, & omnes undique stosculos deli|bant; quo fere pacto princeps olim Poetarum le|gere se
gemmas ex Enniano stercore dicebat.

The Age in which our Author wrote, was not so reserv'd in Words as this, and perhaps he has not
so much followed his own Genius in making use of gross, or loose expressions as he has
endeavoured to accom|modate his way of Writing to the Humour of the People, not excepting a
part of the Clergy of those Times. Now we ought cli not to blame those Authors who wrote in
former Ages, for differing from us in se|veral Things; since they follow'd Customs and Manners
which were then generally re|ceiv'd, though now they seem to us impro|per or unjust. To discover
all the Beauties in their Works, we must a while lay aside the Thoughts of our Practice, if it
contra|dicts theirs; otherwise, all Books will be ve|ry short-liv'd; and the best Writers, being
disheartned with the Thoughts of the speedy Oblivion or contempt of their Works, will no longer
strive to deserve an immortal Fame, which fantastic Posterity would deny them.

Some would altogether forbid the perusal of our Author: Du Verdier, in his Biblioteque, which
gives an account of all those that had writ in French, till about the Year 1585, has inserted a
large invective made against Rabelais, by an Author whom I have discovered to be Schoock;
[Note: In fab. Hamel. p. 31. ] These are his Words, Vtinam vel apud illos sit Rabelesus cum suo
Pantagruelismo, ut scurrilis hominis scurrili voce abutar. Certè, si quid callet bonae artis,
cogatur in eas tandem se exercere alioqui tam im|pius homo quàm publicè suis nefariis libellis
p[...]sti|lens, &c. Neque semel deploravi hominis sortem, qui in tantâ literarum luce tam densis
sese vi[...]ic|rum tenebris immergit. Others, principally of the Papist Clergy, have not been more
 60

kind to him, of which he himself, complains in clij some places of his Book, much like an
Au|thor whom he accuses of filching, in his 1st. Prologue. 'Tis Angelus Politian, a famous Latin
Poet who liv'd a little before him, and was also a Priest and a Prebend; he was a great admirer of
Plautus, whose perusal the Florentine Preachers would not allow in the Universities. So partly
on that account, he expresses himself in these Terms. Epist. Lib. 7.

Sed qui nos damnant, histirones sunt maximi,

Nam Curios simulant, vivunt Bacchanalia.
Hi sunt praecipuè quidam clamosi, leves,
Cucullati, lignipedes cincti funibus,
Superciliosum, incurvicervicum pecus;
Qui, quod ab aliis & [...]abitu & victu dissentiunt,
Tristi{que} vultu vendunt sanctimonias,
Censuram sibi quandam, & Tyrannidem occupant,
Pavidam{que} plebem territant minaciis.

In which Verses by the way, he has made use of a word, which an anci|ent Critic, [Note: Cum
[...] mirati sumus, incur|vicervicum vix a risu de|fendimus. Quintilian. ] also an admirer of
Plautus, mentions as Burlesque. But to show that our Author's way of Writing, is not of the kind
of those which ancient Philososophers have condemn'd, we need but consider that there is at
least as much bold|ness and impurity in that very Plautus, and cliij the ancient Greek Comedy.
Yet Cicero, whom all must grant to be a great Judge of good Writing and Morality, speaking of
the merry o[...] ridiculing way of writing which was to be condemn'd, opposes to it that of
Plautus, the ancient Comedy, and the Books of the Disciples of Socrates. These are his Words,
Duplex omnino est jocandi genus: Vnum, [...] berale, petulans, flagitiosum, obscaenum: Al|terum,
elegans, urbanum, ingeniosum, facetum. Quo genere non modo Plautus noster & Attico|rum
antiqua comoedia, sed etiam Philosophorum Socraticorum libri referti sunt.

After all, as I could wish that some Expressions, which I will not only call too bold and too free,
but even immodest and Prophane; had not been in this Book, I would not have those Persons to
read it, whose Lives are so well regulated, that they would not employ a moment, of which they
might not give an account without Blushing; nor those whose Minds not being ripened by Years
and Study, are most susceptible of dangerous Impressions. Doubtless, they may do much better,
than to read this Book.

Some therefore will think that either it was not to be Translated, or ought to have been translated
otherwise; and that as, in the most handsom Faces, there is always some Line which we could
wish were not there; so if those things which here may shock cliv some persons had been omitted
or soft|ned, it would more justly, and more ge|nerally have pleased; I suppose that the Translator
would have done so, had he not been affraid to have taken out some Material Thing hid under the
Veil of some unhappy Expression, instead of taking away a bare Trifle.

But as what may be blameable in this Book, bears no proportion with the almost infinite number
of admirable and useful Things, which are to be found in it, the In|genious ought not to be
 61

deprived of it. Lu|cian's works, notwithstanding a Thousand Passages in them, against Modesty
and Re|ligion, have been handed down to us by the Primitive Christians; which they would not
have done, had they not been sensible that they could do much more good than harm.

The Art of Writing has caused much Mischief, which made the Ancients say, that its Inventor
had sown Serpent's Teeth; yet who would be without the use of Letters? We may as well cut out
our Tongue, that World of Wickedness, as it is called in Scripture· Weak Minds may turn good
things to the worst use; and even sacred Writings have produced ill Effects: Readers are often
more blameable than Authors, and should like Bees gather Honey out of Poetical Flowers, clv
instead of sucking the Poison like Spiders. The cause of the ill Actions of most Men is not in
Books, but in the wicked Disposition of their Hearts: And the soft Melancholy with which the
most chaste Romances often cloud the Mind, thus making way for violent Passions, is much
more to be feared than a work of this Nature.

As long as those and some of our Plays are in the Hands of the weaker Sex; that Catullus, Ovid,
Iuvenal and Martial are learned by Heart in Schools by Men-Children, and a thousand other
Books more dangerous pro|stituted to the ignorant Vulgar; Rabelais's Works, in which there is
more Morality as well as more Wit and Learning, than in most that are read, may be allowed a
place among the Best. Verbis offendi morbi aut im|becillitatis argumentum est, saith Cicero: And
we may say for our Author, like Ausonius, Cui hic Ludus noster non placet ne legerit; aut cum
legerit obliviscatur: Aut non oblitus ignoscat. A learned and pious English Man, who was a
Bishop in France in the old Times, [Note: Ioan. Saresberien|sis, in Policratico. de. Nugis
Curial. ] and wrote almost as freely as Rabelais, says, Multitudinis imperitae non formido
judicia, meis tamen rogo parcant opusculis---In quibus fuit propos[...] ti semper à nugis ad bona
transire seria. Solomon bids us not speak in the Ears of a Fool, for clvi he will despise the
wisdom of our words: A[...] our Author speaks to none of those, his Book may be as useful as it
is diverting; pro|vided, as I have said, that a Reader curb his Thoughts in some few Passages;
which a Man of Sense will easily do, and I recom|mend it to no others.

PETER MOTTEUX.

At the end of the late French Edi[...]ions of Rabelais, without the least reason, the Dipsodes were
said to be Lorains; Fryar-Ihon was said to be Cardinal de Lorraine; Gargantua was said to be
Francis I. Grangousier was said to be Lo[...]is XII. Great Mare of Gargantua, Madam de
Estampes. Hertrippa, a great Magician· Hip|pothadeus, the King's Confessor. Lerné Bresse.
Loupgarou, Amiens. Pantagruel, Henry II. Sybil of Panzoust, a Court Lady. Panurge, Cardinal
de Amboise. Pichrocole, Piedmont. Salmygon|din, Benefices. Theleme, Protocole of the Coun|cil
of Trent. Xenomanes, the Chancellor.

These are all the Names said to be|long to these three Books, and unjustly call'd a Key to them.
 62

ERRATA In the Life and Preface.

PAge. 4. l. 32 For near, read to. Page. 22. l. 7. For laeus, read laesus, Page. 38. l. 12. For Falsè
read Salsè. Page. 56 (which should be 57) Line 17. And our World with thy presence grace again
read, And with thy presence grace our World again.

A Familiar Epistle To Mr. Baldwin On his publishing the Translation OF RABELAIS.

WHat's here? Plain-dealing Rabelais come abroad,

Spruc'd up with Cost, and in the newest Mode!
Dick· art thou mad? hast no Consideration!
Still playing 'th' honest Wight in thy Vocation,
And Printing dang'rous Truths to serve the Nation.
The Times need such a Satyrist, you'll Say,
As do's impartially about him lay,
And Rablais spares no Knave that comes in's Way.
Dick, thou meanst well, and well thy Author meant;
He lash't the former Age---but what's th' Event?
Has Reformation of one Vice ensu'd?
No!---Whipping makes old Lechers but more lewd.
Have public Cheats or private since been found
To lose, or Truth to get an Inch of Ground?
Thy Rabelais, Quixot's hum'rous Author too,
Have done what ridiculing Wit cou'd do;
Have Vanity expos'd in true Grotesque,
But might as well have preach't as writ Bur|lesque.
Quevedo to the former Pair admit
To make a great Triumvirate of Wit:
One Convert shew by what all Three have writ.
Is banish't Justice since to Earth arriv'd?
Religion or Morality reviv'd?
Havock in Field encroaching Tyrants make,
With Drum and Trumpet keep the World awake.
Repair to th' Hall, and There the clam'rous Bar
Presents you with another Scene of War.
As Conjur'd up by some infernal Charm,
Attornies, Petti-foggers, Pleaders swarm.
A Block-head must be fee'd, and waited on,
For that Advice by which you are Undone.
While Plaintiff and Defendant madly strive,
Both Parties starve to make the Locusts thrive.
 63

They who belong to th' Lott'ry of the Law

Are only safe, while Blanks the Clients draw.

Or, Tell me, is our Tribe of Quacks decreas'd?

Or less the Catalogue of the Deceas'd!
Are Bullets more destructive than the Pill?
Therefore, Add Doctor to the Weekly-Bill.

Has Biggottry to make a Man turn Sot,

Or Priest-craft how to menage Fools forgot?
Or is not, when a Pastor shifts his Place,
A fatter Benefice the Call of Grace?
Have ye ne'r seen a Drone possess at ease
What would provide for Ten Industrious Bees?

The Plodding Citt grows Rich:---his graceless Son

Turns Wit and Beau, drinks, whores, and is is undone.
What Rank or Sex (for, Dick, thou lov'st to speak
The best of Matters) their old Measures break?
How very Few quit their accustom'd Round,
That first do's others, then Themselves con|found?
Towns, Countries are but Copies of each other,
One half's Impertinence, and what is t'other:

But Speech and Mode's refin'd---Ay, to our Cost!

Breeding's improv'd, Integrity is lost.
Your humble Servant Sir---The Courtiers Note,
That's in plain English---Sir, I'll cut your Throat.
Believe me Sir, your Friend or y' are unjust:
An Ass you are if you believe or trust.
He calls you back---Depend upon't as done;
His next Words are---The Credulous Cox|comb's gone.
Say, is the very Sphere of Learning free?
Still old Abuses reign, and still we see
Science made Cant, and Nonsense Mystery.
Blind Form and Custom in the Van appear
Of ev'ry Order, Int'rest in the Rear.
 64

Pimps, Pandars, Stallions, Buffoons, Pa|rasites,

Setters, Suborners, Sharpers, Pillory-Knights,
Cheats, Cullies, Bravoes, Cowards, Hypo|crites;
This Spawn, with more that of their Rank you'll find,
Make half the Gallamaufry of Mankind.

Unjust or vain Desires, our Minds employ;

But sensless Cares the Miser's Rest destroy,
Who fears to lose what he can ne'er enjoy.
Why starv'st thou, Wretch?---I'm Thrif[...]y and would save---
For whom? For those will Piss upon the Grave.
Make but your Will, fall sick and speechless lie,
You'll see their kind Returns before you di[...]
Your Heirs, Executors, and Legatees
Will all disperse, what you bequeath'd to seize;
Not one to raise you, fainting in your Bed,
Or lift the cordial Julep to your Head.

The Fool and Wit, when once depriv'd of Breath,

Have equal Sense, and both the Jest of Death.
What difference, when into Earth's Clutches got,
Between the Slothful and the Busie Sot?
Betwixt Ambition, Fortunate or Crost,
To have Gain'd Never, or for Ever Lost?
What e're on Earth engages our Esteem,
Our Fear, or Anger, All's a Sick-Man's Dream.

The World's a Farce, which do's with Youth begin,

Most Men have Parts in the Fantastic Scene,
A Natural Scaramouch or Harleq[...]u in.
The Number of Spectators are but Few,
Who unconcern'd the frantick Medley View.
Yet---As by witty Rabelais 'tis Exprest,
Life's Idle Droll's an entertaining Jest.

N. Tate.
 65

TO The Excellent Translator OF RABELAIS.

AS when at first the jarring Seeds began

T' unite, and kindly ripen into Man,
Just was the Work, and goodly the Design,
Each Feature graceful, and each part Divine;
But still the beauteous Piece was incompleat,
Nor had the Sense engag'd it for its Sea[...]:
There wanted something to command the whole,
Inform the Mass, and warm it with a Soul;
Till Heav'nly Fire, descending from Above,
Breath'd Life throughout, and made its Or|gans move:
Thence ev'ry Nerve perform'd the Task en|joyn'd,
And Man towr'd upward with his Face, and govern'd with his Mind:
So far'd it with our English Rabelais, when
His injur'd Honours summon'd forth thy Pen.
Pensive and sad, the dark'ned Genius lay,
Nor could one pointed thought through Brit|tish Fogs convey.
Former Translators (good Men!) could not bear
That any Foe such pointed Teeth should wear;
With their own Wit they softned his, and thence
The nervous Satyr shrunk to feeble Sence.
Our Scriblers thus paid France with equal Wrong,
And made unjust Reprisals on her Tongue.
Whilst she destroy'd her Neighbours with her Swords,
They made as great a Slaughter on her Words.

But now each Page with native Lustre shines,

And Gallic Thoughts adorn the British Lines.
Thou giv'st an Author, and renew'st his Flame,
Translating so as to appear the same.
The same the vig'rous Heat, and sprightly Fire,
The same the Sting, and ev'ry Grace entire.
That e'en his blustring [Note: Gargantua. ] Heroe can't disown
The Justice done our Language and his own.

Thou mak'st our rugged Tongue to Rules submit

 66

Dissolving inharmonious Words to Wit.

So just and smooth each burly Word is spun,
Rabelais wou'd own his nicest Touch out-done.
So when with pow'rful Wan the Prophet struck
The stubborn Mount, and wounded through the Rock,
The barren Flint, dissolving, open'd wide
Its vanquish'd Breast, and melted to a Tide.
And the rough Summit (which but just before
Impending Ruine and Destruction bore)
Gave way, while from its Womb the Water burst,
And stop'd loud Israel's Clamours, and ap|peas'd their Thirst.

Oct. the 2d. 1693.

WILLIAM PITTIS, Fellow of New Colledge in Oxon

ON The Incomparable WORKS OF THE LEARNED Dr. RABELAIS·

THis Rabelais (as lowd Fame does bellow)

Was once a very learned Fellow.
Fellow! No; Doctor I should call him;
For, sure I can't enough extol him.
He writ a swinging Book of Physic,
To cure Folks of Catarrh and Phthisic;
Of Stone, Gouts, Dropsies and of Agues,
And other Woes which daily plague us.
But soon as e'er he understood
That writing Sense would do no good,
He strove to scribble seeming Nonsence,
T' oblige the People in their own Sence:
Changing his method of Advising,
And fell to Metagrobolifing.
Hey· What a Pox is That? (youll say)
Why, look for't in your Scapula!
And if you do not find it There;
Why---what a Devil do I care?
To Garagantua make Apology,
See if he'll shew you th'Etymology!
How! Garagantua! That's such Bombast,
(Crys one) as never Brain yet compast.
Such Brains (it may be, Child!) as thine,
That reach not to his great design.
 67

'Tis Aist'ry and instructive Satyr;

But thou know'st nothing of the matter.
Read Polexander and Grand Cyrus
(Whose florid Fooleries quite tire us)
They'r fit for thee: Whose Gust effeminate
Nothing can please, but Mead or Lemonade.
Those Tales like Truths such Fops esteem;
And Truth like this a Lydo's seem.
Dom Quixot with his Sanco can't weigh
The pond'rous Worth of Garagantua.
I speak to you of ev'ry Rank here;
The gainful Bankrupt, griping Banquier,
(The selfish States-man, flatt'ring Courtier,
(Who make all honest Men such sport here)
The honest Lawyer, pious Parson,
(Of which I fear, you will find scarce one)
The Whore of Honour, flutt'ring Gallant,
The dastard Soldier, Bully valiant,
The silent Bishop, pamper'd Cardinal,
(Who, when he's Pope (some say) can pardon all)
The Judge, the Hangman, Lord and Peasant·
(All I can think upon at present)
Ye lofty and ye peerless Rabble·
Y' are all the Moral of his Fable.
In one piece all these he has nick'd here.
Pray don't find fault then with your Picture!
For, being thus joyned, each of's may const're,
We make a very pretty Monster.
ALEX. OLDIS.

ON THE WORKS OF RABELAIS TRANSLATED.

HArd are their Tasks and hasardous their Lots,

Who in Translation drudge for envious Sots;
That ev'n to thought could make but faint pretence,
Nor could converse, unless at their Expence.
Yet strait the easie Benefit forget,
Condemn their Labours while they steal their Wit.
Fame's Lott'ry none wou'd play at were they wise;
The Stake's too weighty and too rare a Prize.
 68

All other Trades some certain aim pursue,

And in a surer Choice their Wisdom shew.
The wiser Merchant with expected gain
Sates his Ambition, and rewards his Pain:
Jewels set off his Luxury; and Gold,
The Seed of Discord, since its Age of old,
Whose all commanding Power can Princes sway,
Is but his Servant, does his Will obey.

Not so, the Men who useful Arts convey,

And foreign Sence to their own World display.
They too are Merchants (tho' with diff'rent Fate)
For they import the Wit which they translate.
Poor their reward; yet is it not secure,
No Laws the Learned's Property immure.
Touch but the other, you confusion breed,
And Magna Charta through their Wounds will bleed;
Their Injuries at once whole Nations rouse,
And Princes Swords their Quarrel[...] must espouse.

Only the Learn'd to all expos'd a Prey,

Steer through more dang'rous Seas their doub[...]ful way.
Each envious Breath does their smooth Course molest,
And frequent Piracies their Coasts infest.

Some few have safe the Rocks of Censure past,

And in the Road of Fame their Anchors cast.
The ancient Treasures these have made our own;
Thus Aesop is familiar with the Town:
Inspir'd with English by a learned Penoil,
His moral Beasts instruct our brutish Men.

Thus while our Wits do in his Cause en|gage,

Iuvenal's pointed Satyrs lash our Age.
 69

Oh might but Horace on our Nation smile,

And laugh its Follies from our happy Isle:
Wou'd the same Pens but vindicate his Fame,
Restore his Spi[...]its and revive his Flame;
Not let him languish in unjust Despair,
Maim'd in his Thoughts, and sp'd of all his Air;
Nor walk like discontented Ghosts the Town
Shun'd by his Friends, and to himself scarce known.
To our raw Youth his Wit might be display'd,
And [...] Mother-Tongue his Sense convey'd.
[...] no longer wou'd admire the Chime,
And Fops find something more than empty Rhyme.

Lucian expects to wear the English Dress,

And Rab'lais waits the Leisure of the Press.
Our Age, with Joy, may in this Pair behold
The modern Wit corrival to the Old.
Mens Follies both in a true Light display
With equal Wit, tho' a far diff'rent Way.
Singly the Greek of Numbers not afraid,
Does (like bold Knights) with open Force invade.
He pulls the snarling Cynic from his Herd,
And strings his Fiddle-stick with his grave Beard.
Then to his Jig a medley Crowd advance,
Kings, Tyrants, Conqu'rors lead the antic Dance.
But in warm Bosoms Rab'lais, fondly bred,
Like a tame Snake, does unseen Venom shed;
His wanton Twinings yet such Pleasure bring
They hug the Viper, tho' they feel his Sting.
Bitten by this Tarantula they lie
In tickling Pain, and even laughing die.
So feeble Dotards scourge the sluggish Part
For Provocation, and forgive the Art
That whets their Letchery, although [...] smart.

By this one Author, France, thou'rt ho|nour'd more

Than all thy envy'd Wealth, and ravish'd Store;
His Memory no Time shall ever blot,
That shall be fresh, when all thy Conquests are forgot.
Thus Spain does still in her Cervantes shine,
Nor can her Indies boast so rich a Mine.
On this Translation Rab'lais shall look down,
 70

Pleas'd with his Wit in all its Graces shown.

He like a Champion in the Front shall stand,
While injur'd Authors all with Pen in Hand·
Defie the snarling Critics of this Land.
No longer shall lean Poet tamely sit,
And hear fat Fools profane his darling Wit;
His Muse shall rouse, and in poetic Rage,
Drive Fops and foppish Critics off the Stage.

I. DRAKE

ON The most diverting WORKS OF THE LEARNED Dr. RABELAIS·

WHile some in wise Mens Garbs are mad,

Or gravely dull, that's near as bad;
Rabelais, a Foe to melancholy,
Is Wisdom in the Garb of Folly.
Tho' your grave Brutes can never find
The Fruit within the prickly Rind.
But if none else for Wise must pass,
Sure, nothing's wiser than an Ass.

As dull by Nature or Disaster,

When Rhimers laugh, 'tis like their Master,
And that's not often! For, we hear,
Apollo laughs but once a Year:
Scarce can he have so oft occasion,
So woful is each Wight's Oblation:
Whence, sympathising with their Rhimes,
They make us duller than the Times.

But who e'er reads our Doctor's Chronicle

Must laugh, though not in sence Ironical.
Who always reads it, will appear
To laugh indeed but once a year;
But that's as once a day feeds Glutton,
From Morn to Night, till out-flies Button.
 71

As in kind House, by Mob call'd Bawdy,

Old Sinner crawls to Punk that's gawdy,
Whom charitable fat old Woman
Has taught to be unkind to no Man;
He'd play, but cannot, till, by Flogging;
Rous'd Limberham keeps briskly jogging.
Jirk'd by his Hackney beyond Reason,
Yet pleas'd the more, the more she lays on:
So I who, ply'd with Rhime each hour,
Have Will to laugh, but scarce have Power,
Ev'n I, must laugh when I read Rabelais,
More pleas'd than Cull, on whom his Drab lays.
Pleas'd ev'n to pain, as well as he,
Yet fear lest others laugh at me.

This Simile, you'll cry, 's not good,

Nor goes on all Four as it should.
But why on all Four should it go,
While I its Dad must plod on two?
What though i'th' midst of Deed of Pravity,
Like new sworn May'r Cull keeps his Gravity?
If he laughs not at Face that's upper,
Yet Mirth's at t'other down the Crupper;
And to please either with a jirk,
A dose of Rabelais does the work.

While some Collegiate Farrier's Skill in

Curing lies in methodic Killing,
And indeed rids Men of all Evil,
If 'tis not one to go to th' Devil,
You pay not only for his Bill,
(Your Pass your Recipe into Hell)
But must ev'n pay for the damn'd Poyson,
Which for his Sport your Corps he tries on.
Well may the Wretches be called Patients,
Who must endure their Operations!
But Rabelais, learn'd in Kitchin Physic,
Ne'er lets those who consult him be sick:
Choice Bills of Fare his only Bills,
 72

His Potions Wine, and Mirth his Pills;

Playsters of warm Guts, gentle Frictions,
His iatraliptical Prescriptions,

Reader
Wouldst thou have all Quacks to forsake thee,
And make 'em lean, as they would make thee?
Read Rabelais; but, lest Laughing hurt thee,
First leak a while, then tightly girt thee;
Else, if thou burst not, sure it i[...],
Thou wilt at least thy self bepiss.
PETER MOTTEUX

A LIST OF Some of the Names mention'd in the First, Second and Third Books of
Rabelais, explained in the Pre|face.

THe Antidoted Conundrums,

 Grangousier,
 Gargamelle,
 Gargantua,
 Badebec,
 Pantagruel,
 Panurge,
 Fryar Iohn of the Funnels.
 Vtopia,
 Beusse,
 Verron,
 Bibarois,
 Pichrocole,
 Lerné
 Cake-Bakers of Lerné,
 The Cakes,
 Truands of Lerné,
 Philip Marais, Viceroy of Popeligosse,
 Theodorus, the Physiti|an for the Brain,
 White and Blew, Gargantua's Colours,
 Epistemon,
 73

 Anticyrian Hellebore.
 Vine of Se[...] illé,
 Ianotus de Bragmardo,
 Gargantua's Mare,
 Master Beggar of St. Anthony,
 Vlric Gallet,
 Giants,
 Gargantua's Sheherds,
 The Medlars
 The Thirstiness of Gargantua, and the Drought at Panta|gruel's Birth,
 The Limosin Schol|lar,
 The Catalogue of the Books in St. Vi|ctors Library at Paris,
 The Cause between Kiss-Breech and Suck Fizzle.
 Kiss-Breech,
 Suck-Fizzle,
 Thaumast the English Scholar,
 The Dypsodes,
 The City of the A|maurotes
 The Amaurotes,
 Loup garou
 The Giants Arm'd with free-Stone
 King Anarchus made to Cry green Sawse in a Canvas Iacket,
 The Almyrods
 Pantagruel covering an Army with his Tongue,
 The sickness of Pan|tagruel
 The Colony of Vto|pians sent into Dypsodi[...],
 Salmigondin
 Sybill of Panzoust
 Raminagrobis
 Enguerrant
 The Oxygian Islands
 Sammal[...]
 Her-Trippa
 Hippo-thadeus
 Rondibilis
 Trouillogan
 Triboulet
 Iudge Bridlegoose
 Herb Pantagruelion,

A Satire on the Pope, Em|peror, &c.

 Iohn d' Albret King of Navarre.

 74

 Catharine de Foix, Q. of Navarre.

 Henry d' Albret King of Navarre.
 Margaret de Valois his Queen.
 Anthony de Bourbon.
 Montluc Bp. of Valence.
 Cardinal Castillon, also Martin Luther.
 Navarre.
 Albret.
 Bearn.
 Vivarez.
 King of Spain.
 Spain.
 The Popish Priests.
 Bread in Communion.
 The Spanish Army.
 Philip, Son to the Mareschal of Navar.
 Berthaud, a Prote|stant Divine.
 Innocence, Piety, Bp. of Maillezais Colours.
 Ruffy, Bp. of Oleron.
 The Holy Scripture.
 Cup in the Eucharist.
 Cenalis Bp. of Avran|ches. Also a head of a College.
 A Lady.
 The Provincial Fath. of that Order.
 Constable of Navar: Also Vlric Zuinglius.
 Princes.
 Lutheran Preachers.
 The Reformers.
 The Cry for the Re|stitution of the Wine in the Eu|charist.
 Helisaine, a pedantic Au[...]hor.
 A Satire on some Books in that Li|brary, now one of the best in France.
 Tryal between the Mother of Fran. I. and Const. Bourbon.
 Poyet, Chancellor.
 Monthelon Ld. Keeper
 Sr. Thomas Moor and Hieronimus Cardan.
 Netherlanders.
 Terouenne,
 Picardy.
 The Town of Liliers.
 Castles near Liliers, St. Omer &c.
 Boors tha[...] Sheltered themselves there;
 Bapaume.
 A. of Bourbon obtaining Cloths for his Army.
 His Disgust.
 His Vassals in Picardy settled in the Low Countries.
 Montluc's Abbey.
 75

 St. Therese a Nun Virgo Veneta.

 Cretin an Old Poet;
 Monstrelet, Historiogr[...]|pher.
 Iersey, Gernsey, &c.
 St. Malo.
 Henry Corne. Agrippa.
 Philip Melancthon,
 Rondeletus a Physitian.
 Petrus Ramus.
 A Jester thus nam'd. Chancelor Poyet.
 Hemp.

THE AUTHOR'S PROLOGUE TO THE FIRST BOOK.

MOST Noble and Illustrious Drinkers, and you thrice pre|cious Pockified blades; (for to you, and
none else do I dedicate my Writings) Alcibiades, in that Dia|logue of Plato's, which is intituled,
The Banquet, whilst he was se[...]ting forth the Praises of his Schoolmaster Socrates (without all
question the Prince of Philosophers) amongst other Dis|courses to that purpose said, that he
resembled the Silenes. Silenes of old were little Boxes, like those we now may see in the Shops
of Apothecaries, painted on the outside with wanton toy|ish Figures, as Harpies, Satyrs, bri|dled
Geese, horned Hares, sadled Ducks, flying Goats, Thiller Harts, and other such like
counterfeited Pi|ctures at pleasure, to excite People un|to Laughter, as Silenus himself, who was
the Foster-father of good Bacchus, was wont to do, but within those ca|pricious Caskets were
carefully preser|ved and kept many rich and fine Drugs, such as Balm, Ambergreece, Ama|mon,
Musk, Civet, with several kinds of Precious Stones and other things of great price. Iust such
ano|ther thing was Socrates, for to have eyed his outside, and esteemed of him by his exterior
appearance, you would not have given the peel of an Onion for him, so deformed he was in
Body, and ridiculous in his Gesture: He had a sharp pointed Nose, with the look of a Bull, and
Countenance of a Fool: He was in his Carriage simple, boarish in his Apparel, in Fortune poor,
unhappy in his Wives, unfit for all Offices in the Commonwealth, always laughing, tip|ling and
merry carousing to every one, with continual gibes and jeers, the better by those means to
conceal his di|vine Knowledge. Now opening this Box you would have found within it a
hea|venly and inestimable Drug, a more then human Understanding, an admi|rable Vertue,
matchless Learning, in|vincible Courage, unimitable Sobriety, certain Contentment of Mind,
perfect Assurance and an incredible Misregard of all that for which Men commonly do so much
watch, run, fail, fight, travel, toyl and turmoil themselves.

Whereunto (in your Opinion) doth this little flourish of a Preamble tend? For so much as you, my
good Disciples, and some other jolly Fools of Ease and Leasure, reading the pleasant Titles of
some Books of our Invention, as Gar|gantua, Pantagruel, Whippot, the Dignity of Cod-peeces,
Of Pease and Bacon, with a Commentary, &c. are too ready to judge, that there is nothing in
 76

them but Iests, Mockeries, lascivious Discourse and recreative Lyes; because the outside (which
is the Title) is usually (without any far|ther enquiry) entertain'd with Scoffing and Derision. But
truly it is very unbeseeming to make so slight account of the works of Men, seeing your selves
avouch that it is not the Habit makes the Monk; many being Monasterially accoutred, who
inwardly are nothing less than Monachal; and that there are of those that wear Spanish Caps,
who have but little of the Valour of Spaniards in them. Therefore is it, that you must open the
Book, and seri|ously consider of the matter treated in it, then shall you find that it contain|eth
Things of far higher value then the Box did promise; that is to say, that the Subject thereof is not
so foolish, as by the Title at the first sight it would appear to be.

And put the case that in the literal Sense you meet with Matters that are light and ludicrous, and
suitable enough to their Inscriptions; yet must not you stop there, as at the Melody of the
charming Syrens; but endeavour to interpret that in a sublimer Sense, which possibly you might
think was spo|ken in the Iollity of Heart. Did you ever pick the Lock of a Cupboard to steal a
Bottle of Wine out of it? Tell me truly, and if you did call to mind the Countenance which then
you had? Or did you ever see a Dog with a Mar|row-bone in his Mouth (the Beast of all other,
says Plato, lib. 2. de Re|publica, the most Philosophical) if you have seen him, you might have
re|marked with what Caution and Cir|cumspectness he wards and watcheth it; with what care he
keeps it; how fer|vently he holds it; how prudently he gobbets it; with what affection he breaks it;
and with what diligence he sucks it. To what end all this? What moveth him to take all these
pains? What are the hopes of his Labour? What doth he expect to reap thereby? Nothing but a
little Marrow. True it is, that this little is more savoury and delicious then the great quantities of
other Sorts of Meat, because the mar|row (as Galen testifieth, 5. facult. nat. & 11. de usu
partium) is a nou|rishment most perfectly elaboured by Nature.

In imitation of this Dog, it be|comes you to be wise, to smell, feel and have in estimation these
fair goodly Books, stuffed with high Conceptions, that seem easie and superficial, but are not so
readily fathom'd; and then like him you must, by a sedulous Lecture, and frequent Meditation,
break the Bone, and suck out the substantial Marrow; that is, my allegorical Sense, or the things I
to my self propose to be signified by these Pythagorical Sym|bols; with assured hope, that in so
doing, you will at last attain to be both very wise and very brave; for in the perusal of this
Treatise, you shall find another kind of Taste, and a Dictrin of a more profound and abstruse
con|sideration, which will disclose unto you the most glorious Doctrin, and dreadful Mysteries,
as well in what concerneth your Religion, as Matters of the pub|lic State and Life oeconomical.

Do you believe upon your Conscience, that Homer whilst he was a couching his Iliads and
Odysses, had any thought upon those Allegories, which Plutarch, Heraclides, Ponticus,
Fristatius, Cor|nutus squeezed out of him, and which Politian filched again from them. If that is
your Faith, you shall never be of my Church; who hold that those Mysteries were as little
dream'd of by Homer, as the Gospel-Sacraments were by Ovid in his Me|tamorphosis; [Note:
Fere lubin croq lardon. ] though a certain Gulligut [Note: By Fryar Lubin here is meant Tho.
Walles, an English-man, a Benedictin, who wrote such a Treatise. ] Fryar and true Bacon-eater,
would have undertaken to prove it, if perhaps he had met with as very Fools as himself (and as
the Proverb says) a Lid worthy of such a Kettle.
 77

If you give any Credit to him, why are you not as kind to these jovial new Chronicles of mine?
Albeit when I did dictate them, I thought upon no more than you, who possibly were drinking
(the whilst) as I was: For in the com|posing of this Masterly Book, I never lost nor bestowed any
more, nor any o|ther time than what was appointed to serve me for taking of my bodily
Re|fection, that is, whilst I was eating and drinking.

And indeed, that is the fit[...]est and most proper hour, wherein to write these high Matters and
deep Sciences, as Homer knew very well, the Paragon of all Philologues, and Ennius, the Fa|ther
of the Latin Poets (as Horace calls him) although a certain sneaking Iobernol objected, that his
Verses sa|vour'd more of the Wine than of the Oil.

A certain Addle-headed Cocks-comb saith the same of my Books; [Note: Turlupin. ] but a turd
for him. The fragrant Odour of the Wine; Oh how much more sparkling, warming, charming,
celestial and delicious it is, than of Oil! And I will glory as much when it is said of me, that I
have spent more on Wine than Oil, as did Demosthenes, when it was told him, That his Expence
on Oil was greater than on Wine.

I truly held it for an honour to be called and reputed a good Fellow, a plea|sant Companion, or
Merry Andrew; for under this name am I welcom in all choice Companies of Pantagruelists. It
was upbraided to Demosthenes by an envious surly Knave, that his Orations did smell like the
Sarpler, or Clout that had stopped a musty Oil Vessel. Therefore I pray interpret you all my
Deeds and Sayings in the perfectest Sense; reverence the Cheese-like brain that feeds you with
all these jolly Mag|gots, and do what lies in you to keep me alwaies merry. Be frolic now my
Lads, chear up your Hearts, and joy|fully read the rest, with all the Ease of your Body and
Comfort to your Reins. But hearken, Ioltheads, O dickens take ye, off with your Bumper, I will
do you Reason, pull away, Superna|culum.

TO THE READER.

RAbelais had studied much, and look'd about,

And found the World not worth one serious Thought.
So, Reader, howsoever pert thou art,
Take this along he lays it not to heart.
Before-hand with you here, he reads your doom,
And damns Mankind, past, present and to come.
Be Knaves or Fools, that either squint or drivel,
Blindfold he throws and gives you to the Devil.
He saw what beastly farce this World was grown,
That Sence and all Humanity were gone.
Reason from thee; that never was his care;
He wou'd as soon chop Logic with a Bear.
But for the Laughing part, he bids thee strain;
 78

Laugh only so to shew thy self a Man.

CHAP. I. Of the Genealogy and Antiquity of GARGANTUA.

I Must refer you to the great Chronicle of Pantagruel for the knowledge of that Genealogy and
Antiquity of Race by which Gargantua is descended unto us: In it you may understand more at
large how the Giants were born in this World, and how from them by a direct Line issued
Gargantua the Father of Pantagruel. And do not take it ill, if for this time I pass by it, although
the Subject be such, that the oftner it were remem|b'red, the more it would please your
Wor|ships: According to the Authority of Plato in Philebo and Gorgias; and of Flaccus, who
says, That there is some kind of Matters (such as these are without doubt) which the frequent|lier
they be repeated, still prove the more de|lectable.

Would to God every one had as certain knowledge of his Genealogy si[...]ce the time of the Ark
of Noah until this Age. I think many are at this Day Emperors, Kings, Dukes, Princes and Popes
on the Earth, whose Extraction is from some Porters and Pardon-pedlars; as on the contrary
many are now poor wandring Beggars, wretched and mise|rable; 2 who are descended of the
Blood and Lineage of great Kings and Emperors, occa|sioned (as I conceive it) by the Revolution
of Kingdoms and Empires;

 From the Assyrians to the Medes;

 From the Medes to the Persians;
 From the Persians to the Macedonians;
 From the Macedonians to the Romans;
 From the Romans to the Greeks;
 From the Greeks to the Franks.

And to give you some hints concerning my self, who speak unto you; I cannot think but I am
come of the Race of some rich King or Prince in former Times; for never yet saw you any Man
that had a greater desire to be a King, and to be rich, than I have; and to the end only, that I may
make good Chear, do nothing, nor care for any thing, and plentifully enrich my Friends, and all
honest and learned Men: But herein do I comfort my self, that in the other World I shall be all
this; yea, and greater too than at this present I dare wish: As for you, with the same or a better
con|ceit enjoy your selves in your distresses; and drink fresh if you can come by it.

But returning to our Subject, I say, that by the especial care of Heaven, the Antiquity and
Genealogy of a Gargantua hath been re|served for our use, more full and perfect than any other
except that of the Messias, whereof I mean not to speak; for it belongs not unto my Province; and
the Devils (that is to say) 3 the false Accusers and Church-vermin will be upon my Jacket. This
Genealogy was found by Iohn Andrew in a Meadow, which he had near the Pole-arch, under the
Olive-tree, as you go to Marsay. Where, as they were casting up some Ditches, the diggers with
their Mattocks struck against a great brazen Tomb, unmeasurably along, for they could never
find the end thereof, by reason that it entred too far within the Sluces of Vienne. Opening this
Tomb, in a certain place there|of, sealed on the top with the mark of a Gob|let, about which was
 79

written in Hetrurian Letters HIC BIBITVR, they found nine Flaggons set in such order as they
use to rank their Kyles in Gascony; of which that which was placed in the middle, had under it a
big, greasie, great, grey, jolly, small, moudy little Pamphlet, smelling stronger, but no better then
Roses.

In that Book the said Genealogy was found written all at length, in a Chancery hand, not in
Paper, not in Parchment nor in wax, but in the Bark of an Elm-tree; yet so worn with the long
tract of time, that hardly could three Letters together be there perfectly dis|cerned.

I (though unworthy) was sent for thither, and with much help of those Spectacles, whereby the
art of reading dim Writings, and Letters that do not clearly appear to the sight, is practised, as
Aristotle teacheth it; 4 did translate the Book as you may see in your Pantagruelising, that is to
say, in drinking stifly to your own hearts desire; and reading the dreadful and horrific Acts of
Pantagruel. At the end of the Book there was a little Treatise entituled the Antidoted
Conundrums. The Rats and Moths, or (that I may not lye) other wicked Vermin, had nimbed off
the beginning, the rest I have hereto sub|joyned, for the Reverence I bear to Anti|quity.

CHAP. II. THE Antidoted Conundrums, Found in an ancient Monument.

. . . . . . . The Cymbrians overcomer

Pass thr . . . the Air, to shun the dew of Summer;
. . . At his coming . . . great Tubs were fill'd,
. . . . Fresh Butter down in showers distill'd.
. . . . . His Grandam overwhelm'd; so hey
Aloud he cry'd, . . . . . . . . . . . .
His Whiskers all beray'd, to make him madder;
So bang'd the Pitcher, till they rear'd the Ladder.

To lick his slipper, some told was much better,

Than to gain Pardons and the merit greater.
In the mean time a crafty Chuff approaches,
From the depth issued, where they fish for Roches;
Who said, Good Sirs, some of them let us save,
The Eel is here, and in this hollow Cave
You'll find, if that our looks on it demur,
A great waste in the bottom of his Fur.
 80

To read this Chapter when he did begin,

Nothing but a Calves Horns where found therein.
I feel (quoth he) the Mitre which doth hold
My head so chill, it makes my brains take cold.
Being with the Perfume of a Turnup warm'd,
To stay by chimney Hearths himself he arm'd,
6 Provided that a new Thill Horse they made
Of every Person of a hair-brain'd Head.

St. Patrick's Hole employ'd their wise Discourse;

And Elden Hole, with twenty thousand worse.
If any skill might bring them to a Skar,
So as no Cough reciprocate the Air.
Since every Man unseemly did it find,
To see them gaping thus at ev'ry wind.
For if perhaps they handsomly were clos'd
For pledges they to Men might be expos'd.

In this arrest by Hercules the Raven

Was slain at his return from Lybia Haven.
Why am not I, said Minos, there invited,
Vnless it be my self not once omitted.
And then it is their Mind I do no more
Of Frogs and Oysters send them any store.
In case they spare my Life and prove but civil,
I give their sale of Distaffs to the Devil.

To quell him comes Q. R. who limping frets

At the safe pass of trixy Crackarets,
The Boulter, the grand Cyclops Cousin, those
Did Massacre, whilst each one wip'd his Nose.
Few Ingles in this fallow Ground are bred,
But on a Tanners Mill are winnowed.
Run thither all of you, th' alarms sound clear,
You shall have more than you had the last Year.

Short while thereafter was the Bird of Jove

 81

Resolv'd to speak, though dism[...] it should prove.

Yet was afraid when he saw them [...],
They should o'rthrow quite, [...], th' Empire.
7 He rather chus'd the fire from Heaven to steal,
To Boats where were Red Herrings put to sale;
Then to be calm 'gainst those who strive to brave us,
And to the Massorets fond words enslave us.

All this at last concluded gallantly,

In spight of Ate and her Hern-like Thigh,
Who sitting saw Penthesilea tane,
In her old Age for a Cresse-selling Quean.
Each one cried out thou filthy Collier toad
Doth it become thee to be found abroad?
Thou hast the Roman Standard filtch'd away,
Which they in Rags of Parchment did display.

Juno was born, who under the Rainbow

Was a Bird-catching with her Duck below.
When her with such a grievous trick they plyed,
That she had almost been transmogrify'd.
The bargain was that of that throat full she
Should of Proserpina have too Eggs free:
And if that she thereafter should be found,
She to a Haw-thorn hill should be fast bound.

Seven Months thereafter lacking twenty two,

He that of old did Carthage Town undo:
Did bravely mid'st them all himself advance,
Requiring of them his Inheritance.
Although they justly made up the division,
According to the Shooe-welt-laws decision;
By distributing store of Brews and Beef
To those poor Fellows that did Pen the Brief.

The Year will come, mark'd by a Turkish Bow,

Five Spindles yarnd· and three Pot-bottoms too,
8 Wherein of a discourteous King the Dock
 82

Shall pepper'd be under an Hermits Frock.

Ah that for one she Hypocrite you must
Permit so many Acres to be lost.
Cease, cease, this Visard may become another,
Withdraw your selves unto the Serpents Brother.

The Day is past; so he that is shall Reign,

And his good Friends, all kindly entertain.
No rash or heady Prince shall domineer;
Peace and good Will must Triumph every where.
And all the Solas, promised long ago
To Heavens choice Guests, in mighty streams will flow.
And every Garron founder'd ne'er so long,
Shall with the Royal Palfreys praunce along.

And this continue shall from time to time,

Till Mars be fettred for an unknown Crime.
Then shall one come who others will surpass,
Delightful, pleasing, matchless, full of Grace.
Chear up your Hearts, approach to this Repast,
All trusty Frinds of mine; for he's deceast,
Who would not for a World return again,
So highly shall time past be cry'd up then.

He who was made of Wax shall lodge each Member

Close by the hinges of a block of Timber.
We then no more shall Master, Master, whoot,
The Swagger who th' alarum Bell holds out.
Could one seize on the Dagger which he bears,
Heads would be free from tingling in the Ears;
To baffle the whole Storehouse of Abuses;
And thus farewel Apollo and the Muses.

CHAP. III. How Gargantua was carried eleven Months in his Mothers Belly.
 83

GRangousier was a Good Fellow in his time, and notable Jester; he loved to drink neat, as much
as any man that then was in the world, and would willingly eat Salt|meat: to this intent he was
ordinarily well furnished with Gammons of Bacon, both of Westphalia, Mayence and Bayone;
with store of dried Neats Tongues, plenty of Links, Chitterlings and Puddings in their Season;
together with Salt Beef and Mustard, a good deal of Botargos, great provision of Sauciges, not of
Bolonia (for he feared the Lombard Boc|cone) but of Bigorre, Longaulnay, Brene, and
Rouargue. In the vigor of his age he marri|ed Gargamelle, Daughter to the King of the
Parpaillons, a Jolly Pug, and well mouthed Wench. These two did often times do the two backed
Beast together, joyfully rubbing and frotting their Bacon 'gainst one another, insofar, that at last
she became great with Child of a fair Son, and went with him unto the eleventh month, for so
long, yea longer may a Woman carry her great Belly; espe|cially when it is some Master-piece of
nature, and a person predestinated to the performance, in his due time, of great Exploits, as
Homer 10 says, that the Child which Neptune begot up|on the Nymph, was born a whole year
after the conception; that is, in the twelfth month; for as Aulus Gellius saith, Lib. 3. this long time
was suitable to the majesty of Neptune; that in it the child might receive his form in per|fection.
For the like reason Iupiter made the Night, wherein he lay with Alcmena, last forty eight hours; a
shorter time not being sufficient for the forging of Hercules, who was to rid the world of the
Monsters, and the Ty|rants. My Masters, the ancient Pantagruelists have confirmed that which I
say, and withal declared it to be not only possible, but also maintained the Legitimacy of the
Infant, born of a woman in the eleventh month after the decease of her Hus|band. [Note:
Hippocrates lib. de Alimento. Plin. lib. 7. cap. 5. Plautus in Ci|stellaria. Mar|cus Varro, in his
Satyr inscribed the Testament, alledging the Authority of Aristotle on this occasion Censo|rinus,
lib. de die Natali. Arist. lib. 7. cap. 3, & 4. de Natura Animalium. Gellius, lib. 3. cap. 16. Servius
in Ecl. upon that Verse of Virgil, Ma|tri longa decem, &c. and a thousand other Fools, whose
number has been encreased by the Lawyers F. de suis & Legit. l. intestato, S. fin. And in authen.
de restitut. & ea. quae patit. in 11 mense. Moreover upon these Grounds have they foisted in
their Robidilardick Law, Gallus F. de lib. & post & l. septimo F. de Stat. homin. ] And some
other Laws which at this time I dare not name; by means whereof the widows may, without
danger, play at the close buttock game, with might and main, and as hard as they can for the
space of the first two months after 11 the decease of their husbands. I pray you, my good lusty
springal lads, if you find any of these females, that are worth the pains of untying the Cod-piece-
point, get up, and bring them to me; for if they happen with|in the third month to conceive, the
child shall be heir to the deceased, and the mother shall pass for an honest woman.

When she is known to have conceived, thrust forward boldly, spare her not whatever betide you,
seeing the paunch is full. As Iulia the Daughter of the Emperour Octavian ne|ver prostituted her
self to her Belly-bumpers, but when she found her self with child; after the manner of Ships that
receive not their Steers-man, till they have their Ballast and Lading. And if any blame the women
for that after Pregnancy, they still continue bux|ome, and push for more; whereas any beast, a
Cow or Mare will kick and flounce, and admit no farther courtship from the Bull or Stallion: The
Answer will be, Why, They are Beasts, and know no better. As Populia here|tofore answered,
according to the relation of Macrobius Lib. 2. Saturnal. If the Devil will not have them to bagge,
he must wring hard the Spigot, and stop the Bung hole.
 84

12

CHAP. IV. How Gargamelle, being big with Gar|gantua, did eat a huge deal of Tripes.

THE occasion and manner how Garga|melle was brought to bed, and deliver|ed of her child, was
thus: and if you do not believe it, I wish your bum-gut fall out. Her bum-gut indeed, or
fundament escaped her in an afternoon, on the third day of February, with having eaten at dinner
to many Godebilli|os, Godebillios are the fat tripes of coiros; coiros are Beeves fatned in the Ox-
stalls, and Guimo meadows; Guimo meadows are those that may be moved twice a year; of those
fat Beeves they had killed three hundred sixty seven thousand and fourteen, to be salted at
Shrove|tide; that in the entring of the Spring they might have plenty of powdred Beef, where|with
to season their mouths at the beginning of their meals, and to taste their Wine the better.

They had abundance of Tripes as you have heard, and they were so delicious, that every one
licked his fingers. But as the De|vil wou'd have it, there was no possibility to keep them long
sweet, and to let them stink was not so commendable or handsom, it was 13 herefore concluded,
that they should be all of them gulched up, without any waste. To this effect they invited all the
Burghers of Sainais, of Suille, of the Roche Clermand, of Vaugaudry, without omitting the
Boudray, Mon|pensier, the Guedevede, and other their neigh|bours; all stiff drinkers, brave
fellows, and good players at the kyles. The Goodman Grangousier took great pleasure in their
com|pany, and commanded there should be no want nor pinching for any thing: neverthe|less he
bade his wife eat sparingly, because she was near her time, and that these Tripes were no very
commendable meat; they would fain (said he) be at the chewing of ordure, who eat the bag that
contain'd it. Notwith|standing these admonitions, she did eat sixteen quarters, two bushels, three
pecks and a pip|kin full. What a filthy deal of Lob lolly was here, to swell and wamble in her
Guts?

After Dinner they all went tag-rag toge|ther to the willow-grove, where, on the green grass, to the
sound of the merry Flutes, and pleasant Bag-pipes, they danced so gal|lantly, that it was a sweet
and heavenly sport to see them so frolic.

14

CHAP. V. How they chirped over their Cups.

THEN did they fall upon the chat of Belly-timber and drinking; and forth|with began Flaggons to
go, Gammons to trot, goblets to fly, great bowles to ting, Glasses to ring, draw, reach, fill, mix,
give it me without water, so my friend, so, whip me off this Glass neatly, bring me hither some
Claret, a full weeping Glass till it run over, a cessation and truce with thirst. Ha thou false Fever,
wilt thou not be gone? By my Figgins, Godmother, I cannot as yet en|ter in the humour of being
merry, nor drink so currently as I would; you have catcht a cold, Gammer; yea forsooth, Sir; by
the belly of Sanct Buff let us talk of our drink, I never drink but at my hours, like the Popes
 85

Mule; and I never drink but in my Breviary, like good father Gardien. Which was first, thirst or
drinking? Thirst, for who in the time of innocence would have drunk without be|ing a thirst? nay,
Sir, it was drinking; for privatio praesupponit habitum. I am learned you see, Faecundi calices
quem non fecere disertum? We poor innocents drink but too much with|out thirst. Not I truly,
who am a sinner, for I never drink without thirst, either present, or 15 future, to prevent it (as
you know) I drink for the thirst to come; I drink eternally, this is to me an eternity of drinking,
and drink|ing of an eternity. Let us sing, let us drink, now for a Catch, dust it away, where is my
Nogging? what, it seems I do not drink by Proxy. Do you wet your selves to dry, or do you dry to
wet you? Pish, I under|stand not the Rhetoric (Theoric I should say) but I help my self somewhat
by the Pra|ctice. Enough; I sup, I wet, I humect, I moisten my Gullet, I drink, and all for fear of
dying; drink always and you shall never die. If I drink not, I am a-ground, and lost. I am sta[...]k
dead without drink, and my Soul ready to fly into some Marish amongst Frogs; the Soul never
dwells in a dry place, drougth kills it.

O you Butlers, Creators of new Forms, make me of no drinker a drinker, a perennity and
everlastingness of sprinkling, and bedew|ing me through these my parched and sin|newy Bowels.
He drinks in vain that feels not the pleasure of it: This entereth into my Veins; the pissing Tools
shall have none on't. I would willingly wash the tripes of the Calf which I reer'd this morning. I
have pretty well now balasted my stomach, if the Papers of my Bonds and Bills could drink as
well as I do, my Creditors would have their Hands full. Hold up your dagger-hand; that hand of
yours spoils your Nose. O how 16 many other such will go in here before this go out; what, drink
so shallow? It is e|nough to streak both girds and pettrel. This is called a cup of dissimulation.

What difference is there between a Bottle and a Flaggon? great difference: The Bottle is stopped
with a stopple, and Flaccon a vis. Our Fathers drank lustily, and emptied their Cans; this is Bien
chié chanté, Well cack'd, well sung. Come, let us drink: Will you send nothing to the River? here
is one going to wash the Tripes. I drink no more than a spunge. I drink like a Templer Knight.
And I tanquam sponsus. And I sicut terra sine aqua. Give me a Synonymon for a Gammon of
Bacon; it is the Compulsory of drinkers; it is a Pully; by a Pully-rope Wine is let down into a
Cellar, and by a Gammon into the Stomach. Ha now Boys hither; some drink some drink; there
is no trouble in it. Respice personam; pone pro duos, bus non est in usu. If I could get up as well
as I can swal|low down, I had been long e'er now very high in the Air.

Thus became Tom toss-pot rich: Thus went in the Taylor's stitch: Thus did Bac|chus conquer the
India: Thus Philosophy, Melinde. A little Rain allays a great deal of Wind; long tipling breaks
the Thunder. But if there came such liquor from my But|tock, would you not suck the Udder?
Here, Page, fill, I prethee forget me not when it 17 comes to my turn; and I will enter the
E|lection I have made of thee into the very Register of my heart. Sup Simon; pull a|way, there is
somewhat in the Pot. I ap|peal from thirst, and disclaim its Jurisdiction. Page, sue out my Appeal
in form. This rem|nant is the bottom of the Glass must follow its Leader. I was wont heretofore
to drink out all, but now I leave nothing. Make not such haste; we must carry all along with us.
Ha day, here are tripes fit for our sport; Godebillios of the dun Oxe with the blach streak. O for
God's sake let us lash them soundly, yet thriftily. Drink, or I will, No, no, drink I beseech you;
Spar|rows will not eat unless you bob them on the tail; nor can I drink if I be not fairly spoke to.
Lagonaedatera, there is not a Cun|niborow in all my Body, where this Wine doth not ferret out
my thirst. Ho, this will bang it soundly; but this shall banish it ut|terly. Let us make Proclamation
 86

by the sound of Flaggons and Bottles, that whoever hath lost his thirst come not hither to seek it.
Long spits are to be voided without doors. The great God made the Planets, and we make the
Platters neat. I have the word of the Gospel in my mouth, Sitio. The stone called Asbestos, is not
more unquenchable, then the thirst of my Paternity. Appetite comes with eating, says Angeston;
but the thirst goes away with drinking. I have a re|medy 18 against thirst, quite contrary to that
which is good against the biting of a mad Dog: Keep running after a Dog, and he will never bite
you, drink always before the thirst, and it will never come upon you. There I catch you, I awake
you. Argus had a hundred Eyes for his sight; a Butler should have (like Briareus) a hundred
hands where|with to fill us Wine indefatigably. Ha now Lads, let us wet, it will be time to dry
here|after. White Wine here, Wine Boys, pour out all, par le Diable, fill, I say, fill and fill till it
be full. My tongue peels. Lanstrinque, to thee Countryman, I drink to thee good Fellow,
Camrade to thee, lusty, lively, ha, la, la, that was drunk to some purpose, and bravely gulped
over. O lachryma Christi, it is of the best Grape; I faith, pure Greek, Greek, O the fine white
Wine, upon my Conscience it is a kind of Taff[...]tas Wine, him, him, it is of one ear, well
wrought, and of good Wooll. Courage Camrade, up thy Heart, Billy, we will not be Beasted at
this bout, for I have got one trick, ex hoc in hoc, there is no Enchantment nor Charm there, every
one of you hath seen it, my Prentiship is out, I am a free Man at this Trade. I am an Abbot
(Pshaw I should say) O the drink|ers, those that are a dry; O poor thirsty Souls! Good Page, my
Friend, fill me here some, and crown the Cup, I prethee, á la Cardinale; Natura abhorret
vacuum. Would 19 you say that a fly could drink in this? A la mode de Bretagne. Clear off, neat,
super|naculum, swill it over heartily, no deceit in a Brimmer; Nectar and Ambrosia.

CHAP. VI. How Gargantua was born in a strange manner.

WHilst they were on this Discourse, and pleasant Tattle of drinking, Gar|gamelle began to be a
little unweil in her lower Parts; whereupon Grangousier arose from off the Grass, and fell to
comfort her very honestly and kindly; suspecting that she was in Travel, and told her that it was
best for her to sit down upon the Grass under the Wil|lows; because she was like very shortly to
see young feet; and that therefore it was conve|nient she should pluck up her Spirits, and take a
good Heart at the new coming of her Baby; saying to her withal, that although the pain was
somewhat grievous to her, it would be but of short continuance; and that the succeeding joy
would quickly remove that sorrow, in such sort that she should not so much as remember it. On
with a Sheep; courage (quoth he) dispatch this Boy, and we will speedily fall to work for the
making 20 of another. Ha (said she) so well as you speak at your own ease, you that are Men;
well then, in the name of God, I'll do my best, seeing you will have it so; but would to God that it
were cut off from you: What? (said Grangousier) Ha (said she) you are a good Man indeed, you
understand it well e|nough. What my member? (said he) Ud|rookers, if it please you, that shall be
done instantly; cause bring hither a Knife. Alas, (said she) the Lord forbid, I pray Jesus to forgive
me, I did not say it from my Heart, do it not any kind of harm, neither more nor less for my
speaking: But I am like to have work enough to day, and all for your Mem|ber, yet God bless
both you and it.
 87

Courage, courage (said he) take you no care of the matter, let the four foremost Oxon do the work
I will yet go drink one whiffe more, and if in the mean time any thing befal you, I will be so
near, that at the first whistling in your fist, I shall be with you. A little while after she began to
groan, la|ment and cry, then suddenly came the Mid|wives from all quarters, who groping her
below, found some Peloderies of a bad savour indeed; this they thought had been the Child; but
it was her Fundament that was slipt out with the molification of her Intesti|num rectum, which
you call the Bumgut; and that meerly by eating of too many tripes, as we have shewed you
before: Whereupon an 21 old ugly trot in the Company, who was re|puted a notable Physician,
and was come from Brispaille near to Saint Gnou threescore Years before, made her so horrible
a restri|ctive, and binding Medicine, whereby all her Arse-pipes were so opilated, stopped,
obstru|cted and contracted, that you could hardly have opened and enlarged them with your
Teeth: Which is a terrible thing to think upon; seeing the Devil at Mass at Saint Martins was
puzled with the like Task [...] when with his Teeth he lengthened out the Parchment whereon he
wrote the tittle tattle of two young mangy Whores.

The effect of this was, that the Cotyldons of her Matrix were all loosened above, through which
the Child sprung up and leapt, and so entering into the Vena cava, did climb by the Diaphragm
even above her Shoulders (where that Vein divides it self into two) and from thence taking his
way towards the left side, issued forth at her left Ear. As soon as he was born, he cried not as
other Babes use to do, miez, miez, miez, miez, but with a high, sturdy and big voice shouted
aloud, Some drink, some drink, some drink, as inviting all the World to drink with him; the noise
hereof was so extreamly great, that it was heard in both the Countries at once, of Beauce and
Bibarois. I doubt me that you do not throughly believe the truth of this strange Nativity, though
you believe it not I care 22 not much: But an honest Man, and of good judg|ment believeth still
what is told him, and that which he finds written.

Is this beyond our Law, or our Faith? against Reason or the Holy Scripture? For my part, I fi[...]d
nothing in the Sacred Bible that is against it; but tell me if it had been the Will of God, would
you say that he could not do it? Grammercy; I beseech you never Dum-found or Embarrass your
Heads with these idle Conceits: For I tell you, it is not impossible with God; and, if he pleased,
all Women henceforth should bring forth their Children at the Ear: Was not Bacchus engen|dred
out of the very Thigh of Iupiter? Did not R[...] quetaillade come out at his Mothers heel? and
Crocmoush from the slipper of his Nurse? Was not Minerva born of the Brain, even through the
Ear of Iove? Adonis of the Ba[...]k of a Myrrh-tree? and Castor and Pollux of the doupe of that
Egge which was laid and hatched by Leda? But you would wonder more, and with far greater
amazement, if I should now present you with that Chapter of Plinius, wherein he treateth of
strange Births, and contrary to nature; and yet am not I so impudent a Lyar as he was. Read the
seventh Book of his Natural History, chap. 4. and trouble not my head any more about this.

23

CHAP. VII. After what manner Gargantua had his Name given him; and how he tippled,
bibbed and curried the Can.
 88

THE good Man Grangousier drinking and making merry with the rest, heard the horrible noise
which his Son had made as he entered into the Light of this World, when he cried out, Some
drink, some drink, some drink; whereupon he said in French, Que grand tuas & souple le
gousier, that is to say, How great and nimble a throat thou hast; which the Company hearing,
said, that verily the Child ought to be cal|led Gargantua; because it was the first word that after
his birth his Father had spoke in imitation, and at the Example of the an|cient Hebrews;
whereunto he condescended, and his Mother was very well pleased there|with; in the mean
while, to quiet the Child, they gave him to drink a tirelarigot, that is, till his throat was like to
crack with it; then was he carried to the Font, and there bap|tized, according to the manner of
good Christians.

Immediately thereafter were appointed for him Seventeen thousand nine hundred and 24 thirteen
Cows of the Towns of Pautille and Breemond to furnish him with milk in ordi|nary; for it was
impossible to find a Nurse sufficient for him in all the Country, con|sidering the great quantity of
milk that was requisite for his nourishment: although there were not wanting some Doctors of the
Opinion of Scotus; who affirmed that his own Mother gave him suck, and that she could draw
out of her Breasts one Thousand four hundred two Pipes and nine Pails of milk at every time.

Which indeed is not probable, and this point hath been found duggishly scandalous and offensive
to tender Ears, for that it fa|voured a little of Heresie: Thus was he hand|led for one Year and ten
Months, after which time, by the Advice of Physicians, they began to carry him Abroad, and then
was made for him a fine little Cart drawn with Oxen, of the Invention of Ian Denio; wherein they
led him hither and thither with great joy, and he was worth the seeing; for he was a fine Boy, had
a burly Physi|ognomy, and almost ten Chins; he cried very little, but beshit himself every hour:
For to speak truly of him, he was wonder|fully flegmatic in his Posteriors, both by reason of his
natural Complexion, and the accidental disposition which had befallen him by his too much
quaffing of the Septembral 25 Juice. Yet without a cause did not he sip one drop; for if he
happened to be vexed, angry, displeased or sorry; if he did fret, if he did weep, if he did cry, and
what grievous quarter soever he kept, bring him some drink, he would be instantly pacified,
come to his own Temper, be in a good humour again, and as still and quiet as e|ver. One of his
Governesses told me (swearing by her Fig) how he was so accu|stomed to this kind of way, that,
at the sound of Pints and Flaggons, he would on a sudden fall into an Ecstacy, as if he had then
tasted of the Joys of Paradise; so that they upon consideration of this his divine Com|plexion,
would every Morning to chear him up, play with a Knife upon the Glasses, on the Bottles with
their stopples, and on the Pottle-pots with their lids and covers, at the sound whereof he became
gay, did leap for joy, would loll and rock himself in the Cradle, then nod with his head,
mono|cordising his Fingers, and barytonising with his Tail.

26

CHAP. VIII. How they Apparelled Gargantua.

BEing of this Age, his Father ordained to have Clothes made to him in his own Li|very, which
was White and Blew. To work then went the Taylors, and with great ex|pedition were those
 89

Clothes made, cut and sewed, according to the Fashion that was then in vogue. I find by the
ancient Re|cords, to be seen in the Chamber of Ac|counts at Montforeo, that he was accounted in
manner as followeth. To make him every Shirt of his, were taken up Nine hundred Ells of
Chetelero Linnen, and Two hundred for the Guissets, in manner of Cushions, which they put
under his Arm-pits; his Shirt was not gathered nor plaited, for the plaiting of Shirts was not
found out, till the Seamstresses (when the point of their Needles was broken) began to work and
occupy with the tail. There were taken up for his Doublet, Eight hundred and thir|teen Ells of
white Sattin, and for his Points Fifteen hundred and nine Dogs Skins and a half. Then was it that
Men began to tie their Breeches to their Doublets, and not their Doublets to their Breeches; for it
is against Nature, as hath most amply been 27 shewed by Ocham upon the Explonibles of Master
Hautechaussade.

For his Breeches were taken up Eleven hundred and five Ells, and a third of white broad Cloath.
They were cut in form of Pillars, chamfred, channel'd, and pinked behind, that they might not
overheat his Reins: And were within the panes, puffed out with the lining of as much blew
Damask as was needful; and remark, that he had very good Knee-rowlers, proportionable to the
rest of his stature.

For his Cod-piece were used Sixteen Ells and a quarter of the same Cloath, and it was fashioned
on the top like unto a trium|phant Arch, most gallantly fastened with two enamell'd Clasps, in
each of which was set a great Emerauld, as big as an Orange; for, as says Orpheus lib. de
lapidibus, and Pli|nius lib. ultimo, it hath an erective Vertue and comfortative of the natural
Member. The J[...]ct or out-standing of his Codpiece, was of the length of a yard, jagged and
pinked, and withal bagging, and strouting out with the blew damask Lining, after the manner of
his Breeches: but had you seen the fair Embroidery of the small Needle|work purl, and the
curiously interlaced Knots, by the Goldsmiths Art, set out and trimmed with rich Diamonds,
precious Ru|bies, fine Turquoises, costly Emeraulds and Persian Pearls: You would have
compared it 28 to a fair Cornucopia, or Horn of abundance, such as you see in Antics, or as Rhea
gave to the two Nymphs, Amalthea and Ida, the Nurses of Iupiter.

And like to that Horn of Abundance, it was still gallant, succulent, droppy, sappy, pi|thy, lively,
always flourishing, always fru|ctifying, full of Juice, full of Flower, full of Fruit, and all manner
of delight. Blessed Lady! 'Twould have done one good to have seen it: But I will tell you more of
it in the Book which I have made of the Dig|nity of Codpieces. One thing I will tell you, that as it
was both long and large, so was it well furnished and provided within, no|thing like unto the
Hypocritical Codpieces, of some fond Wooers and Wench-courters, which are stuffed only with
wind, to the great prejudice of the female Sex.

For his Shooes, were taken up four hun|dred and six Ells of blew Crimson-velvet, and were very
neatly cut by parallel Lines, joyned in uniform Cylinders: For the soling of them were made use
of Eleven hundred Hides of brown Cows, shapen like the tail of a Keeling.

For his Coat were taken up Eighteen hundred Ells of blew Velvet, died in grain, embroidered in
its Borders with fair Gilli|flowers, in the middle decked with silver Purle, intermixed with plates
of Gold, and store of Pearls, hereby shewing, that in his 29 time he would prove an especial good
Fellow, and singular Whip can.
 90

His Girdle was made of Three hundred Ells and a half of silken Serge, half white and half blew,
if I mistake it not. His Sword was not of Valentia, nor his Dagger of Saragosa, for his Father
could not endure these Hidalgos borrachos maranisados como dia|blos; but he had a fair Sword
made of Wood, and the Dagger of boiled Leather, as well painted and gilded as any Man could
wish.

His Purse was made of the Cod of an Ele|phant, which was given him by Herre Praecon|tal,
Proconsul of Lybia.

For his Gown were employed Nine thou|sand six hundred Ells, wanting two thirds, of blew
Velvet, as before, all so diagonally purled, that by true perspective issued thence an unnamed
Colour, like that you see in the Necks of Turtle-doves or Turkey-cocks, which wonderfully
rejoyceth the Eyes of the Beholders. For his Bonnet or Cap were taken up Three hundred two
Ells, and a Quarter of white Velvet, and the form thereof was wide and round, of the bigness of
his Head; for his Father said, that the Caps of the Mirabaise fashion, made like the Cover of a
Pasty, would one time or other bring a mischief on those that wore them. For his Plume, he wore
a fair great blew Feather, plucked from an Onocrotal of the 30 Country of Hircania the wild,
very prettily hanging down over his right Ear: For the Jewel or broach which in his Cap he
carried, he had in a Cake of Gold, weighing three|score and eight Marks, a fair piece of
Ena|mell'd, wherein was portrayed a Man's Bo|dy with two Heads, looking towards one an|other,
four Arms, four Feet, two Arses, such as Plato in Symposio says, was the mysti|cal beginning of
Man's Nature; and about it was written in Ionic Letters, [...].

To wear about his Neck, he had a golden Chain, weighing Twenty five thousand and sixty three
Marks of Gold, the link thereof being made after the manner of great Ber|ries, amongst which
were set in work green Jaspers ingraven, and cut Dragon like, all invironed with Beams and
Sparks, as King Nicepsos of old was wont to wear them, and it reached down to the very bust of
the rising of his Belly, whereby he reaped great benefit all his life long, as the Greek Physicians
knew well enough. For his Gloves were put in work sixteen Otters Skins, and three of Laugarous
or Men-eating Wolves, for the bordering of them: And of this stuff were they made, by the
appointment of the Cabalists of Sanlono. As for the Rings which his Father would have him to
wear to renew the ancient mark of Nobility: He had on the fore-finger of his left hand a
Carbuncle 31 as big as an Ostrige's Egg, inchased very daintily in Gold of the fineness of a
Turkie Seraph. Upon the middle finger of the same hand, he had a Ring made of four Metals
together, of the strongest fashion that ever was seen; so that the steel did not crash a|gainst the
Gold, nor the Silver crush the Copper. All this was made by Captain Chap|pins, and Alcofribas
his Operator. On the Medical Finger of his Right-hand, he had a Ring made Spire-ways, wherein
was set a perfect baleu Ruby, a pointed Diamond, and a Poison Emerauld of an inestimable
Value; for Hans-carvel the King of Milinda's Jeweller, esteemed them at the rate of Threescore
nine Millions eight hundred ninety four thousand and eighteen French Crowns of Berrie, and at
so much did the Iews of Auspurg prize them.

CHAP. IX. The Colours and Liveries of Gar|gantua.

 91

GArgantua's Colours were White and Blew, as I have shewed you before, by which his Father
would give us to understand, that his Son to him was a heavenly Joy, for the White did signifie
Gladness, Pleasure, 32 Delight and Rejoicing, and the Blew, Cele|lestial things. I know well
enough, that in reading this you laugh at the old Toaper, and hold this Exposition of Colours to
be very extravagant, and utterly disagreeable to reason, because White is said to signifie Faith,
and Blew Constancy. But without moving, vexing, heating, or putting you in a chase (for the
Weather is dangerous) an|swer me if it please you; for no other compulsory way of arguing will I
use to|wards you, or any else; only now and then I will mention a word or two of my Bottle.

What is it that induceth you? What stirs you up to believe, or who told you that White signifieth
Faith; and Blew Constancy? An old paultry Book, say you, sold by the hawking Pedlars and
Balladmongers, En|tituled, The Blason of Colours: Who made it? Whoever it was, he was wise
in that he did not set his Name to it; I know not what I should rather admire in him, his
Presumption, or his Folly. His Presumption, for that he should without Reason, without Cause,
or with|out any appearance of Truth, have dared to prescribe by private Authority, what things
should be denoted and signified by the Co|lour. Which is the Custom of Tyrants, who will have
their Will to bear sway instead of Equity; and not of the Wise and Learn|ed, who with the
evidence of Reason satis|fie their Readers.

33 His Folly and want of Wit, in that he thought, that without any other demonstra|tion or
sufficient Argument the World would be pleased to make his blockish and ridicu|lous
Impositions, the rule of their Devices. In effect, according to the Proverb, To shitten Tails, Turd
never fails; he hath found (it seems) some simple Ninny in those rude times of old, when high
Bonnet were in fashion; who gave some trust to his Wri|tings, according to which they shaped
their Apophthegms and Mottos, trapped and capa|risoned their Mules and Sumpter-horses,
ap|parelled their Pages, quarter'd their Breeches, bordered their Gloves, fring'd the Courtains and
Vallens of their Beds, painted their En|signs, composed Songs, and which is worse, placed many
deceitful juglings, and unwor|thy base tricks clandestinely, amongst the chastest Matrons. In the
like darkness and mist of Ignorance, are wrapped up these vain-glorious Courtiers, and name-
transposers, who going about in their Impresa's, to signifie Espoir, hath portrayed a Sphere:
Birds Pens for Pins: Ancholie for Melancholy: A horned Moon or Cressant, to shew the
increasing of ones Fortune: A Bench broken, to signifie Bankrupt: Non, and a corslet for non dur
habit, otherwise non durabit, it shall not last: Vn lit san ciel, for Vn licenciè; which are
Equivo|cals so absurd and witless, so barbarous and clownish, that a Fox's Tail should be pinned
34 at his Back, and a Fool's Cap be given to every one that should henceforth offer, after the
restitution of Learning, to make use of any such Fopperies in France.

By the same Reasons (if Reasons I should call them, and not Ravings rather) might I cause paint
a painer, to signifie that I am in pain: a Pot of Mustard, that my Heart is much tardy; one pissing
upwards for a Bishop; the bottom of a pair of Breeches for a Vessel full of Farthings; a Codpiece
(as the English bears it) for the Tail of a Cod-fish; and a Dog's Turd, for the dainty Turret,
wherein lies the Love of my Sweet-heart.

Far otherwise did heretofore the Sages of Aegypt, when they wrote by Letters, which they called
Hieroglyphics, which none un|derstood who were not skilled in the Vertue, Property and Nature
of the Things repre|sented by them: Of which Orus Apollon hath in Greek composed two Books,
 92

and Polyphilus in his Dream of Love set down more: In France you have a taste of them, in the
Device or Impresa of my Lord Admiral, which was carried before that time by Octavian
Augustus. But my little Skiff amongst these unpleasant Gulfs and Shoals, will sail no further,
there|fore must I return to the Port from whence I came; yet do I hope one Day to write more at
large of these things, and to shew both by Philosophical Arguments and Au|thorities, received
and approved of, by and 35 from all Antiquity, what, and how many Colours there are in Nature,
and what may be signified by every one of them, if God save the mould of my Cap, which is my
best Wine-pot, as my Grandam said.

CHAP. X. Of that which is signified by the Co|lours, White and Blew.

THe White therefore signifieth Joy, So|lace and Gladness, and that not at ran|dom, but upon just
and very good Grounds; Which you may perceive to be true, if laying aside all prejudicate
Affections, you will but give ear, to what presently I shall expound unto you.

Aristotle saith, That supposing two things, contrary in their kind, as Good and Evil, Vertue and
Vice, Heat and Cold, White and Black, Pleasure and Pain, Joy and Grief: And so of others, if you
couple them in such man|ner, that the contrary of one kind may a|gree in reason with the contrary
of the other; it must follow by consequence, that the other contrary must answer to the remanent
opposite to that wherewith it is conferred; as for ex|amples, Vertue and Vice are contrary in one
kind, so are Good and Evil; if one of the con|traries 36 of the first kind, be consonant to one of
those of the second, as Vertue and Goodness, for it is clear that Vertue is good, so shall the other
two contraries (which are Evil and Vice) have the same connexion, for Vice is evil.

This Logical Rule being understood, take these two contraries, Joy and Sadness; then these other
two, White and Black, for they are Physically contrary: If so be then that Black do signifie Grief,
by good reason then should White import Joy. Nor is this signification in|stituted by human
Imposition, but by the uni|versal consent of the World received, which Philosophers call Ius
Gentium, the Law of Na|tions, or an uncontroulable right, of force in all Countreys whatsoever;
for you know well enough, that all People and all Languages and Nations (except the ancient
Syracusans, and certain Argives, who had cross and thwarting Souls) when they mean outwardly
to give e|vidence of their sorrow, go in Black; and all mourning is done with Black, which
general consent is not without some Argument and Reason in Nature, the which every Man may
by himself very suddenly comprehend, with|out the Instruction of any; and this we call the Law
of Nature; By vertue of the same natural Instinct, we know that by White all the World hath
understood Joy, Gladness, Mirth, Pleasure and Delight.

37 In former times, the Thracians and Grecians did mark their good, propitious and fortunate
days with white stones; and their sad, dismal and unfortunate ones with black; is not the night
mournful, sad and melancholic? it is black and dark by the privation of light; doth not the light
comfort all the World? and it is more white than any thing else, which to prove, I could direct
you to the book of Lau|rentius Valla against Bartolus, but an Evangeli|cal Testimony I hope will
content you, Mat. 7. it is said, that at the transfiguration of our Lord, Vestimenta ejus facta sunt
 93

alba sicut lux, his apparel was made white like the light; by which lightsom whiteness he gave
his three A|postles to understand the Idea and figure of the eternal Joys· for by the light are all
Men comforted, according to the Word of the old Woman, who although she had never a tooth in
her head, was wont to say, Bona lux: and Tobit, chap. 5. after he had lost his sight, when Raphael
saluted him, answered, What Ioy can I have, that do not see the Light of Heaven? In that colour
did the Angels testifie the Joy of the whole World, at the Resurrection of our Saviour, Iohn 20.
and at his Ascension, Acts 1. with the like colour of Vesture did St. Iohn the Evangelist, Apoc.
4.7. see the faithful Clo|thed in the Heavenly and Blessed Ieru|salem.

Read the Ancient both Greek and Latin Histories, and you shall find that the Town of 38 Alba
(the first Patron of Rome) was founded, and so Named by Reason of a White Sow, that was seen
there. You shall likewise find in those stories, that when any Man, after he had Vanquished his
Enemies, was by decree of the Senate, to enter into Rome, triumphantly, he usually rode in a
Chariot, drawn by White-Horses: Which in the Ovation, Triumph, was also the custom; for by no
sign or colour would they so significantly express the Joy of their coming, as by the White: You
shall there also find, how Paricles, the Generals of the Athenians, would needs have that part of
his Army, unto whose Lot befel the White Beans, to spend the whole Day in Mirth, Pleasure and
Ease, whilst the rest were a Fighting. A thousand other Examples and Places could I alledge to
this Purpose, but that it is not here, where, I should do it.

By understanding hereof, you may re|solve one Problem, which Alexander Aphro|diseus hath
accounted unanswerable, why the Lion who with his only Cry and Roaring, affrights all Beasts,
dreads and feareth only a White Cock? for (as Proclus saith, libro de Sacrificio & Magia,) it is
because the Presence, of the Vertue, of the Sun; which is the Or|gan and Promptuarie, of all
terrestrial and Syderial light doth more Symbolize, and agree with a White Cock, as well in
regard of that colour, as of his Property and Specifical qua|lity, then with a Lion. He saith
further|more, 39 that Devils have been often seen in the shape of Lions, which at the sight of a
White Cock have presently vanished. This is the cause why the Gauli, Gauls or Galathians (so
are the Frenchmen called, because they are naturally white as Milk, which the Greeks call Gala)
do willingly wear in their Caps white Feathers; for by Nature they are of a candid disposition,
merry, kind, gracious and well-beloved, and for their Cognizance and Arms have the whitest
Flower of any, the Flower de Luce or Lilie.

If you demand, how by White, Nature would have us understand Joy and Gladness? I answer,
that the Analogy and Uniformity is thus, for as the White doth outwardly disperse and scatter the
rays of the Sight, whereby the Optic Spirits are manifestly dis|solved, according to the Opinion
of Aristotle in his Problems and perspective Treatises; as you may likewise perceive by
Experience, when you pass over Mountains covered with Snow, how you will complain that you
can|not see well! as Xenophon writes to have hap|pened to his Men, and as Galen very largely
declareth, lib. 10. de usu partium: Just so the Heart with excessive Joy is inwardly dilated, and
suffereth a manifest dissolution of the vital Spirits; which may go so far on, that it may thereby
be deprived of its Nourishment, and by consequence of Life it self. By this Pericharie or
extremity of Gladness, as Galen 40 saith, lib. 12. method. lib. 5. de locis affectis, & lib. 2. de
symptomatum causis. And as it hath come to pass in former times, witness Marcus Tullius lib. 1.
quaest. Tuscui. Verrius, A|ristotle, Titus Livius in his relation of the Battle of Canna, Plinius lib.
7. cap. 32. & 34. A. Gellius lib. 3. cap. 15. and many other Wri|ters of Diagoras the Rhodian,
 94

Chilon, Sophocles, Dionysius the Tyrant of Sicily, Philippides, Phi|lemon, Polycrates, Philipion,
M. Iuventi; and others who died with Joy, and as Avicen speak|eth, in 2. Canon. & lib. de virib.
cordis, of the Saffron, that it doth so rejoice the Heart, that if you take of it excessively, it will by
an ex|cessive dissolution and dilatation, deprive it altogether of Life, Here peruse Alex.
Aphrodi|seus lib. 1. Probl. cap. 19. and that for a cause: But what? it seems I am entred further
into this point then I intended at the first: here therefore will I strike Sail, referring the rest to that
Book of mine, which handleth this matter to the full. Mean while, in a word I will tell you, that
Blew doth certainly signi|fie Heaven and heavenly Things, by the same very tokens and symbols,
that White signifieth Joy and Pleasure.

41

CHAP. XI. Of the youthful age of Gargantua.

GArgantua, from three Years upwards unto five, was brought up and Instruct|ed, in all
Convenient Discipline, by the Commandment of his Father; and spent that time like the other
little Child[...]en of the Countrey; that is, in Drinking, Eating and Sleeping, in Eating, Sleeping
and Drinking, and in Sleeping, Drinking and Eating: Still he wallowed and rowled up and down
him|self in the mire, and dirt; he blurred and sullied his nose with Filth, he blotted and smutch't
his Face with any kind of nasty stuffe, he trode down his Shooes in the Heel, lay with his Mouth
open to Catch Gnats, and ran a hawking after the Butterflies; the Empire whereof belonged to his
Father. He pissed in his Shoes, shit in his Shirt, and wiped his nose on his sleeve: He did let his
Snot and Snivel fall in his Pottage, and dabled, padled and slabbered every where. He would
drink in his Slipper, and ordinarily rub his Belly against a Pa|nier: He wou'd pick his Teeth, with
a wooden Shoe; wipe his breech with his Finger, washed his Hands in his Broth, and combed his
Head with a broken Ladle. 42 He would sit down betwixt two stools and his Arse to the ground;
would cover himself with a wet sack, drink in his Potage, gnaw the bone he cou'd not swallow,
eat his Cake without bread, bite laughing, and laugh biteing, spit in the dish, fart in his fist, piss
against the wind; and hide himself in the Water for fear of Rain: He would strike before the Iron
was hot, would blow in the dust till it fill'd his Eyes: Be often in the dumps, and frig and wriggle
it. He would flay the Fox, say the Apes Paternoster, would Run at Mutton, and turn the Hogs to
the Hay. He would beat the Dogs before the Lion; put the Plough be|fore the Oxen; and claw
where it did not itch. He would leap before he looked, at Midsummer-Moon, spend his
Michaelmas Rent: And take misreckoning for good payment. By griping, all would hold fast
nothing, and always eat his white bread first. He shoo'd the Geese, tickled himself to make
himself laugh, was Cook-Ruffing in the Kitching, would sing Magnificat at Matines, and found it
was an Enemy of God, would turn to ac|count. He would eat Cabbage, and shite Col|ly-flowers;
catch Fish in a Dish of Milk, and make them all Cripples: He would tear the Paper: Race the
Records, then trust his heels for his security: He would pull at the Kids-leather, or vomit up his
Dinner, then reckon without his Host: He would beat the Bushes 43 without catching the Birds,
thought the Moon was made of green Cheese, and that every thing was Gold that glisters. He
would soon|er go to the Mill than to Mass; took a Bit in the Morning to be better than nothing all
day; would eat his Cake and have his Cake; and was better fed than taught; he always look|ed a
given Horse in the Mouth; would tell a Tale of a Tub; throw the Helm after the Hatchet; when
 95

the Steed was stoln, would shut the Stable-door, and bring his Hogs to a Fair Market: By robbing
Peter he payed Paul, he kept the Moon from Wolves, and was ready to catch Larks, if ever the
Heavens should fall: He did make of Necessity Ver|tue, of such Bread such Pottage, and cared as
little for the peeled as for the shaven: Every Morning he did cast up his gorge, his Fathers little
Dogs eat out of the Dish with him, and he with them: He would bite their Ears, and they would
scratch his Nose: He would blow in their Arses, and they would lick his chaps.

But hearken good Fellows, may ye be sick of the Mulligrubs, with eating chopt Hay, if now ye
do not listen: This little Lecher was always groping his Nurses and Governesses, upside down,
arswise, topsiturvy, harribourr quet, with a Yacco haic, hyck-gio, hand|ling them very rudely in
jumbling and tumb|ling them to keep them going; for he had already begun to exercise the Tools,
and put 44 the Codpiece in practice; which Codpiece his Governesses did every day deck up and
adorn with fair Nosegays, curious Ribbans, sweet Flowers, and fine silken Tufts, and very
pleasantly would pass their time, in ta|king, you know what, between their Fingers, and dandling
it like a little Baby; then did they burst out in laughing, when they saw it lift up its ears, as if the
sport had liked them. One of them would call it her Pilli|cock, her Fiddle-diddle, her Staff of
Love, her Tickle-gizzard, her Gentle-tilter. Ano|ther, her Sugar-plum, her Kingo, her old Rowley,
her Touch-tripe, her Flap-dowdle. Another again, her Branch of Coral, her Placket-racket, her
Cyprian Scepter, her Tit bit, her Bob Lady. And some of the other Women would give these
Names, My Roger, my Cockatoo, my Nimble-wimble, Bush-beater, Claw-buttock, Eves-dropper,
Pick-lock, Pioneer, Bully-ruffin, Smell-smock, Trouble-gusset, my lusty Live Saucage, my
Crimson Chitterlin, Rump-splitter, Shove-devel, downright to't, stiff and stout, in and to, at-her-
agen, my Cony-borow-ferret, Wily-beguiley, my pretty Rogue; It belongs to me, said one: It is
mine, said the other: What, quoth a third, shall I have no share in it? by my faith I will cut it off
then, Ha, to cut it off, (said the other,) would be a scurvy business: Madam, is it your way to cut
off little Childrens things; were his cut off, he 45 would be then Master bob, that he might play
and sport himself, after the manner of the other little Children of the Country, they made him a
goodly whirle-gig of the wings of the windmil of Myrebalais.

CHAP. XII. Of Gargantua's wooden Horses.

AFterwards, that he might be all his life|time a good Rider, they made for him a fair great Horse
of wood, which he did make leap, curvet, yerk out behind, and skip forwards, all at a time, to
pace, trot, rack, gallop, amble, to play the hobbie, the hackney-guelding, go the gate of the
Camel, and of the wild Asss: He made him also change his colour of Hair, as the Monks of
Coultibo (according to the variety of their holy-days) use to do their Clothes, from Bay, Brown,
to Sorrel, Daple-gray, Mouse-dun, Deer-colour, Roan, cow-colour, gingioline, skued-colour,
pybal'd, and the colour of the savage Elk.

Himself of an huge big post, made a hun|ting Nag; and another for daily service, of the beam of a
Vine-press; and of a great Oak, made up a Mule, with housson for his Chamber. Besides this, he
had ten or twelve spare 46 Horses and seven Horses for post; and all these were lodged in his
own Chamber, close by his bed-side. One day the Lord of Breadinbag, came to visit Gargantua's
 96

Father; in great bravery, and with a gallant train; and at the same time, to see him, came likewise
the Duke of Frie meale, and the Earle of Wet|gullet. The House, truly for so many guests at once
was somewhat narrow, but especial|ly the Stables. Whereupon the Stewards and Gentlemen of
Horse to the Lord Breadinbag (to know if there were any other empty stables in the house;) came
to Gargantua, a little young lad, and secretly asked him where the Stables of the great Horses
were, think|ing that Children would be ready to tell all. And then he led them up along the stairs
of the Castle, passing by the second Hall unto a broad great Gallery, by which they entered into a
large Tower, and as they were going up at another pair of stairs, said the Gentle|man of Horse to
the Steward, this Child de|ceives us, for the Stables are never on the top of the House. You may
be mistaken (said the Steward,) for I know some places at Lyons, at the Basmette, at Chaunon,
and elsewhere, which have their Stables at the very tops of the Houses; so it may be, that behind
the Houses there is a way to come to this ascent; but I will question him further: Then said he to
Gargantua, my pretty little boy, whither do you lead us? to the stable (said he) of my great
Horss, 47 we are almost come to it, we have but these stairs to go up at; then leading them along
another great Hall, he brought them into his chamber, and opening the door said unto them, this
is the stable that you ask for, this is my gennet, this is my gelding, this is my courser, and this my
pad; and laid on them with a great Cudgel, I will bestow upon you (said he) this Frizeland horse:
I had him from Francfort, yet will I give him you; for he is a pretty little Nag, and will go very
well, with a Cast of Gosehawk, half a dozen Spa|niels, and a Brace of Grey-hounds; thus are you
King of the Hares and Patridges for all this Winter. By St. Iohn (said they) what a couple of Puts
has he made us? what Mon|keys? Hold, hold, Gentlemen, said he, you must show your Tails 'ere
ye pass for Mon|keys. Judge you now, whether they had most cause, either to hide their heads for
shame, or to laugh for company; as they were going down again thus amazed, he asked them,
Will you have a whimwham? What is that, said they? It is (said he) five turds to make you a
muzzel: To day (said the Steward) though we happen to be rosted, we shall not be burnt, for we
are pretty well basted and larded in my opinion. O my jolly daper boy, thou hast given us a
Gudgeon, I hope to see thee Pope before I die: I think so (said he) my self; and then shall you be
a Puppy, and this gentle po|pinjeay pop into some Office under me. Well, 48 well (said the
Gentleman of the Horse.) But (said Gargantua) guess how many stitches there are in my
Mothers Smock: Sixteen (quoth the Gentleman) You do not speak Gospel (said Gargantua) for
there is sent before, and sent be|hind, and you did reckon them ill, considering the two under
holes: When (said the Gentleman) Even then (said Gargantua) when they made a shovel of your
Nose to take up a quarter of dirt, and of your Throat a Funnel, wherewith to put it into another
Vessel, because the bottom of the old one was out. Cocksbod (said the ste|ward) we have met
with a Prater. Farewel (Master tatler) God keep you from harm, now your mouth is so mellow.

Thus going down in great haste, under the Arch of the Stairs, they let fall the great Leaver,
vvhich he had put upon their backs; vvhereupon Gargantua said, vvhat a Divel, you are (it
seems) but bad horsemen, that suffer your bilder to fail you, vvhen you need him most. If you
vvere to go from hence to Chau|sas, vvhether had you rather ride on a Goose, or lead a Sow in a
Leash? I had rather drink (said the Gentleman of Horse) vvith this they entered into the
lower[...]Hall, vvhere the com|pany was, and relating to them this new Story, made them laugh
like a swarm of Flies.
 97

49

CHAP. XIII. How Gargantua's wonderful Under|standing became known to his Father
Grangousier, by the Invention of a Torchcul, or Wipe-breech.

ABout the end of the Fifth Year, Gran|gousier returning from the Conquest of the Canarians,
went by the way to see his Son Gargantua; there was he filled with Joy, as such a Father might
be at the sight of such a Child of his. And whilst he kist him and embrac'd him, he asked many
childish Questions of him about divers mat|ters, and drank very freely with him and with his
Governesses, of whom in great ear|nest, he asked among other things, whether they had been
careful to keep him clean and sweet? To this Gargantua answered, that he had taken such a
course for that himself, that in all the Country there was not to be found a cleanlier Boy then he.
How is that (said Grangousier) I have (answer'd Gargantua) by a long and curious Experience
found out a means to wipe my Bum, the most Lordly, the most Excellent, and the most
Convenient that ever was seen: What is it? (said Gran|gousier) how is it? I will tell you by and
by (said Gargantua) once I did wipe me with a 50 Gentlewomans Velvet Mask, and found it to
be good; for the softness of the Silk was very voluptuous and pleasant to my Funda|ment.
Another time with one of their Hoods, and in like manner that was comfortable: At another time
with a Ladies Neck-kerchief, and after that I wiped me with some ear-pieces of hers made of
crimson Sattin, but there was such a number of golden Spangles in them (turdy round things, a
Pox take them) that they fetched away all the Skin off my Tail with a vengeance. Now I wish St.
An|thony's Fire burn the Bumgut of the Gold|smith that made them, and of her that wore them.
This hurt I cured by wiping my self with a Pages Cap, garnished with a Feather after the Switzers
fashion.

Afterwards, in dunging behind a bush, I found a March-Cat, and with it wiped my Breech, but
her Claws were so sharp that they scratched and exulcerated all my Perinee; of this I recovered
the next Morning there|after, by wiping my self with my Mother's Gloves, of a most excellent
Perfume and Scent of the Arabian Benin. After that I wiped me with Sage, with Fennil, with
Anet, with Marjoram, with Roses, with Gourd-Leaves, with Beets, with Colewort, with Leaves
of the Vine-tree, with Mallows, Wool-blade (which is a Tail-scarlet) with Lettice and with
Spinage Leaves. All this did very great good to my Leg. Then 51 with Mercury, with Pursly,
with Nettles, with Comfrey; but that gave me the Bloody Flux of Lumbardy, which I healed by
wiping me with my Braguette. Then I wiped my Tail in the Sheets, in the Coverlet, in the
Curtains, with a Cushion, with Arras Hang|ings, with a green Carpet, with a Table-cloath, with a
Napkin, with a Handkerchief, with a Combing-cloath, in all which I found more Pleasure than do
the Mangy Dogs when you rub them. Yea, but (said Gran|gousier) which Torchecul didst thou
find to be the best? I was coming to it (said Gargantua) and by and by shall you hear the tu
autem, and know the whole Mystery and Knot of the Matter. I wiped my self with Hay, with
Straw, with Thatch-rushes, with Flax, with Wooll, with Paper; but,

Tousiours laisse aux couillons esmorche,

Qui son ord cul de papier torche.
 98

Who his foul Tail with paper wipes,

Shall at his Ballocks leave some chips.

What (said Grangousier) my little Rogue, hast thou been at the Pot, that thou dost rhime already?
Yes, yes, my Lord the King (an|swered Gargantua) I can rhime out of mea|sure; I can rhime and
chime, and clink till I stink agen. Hark what our Privy says to the Skiters:
52
Shittard
Squirtard
Crackard
Turdous,
Thy bung
Hath flung
Some dung
On us.
Filthard
Cackard
Stinkard,
St. Anthony fire thy Arse|bone,
If thy
Dirty
Toby
Thou do not wipe e'er thou be gone.

Will you have any more of it? Yes, yes (answer'd Grangousier.) Then said Gargantua,

A Roundlay.

A shiting, I found yesterday

The Tax I to my Arse should pay;
The Bung-hole breath'd so vile a funk,
That one would wonder how I stunk:
O had but then some brave Signior
Brought her to me I waited for,
A shiting.
53 I would have cleft her Watergap,
And joyn'd it close to my Flipflap;
Whilst she had with her Fingers guarded
My foul Nockandrow, all bemerded
A shiting.
 99

Now say that I can do nothing, by the Merdi, they are not of my making, but I heard them of this
good old Grandam, that you see here, and ever since have retained them in the Budget of my
Memory.

Let us return to our Business, said Gran|gousier: What (said Gargantua) to skite? No (said
Grangousier) but to wipe our Tail: But (said Gargantua) will not you be con|tent to pay a
Punchion of Britton-Wine, if I do not blank and gravel you in this matter, and put you to a non-
plus? Yes truely, said Grangousier.

There is no need of wiping ones Tail (said Gargantua) but when it is foul; foul it cannot be
unless one have been a skiting; skite then we must before we wipe our Tails. O my pretty little
waggish Boy (said Grangousier) what an excellent Wit thou hast? I will make thee very shortly
proceed Do|ctor in the Belles Lettres, and by G---, for thou hast more Wit than Age.

Now, I prethee, go on in this Bumfodder Discourse; and, by my Beard, I swear, for one
Puncheon thou shall have threescore Pipes, 54 I mean of the good Breton Wine, not that which
grows in Britain, but in the good Country of Verron. Afterwards I wiped my Bum (said
Gargantua) with a Kerchief, with a Pillow, with a Pantoufle, with a Pouch, with a Panier, but
that was a wicked and unplea|sant wipe-Breech; then with a Hat; of Hats, note that some are
shorn, and others shaggy, some velveted, others cover'd with taffities and others with sattin, the
best of all these is the shaggy Hat, for it makes a very neat abstersion of the fecal matter.

Afterwards I wiped my Tail with a Hen, with a Cock, with a Pullet, with a Calves Skin, with a
Hare, with a Pigeon, with a Cormorant, with an Attorney's Bag, with a Montero, with a Coif,
with a Faulconer's Lure; but to conclude, I say and maintain· that of all Torcheculs, Arsewisps,
Bumfodders, Tail-napkins, Bunghole-cleansers and wipe-breeches, there is none in the World
com|parable to the Neck of a Goose, that is well douned, if you hold her head betwixt your Legs:
And believe me therein upon mine Ho|nour; for you will thereby feel in your Nockhole a most
wonderful pleasure, both in regard of the softness of the said Doun, and of the temperate heat of
the Goose; which is easily communicated to the Bumgut, and the rest of the Intestines, insofar as
to come even to the Regions of the Heart and Brains.

55 And think not, that the Felicity of the Heroes and Demigods in the Elysian Fields, con|sisteth
either in their Asphodele, Ambrosia, or Nectar, as our old Women here use to say; but in this
(according to my judgment) that they wipe their Tails with the Neck of a Goose, holding her
Head betwixt their Legs, and such is the Opinion of Master Iohn of Scotland.

CHAP. XIV. How Gargantua was taught Latin by a Sophister.

THE good Man Grangousier, having heard this discourse, was ravish'd with Admiration,
considering the high reach, and marvellous understanding of his Son Gar|gantua, and said to his
Governesses. Philip King of Macedon knew the great Wit of his Son Alexander, by his skilful
managing of a Horse; for his Horse Bucephalus was so fierce and unruly, that none durst
 100

adventure to ride him; after that he had given to his Ri|ders such devillish falls, breaking the
Neck of this Man, the other Man's Leg, braining one, and cracking another's Jaw-bone. This by
Alexander being considered, one day in the Hippodrome (which was a place appointed for 56 the
breaking and managing of great Horses) he perceived that the fury of the Horse pro|ceeded
meerly from the fear he had of his own shadow; whereupon getting on his back, he run him
against the Sun, so that the sha|dow fell behind, and by that means tamed the Horse, and brought
him to his hand. Whereby his Father perceiving his marvel|lous Capacity and divine Insight,
caused him most carefully to be instructed by Aristotle; who at that time was highly renowned
above all the Philosophers of Greece. After the same manner, I tell you, that by this only
dis|course, which now I have here had before you with my Son Gargantua; I know that his
Understanding doth participate of some Divinity; and that if he be well taught, and have that
Education which is fitting, he will attain to a supream degree of Wisdom. There|fore will I
commit him to some learned Man, to have him indoctrinated according to his Capacity, and will
spare no cost.

Presently they appointed him a great So|phister-Doctor, called Master Tubal Holo|phernes, who
taught him his ABC, so well, that he could say it by heart backwards; and about this he was Five
Years and three Months.

Then read he to him, Donat, facet, theo|dolet, and Alanus in parabolis: About this he was
Thirteen Years six Months and two Weeks. But you must remark, that in the 57 mean time he did
learn to write in Gottish Characters, and that he wrote all his Books; for the Art of Printing was
not then in use.

And did ordinarily carry a great Pen and Inkhorn, weighing above Seven thousand Quintals, the
Pen-case vvhereof vvas as big and as long as the great Pillar of Enay; and the Horn vvas hanged
to it in great Iron Chains, it being of the vvideness to hold a Tun of Merchand Ware.

After that vvas read unto him the Book de modis significandi, with the Commentaries of
Hurtbise, of Fasquin, of Tropifeu, of Gaulhaut, of Iohn Calf, of Billonio, of Berlinguandus, and
a rabble of others; and herein he spent more then Eighteen Years and eleven Months, and was so
well versed therein, that to try Masteries in School-disputes with his Condis|ciples, he would
recite it by heart backwards: And did sometimes prove on his Fingers ends to his Mother, Quod
de modis significandi non erat scientia. Then was read to him the Com|post, on which he spent
Sixteen Years and two Months. And at that very time, which was in the Year 1420, his said
Praeceptor died of the Pox.

Afterwards he got an old coughing Fellow to teach him, named Master Iobelin Bridé, vvho read
unto him Hugotio, Flebard, Grecism, the Doctrinal, the Pars, the Quid est, the Sup|plementum,
Marmoretus de moribus in mensa ser|vandis, Seneca de quatuor virtutibus cardinalibus, 58
Passaventus cum commento; and Dormi securè for the Holy-days, and other such llke stuff; by
reading vvhereof he became as vvise as any vve ever since baked in an Oven.
 101

CHAP. XV. How Gargantua was put under other School-masters.

AT the last his Father perceived, that indeed he studied hard, and that al|though he spent all his
time therein, yet for all that did he profit nothing; but vvhich is worse, grew thereby a Fool, a
Sot, a Doult and Block-head; whereof making a heavy complaint to Don Philip of Marays,
Viceroy of Papeligosse, he found that it were better for his Son to learn nothing at all, then to be
taught such like Books, under such School-masters, because their Knowledge was no|thing but
all Trifle, and their Wisdom Fop|pery, serving only to basterdize good and noble Spirits, and to
corrupt the Flower of Youth. That it is so, take (said he) any Young Boy of this time, who hath
only stu|died two Years; if he have not a better Judgment, a better Discourse, and that ex|pressed
in better Terms then your Son, with a compleater Carriage and Civility to all 59 manner of
persons, account me for ever hereafter a very clounch, and baconslicer of Brene. This pleased
Grangousier very well and he commanded that it should be done.

At night at supper, the said Don Philip brought in a young Page of his, of Ville-gouges, called
Eudemon, so neat, so trim, so handsom in his Ap|parel, so spruce, with his Hair in so good
Or|der, and so sweet and comely in his behaviour, that he had the resemblance of a little Angel
more than of a human Creature. Then he said to Grangousier, Do you see this young Boy? He is
not as yet full twelve years old; let us try (if it like you) what difference there is be|twixt the
knowledge of the Dunces Mateologi|an of old time, and the young Lads that are now. The Tryal
pleased Grangousier, and he commanded the Page to begin. Then Eude|mon, asking leave of the
Vice-Roy his Master, so to do, vvith his Cap in his hand, a clear and open countenance, beautiful
and ruddy Lips, his Eyes steady, and his Looks fixed upon Gar|gantua, with a youthful modesty;
standing up strait on his feet, began to commend him; first for his Vertue and good Manners;
se|condly for his knowledg; thirdly, for his No|bility; fourthly, for his bodily accomplishments;
and in the fifth place, most sweetly exhorted him to reverence his Father with all due
ob|servancy, vvho was so careful to have him well brought up; in the end he prayed him, that he
vvould vouchsafe to admit of him amongst 60 the least of his Servants; for other Favour at that
time desired he none of Heaven, but that he might do him some grateful and acceptable Service;
all this was by him delivered vvith such proper gestures, such distinct Pronuncia|tion, so pleasant
a Delivery, in such exqui|site fine Terms, and so good Latin, that he see|med rather a Gracchus, a
Cicero, an Aemilius of the time past, then a youth of this Age. But all the countenance that
Gargantua kept was, that he fell to crying like a Cow, and cast down his Face, hiding it with his
Cap, nor could they possibly draw one word from him, no more than a Fart from a dead Ass.

Whereat his Father vvas so grievously ve|xed, that he vvould have killed Master Iobe|lin, but the
said Don Philip vvith-held him from it by fair persuasions, so that at length he pacifyed his
Wrath. Then Grangousier com|manded he should be payed his Wages, that they should wittle
him up soundly, Sophister-like, and then give him to all the Devils in Hell: At least (said he) to
day, shall it not cost him much to his Host, if by chance he should dye as drunk as an
Englishman. Master Iobe|lin being gone out of the house, Grangousier consulted vvith the
Viceroy vvhat Schoo[...]-master they should choose for him, and it vvas be|twixt them resolv'd,
that Ponocrates the Tu|tor of Eudemon should have the charge, and that they should go
altogether to Paris, to know what vvas the study of the young Men of France at that time.
 102

61

CHAP. XVI. How Gargantua was sent to Paris, and of the huge great Mare that he rode on;
How she destroyed the Oxe-flies of the Beauce.

IN the same season Fayoles, the fourth King of Numidia, sent out of the Country of Africk to
Grangousier, the most hideously great Mare that ever vvas seen, and of the strangest Form (for
you know vvell enough) how it is said, that Africk always is productive of some new thing. She
was as big as six Elephants, and had her feet cloven, into toes, like Iulius Caesars horse, with
slouch-hanging ears, like the goats in Languedoc, and a little horn on her buttock, she was of a
burnt sorel hue, with a little mixture of daple gray spots, but above all she had a horrible tail; for
it was little more or less, then every whit, as great as the Steeple of St. Mark besides Langes; and
squared as that is, with tuffs and hair plaits, wrought within one another, no otherwise then as the
beards are upon the ears of corn.

If you wonder at this, wonder rather at the Tails of the Scythian Rams, which weighed above
thirty pounds each, and of the Su[...]ian Sheep, who need (if [...]enaud say true) a little 62 cart at
their heels to bear up their Tail, it is so long and heavy. You Country wenches have no such
Tails: And she was brought by Sea in three Carricks and a Brigantine unto the Harbour of Olone
in Thalmondois. When Gran|gousier saw her, Here is (said he) vvhat is fit to carry my Son to
Paris. So now, in the name of God, all vvill be vvell, he vvill one day be a great Scholar; vvere it
not for Dunces, vve should all be Doctors. The next Morning (after they had drunk, you must
understand) they took their Journey; Gargantua, his Pedagogue, Ponoorates, and their Equipage,
and with them Eudemon, the young Page; and because the weather was fair and temperate, his
Fa|ther caused to be made him a pair of dun boots; Babin calls them buskins. Thus did they
merrily pass their time in travelling on their high-way, always making good chear, and and were
very pleasant till they came a little above Orleans, in which place there was a forrest of five and
thirty leagues long, and seventeen in breadth, or thereabouts. This Forrest was most horribly,
fertile and copi|ous in Dorflies, Hornets and Wasps, so that it was a very Purgatory for the poor
Mares, Asses and Horses: But Gargantua's Mare did avenge her self handsomly, of all the out-
ra|ges therein committed upon Beasts of her quality, and that by a trick whereof they had no
suspicion. For as, soon as ever they were entred into the said Forrest, and that 63 the Wasps had
given the assault, she drew out her tail, and therewith skirmishing, did so sweep them, that she
overthrew all the Wood alongst and athwart, here and there, this way and that way, longwise and
sidewise, over and under, and felled every where the wood with as much ease, as a mower doth
the grass, in such sort· that ne|ver since hath there been there, neither Wood, nor Wasp[...]: For all
the Countrey vvas h[...]|by reduced to a plain champian-Field. Which Gargantua took great
pleasure to behold, and said to his company no more but this, Ie trove beauce, I find this pretty;
whereupon that countrey hath been ever since that time called Beauce. But all the breakfast the
Mare got that day, was but a little yawning and gaping, in memory, whereof the Gen|tlemen of
Beauce do as yet to this day break their fast with gaping, which they find to be very good, and do
spit the better for it. At last they came to Paris, where Gargantua refresh't himself two or three
days, making very merry with his folks, and enquiring what Men of learning there· were then in
the City and what wine they drunk there.
 103

64

CHAP. XVII. How Gargantua payed his Beverage to the Parisians, and how he took away
the great Bells of our Lady's Church.

SOme few days after that they had refresht themselves, he went to see the City, and was beheld
of every Body there with great Admiration. For the People of Paris are such Fools, such Puppies
and Naturals, that a Jugler, a Carrier of Indulgences, a Sumpter-horse, a Mule with his Bells, a
Blind Fidler in the middle of a cross Lane, shall draw a greater confluence of People to|gether,
than an Evangelical Preacher. And they prest so hard upon him, that he vvas constrained to rest
himself upon the Steeple of our Lady's Church; at which place, see|ing so many about him, he
said with a loud Voice, I believe that these Buzzards will have me to pay them here my Welcom
hither, and my Beverage: It is but good reason, I will now give them their Wine, but it shall be
only a Par ris, that is, in Sport. Then smiling, he untied his goodly Codpiece, and lugging out his
Roger into the open Air, he so bitterly all to bepist them, that he drowned Two hun|dred and
sixty thousand, four hundred and 65 eighteen, besides the Women and little Chil|dren.

Some nevertheless of the Company esca|ped this Piss-flood by meer speed of Foot, who when
they were at the higher end of the University, sweating, coughing, spitting and out of breath, they
began to swear and curse, some in good hot earnest, and others Par ris, Carimari, Carimara;
Golynoly, Golynolo; Ods-Bodikins, we are washed Par ris, from whence that City hath been ever
since called Paris; whose name formerly was Leucotia (as Strabo testifieth, lib. quarto) which in
Greek is Whiteness, because of the white Thighs of the Ladies of that place. And forasmuch as at
this imposition of a new name, all the People that were there, swore every one by the Sancts of
his Parish, the Parisians, which are patch'd up of all Nations, and all manner of Men, are by
Nature good at Swearing, and not a little domineering; whereupon Io|anninus de Barrauco libro
de copiositate reveren|t[...]arum, thinks that they are called Parisians, from the Greek, as one
would say, Bold Talkers.

This done, he considered the great Bells, which were in the said Steeple, and made them ring
very harmoniously; which whilst he was doing, it came into his Mind, that they would serve very
well for tingling Tan|tans to hang about his Mares Neck, when she should be sent back to his
Father (as he in|tended) 66 loaded with Brie Cheese and fresh Herring; and indeed he forthwith
carried them to his Lodging. In the mean while there came a Master beggar of the Friars of St.
Anthony, for some Hogs Purtenance; who that he might be heard afar-off, and to make the Bacon
shake in the very Chimneys, had a mind to these Bells, and made account to filch them away
privily. Nevertheless, he left them behind very honestly, not for that they were too hot, but that
they were some|what too heavy for his carriage. This was not he of Bourg, for he was too good a
Friend of mine.

All the City was in an Uproar, they be|ing (as you know) upon any slight occasion, so ready to
Uproars and Insurrections, that foreign Nations wonder at the Patience of the Kings of France,
who do not by good Justice restrain them from such tumultuous Courses, seeing the manifold
inconveniences which thence arise from day to day. Would to God I knew the Shop, wherein are
 104

forged these Divisions, and factious Combinations, that I might bring them to light in the
con|fraternities of my Parish. Believe for a truth, that the place wherein the people (gathered
together) were thus sulfur'd, moiled and bepist, was called Nesle, where then was (but now is no
more) the Oracle of Leucotia. There was the case proposed, and the incon|venience shewed of
carrying away the Bells.

67 After all their ergos, with their pro and con, it was concluded in Baralipton, that they should
send the oldest and most sufficient of the Faculty unto Gargantua, to signifie unto him the great
and horrible prejudice they sustain by the want of those Bells; and not|withstanding the good
reasons given in by some of the University, why this charge was fitter for an Orator than a
Sophister, there was chosen for this purpose our Master Iano|tus de Bragmardo.

CHAP. XVIII. How Janotus de Bragmardo was sent to Gargantua, to recover the great
Bells.

MAster Ianotus, with his Hair cut round as a Dish, his Liripoop on his Head, after the old
fashion; and having sufficiently antidoted his Stomach with Kitchen-Cordials, and holy Water of
the Cellar, convoy'd him|self to the Lodging of Gargantua, driving before him three red muzled
Beadles, and draging after him five or six Artless Masters, all throughly bedagled with the Mire
of the Streets. At their entry Ponocrates met them, who was afraid, seeing them so disguised, and
thought they had been some Maskers out 68 of their Wits; which moved him to enquire of one of
the said Artless Masters of the Com|pany, what this Mummery meant? It was answer'd him, that
they desired to have their Bells restored to them. As soon as Ponocrates heard that, he ran in all
haste to carry the news unto Gargantua, that he might be ready to answer them, and speedily
resolve what was to be done. Gargantua being advertised hereof, called apart his School-master
Pono|crates, Philotimus Steward of his House, Gym|nastes his Esquire, and Eudemon, and very
summarily conferred with them, both of what he should do, and what answer he should give.
They were all of Opinion, that they should bring them unto the Can-office, and there make them
drink like Roysters, and line their Jackets soundly. And that this Cougher might not be puft up
with Vain-glory, by thinking the Bells were restored at his Request, they sent (whilst he was
plying the Pot) for the Major of the Town, the Rector of the Faculty, and the Vicar of the Church,
unto whom they resolved to deliver the Bells, before the Sophister had delivered his
Commission. After that, in their hearing, he should make his fine Harangue, which was done,
and they being come, the Sophister was brought into a full Hall, and began as fol|loweth, in
coughing.

69

CHAP. XIX. The Harangue of Master Jonatus de Bragmardo, for the Recovery of the Bells.
 105

HEM, hem, Gudday Sir, Gudday, & vo|bis, my Masters, it were but reason that you should
restore to us our Bells: for we have great need of them. Hem, hem, aihfuhash, we have
oftentimes heretofore re|fused good Money for them of those of London in Cahors, yea and of
those of Bourdeaux in Brie, who would have bought them for the substantific Quality of the
elementary Complexion· which is intronisicated in the terrestreity of their quidditative nature, to
extraneize the blasting Mists and Whirl winds upon our Vines; indeed not ours, but these round
a|bout us. For if we lose the Liquor of the Grape, we lose all, both Sense and Law. If you restore
them unto us at my request, I shall gain by it six Basketful of Sauciges, and a fine pair of
Breeches, which will do my Legs a great deal of good, or else they will not keep their pro|mise to
me. Ho by gob, domine, a pair of Breeches is good, & vir sapiens non abhorrebit [...]am. Ha, ha,
a pair of Breeches is not so easily got, I have experience of it my self. Consider, Domine, I have
been these Eighteen 70 Days in metagrabolising this brave Speech, Red|dite quae sunt Caesaris,
Caesari, & quae sunt Dei, Deo. Ibi jacet lepus, by my Faith, Domine, if you will sup with me in
camera, by cox body, Charitatis nos faciemus bonum cherubin; ego occi|dit unum porcum, &
ego habet bonum vino: But of good Wine we cannot make bad Latin. Well, De parte Dei datè
nobis bellas nostras; Hold, I give you in the name of the Facul|ty, a Sermones de utino, that
utinam you would give us our Bells. Vultis etiam pardonos? per diem vos habebitis, & nihil
payabiris.

O Sir Domine, Bellagivaminor nobis; verily, est bonum vobis. They are useful to every bo|dy. If
they fit your Mare well, so do they do our Faculty; Quae comparata est jumentis insipientibus, &
similis facta est eis, Psalmo nescio quo. Yet did I quote it in my Note-book; & est unum bonum
Achilles, a good defending Argument, Hem, hem, hem, haikhash; for I prove unto you that you
should give me them. Ego sic argumentor, Omnis bella bella|bilis in Bellerio bellando, bellans
bellativo, bellare facit, bellabiliter bellantes. Parisius habet bellas; ergo gluc. Ha, ha, ha, this is
spoken to some purpose; it is in tertio primae, in Darii, or elsewhere. By my soul, I have seen
the time that I could play the Devil in arguing, but now I am much failed; and hencefor|ward
want nothing but good Wine, a good Bed, my Back to the Fire, my Belly to the Table, and a good
deep dish.

71 Hei domine, I beseech you, in nomine Patris, Filii & Spiritûs sancti, Amen, to restore unto us
our Bells; and God keep you from evil, and our Lady from Health; Qui vivit & regnat per omnia
secula seculorum, Amen. Hem, hashch[...]hhawk sash, qzrchremhemhash. Verùm enim vero,
quandoquidem, dubio procul, aedepol, quoniam, ità, certé, meus deus filius. A Town without
Bells is like a blind Man without a Staff, an Ass without a Crupper, and a Cow without Cymbals;
therefore be assured, until you have restored them unto us, we will never leave crying after you,
like a blind Man that hath lost his Staff, braying like an Ass without a Crupper, and making a
noise like a Cow without Cymbals. A certain La|tinisator dwelling near the Hospital, said once,
producing the Authority of one Taponnus, I lye, it was Pontanus the secular Poet, who wish'd
those Bells had been made of Feathers, and the Clapper of a Fox-tail, to the End they might have
begot a Chronicle in the Bowels of his Brain, when he was about the composing of his carmini-
formal Lines; But Nac petetin petetac, tic, torche Lorgne, more the Deponent saith not. He was
declared an He|retic; We make them as of Wax. And valete & plaudite. Calepinus recensus.
 106

72

CHAP. XX. How the Sophister carried away his Cloath, and how he had a Suit in Law
against the other Masters.

THE Sophister had no sooner ended, but Ponocrates and Eudemon burst out in a laughing so
heartily, that they had al|most split with it, and given up the Ghost, even just as Crassus did,
seeing a lubberly Ass eat Thistles; and as Philemon, who see|ing an Ass eat those Figs which
were provi|ded for his own dinner, died with force of Laughing. Together with them Master
Ionatus fell a laughing too as fast as he could, in which mood of laughing they continued so long,
that their Eyes did Water by the vehement concussion of the substance of the Brain, by which
these lachrymal Humidities, being prest out, glided through the optic Nerves; and so to the full
represented Demo|critus Heraclitising, and Heraclitus Democri|tising.

When they had done laughing, Gargantua consulted with the prime of his Retinue, what should
be done. There Ponocrates was of Opinion, that they should make this fair Orator drink again,
and seeing he had shew|ed them more Pastime, and made them 73 laugh more than a natural.
Fool could have done, that they should give him Ten Basket full of Sauciges, mentioned in his
Jolly Ha|rangue, with a pair of Hose, three hundred great Billets for the Fire, five and twenty
Hog|sheds of Wine, a good large Down-bed, and a deep capacious Dish, which he said were
neces|sary for his old Age.

All this was done as they did appoint; only Gargantua doubting that they could not quickly find
out Breeches fit for his wearing, because he knew not what fashion would best become the said
Orator, whether the ma[...]|tingal Fashion, wherein is a spunge-hole with a draw Bridge, for the
more easie ca|guing; or the fashion of the Mariners, for the greater solace and comfort of his
Kidneys· or that of the Switzers, which keeps warm the Belly-tabret; or round Breeches with
strait cannions, having in the Seat a piece like a Cods Tail; all which considered, for fear of over
hea[...]ing his Reins, he caused to be given him seven Ells of white Cloath for the linings. The
Wood was carried by the Porters, the Masters of Arts carried the Sau|ciges and the Dishes, and
Master Ianotus him|self would carry the Cloath. One of the said Masters· (called Iesse
Bandouille) shewed him that it was not seemly nor decent for one of his Degree and Quality to
do so, and that therefore he should deliver it to one of them· Ha, said Ianotus, Blockhead,
Block|head, 74 thou dost not conclude in modo & figura; for loe, to this end serve the
Suppo|sitions, & parva Logicalia: Pannus, pro quo supponit? Confusè (said Bandouille) &
distri|butivè. I do not ask thee (said Ionatus) Blockhead, quomodo supponit, but pro qui? It is
Blockhead, pro tibiis meis, and therefore I will carry it, Egomet, sicut suppositum, portat
apposi|tum; so did he carry it away very close, as Patelin did his Cloath. The best was, that when
this Cougher in a full Assembly held at the Mathurins, had with great confidence demanded his
Breeches and Sauciges, and that they were flatly denied him, because he had them of Gargantua,
according to the Infor|mations thereupon taken; he shewed them that this was gratis, and out of
pure liberality, by which they were not in any sort quit of their Promises. Notwithstanding this it
was answered him, that he should be content with Reason, without expectation of any other
Bribe there. Reason? (said Ianotus) we use none of that here, unlucky Traytors, you are not
 107

worth the hanging; the Earth bear|eth not more arrant Villains then you are, I know it well
enough; Halt not before Cripples; I have practised wickedness with you. By God's Rattle I will
inform the King of the Enormous Abuses that are forged here, and carried under hand by you,
and let me be a Leper if he do not burn you alive like Bougres, Traytors, Heretics and Suducers,
Ene|mies to God and Vertue.

75 Upon these words they framed Articles a|gainst them; he on the other side cited them to
appear: In summ, the Process was retained by the Court, and there it is yet depending. Hereupon
the Magisters made a vow, never to rub off the Dirt from either Shooes or Clothes: Master
Ianotus with his Adherents, vowed never to blow their Noses, until Judg|ment were given by a
definitive Sentence.

By reason of those Vows, both Parties con|tinue Dirty and Snotty to this Day; for the Court hath
not yet fully looked into all the Proceedings: So that the Judgment is not like to be declar'd till
latter Lammas; that is to say, Never. So you find that they do more then Nature, and contrary to
their own Articles: The Articles of Paris maintain, that to God alone belongs infinity, and Nature
produceth nothing that is Immortal; for she putteth an end and period to all things by her
engender'd, according to the Saying, Omnia orta cadunt, &c. But these Thick-mist-swallowers
make the Suits in Law, depending before them, both Infinite and Immortal; in doing whereof,
they have given occasion to, and verified the Saying of, Chilo the Lacedaemonian, consecrated
at Delphos, That Misery goes along with Law-suits, and Suiters are miserable; for sooner shall
they attain to the End of their Lives, than to the Final Decision of their pre|tended Rights.

76

CHAP. XXI. The Study of Gargantua, according to the Discipline of his School-masters the
Sophisters.

THE first day being thus spent, and the Bells put up again in their own place, the Citizens of
Paris, in acknowledgment of this Courtesie, offer'd to maintain and feed his Mare as long as he
pleased; which Gar|gantua took in good part, and they sent her to graze in the Forest of Biere. I
think she is not there now. This done, he with all his heart submitted his study to the discretion of
Ponocrates; who first of all appointed that he should do as he was accustom'd, to the end it might
be underdood by what means, in so long time, his old Masters had made him such a Sot and
Puppy. He disposed therefore of his time in such fashion, that ordinarily he did awake betwixt
eight or nine a clock, whether it was day or not (for so had his ancient Governors ordained)
alledging that which David saith; Vanam est vobis ante lucem surgere. Then did he tumble and
toss, wag his Legs and wallow in the Bed some|time, the better to stir up and rouse his vital
Spirits, and apparell'd himself according to the Season: But willingly he would wear a 77 great
long Gown of thick Freeze, furred with Fox-Skins. Afterwards he combed his Head with a Comb
de al-main, which is the four Fingers and the Thumb; for his Prae|ceptors had said, That to comb
himself otherways, to wash and make himself neat, was to lose time in this World. Then he
dung'd, pist, spued, belch'd, crack'd, yawn'd, spitted, cough'd, vexed, sneez'd and snotted himself
like an Arch-deacon: And to fortifie against the Fog and bad air, went to breakfast, having some
 108

good fried Tripes, fair Rashers on the Coals, good Gamons of Bacon, store of good minc'd Meat,
and a great deal of sippet-Brewis, made up of the Fat of the Beef-pot, laid upon Bread, Cheese
and chopt Parsley strew'd together.

Ponocrates shew'd him, that he ought not to eat so soon after rising out of his Bed, un|less he had
performed some Exercise before|hand: Gargantua answer'd, What have not I sufficiently well
exercised my self? I have wallow'd and roll'd my self six or seven turns in my Bed, before I rose:
Is not that enough? Pope Alexander did so, by the advice of a Iew his Physician, and lived till his
dying day in despite of his Enemies. My first Masters have used me to it, saying, That to eat
Break-fast made a good memory; and therefore they drank first. I am very well after it, and dine
but the better. And Master Tubal (who was the first Licentiat at Paris) told me, That it was not
enough to run apace, but to set forth betimes. 78 So the total Welfare of our humidity doth not
depend upon drinking, switter, swatter like Ducks, but in being at it early in the Morn|ing. Vnde
versus,

Lener matin n' est point bon heur,

Boire matin est le meilleur.

To rise betimes is good for nothing,

To drink betimes is Meat and Clothing.

After a good Breakfast he went to Church, and they carried to him in a great Basket, a huge
Breviary, weighing what in Grease, Clasps, Parchment and Cover, little more or less than Eleven
hundred and six Pounds. There he heard six and twenty or thirty Masses: This while, to the same
place came his Mattin-mumbler, muffled up about the Chin, round as an Hoop, and his breath
pretty well antidoted with the Vine-tree-sirrup. With him he mumbled all his Kiriels, which he so
curiously thumbed and finger'd, that there fell not so much as one Bead of them to the Ground.
As he went from the Church they brought him upon a Dray drawn with Oxen, a confused heap of
Patinotres of Sante Claude, every one of the bigness of a Hat|block; and sauntring along through
the Cloy|sters, Galleries or Garden, he riddled over more of them than sixteen Hermites would
have done. Then did he study some paltry half-hour with his Eyes fix'd upon his Book; 79 but (as
the Comedy has it) His mind was in the Kitchen. Pissing then a whole pot full, he sate down at
Table; and because he was na|turally flegmatic, he began his Meal with some dozens of
Gammons, dried Neats Tongues, Botargos, Sauciges and such other fore-runners of Wine; in the
mean while, four of his Folks did cast into his mouth one after another continually mustard by
whole shovels full. Immediately after that, he drank a horrible draught of White-Wine for the
comfort of his Kidneys. When that was done, he eat according to the Season, Meat agreeable to
his Appetite; and then left off eating when his Belly was like to crack for fulness. As for his
drinking, he had in that neither end nor rule; for he was wont to say, That the limits and bounds
of drinking were, that a Man might drink till the Cork of his Shooes swells up half a foot high.
 109

80

CHAP. XXII. The Games of Gargantua.

THen with a starched phys mumbling over some Scraps of a scurvie grace, he wash't his Hand in
fresh wine, pick't his Teeth with the foot of a hog, and talked merrily with his People; then the
Carpet being spred, they brought plenty of Cards, many Dice, with great store and abundance of
checkers and chess-boards.

There he played.

 At Flusse.
 At Primero.
 At the beast.
 At the rifle.
 At trump.
 At the prick and spare not.
 At the hundred.
 At the peenie.
 At the unfortunate Woman.
 At the fib.
 At the pass ten.
 At one and thirty.
 At post and pair, or e|ven and sequence.
 At three hundred.
 At the unlucky man.
 At the last couple in Hell.
 At the hock.
 At the surlie.
 At the Lanskenet.
 At the cukoe.
 At puffe, or let him speak that hath it:
 At take nothing and throw out.
 At the marriage.
 At the frolic or Jack|daw.
 81 At the opinion.
 At who doth the one, doth the other.
 At the sequences.
 At the Ivory bundles.
 At the tarots.
 At losing load him.
 At he's gulled and esto.
 At the torture.
 At the handruf.
 110

 At the click.
 At honours.
 At Love.
 At the chesse.
 At Reynold the Fox.
 At the squares.
 At the cowes.
 At the Lottery.
 At the chance or mum-chance.
 At three dice or ma|niest bleaks.
 At the Tables.
 At the Nivinivinack.
 At the lurch.
 At doublets or queens-game.
 At the failie.
 At the French Tictac.
 At the long Tables or Ferkeering.
 At feldown.
 At Tods body.
 At needs must.
 At the Dames or Draughts.
 At bob and mow.
 At primus secundus.
 At mark-knife.
 At the keyes.
 At span-counter.
 At even and odd.
 At cross or pile.
 At ball and huckle-bones.
 At Ivory balls.
 At the billiards.
 At bob and hit.
 At the Owle.
 At the charming of the hare.
 At pull yet a little.
 At trudgepig.
 At the Magatapies.
 At the horn.
 At the flower Oer Shrove-tide oxe.
 At the Madge-owlet.
 At pinch without Laughing.
 At prickle me tickle me.
 At the unshoing of 82 the Ass.
 At the cocksess.
 At hari hohi.
 At I set me down.
 111

 At earle beardie.
 At the old mode.
 At draw the spit.
 At put out.
 At gossip lend me your sack.
 At ramcod ball.
 At thrust out the har|lot.
 At marfeil figs.
 At nicknamrie.
 At stick and hole.
 At boke or him, or flaying the Fox.
 At the branching it.
 At trill Madam or graple my Lady.
 At the Cat selling.
 At blow the Coal.
 At the rewedding.
 At the quick and dead judge.
 At unoven the iron.
 At the false clown.
 At the flints, or at the ninestones.
 At to the crutch hulch back.
 At the Sanct is found.
 At hinch, pinch and laugh not.
 At the leek.
 At Bumdockdousse.
 At the loosegig.
 At the hoop.
 At the sow.
 At belly to belly.
 At the dales or straths.
 At the twigs.
 At the quoits.
 At I'm for that.
 At tilt at weekie.
 At nine pins.
 At the cock quintin·
 At tip and hurle.
 At the flat bowles.
 At the veere and tourn.
 At rogue and ruffian.
 At bumbatch touch.
 At the mysterious trough.
 At the short bowles.
 At the daple gray.
 At cock and crank it.
 At break-pot.
 112

 At my desire.
 At twirlie whirlietrill.
 At the rush bundles.
 At the short staff.
 83 At the whirling gigge
 At hide and seek, or are you all hid.
 At the picket.
 At the blank.
 At the care sin.
 At the pilfrers.
 At prison barres.
 At have at the nuts.
 At cherrie-pit.
 At rub and rice.
 At whip top.
 At the casting top.
 At the hobgobling.
 At the O wonderful.
 At the soilile smutchie.
 At fast and loose.
 At sutchbreech.
 At the broom-beesom.
 At St. Cosme I come to adore thee.
 At the lustie brown boy.
 At I take you naping.
 At fair and softly pas|seth lent.
 At the forked oak.
 At trusse.
 At the wolfes tail.
 At bum to busse, or nose in breech.
 At Geordie give me my lance.
 At swagaie, waggie or shoggieshou.
 At stook and rook, shear, and threave.
 At the birch.
 At the musse.
 At the dillie dilli darling.
 At oxe moudie.
 At purpose in purpose.
 At nine less.
 At blind-man buff.
 At the fallen bridges.
 At bridle nick.
 At the white at buts.
 At thwack swinge him.
 At apple, peare, plum.
 At mumgi.
 113

 At the toad.
 At cricket.
 At the pounding stick.
 At jack and the box.
 At the queens.
 At the trades.
 At heads and points.
 At the vine-tree hug.
 At black be thy fall.
 At ho the distaff.
 At Joane Tomson.
 At the boulting cloth.
 At the oats seed.
 84 At greedi glutton.
 At the morish dance.
 At feebi.
 At the whole frisk and gambole.
 At battabum, or riding of the while mare.
 At Hinde the Plow|man.
 At the good mawkin.
 At the dead beast.
 At climbe the ladder Billie.
 At the dying hog.
 At the salt doup.
 At the pretty pigeon.
 At barly break.
 At the bavine.
 At the bush leap.
 At crossing
 At the hardit arsepur|sie.
 At the harrowers nest.
 At forward hey.
 At the fig.
 At gunshot crack.
 At musteard peel.
 At the gome.
 At the relapse.
 At jog breech, or pricle him forward.
 At knockpate.
 At the Cornish cough.
 At the crane dance.
 At slash and cut.
 At bobbing, or the flirt on the nose.
 At the larks.
 At fil iping.
 114

After he had thus well play'd, shufl'd, cog'd and thrown away his Time, it was thought fit to drink
a little and that was every Man eleven bumpers: And so make much of himself and stretch upon
a fair bench, or a good larg bed, and there sleep for two or three hours together, without thinking
or speaking any hurt: after he was awakened he would shake his Ears a little and then they
brought him fresh wine, he drank bet|ter then ever, Ponocrates shewed him, that 85 it was an ill
diet to drink after sleeping· It is (answerd Gargantua,) the very life of the Patriarchs and holy
Fathers. For naturally I sleep: Salt and sleep to me is so many Gamons.

Then began he to study a little and out came the Patenotres: Which the more for|mally to
dispatch, he got upon an old Mule, which had served nine Kings; and so mum|bling with his
Mouth, nodding and dodling his Head, would go see a coney ferretted or caught in a grinne. At
his return he went in|to the Kitchin, to know what rost meat was one the spit: and supped very
well upon my conscience; and commonly did invite some of his neighbours that were good
drinkers, with whom carousing merrily, they told stories of all sorts, from the old to the new.
Amongst others, he had for domestics the Lord of Fouille, of Grouville, of Griviot and of
Marigny. After supper were brought into the room the fair wooden Gos[...]els, and the books of
the four Kings, that is to say, the Tables and Cards, with a deal of Cock-alls, Mumblety-Pegs and
Wheels of Fortune; or else they went to see the wenches thereabouts with their Wakes, their
Junckettings and lit[...]le Collations, then to sleep without controul till eight a clock the next
Morning.

86

CHAP. XXIII. How Gargantua was instructed by Pon|nocrates and in such sort
disciplina|ted that he lost not one hour of the Day.

WHen Ponocrates knew Gargantua's vici|ous manner of living, he resolved to bring him up in
another-gats way; but for a while bore with him, considering, That nature cannot endure a
sudden change, without great vio|lence. Therefore to begin his work the bet|ter, he requested a
learned Physitian of that time, called Master Theodorus, seriously to per|pend (if it were
possible) how to bring Gar|gantua unto a better course; the said Physi|cian purged him
canonically with Anticyrian Hellebore, by which Medicine he cleansed all that Foulness and
perverse Habit of his Brain. By this means also Ponocrates made him forget all that he had
learned under his ancient Prae|ceptors, as Timotheus, did to his Scholars, who had been
instructed under other Musicians: To do this the better, they brought him in|to the company of
learned Men, which stirr'd in him an Emulation and Desire to whet his wit and improve his parts
and to bend his study another way; so as that the World might have a value from him. And
after|wards he put himself into such a road that he 87 lost not any one hour in the day, but
em|ployed all his time in Learning and honest Knowledg. Gargantua awaked about four a clock
in the Morning; whilst they were in rubbing of him, there was read unto him some Chapter of the
holy Scripture aloud and clearly with a Pronunciation fit for the matter, and hereunto was
appointed a young Page born in Basche, named Anagnostes, according to the purpose and
argument of that Lesson, he of|ten times gave himself to worship, adore, pray and send up his
Supplications to that good God, whose Word did show his Majesty and marvellous Judgment.
 115

Then went he unto the secret places to make excretion of his natu|ral digestions; there his Master
repeated what had been read, expounding unto him the most obscure and difficult points: In
returning, they considered the face of the sky, if it was such as they had observed it the night
before, and in|to what Signs the Sun was entering, as also the Moon for that day. This done, he
was ap|parelled, combed, curled, trimmed and per|fumed, during which time they repeated to him
the Lessons of the day before; he himself said them by heart, and upon them would ground some
practical Cases concerning the Estate of Man, which he would prosecute sometimes two or three
hours, but ordinarily they ceased as soon as he was fully clothed. Then for three good hours he
had a Lecture read unto him: This done, they went forth 88 still conferring of the substance of
the Lecture either unto a Field near the university call'd the Brack, or unto the meadows where
they play'd at the ball, tennis and at the Pelitrigone, most gallantly exercising their Bodies, as
former|ly they had done their minds: All their play was but in liberty, for they left off when they
pleas'd and that was commonly when they did sweat over all their Body, or were otherways
weary. Then were they very well wip'd and rubbed, shifted their shirts and walking soberly, went
to see if dinner were ready: Whilst they stayed for that, they did clearly and eloquetnly
pronounce some sentences that they have retain'd of the Lecture, in the mean time Master
Appetite, came, and then very orderly sat they down at Table. At the beginning of the meal, there
was read some pleasant History of the warlike actions of former times, until he had taken a glass
of Wine. Then (if they thought good,) they continu'd reading, or began to discourse merrily
together; speaking first of the vertue, propriety, efficacy and nature of all that was serv'd in at the
table: of Bread, of Wine, of Water, of Salt, of Fleshes, Fishes, Fruits, Herbs, Roots, and of their
dres|sing; by means whereof, he learned in a little time all the passages competent for this that
were to be found in Plinie, Athe|naeus, Dioscorides, Iulius Pollux, Galen, Por|phirie, Oppian,
Polybius, Heliodore, Aristotle, 89 Elian and others. Whilst they talked of these things, many
times to be more cer|tain, they caused the very books to be brought to the Table and so well and
perfectly did he in his memory retain the things above|said, that in those Days there was not a
Phy|sician, that knew half so much as he did. Afterwards they conferr'd of the lessons read, in the
Morning, and ending their repast with some conserve or marmelade of quinces: he pick't his
teeth with mastic tooth-pickers; wash't his hands and eyes with fair fresh water, and gave thanks
unto God in some neat Hymn, made in the praise of the divine bounty and munificence. This
done, they brought in cards, not to play, but to learn a thousand pretty tricks, and new inventions,
which were all grounded upon Arithmetic. By this means he fell in love with that nu|merical
science and every day after dinner and supper he past his time in it as pleasant|ly, as he was wont
to do at cards and dice: So that at last he understood so well both the Theory and Practical part
thereof; that Tun|stal the Englishman, who had written very largely of that purpose, confessed
that verily in comparison of him he understood no more high Dutch.

And not only in that, but in the other Mathematical Seiences, as Geometrie, Astronomie, Music,
&c. For in waiting on the concoc|tion, and attending the digestion of his food, 90 they made a
thousand pretty instruments and Geometrical figures, and did in some measure practise the
Astronomical Canons.

After this, they recreated themselves with singing musically, in four or five parts, or upon a set
theme or ground at random, as it best pleased them; in matter of musical in|struments, he learned
to play upon the Lute, the Virginals, the Harp, the Allman Flute with nine holes, the Viol and the
Sackbut. This hour thus spent, and digestion finish|ed, he did purg his body of natural
 116

excre|ments, then betook himself to his principal study for three hours together, or more, as well
to repeat his morning Lectures, as to proceed in the book he had in Hand, as also to write
handsomly, to draw and form the Antic and Roman Letters. This being done, they went abroad,
and with them a young Gen|tleman of Tourain, named the Esquire Gym|nast, who taught him the
Art of riding, chan|ging then his clothes, he rode a Naples courser, a Dutch roussin, a Spanish
gennet, a barded or trapped steed, then a light fleet Horse, unto whom he gave a hundred
carieres, made him go the high faults, bounding in the air, free the ditch with a skip, leap over a
stile or pale, turn short in a ring both to the right and left hand. There he broke not his lance; for
it is the greatest foolery in the world, to say I have broken ten lances at tile, or in fight, a
Carpenter can do even as much; but it is a glorious and 91 praise-worthy Action, with one lance
to break and overthrow ten Enemies: Therefore with a sharp, stiff, strong and well steeled lance,
would he usually force up a door, pierce a harness, beat down a tree, carry away the ring, lift up a
cui|rasier saddle, with the male coat and gantlet; all this he did in compleat arms from head to
foot. As for the prancing flourishes, and smack|ing popisms, for the better cherishing of the
horse, commonly used in riding, none did them better then he. The great Vaulter of Ferrara was
but as an Ape compared to him. He was singularly skilful in leaping nimbly from one horse to
another, without putting foot to ground, and these horses were called desultori[...]s; he could
likewise from either side, with a lance in his hand, leap on horseback without stirrups, and rule
the horse at his pleasure without a Bridle, for such things are useful in military Engagements.
Another day he exercised the battel-ax, which he so dextrously wielded, both in the nimble,
strong and smooth Ma|nagement of that weapon, and that in all the Feats practiseable by it, that
he past Knight of Arms in the field, and at all Essays.

Then tost he the pike, played with the two handed Sword, with the Backsword, with the Spanish
tuck, the dagger, poiniard, armed, un|armed, with a buckler, with a cloak, with a targuet.

Then would he hunt the Hart, the Roe-buck, the Bear, the fallow Deer, the wilde Boar, 92 the
Hare, the Phesant, the Partridg and the Bustard. He played at the Baloon and made it bound in
the air, both with fist and foot.

He wrestled, ran, jumped, not at three steps and a leap, nor at the Hears leap, nor yet at the
Almenes; for (said Gymnast,) these jumps are for the wars altogether unprofi|table, and of no use;
but at one leap he would skip over a Ditch, spring over a Hedge, mount six paces upon a Wall,
ramp and grapple after this fashon up against a window, of the full height of a lance. He did
swim in deep Waters on his belly, on his back, sidewise, with all his body, with his feet only,
with one Hand in the Air, wherein he held a book, crossing thus the breadth of the River of
Seina, without wetting it and dragged along his cloak with his Teeth, as did Iulius Caesar; then
with the help of one Hand, he entred forcibly into a boat, from whence he cast himself again
headlong into the Water, sound|ed the depths, hollowed the rocks, and plun|ged into the pits and
gulphs. Then turned he the boat about, governed it, led it swiftly or slowly with the stream, and
against the stream, stopped it in its course, guided it with one Hand, and with the other laid hard
about him with a huge great Oar, hoised the sail, hied up along the mast by the shrouds, ran upon
the edge of the decks, set the com|pass in order, tackled the boulins, and steerr'd the helm.
Coming out of the Wa|ter, 93 he ran furiously up against a Hill, and with the same alacrity and
swiftness ran down again; he climed up at trees like a cat, and leaped from the one to the other
like a squirrel; he did pull down the great boughs and branches like another Milo; then with two
 117

sharp well-steeled Daggers, and two tried Bodkins, would he run up by the wall to the very top
of a House like a cat; then suddenly came down from the top to the bottom, with such an even
composition of members, that by the fall he would catch no harm.

He did cast the dart, through the barr, put the stone, practise the javelin, the boar-spear or
partisan and the halbard; he broke the strongest bows in drawing, bended against his breast, the
greatest cross-bows of steele, took his aim by the eye with the hand-gun, and shot well, traversed
and planted the Ca|non, shot at but-marks, at the papgay from below upwards, from above
downwards, then before him, sideways and behind him, like the Parthians.

They tyed a cable-rope to the top of a high Tower, by one end whereof hanging near the ground,
he wrought himself with his hands to the very top: Then upon the same tract came down so
sturdily and firm that you could not on a plain meadow have run with more assurance. They set
up a great pole fixed upon two trees, there would 94 he hang by his Hands, and with them alone,
his Feet touching at nothing, would go back and fore along the foresaid rope with so great
swiftness, that hardly could one overtake him with running and then to exercise his breast and
lungs, he would shout like all the Devils in hell: I heard him once call Eudemon, from St.
Victors, gate to Monmertre: Stentor had never such a Voice at the siege of Troy.

Then for the strengthening of his nerves or sinewes, they made him two great sows of lead, each
of them weighing eight thousand and seven hundred kint[...]ls, which they call'd Alteres; those he
took up from the ground in each Hand one, then lifted them up over his head, and held them so
without stirring three quarters of an Hour and more, which was an inimitable force.

He fought at Barriers with the stoutest and most vigorous Champions: And when it came to the
cope he stood so sturdily on his Feet, that he abandoned himself unto the strongest, in case they
could remove him from his place, as Milo, was wont to do of old. In whose imitation likewise he
held a Pomgranat in his hand, to give it unto him that could take it from him. The time being thus
bestowed, and himself rubbed, cleansed, wiped and refresht with other clothes, he returned fair
and softly and passing through certain Meadows, or other grassy places, 95 beheld the trees and
plants, comparing them with what is written of them in the books of the Ancients, such as
Theophrast, Dioscorides, Marinus, Plinie, Nicander, Macer and Galen, and carried home to the
house great handfuls of them, whereof a young Page called Rizo|tomos had charge; together with
little Mat|tocks, Pickaxes, Grubbing hooks, Cabbies, Pruning knives, and other Instruments
requisit for gardning. Being come to their lodging, whilst supper was making ready, they
repea|ted certain passages of that which had been read, and set down at table. Here remark that
his dinner was sober and thrifty, for he did then eat only to prevent the gnawings of his stomack,
but his supper was copious and large; for he took then as much as was fit to maintain and nourish
him; which indeed is the true diet prescribed by the Art of good and sound Physic. Although a
rabble of loggerheaded Physicians, nuzzeled in the brabling shop of Sophisters, counsel the
contrary. During that repast was continued the lesson read at dinner as long as they thought
good; the rest was spent in good discourse, learned and profitable: After that they had given
thanks he set himself to sing vocally, and play upon harmonious instruments, or otherways
passed his time at some pretty sports, made with cards or dice; or in practising the feats of
Le|gerdemain, with cups and balls. There they stayed some nights in frolicking thus 96 and
making themselves merriy till it was time to go to bed and on other nights they would go make
 118

visits unto learned men, or to such as had been travellers in strange and remote Countreys. When
it was full night before they retired themselves, they went unto the most open place of the House
to see the face of the sky, and there beheld the Comets, if any were, as likewise the Figures,
Situations, As|pects, Oppositions, and Conjunctions of the both fixed Stars and Planets.

Then with his Master did he briefly re|capitulate after the manner of the Pythagore|ans, that
which he had read, seen, learned, done and understood in the whole course of that day.

Then prayed they unto God the Creator, in falling down before him and strengthening their faith
towards him, and glorifying him for his boundless bounty and giving thanks unto him for the
time that was past, they re|commended themselves to his divine Clemency for the future, which
being done, they went to bed, and betook themselves to their repose.

97

CHAP. XXIV. How Gargantua spent his time in rainy Weather.

IF it happened that the Weather were any Thing cloudy, foul and rainy, all the Forenoon was
employed, as before specified, according to Custom, with this difference only, that they had a
good clear fire lighted, to correct the Distempers of the Air: But after dinner, in stead of their
wonted Exer|citations they did abide within, and by way of Apotherapié, did recreate themselves
in bot|tleing up of Hay, in cleaving and sawing of Wood, and in threshing sheaves of Corn at the
Barn. Then they studied the Art of Painting or Carving, or brought into use the antic play of
Tables, as Leonicus hath writ|ten of it; and as our good Friend Lascaris playeth at it. In playing
they examined the passages of ancient Authors, wherein the said Play is mentioned, or any
metaphor drawn from it. They went likewise to see the draw|ing of Metals, or the casting of great
Ord|nance; how the Lapidaries did work, as also the Goldsmiths and Cutters of precious Stones:
Nor did they omit to visit the Alchymists, Money-coiners, Upholsters, Weavers, Vel|vet-workers,
Watchmakers, Looking-glass-framers, 98 Printers, Organists, and other such kind of Artificers,
and every where giving them somewhat to drink, did learn and con|sider the Industry and
Invention of the Trades.

They went also to hear the public Le|ctures, the solemn Commencements, the Repeti|[...]ions, the
Acclamations, the Pleadings of the gentle Lawyers, and Sermons of Evangelical Preachers.

He went through the Halls and Places ap|pointed for fencing, and there played against the
Masters themselves at all Weapons, and shewed them by Experience, that he knew as much in it
as (yea more then) they. And instead of Simpling, they visited the Shops of Druggists, Herbalists
and Apo|thecaries, and diligently consider'd the Fruits, Roots, Leaves, Gums, Seeds, the Grease
and Ointments of some foreign Parts, as also how they did adulterate them. He went to see the
Juglers, Tumblers, Mountebanks and Quacksalvers; and consider'd their cunning, their shifts,
their summer saults and smooth tongue, especially of those of Chauny in Picar|dy, who are
naturally great Praters, and will Banter and Lye as fast as a Dog can trot.
 119

Being return'd home, they did eat at Sup|per more soberly than at other times; and meats more
desic[...]ative and extenuating; to the end that the intemperate moisture of the Air, communicated
to the Bodyly a necessary confinity, 99 might by this means be corrected; and that they might not
receive any prejudice for want of their ordinary bodily Exercise.

Thus was Gargantua governed, and kept on in this course of Education, from day to day
profiting, as you understand such a young Man of his Age and good Sence, so kept to his
Exercise, may well do. Which although at the beginning it seemed difficult, became a little after
so sweet, so easie, and so delight|ful, that it seem'd rather the Recreation of a King, then the
study of a Scholar, Never|theless Ponocrates, to divert him from this ve|hement intension of the
Spirits, thought fit once in a Month, upon some fair and clear day to go out of the City betimes in
the Morning, either towards Gentilly, or Boulogne, or to Montrouge, or Charenton bridge, or to
Vanures, or St. Clou, and there spend all the day long in making the greatest chear that could be
devised, sporting, making merry, drinking healths, playing, singing, dancing, tumbling in some
fair Meadow, unnestling of Sparrows, taking of Quails, and fishing for Frogs and Crabs.

But although that day was past without Books or Lecture, yet was it not spent with|out profit; for
in the said Meadows they usually repeated certain pleasant Verses of Virgi[...] 's Agriculture, of
Hesiod and of Politian's Husbandry, would set a broach some witty Latin Epigrams, then
immediately turned 100 them into Roundlays and Songs in the French Language. In their
Feasting, they would sometimes separate the Water from the Wine that was therewith mixed, as
Cato teacheth de re rustica, and Pliny with an Ivy Cup, would wash the Wine in a Basin full of
Wa|ter, then take it out again with a Funnel as pure as ever. They made the Water go from one
Glass to another, and contrived a thousand little automatary Engines, that is to say, moving of
themselves.

CHAP. XXV. How there was great Strife and De|bate raised betwixt the Cake-bakers of
Lerne, and those of Gargantua's Country; whereupon were waged great Wars.

AT that time, which was the Season of Vintage, in the beginning of Harvest, when the Country-
Shepherds were set to keep the Vines, and hinder the Starlings from eating up the Grapes: As
some Cake-bakers of Lerne happened· to pass along in the broad high way, driving unto the City
Ten or Twelve Horses loaded with Cakes, the said Shepherds courteously intreated them 101 to
give them some for their Money, as the price then ruled in the Market. For here it is to be
remarked, That it is a Celestial Food to eat for Breakfast hot fresh Cakes with Grapes, especially
the frail Clusters, the great red Grapes, Muscadine, the Verjuice Grape, and the Luskard, for
those that are costive in their Belly; because it will make them gush out, and squirt the length of
a Hunter's staff, like the very tap of a Barrel; and often-times thinking to let a squib, they did all-
to-besquatter and conskite themselves, whereupon they are commonly called the Vintage-
thinkers.

The Cake-bakers were in nothing inclina|ble to their Request; but (which was worse) did injure
them most outragiously, calling them pratling Gablers, lickorous Gluttons, freck|led Bittors,
 120

mangy Rascals, shite-abed Scoun|drels, drunken Roysters, sly Knaves, drowsie Loi|terers,
slapsauce Fellows, slabberdegullion Drug|gels, lubbardly Louts, cousining Foxes, ruffian
Rogues, paultry Customers, sycophant Varlets, drawlatch Hoydons, flouting Milk sops, jeering
Companions, staring Clowns, forlorn Snakes, ninny Lobcocks, scurvy Sneaksbies, fondling Fops,
base Loons, saucy Coxcombs, idle Lusks, scof|fing Braggards, noddy Meacocks, blockish
Grut|nols, Doddipol Iolt heads, jobernol Goosecaps, foolish Loggerheads, slutch Calf lollies,
grout-head Gnatsnapper, Lob dotterels, gaping Change|lings, codshead Loobies, woodcock
Slangams, 102 ninny-hammer Flycatchers, noddipeak Simpletons, turgy Gut, shitten Shepherds,
and other such defamatory Epithetes, saying further, that it was not for them to eat of these
dainty Cakes, but might very well content them|selves with the course unraunged Bread, or to eat
of the great brown Houshold Loaf. To which provoking words, one a|mongst them, called
Forgier (an honest Fellow of his person, and a notable Springal) made answer very calmly thus;
How long is it since you have got Horns, that you are become so proud? Indeed formerly you
were wont to give us some freely, and will you not now let us have some for our Money? This is
not the part of good Neighbours, neither do we serve you thus when you come hither to buy our
good Corn, whereof you make your Cakes and Buns: Besides that, we would have given you to
the bargain some of our Grapes, but by his Zounds, you may chance to repent it, and possibly
have need of us at another time, when we shall use you after the like manner, and there|fore
remember it.

Then Marquet, a prime Man in the Con|fraternity of the Cake-bakers, said unto him, Yea, Sir,
thou art pretty well crest[...]risen this Morning, thou didst eat yesternight too much millet and
bolymoug, come hither Sirrah, come hither, I will give thee some Cakes: Whereupon Forgier
dreading no 103 harm, in all simplicity went towards him, and drew a Six Pence out of his
Leather Sachel, thinking that Marquet would have sold him some of his Cakes; but instead of
Cakes, he gave him with his Whip such a rude lash overthwart the Legs, that the marks remain'd;
then would have fled away, but Forgier cried out as loud as he could, O Mur|ther, Murther, help,
help, help, and in the mean time threw a great Cudgel after him, which he carried under his arm,
where|with he hit him in the Coronal Joint of his head, upon the Crotaphic Artery of the right
side thereof, so forcibly, that Marquet fell down from his Mare, more like a dead then living
Man.

Mean while the Farmers and Country Swains that were watching their Walnuts near to that place,
came running with their great Poles and long Staves, and laid such load on these Cake-bakers, as
if they had been to thresh upon green Rye. The other Shepherds and Shepherddesses hearing the
lamentable shout of Forgier, came with their slings and slackies following them, and throw|ing
great stones at them, as thick as Hail. At last these overtook them, and took from them about four
or five dozen of their Cakes: Nevertheless they payed for them the ordinary price, and gave them
over and above one hundred Eggs, and three Baskets 104 full of Mulberries. Then did the Cake-
bakers help to get Marquet mounted upon his Mare again, who was most shrewdly wound|ed;
and forthwith they returned to Lerne, changing the resolution they had to go to Pareille,
threatning very sharp and boistrously the Cowherds, Shepherds and Farmers of Sevile and
Sinays, This done, the Shepherds and Shepherddesses made merry with these Cakes and fine
Grapes, and sported them|selves together at the sound of the pretty small Pipe, scoffing and
laughing at those vain-glorious Cake-bakers, who had that day met with a Mischief for want of
crossing themselves with a good hand in the Morning. Nor did they forget to apply to Forgier's
 121

Leg some fair great red and medicinal Grapes, and so handsomly drest it and bound it up, that he
was quickly cured.

105

CHAP. XXVI. How the Inhabitants of Lerne, by the commandment of Picrochole their
King, assaulted the Shepherds of Gargantua, unexpectedly and on a sudden.

THE Cake-bakers being returned to Lerne, went presently, before they did either eat or drink, to
the Capitol, and there before their King called Pichrochole, the third of that name, made their
complaint, shewing their Paniers broken, their Caps all crumpled, their Coats torn, their Cakes
taken away, but above all, Marquet most enormously wounded, saying, that all that mischief was
done by the Shepherds and Herdsmen of Grangousier, near the broad high way beyond Sevile.

Picrochole incontinent grew angry and fu|rious; and, without asking any further, what, how, why
or wherefore? commanded the Ban and Arrier Ban to be sounded through|out all his Country,
that all his Vassals of what condition soever, should upon pain of the halter come in the best
arms they could, unto the great place before the Castle, at the hour of Noon, and the better to
expedite his design, he caused the Drum to be beat about the Town. Whilst his dinner was 106
making ready, he went himself to see his Ar|tillery mounted upon the Carriage, to display his
Colours, and set up the great royal Stan|dard, and loaded Wains with store of Ammu|nition both
for the Field and for the Belly, Arms and Victuals. At dinner he dispatch'd his Commissions, and
by his express Edict my Lord Shagrag was appointed to command the Vanguard, wherein were
numbred Sixteen thousand and fourteen Harquebusiers, toge|ther with Thirty thousand eleven
Volunteers. The great Tonquedillion, Master of the Horse, had the charge of the Ordnance,
wherein were reckon'd Nine hundred and fourteen of Brass, in Cannons, Double-cannons,
Basilisks, Serpentines, Culverins, Bombards, Falcons, Passe|volans, Spiroles, and other sort of
great Guns. The Reerguard was committed to the Duke of Scrapegood: In the main Battle was
the King, and the Princes of his Kingdom. Thus being hastily equipp'd, before they would set
forward, they sent Three hundred light Horsemen under the Conduct of Captain Swill|wind, to
discover the Country, clear the Avenues, and see whether there was any am|bush laid for them.
But after they had made diligent search, they found all the Land round about in Peace and Quiet,
without any meet|ing or convention at all; which Picrochole un|derstanding, commanded that
every one should march speedily under his Colours. Then in all disorder, without keeping either
107 rank or file, they took the Fields, one a|mongst another, wasting, spoiling, destroy|ing and
making havock of all where ever they went, not sparing poor nor rich, privileged nor
unprivileged Places, Church or Laity, drove away Oxen and Cows, Bulls, Calves, Heifers,
Wethers, Ewes, Lambs, Goats, Kids, Hens, Capons, Chickens, Geese, Gan|ders, Goslings, Hogs,
Swine, Pigs and such like. Beating down the Walnuts, plucking the Grapes, tearing the Hedges,
shaking the Fruit-trees, and committing such incompara|ble abuses, that the like abomination was
never heard of. Nevertheless, they met with none to resist them; for every one submitted to their
mercy; beseeching them, that they might be dealt with courteously; in regard that they had
always carried themselves, as became good and loving Neighbours; and that they had never been
guilty of any wrong or outrage done upon them, to be thus sud|denly surprized, troubled and
 122

disquieted, and that if they would not desist, God would pu|nish them very shortly. To which
Expostu|lations Remonstrances no other answer was made, but that they would teach them to eat
Cakes.

108

CHAP. XXVII. How a Monk of Sevile saved the Closs of the Abbey from being Ravag'd by
the Enemy.

SO much they did, and so far they went pillaging and stealing, that at last they came to Sevile
where they robbing both Men and Women, and took all they could catch: Nothing was either too
hot or too heavy for them. Although the Plague was there in the most part of all the Houses, they
neverthe|less entred every where; then plundered and carried away all that was within; and yet
for all this not one of them took any hurt, which is a most wonderful case. For the Curates,
Vicars, Preachers, Physicians, Chirurgions and Apothecaries, who went to visit, to dress, to cure,
to heal, to preach unto, and admonish those that were sick were all dead of the Infection; and
these devillish Robbers and Murtherers caught never any harm at all. Whence comes this to pass
(my Masters) I beseech you think up|on it?

The Town being thus pillaged, they went unto the Abbey with a horrible noise and tumult, but
they found it shut and made fast against them. Whereupon the Body of the 109 Army marched
forward towards a Ford call|ed the Sue de vede, except seven Companies of Foot, and Two
hundred Lanciers, who staying there, broke down the Walls of the Closs, to waste, spoil and
make havock of all the Vines and Vintage within that place. The Monks (poor Devils) knew not
in that extremity to which of all their Sancts they should vow themselves; nevertheless, at all
adventures they rang the Bells ad capi|tulum capitulantes. There it was decreed, that they should
make a fair Procession, stuffed with good Lectures, Prayers and Li|tanies, contra hostium
insidias, and jolly Re|sponses pro pace.

There was then in the Abbey a claustral Monk, called Freer Iohn de Entoumeures, young,
gallant, frisk, lusty, nimble, quick, active, bold, adventurous, resolute, tall, lean, wide-mouthed,
long nosed, a rare mumbler of Mattins, unbridler of Masses, and runner over of Vigils: And to
conclude summarily in a word, a right Monk, if ever there were any, since the Monking World
monked a Monkery. For the rest a Clerk, even to the Teeth, in matter of Breviary. This Monk
hearing the noise that the Enemy made within the inclosure of the Vineyard, went out to see what
they were doing; and perceiving that they were cutting and gathering the Grapes, whereon was
grounded the foundation of all their next Years Wine, returned unto the Quire 110 of the Church
where the other Monks were, all amazed and astonished like so many Bell-melters, whom when
he heard sing, im, nim, pe, ne, ne, ne, ne, nede, tum, ne, num, num, ini, i, mi, co, o, no, o, o, neno,
ne, no, no, no, rum, nenum, num. This is (said he) Bien chié chanté, Well shit, well sung, by the
Vertue of God, why do not you sing Paniers farewel, Vintage is done; the Devil snatch me if
they be not already within the middle of our Closs, and cut so well both Vines and Grapes, that,
by cods body, there will not be found for these four Years to come so much as a gleaning in it. By
the Belly of Sanct Iames, what shall we (poor Devils) drink the while? Lord God! da mihi potum.
 123

Then said the Prior of the Convent, What should this drunken Fellow do here, let him be carri|ed
to Prison for troubling the Divine Service: Nay, said the Monk, the Wine Service, let us behave
our selves so, that it be not trou|bled; for you your self, my Lord Prior, love to drink of the best,
and so doth every honest Man. Never yet did a Man of worth dislike good Wine, it is a monastical
Apophthegm. But these Responses that you chant here by G--- are not in Season. Wherefore is it
that our Devotions were instituted to be short in the time of Harvest and Vintage, and long in the
Advent and all the Winter.

111 The late Friar, Messepelosse of good me|mory, a true zealous Man (or the Devil take me) of
our Religion, told me, and I remember it well, how the reason was, That in this Season we might
press and make the Wine, and in Winter whiff it up. Hark you, my Masters, you that love the
Wine, Cops Body, follow me, for Sanct Anthony burn me as freely as a Fagot, if they taste one
drop of the Liquor, that will not now come and fight in defence of the Vine. Hogs Belly, the
Goods of the Church! Ha, no, no: What the Devil would have Sanct Thomas of England died for
them; if I die, shall not I be a Sanct likewise? Yet will not I die for all this, but send others a-
packing.

As he spake this, he threw off his great Monks habit, and laid hold upon the staff of the Cross,
which was made of the Heart of a Sorbaple-tree, it being of the length of a Lance, round, of a full
gripe, and a little powder'd with Flower de luce, almost all de|fac'd and worn out. Thus went he
out in a fair long-skirted Jacket, putting his Frock scarfways athwart his Breast, and with his staff
of the Cross, laid on so lustily, upon his Enemies, who without any Order, or En|sign, or
Trumpet, or Drum, were busied in gathering the Grapes of the Vineyard; for the Cornets,
Guidons and Ensign-bearers, had laid down their Standards, Banners and Colours by the Wall-
sides: The Drummers 112 had knock'd out the Heads of their Drums on one end, to fill them with
Grapes: The Trumpeters were loaded with great Bundles of Bunches, and huge knots of Clusters:
In summ, every one of them was out of array, and all in disorder. He hurried therefore upon them
so rudely, without crying gare or beware, that he overthrew them like Hogs, tumbled them over
like Swine, striking athwart and alongst, and by one means or other, laid so about him, after the
old fashi|on of Fencing, that to some he beat out their Brains, to others he crushed their Arms,
batter'd their Legs, and bethwack'd their sides till their Ribs crack'd with it; to others again he
unjointed the Spondyles of the Neck, disfigured their Chaps, gash'd their Faces, made their
Cheeks hang flapping over their Chin, and so swing'd and belammed them, that they fell down
before him like Hay be|fore a Mower: To some others he spoiled the frame of their Kidneys,
marr'd their Backs, broke their Thigh bones, pash'd in their Noses, poach'd out their Eyes, cleft
their Mandibules, tore their Jaws, dung in their Teeth into their Throat, shook a|sunder their
Omoplates or Shoulder-blade· spha|celated their Shins, mortified their Shanks, in|flamed their
Ankles, heaved off of the Hinges, their Ishies, their Sciatica or Hip-gout, dislo|cated the Joints of
their Knees, squatter'd into pieces the boughts or pestles of their 113 Thighs, and so thump'd,
mawl'd and be la|bour'd them every where, that never was corn so thick and threefold thresh'd
upon by Plowmens Flails, as were the pitifully dis|jointed Members of their mangled Bodies,
under the merciless baton of the cross.

If any offer'd to hide himself amongst the thickest of the Vines, he laid him squat as a Flounder,
bruised the Ridge of his Back, and dash'd his Reins like a Dog. If any thought by flight to escape,
he made his Head to fly in pieces by the Lambdoidal commissure. If any one did scramble up
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into a Tree, think|ing there to be safe, he rent up his Perinee, and impaled him in at the
Fundament. If any one of his old acquaintance happened to cry out, Ha, Friar Iohn my Friend,
Friar Iohn, quarter, quarter, I yield my self to you; to you I render my self: So thou shalt (said
he) per force, and thy Soul to all the Devils in Hell, then suddenly gave them Dronos. If any was
so rash and full of te|merity as to resist him to his Face, then was it he did shew the strength of
his Mu|scles; for without more ado he did tran|spierce him, by running him in at the Breast,
through the mediastine and the Heart. Others again he so quash'd and be bump'd, that with a
sound bounce under the hollow of their short Ribs, he overturn'd their Sto|machs, so that they
died immediately. To some with a smart souse on the Epigaster, he 114 would make their Midrif
swag, then redou|bling the blow, gave them such a home push on the Navel, that he made their
Pud|dings to gush out. To others through their Ballocks he pierced their Bum-gut, and left not
Bowel, Tripe nor Intral in their Body, that had not felt the impetuosity, fierceness and fury of his
Violence. Believe that it was the most horrible Spectacle that ever one saw: Some cried unto
Sanct Barbe, others to St. George; O the holy Lady Nytouch, said one, the good Sanctess; O our
Lady of Succors, said another, help, help: Others cried, Our Lady of Cunaut, of Loretta, of good
Tidings, on the other side of the Water St. Mary over: some vowed a Pilgrimage to St. Iames, and
others to the holy Handkerchief at Chamberry, which three Month; after that burnt so well in the
fire, that they could not get one thread of it saved: Others sent up their Vows to St. Cadouin,
others to St. Iohn d' Angelie, and to St. Eutropius of Xantes: O|thers again invoked St. Mesmes of
Chinon, St. Martin of Candes, St. Clouod of Sinays, the holy Relics of Laurezay, with a
Thousand other jolly little Sancts and Santrels. Some died without speaking, others spoke
without dy|ing; some died in speaking, others spoke in dying. Others shouted aloud, Confession,
Confession, Confiteor, miserere, in manus. So great was the cry of the wounded, that the Prior of
the Abbey with all his Monks came 115 forth; who when they saw these poor Wretches so slain
amongst the Vines, and wounded to death, confessed some of them. But whilst the Priests were
busied in confes|sing them, the little Monkeys ran all to the place where Friar Iohn was, and
asked him, wherein he would be pleased to require their assistance?

To which he answer'd, that they should cut the Throats of those he had thrown down upon the
ground. They presently leaving their outer Habits and Cowls upon the Rails, began to throttle
and make an end of those whom he had already crushed. Can you tell with what Instruments they
did it? with fair Gulli[...]s, which are little [...]u[...]ch-back'd Demi-knives, wherewith the little
Boys in our Country cut ripe Walnuts in two.

In the mean time Friar Iohn with his for|midable baton of the Cross, got to the breach which the
Enemies had made, and there stood to snatch up those that endeavoured to escape. Some of the
Monkitos carried the Standards, Banners, Ensigns, Guidons and Colours into their Cells and
Chambers, to make Garters of them. But when those that had been shriven, would have gone out
at the gap of the said Breach, the sturdy Monk quash'd and fell'd them down with blows, saying,
These Men have had Confes|sion and are peni[...]ent Souls, they have got 116 their Absolution,
and gained the Pardons: They go into Paradise as streight as a sickle, or as the way is to Fare
(like Crooked-Lane at Eastcheap.)

Thus by his Prowess and Valour were discomfited all those of the Army that en|tred into the
Closs of the Abbey, unto the number of Thirteen thousand six hundred twenty and two, besides
the Women and little Children, which is always to be under|stood. Never did Maugis the Hermite
 125

bear himself more valiantly with his Pilgrims staff against the Saracens, of whom is written in
the Acts of the four Sons of Haymon, then did this Monk against his Enemies with the staff of the
Cross.

CHAP. XXVIII. How Picrochole stormed and took by assault the Rock Clermond, and of
Grangousier's unwillingness and a|version from the Undertaking of War.

WHilst the Monk did thus skirmish, as we have said, against those which were entred within the
Closs; Picrochole in great haste passed the Ford Vede, with all his 117 Souldiery, and set upon
the Rock Clermond, where there was made him no resistance at all: And because it was already
Night, he resol|ved to quarter himself and his Army in that Town, and to refresh himself of his
pugna|tive Choler. In the Morning he stormed and took the Bulwarks and Castle, which
after|wards he fortified with Rampiers, and fur|nish'd with all Ammunition requisite, inten|ding to
make his retreat there, if he should happen to be otherwise worsted; for it was a strong place,
both by Art and Nature, in regard of the stance and scituation of it. But let us leave them there,
and to return to our good Gargantua, who is at Paris very assiduous and earnest at the study of
good Letters, and athletical Exercitations, and to the good old Man Grangousier his Father, who
after Supper warmeth his Ballocks by a good, clear, great fire, and whilst his Chesnut a are a-
rosting, is very serious in drawing scratches on the Hearth, with a stick burnt at the one end,
wherewith they did stir up the fire, telling to his Wife and the rest of the Family pleasant old
Stories and Tales of of former times.

Whilst he was thus employ'd, one of the Shepherds which did keep the Vines (named Pillot)
came towards him, and to the full related the enormous abuses which were com|mitted, and the
excessive spoil that was made by Picrochole King of Lerne, upon his Lands 118 and Territories,
and how he had pillaged, wa|sted and ravaged all the Country, except the inclosure at Sevile,
which Friar Iohn des En|toumeures to his great honour had preserved: And that at the same
present time the said King was in the Rock Clermond: And there with great Industry and
Circumspection, was strengthening himself and his whole Army. Halas, halas, alas (said
Grangousier) what is this good People? Do I dream, or is it true that they tell me? Picrochole my
ancient Friend of old time, of my own Kindred and Alliance, comes he to invade me? What
moves him? What provokes him? What sets him on? What drives him to it? Who hath given him
this Counsel? Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, my God, my Saviour, help me, inspire me, and advise me what
I shall do. I protest, I swear before thee, so be thou favourable to me, if ever I did him or his
Subjects any damage or displeasure, or committed any the least Robbery in his Country; but on
the contrary I have succoured and supplied him with Men, Money, Friendship and Counsel upon
any occasion, wherein I could be stead|able for his good; that he hath therefore at this nick of
time so outraged and wronged me, it cannot be but by the malevolent and wicked Spirit. Good
God, thou knowest my Courage, for nothing can be hidden from thee; if perhaps he be grown
mad, and that thou hast sent him hither to me for the better 119 recovery and re-establishment of
his brain: Grant me power and wisdom to bring him to the yoke of thy holy will by good
disci|pline. Ho, ho, ho, ho, my good People, my Friends and my faithful Servants, must I hin|der
you from helping me? Alas, my old age required henceforward nothing else but rest, and all the
 126

days of my Life I have laboured for nothing so much as Peace: But now I must (I see it well)
load with Arms my poor, weary and feeble shoulders; and take in my trembling hand the Lance
and Horseman's Mace, to succour and protect my honest Subjects: Reason will have it so; for by
their labour am I maintain'd, and with their sweat am I nourish'd, I, my Children and my Family.
This notwithstanding, I will not undertake War, until I have first tried all the ways and means of
Peace; that I re|solve upon.

Then assembled he his Counsel, and pro|posed the matter, as it was indeed, where|upon it was
concluded, that they should send some discreet Man unto Picrochole, to know wherefore he had
thus suddenly broken the Peace, and invaded those Lands unto which he had no Right nor Title.
Furthermore, that they should send for Gargantua, and those under his command, for the
Preservation of of the Country, and Defence thereof now at need. All this pleased Grangousier
very well, and he commanded that so it should be done. 120 Presently therefore he sent Basque,
his Lackey, to fetch Gargantua with all diligence, and wrote to him as followeth.

CHAP. XXIX. The Tenor of the Letter which Gran|gousier wrote to his Son Gargantua.

THe fervency of thy studies did require, that I should not in along time recall thee from that
Philosophical rest thou now enjoyest: If the confidence reposed in our Friends and ancient
Con|federates, had not at this present Disappointed the assurances of my old age. But seeing
such is my fatal Destiny, that I should be now disquieted by those in whom I trusted most: I am
forced to call thee back to defend the People and Goods, which by the right of Nature belong
unto thee; for even as Arms are weak abroad if there be not Counsel at home; so is that Study
vain, and Counsel unprofitable, which in a due and convenient time is not by Vertue executed
and put in effect. My Intention is not to Provoke, but Appease: Not to Assault, but to Defend:
Not to Conquer, but to preserve my faithful Subjects and hereditary Dominions; into which
Picrochole is entred in a hostile manner without any Ground or Cause, and from day to 121 day
pursueth his furious Enterprise with great height of Insolence, that is intolerable to free-born
Spirits.

I have endeavoured to moderate his tyran|nical Choler, offering him all that which I thought
might give him Satisfaction: And often|times have I sent lovingly unto him, to understand
wherein, by whom, and how he found himself to be wronged; But of him could I obtain no other
answer, but a meer defiance; and that in my Lands he did pretend only to the right of a civil
Correspondency and good Behaviour. Whereby I knew that the Eternal God hath given him over
to the disposure of his own free Will and sensual Appetite; which cannot chuse but be wick|ed, if
by divine Grace it be not continually guided: And to contain him within his Duty, and bring him
to know himself, hath sent him hither to me by a grievous Token. Therefore, my Beloved Son, as
soon as thou, canst, upon sight of these Letters, repair hither with all dili|gence, to succour not
me so much (which never|theless by natural Piety thou oughtest to do) as thine own People,
which by reason thou oughtest to save and preserve. The Exploit shall be done with as little
Effusion of Blood as may be; and if possible, by Means more expedient, by Policy and
Stratagems of War. We shall save all the Souls, and send them home merry unto their own
 127

Houses. My dearest Son, the Peace of Jesus Christ our Redeemer be with 122 thee; salute from
me Ponocrates, Gymnastes and Eudemon; the Twentieth of September,

Thy Father Grangousier.

CHAP. XXX. How Ulrich Gallet was sent unto Pi|crochole.

THE Letters being dictated, signed and sealed, Grangousier ordained that Vl|rich Gallet (Master
of the Requests) a very wise and discreet Man, of whose Prudence and found Judgment he had
made trial in several difficult and debateful matters) to go unto Picrochole, to shew what had
been re|solved amongst them. At the same hour departed the good Man Gallet, and having past
the Ford, asked the Miller, in what con|dition Picrochole was? who answer'd, That his Souldiers
had left neither Cock nor Hen; that they were retir'd and shut up into the Rock Clermond, and
that he would not advise him to go any further for fear of the Scouts, be|cause they were
enormously furious; which he easily believed, and therefore lodged that night with the Miller.

The next morning he went with a Trum|peter to the Gate of the Castle, and requir'd 123 the
Guards he might be admitted to speak with the King, of somewhat that concern'd him. These
words being told unto the King, he would by no means consent that they should open the Gate;
but getting up|on the top of the Bulwark, said unto the Ambassador, What is the news? what have
you to say? Then the Ambassador began to speak as followeth.

CHAP. XXXI. The Speech made by Gallet to Picro|chole.

THere cannot arise amongst Men a juster cause of Grief, then when they receive hurt and
damage· where they may justly expect for fa|vour and good will; and not without cause (though
without reason) have many, after they had fallen into such a calamitous accident, esteemed this
in|dignity less supportable then the loss of their own Lives; in such sort, that if they could not by
force of Arms or otherwise correct it, they have deprived themselves of this Light.

It is therefore no wonder if King Grangou|sier, my Master be full of high displeasure, and much
disquieted in mind upon thy outragious and hostile coming; but truly it would be a marvel, if he
were not sensible of, and moved with the 124 incomparable Abuses and Injuries perpetrated by
thee and thine upon those of his Country, towards whom there hath been no Example of
Inhuma|nity omitted. Which in it self is to him so grie|vous for the cordial Affection, wherewith
he hath always cherish'd his Subjects, that more it cannot be to any mortal Man; yet in this
(above human Apprehension) is it to him the more grievous, that these Wrongs and sad Offences
have been committed by thee and thine, who time out of mind, from all antiquity, thou and thy
Pre|decessors have been in a continual League and Amity with him, and all his Ancestors; which,
even until this time, you have as sacred together inviolably preserved, kept and maintained so
 128

well, that not he and his only, but the very barbarous Nations of the Poictevins, Bretons,
Manceaux, and those that dwell beyond the Isles of the Ca|naries, and that of Isabella, have
thought it as easie to pull down the Firmament, and to set up depths above the Clouds, as to
make a breach in your Alliance; and have been so afraid of it in their Enterprises, that they have
never dared to provoke, incense or indamage the one for fear of the other. Nay, which is more,
this sacred League hath so filled the World, that there are few Nations at this day inhabiting
throughout all the Continent and Isles of the Ocean, who have not ambitiously aspired to be
received into it, upon your own Covenants and Conditions, holding your joint Confederacy in as
high Esteem as their own Territories and Dominions; in such sort, that 125 from the memory of
Man, there hath not been either Prince or League so wild and proud, that durst have offered to
invade, I say not your Coun|tries, but not so much as those of your Confede|rates. And if by rash
and heady Counsel they have attempted any new design against them, as soon as they heard the
Name and Title of your Al|liance, they have suddenly desisted from their En|prises. What Rage
and Madness therefore doth now incite thee, all old Alliance infringed, all Amity trod under foot,
and all right violated, thus in a hostil manner to invade his Country, without having been by him
or his in any thing prejudiced, wronged or provoked? Where is Faith? Where is Law? Where is
Reason? Where is Humanity? Where is the fear of God? Dost thou think that these atr[...]cious
Abuses are hidden from the eternal Spirits, and the Supream God, who is the just re|warder of all
our Vndertakings? If thou so think, thou deceivest thy self; for all things shall come to pass, as in
his incomprehensible Judgment he hath appointed.

Is it thy fatal Destiny, or influences of the Stars that would put an end to thy so long enjoyed
Ease and Rest? For that all things have their end and period, so as that when they are come to the
super|lative point of their greatest height, they are in a trice tumbled down again, as not being
able to abide long in that state. This is the Conclusion and End of those who cannot by Reason
and Tempe|rance moderate their Fortunes and Prosperities. But if it be predestinated that thy
Happiness and 126 Ease must now come to an end, must it needs be by wronging my King? him
by whom thou were establish'd? If thy House must come to ruin, should it therefore in its fall
crush the heels of him that set it up? The matter is so unreasonable, and so dissonant from
common Sense, that hardly can it be conceived by human Vnderstanding, and altogether
incredible unto Strangers, till by the certain and undoubted effects thereof it be made apparent,
that nothing is either sacred or holy to those, who having emancipated them|selves from God and
Reason, do meerly fol|low the perverse affections of their own depraved nature.

If any wrong had been done by us to thy Sub|jects and Dominions; if we had favour'd thy Ill-
willers; if we had not assisted thee in thy Need; if thy Name and Reputation had been wounded
by us; or (to speak more truly) if the calumnia|ting Spirit, tempting to induce thee to Evil, had by
false Illusions and deceitful Fantasies, put into thy Conceit the impression of a thought, that we
had done unto thee any thing unworthy of our ancient Correspondence and Friendship, thou
ought|est first to have enquired out the Truth, and after|wards by a seasonable warning to
admonish us thereof; and we should have so satisfied thee, ac|cording to thine own hearts desire,
that thou shouldest have had occasion to be contented. But, O Eternal God, what is thy
enterprize? Wouldst thou like a perfidious Tyrant, thus spoil and lay waste my Masters
Kingdom? Hast thou found 127 him so silly and blockish, that he would not; or so destitute of
Men and Money, of Counsel and Skill in military Discipline, that he cannot withstand thy
unjustly Invasion? March hence presently, and to morrow some time of the Day retreat unto
 129

thine own Country, without doing any kind of Violence or disorderly act by the way; and pay
withal a Thousand Besans of Gold, for reparation of Damages thou hast done in his Country:
Half thou shalt pay to morrow, and the other half at the Ides of May next coming, leaving with us
in the mean time for Hostages, the Dukes of Turnebank, Lowbuttock and Small-trash: together
with the Prince of Itches, and Viscount of Snatch-bit.

CHAP. XXXII. How Grangousier to buy Peace, caused the Cakes to be restored.

WITH that the good Man Gallet held his peace, but Picrochole to all his Discourse answer'd
nothing but Come and fetch them, come and fetch them; They have Ballocks fair and soft, they
will knead some Cakes for you. Then returned he to Grangousier, whom he found upon his
Knees bare-headed, crouching in a little Corner of his Cabinet, and hum|bly 128 praying unto
God, that he would vouch|safe to asswage the Choler of Picrochole, and bring him to the rule of
reason without pro|ceeding by force. When the good Man came back, he asked him, Ha, my
Friend, my Friend, what News do you bring me? There is neither Hope nor Remedy (said Gallet)
the Man is quite out of his Wits, and forsaken of God. Yea but (said Gran|gousier) my Friend,
what cause doth he pre|tend for his Outrages? He did not shew me any cause at all (said Gallet)
only that in a great Anger, he spoke some words of Cakes. I cannot tell if they have done any
wrong to his Cake-bakers. I will know (said Grangousier) the matter throughly, before I resolve
any more upon what is to be done. Then sent he to learn concerning that busi|ness, and found by
true information, that some of his Men had taken violently some Cakes from Picrochole's
People, and that Mar|quet had his Head broken: That neverthe|less all was well paid, and that the
said Mar|quet had first hurt Forgior with a stroke of his Whip athwart the Legs; and it seemed
good to his whole Counsel, that he should defend himself with all his Might. Not|withstanding
all this (said Grangousier) see|ing the question is but about a few Cakes, I will labour to content
him; for I am very unwilling to wage War against him. He enquired then what quantity of Cakes
they 129 had taken away, and understanding that it was but some four or five dozen, he
com|manded five cart-Loads of them to be baked that same night, and, that there should be one
full of Cakes, made with fine butter, fine yolks of eggs, fine saffron and fine spice, to be
bestowed upon Marquet; unto whom likewise he directed to be given seven hundred thousand
and three Philips, for reparation of his losses, and for satisfaction of the Chirurgeon that had
dressed his wound; and furthermore setled upon him and his for ever in Free-hold the Apple-
Orchard called La Pomardiore; for the conveyance and passing of all which was sent Gallet,
who by the way as they went made them gather near the wil|low trees great store of boughs,
canes and reeds, wherewith all the Cariers were injoy|ned to garnish and deck their Carts, and
each of them to carry one in his hand, as himself likewise did, thereby to give all Men to
un|derstand, that they demanded but Peace, and that they came to buy it.

Being come to the gate, they required to speak with Picrochole from Grangousier. Picro|chole
would not so much as let them in, nor go to speak with them, but sent them word that he was
busie, and that they should deliver their mind to Captain Tonquedillon, who was then planting a
piece of Ordnance upon the Wall. Then said the good Man unto him, My Lord, to ease you of all
this labour, and to take a|way 130 all excuses why you may not return unto our former Alliance,
 130

we do here presently re|store unto you the Cakes upon which the quar|rel arose; five dozen did
our People take a|way, they were well paid for; we love Peace so well, that we restore unto you
five Cart|loads, of which this Cart shall be for Marquet, who doth most complain; besides to
content him entirely, here are seven hundred thousand and three Philips, which I deliver to him;
and for the Losses he may pretend to have sustai|ned, I resign for ever the Farm of the
Pomar|dere, to be possess'd in Fee-simple by him and his for ever, without the payment of any
du|ty, or acknowledgment of homage, fealty, fine or service whatsoever; and here is the Deed of
Conveyance, and for God's sake let us live henceforward in Peace; and go you home merrily into
your own Country from this place, unto which you have no right at all, as your selves must needs
confess, and let us be good Friends as before. Tonquedillon related all this to Picrochole, and
more and more exaspe|rated his courage, saying to him, These Clowns are afraid to some
purpose, by cocks Grangou|sier conskites himself for fear; the poor drin|ker he is not skilled in
warfare, nor hath he a|ny stomach for it, he knows better how to em|pty the Flaggons, that is his
Art. I am of opi|nion that it is fit we send back the Carts and the Money; and for the rest, that
very spee|dily we fortifie our selves here, then prosecute 131 our fortune. But what do they think
to have to do wlth a ninnie-whoop, to feed you thus with cakes? You may see what it is, the good
Usage and great Familiarity which you have had with them heretofore, hath made you
con|temptible in their Eyes; ungenton purget purgen|tom rustius unget.

Sa, sa, sa, (said Picrochole,) by St. Iames you have given a true character of them. One thing I
will advise you (said Tonquedillon,) we are here but badly victualled and very slenderly provided
which stores for the Mouth: If Grangousier should come to besiege us, I would go presently and
pluck out of all your souldiers heads and mine own all the teeth ex|cept three to each of us, and
with them alone we should make an end of our provision, but too soon.

We shall have (said Picrochole) but too much sustenance and feeding-stuff; came we hither to
eat or to fight? To fight indeed (said Ton|quedillon) yet from the panch comes the dance, and
where famine rules force is exil'd. Leave off your prating (said Picrochole) and forthwith seize
upon what they have brought. Then took the Money and Cakes, Oxen and Carts, and sent away
the Messengers, without speaking a word, only that they would come no more so near, for a
reason that would be told them the morrow after. Thus without doing any thing, returned they to
Grangousier, and rela|ted the whole matter unto him, subjoyning 132 that there was no hope left
to draw them to Peace, but by sharp and fierce Wars.

CHAP. XXXIII. How some Ministers of Picrochole, by Hair-brain'd Counsel put him in
extreme Danger.

THE Carts being unloaded, and the Mo|ney and Cakes secured, there came be|fore Picrochole,
the Duke of Small-trash, the Earl Swash-buckler and Captain Durtaille, who said unto him, Sir,
this day we make you the happiest, the most warlike and chivalrous Prince that ever was since
the death of A|lexander of Macedonia. Be covered, be cove|red (said Picrochole) cry you mercy
(said they) we do but our Duty: The manner is thus, you shall leave some Captain here to have
the charge of this Garrison, with a Party competent for keeping of the place, which besides its
 131

natural strength, its made stronger by the rampiers and fortresses of your devising. Your Army
you are to divide into two parts, as you know very well how to do; one part thereof, shall fall
upon Grangousier and his forces; by it shall he be easily, at the very first shock routed and then
shall you get Money by heaps, for the Clown had store of 133 ready Coin. Clown we call him,
because, A noble and generous Prince, had never a penny and that to hoard up Treasure, is the
part of a Clown. The other part of the Army, in the mean Time shall draw towards Onys,
Xaintouge, Angoulosme and Cascony; then march to Perigrout, Medos and Elanes, taking
wherever you come without resistance, Towns, Castles and Forts. Afterwards to Bayonne, St.
Ihon de luz, to F[...]entarabia, where you shall seize upon all the Ships and coasting along
Galicia and Por|tugal, shall pillage all the maritine Places, [...] [...]nto Lisbon, where you shall be
supplied [...] necessaries befitting a Conquerour. By Copsodi Spain will yield, for they are but a
race of Loobies. Then are you to pass by the streights of Gibralter, where you shall e|rect two
Pillars more stately then those of Hercu|les, to the perpetual memory of your Name and the
narrow Entrance, there shall be call'd the Picrochonical Sea.

Having past the Picrochonical sea, behold, Barbarossa yields himself your slave. I will (said
Picrochole) give him fair quarter. Yea (said they) so that he be content to be christened. And
you shall conquer the Kingdoms of Tu|nes, of Hippos, Argier, Bomine, Corode, yea all Barbary.
Furthermore, you shall take into your hands Majorca, Minorca, Sardinia, Corsica, with the other
Islands of the Ligustic and Balcarian Seas. Going alongst on the left Hand, you shall Subdue, all
Gallia Narbonensis, Pro+vence, 134 the Allobrogians, Genua, Florence, Luca, and then God
buy Rome, our poor Monsieur the Pope dyes now for fear. By my faith (said Picrochole,) I will
not Then kiss his Pantuffle.

Italy being thus taken, behold, Naples, Ca|labria, Aputia and Sicilie, all ransacked and Malta too.
I wish those Jovial, Quondam Knights of Rhodes, would but come to resist you, that we might
see their Urine. I would (said Picrochole) very willingly go to Loretta. No, no, (said they) that
shall be at our return. From thence we will sail Eastwards, and take Candia, Cyprus, Rhodes, and
the Cyclade Island, and set upon Morea. It is ours by [...], the Lord preserve Ierusalem; for [...]
Soldan, is not comparable to you in Power: I will then (said he,) cause Solomon's Temple to be
built. No, (said they) not yet, have a little patience, stay a while, be never too sudden in your
enterpriss.

Can you tell what Octavian Augustus said, Festina lente; it is requisite that you first have the
lesser Asia, Carra, Lycia, Pamphilia, Cilicia, Lydia, Phrygia, Mysia, Bithinia, Cara, Zia, Satalia,
Samagaria, Castamena, Luga, Sanasta, even unto Euphrates. Shall we see (said Picro|chole,)
Babylon and Mount Sinai? There is no need (said they) at this time; have we not hurried up and
down, travelled and toyl'd enough, in having transfreted and past over the Hircanian Sea,
marched alongst the two Armenias and the three Arabias? By my faith 135 (said he) we have
played the Fools, and are undone. Ha, poor Souls! What's the mat|ter, said they? What shall we
have (said he) to drink in these deserts? for Iulian Augustus, with his whole Army died there for
thirst, as they say. We have already (said they) given order for that: In the Siriac Sea, you have
nine thousand and fourteen great ships, laden with the best wines, in the world; they arrived at
Port-Ioppa, there you shall find two and twenty thousand Camels, and sixteen hundred
Elephants, which you shall find at one hunting about Sigelmes, when you enter into Libia; and
besides this, you will have all the Macca Caravane, will not they furnish you sufficiently with
 132

wine? Yes, but (said he) we shall not drink it fresh, that (said they,) is for a little fish, but a
mighty Man, a pretender, one that aspires to the Monarchy of the World cannot always have his
ease. God be thanked, that you and your men, are come safe and sound unto the banks of the
rive[...] Tigris.

But (said he) what doth that part of our Army in the mean time, which overthrows that worthy
Swill-pot, Grangousier? They are not idle (said they) we shall meet with them by and by, they
shall have won you Britany, Normandy, Flanders, Haynault, Brabant, Artois, Holland, Zealand,
they have past the Rhine over the bellies of the Switsers and Lanskenets, and a party of these hath
subdued Luxemburg, 136 Lorrain, Champaign and Savoy, even to Lions, in which place they
have met with your forces, returning from the naval Conquests of the Mediterranean Sea; and
have rallied again in Bohemia, after they had plundered and sacked Suevia, Wittemburg, Bavaria,
Austria, Moravia and Styria. Then they set fiercely together upon Lubeck, Norway, Swedeland,
Rie, Denmark· Guitland, Greenland, the Sterlins, even unto the frozen Sea. This done, they
con|quered the Isles of Orkney and subdued Scotland, England & Ireland. From thence sailing
through the sandy Sea, and by the Sarmates, they have van|quished and overcome Prussia,
Poland, Lituania, Russia, Walachia, Transilvania, Hungaria, Bulgaria, Turquieland and are now
at Constantinople. Come (said Picrochole) let us go joyn with them quick|ly for I will be
Emperour of Trebezonde also; shall we not kill all these dog Turks and Ma|humetans? What a
devil should we do else, said they; and you shall give their Goods and Lands to such as shall
have served you honestly. Reason (said he) will have it so, that is but just; I give unto you the
Caramania, Surie and all the Palestine. Ha, Sir (said they) it is your goodness: Grammercie, God
grant you may always prosper. There was present at the time an old Gentleman, well experienced
in in the Wars, a stern Souldier, and who had been in many great hazards, named Echephron,
who hearing this discourse, said, I do grealty doubt that all this enterprise will 137 be like the tail
of the pitcher full of Milk, where|with a Shomaker made himself rich in con|ceit; but when the
pitcher was broken, he had not whereupon to dine. What do you pre|tend by these large
Conquests? what shall be the end of so many labours and crosses? Thus it shall be (said
Picrochole) that when we return we shall sit down, rest and be merry. But (said Echephron,) if
by chance you should never come back, for the voyage is long and dangerous, where it not better
for us to take our rest now, then unneces|sarily to expose our selves to so many dan|gers? O (said
Swashbuckler,) by G--- here is a good dotard, come let us go hide our selves in the corner of a
Chimney and there spend the whole time of our life amongst Ladies, in threading of pea[...]ls, or
spinning like Sardanapalus. He that nothing ventures, hath neither Horse nor Mule (said
Solomon) He who adventureth too much (said Echepron) loseth both Horse and Mule, as
Malchon answered. Enough (said Picrochole,) go forward; I fear nothing but that these Devillish
Legions of Grangousier, whilst we are in Mesopotamia, will come on our backs and charge upon
our rear, what remedy then? A very good one (said Durtaille) send a pretty round Commission to
the Muscoviters. And they bring instantly into the Field for you four hundred and fifty thousand
choice fighting Men. O that you would but make me your Lieutenant General, 138 how I should
truss up the Rogues with dis|cipline? I fret, I charge, I strike, I take, I kill, I slay, I play the Devil.
On, on (said Picrochole) he that loves me, follow me.
 133

CHAP. XXXIV. How Gargantua left the City of Paris to Succour his Country, and how
Gymnast encountered with the E|nemy.

IN this same very hour, Gargantua (who was gone out of Paris, as soon as he had read his
Father's Letters) coming upon his great mare had already past the Nunnery-bridge himself;
Ponocrates, Gymnast and Eu|demon, to go along with him took Post-horses: The rest of his
Train came after him by even journeys, bringing with them all his Books and Philosophical
Instruments. As soon as he had alighted at Parille, he was infor|med by a Farmer of Gouget, how
Picrochole had fortified himself within the Rock Cler|mond; and had sent Captain Tripet with a
great Army to set upon the Wood of Vede and Vaugaudry; and that they had already plundered
the whole Country, not leaving Cock nor Hen, even as far as to the Wine|press 139 of Billiard;
and that it was a strange thing, and hardly to be credited, what ra|vage they had committed over
all the Land; which so affrighted Gargantua, that he knew not what to say, nor what to do. But
Pono|crates counselled him to go unto the Lord of Vauguyon, who at all times had been their
Friend and Confederate; and that by him they should be better advised in their Business: Which
they did incontinently, and found him very willing to assist them; and he was of opinion that they
should send some one of his Company, to scout along and discover the Country, to learn in what
con|dition and posture the Enemy was, that they might take Counsel, and proceed according to
the present occasion. Gymnast offering him|self to go; whereupon it was concluded, that for his
safety, and the better expedition, he should have with him some one that knew the Ways,
Avenues, Turnings, Windings and Rivers thereabout. Then away went he and Prelingot,
Gentleman of Vauguyon's Horse, who scouted and espied on all quarters with|out any fear. In the
mean time Gargantua took a little refreshment, eat somewhat him|self, the like did those that
were with him, and caused to give to his Mare a Picotine of Oats, that is, Threescore and
fourteen Quar|ters and three Bushels. Gymnast and his Camrade rode so long, that at last they
met with the Enemies Forces, all scattered and 140 out of order, Plundering, Stealing, Robbing
and Pillaging all they could lay their Hands on: And as far off as they could perceive him, they
ran thronging upon the back of one another in all haste towards him, to un|load him of his
Money, and untruss his Portmantles. Then cried he out unto them (My Masters) I am a poor
Devil, I desire you to spare me, I have yet one Crown left, come, we must drink it; for it is aurum
potabile, and this Horse here shall be sold to pay my welcom; afterwards take me for one of your
own; for never yet was there any Man that knew better how to take, lard, rost and dress, yea by
G--- to tear asunder and devour a Hen, then I that am here: And for my Beverage I drink to all
good Fellows. With that he unscrued his Leathern Bottle, and without putting in his Nose drank
very handsomly; the Rogues looked upon him, opening their Throats a Foot wide, and put|ting
out their Tongues like Greyhounds, in hopes to drink after him: But Captain Tripet, in the very
nick, came running to him to see who it was. To him Gymnast offer'd his Bottle, saying, Hold,
Captain, drink boldly and spare not; I have been thy taster, it is Wine of La fay monjau. What
(says Tripet) this Fellow gybes and flouts us; who art thou? (said Tripet) I am (said Gymnast) a
poor Devil (pauvre diable.) Ha (said Tripet) seeing thou art a poor Devil, it is reason that 141
thou shouldst be permitted to go whither-soever thou wilt, for all poor Devils pass every where
without toll or tax; but it is not the custom of poor Devils to be so well mounted, therefore, Sir
Devil, come down, and let me have your Horse, and if he do not carry me well, you, Master
Devil, must do it; for I love a Life that such a Devil as you should carry me away.
 134

CHAP. XXXV. How Gymnast very nimbly killed Captain Tripet, and others of Pi|crochole's
Men

WHen they heard these words, some amongst them began to be afraid, and blest themselves with
both hands, think|ing indeed that he had been a Devil disguised: Insomuch that one of them,
named Good Iohn, Captain of the trained Bands took his Psalter out of his Codpiece, and cried
out a|loud, Hagios ho Theos. If thou be of God speak, if thou be of the other Spirit avoid hence,
and get thee going. Yet he went not away; which words being heard by all the Souldiers that
were there, divers of them being a little inwardly terrified, departed from the place: All this did
Gymnast very 142 well remark and consider, and therefore ma|king as if he would have alighted
from off his Horse, as he was poising himself on the mounting side, he most nimbly (with his
short Sword by his Thigh) shifting his feet in the stirrup, performed the stirrup-leather feat,
whereby after the inclining of his Body downwards, he forthwith launch'd himself aloft in the
Air, and placed both his Feet toge|ther on the Saddle, standing upright with his back turned
towards the Horse's head; Now (said he) my case goes backward. Then suddenly in the same
very posture wherein he was, he fetched a gambole upon one foot, and turn|ing to the left hand,
failed not to carry his Body perfectly round, just into its former stance, without missing one jot.
Ha (said Tripet) I will not do that at this time, and not without cause. Well (said Gymnast) I have
failed, I will undo this leap: Then with a marvellous strength and agility, turning towards the
right hand he fetch'd another frisking gambole, as before, which done, he set his right hand
thumb upon the hind bow of the Saddle, raised him up, and sprung in the Air, poising and
upholding his whole Body, upon the Muscle and Nerve of the said Thumb; and so turned and
whirled him|self about three times. At the fourth re|versing his Body, and overturning it upside
down, and foreside back, without touching any thing he brought himself betwixt the 143 Horse's
two Ears, springing with al[...] his Body into the Air, upon the Thumb of his left Hand, and in
that posture turning like a Wind-mill, did most actively do that trick which is called the
Mill[...]r's Pass. After this, clapping his right Hand flat upon the middle of the Saddle, he gave
himself such a jerking swing, that he thereby seated himself upon the Crupper, after the manner
of Gentle|women.

This done, he easily past his right Leg over the Saddle, and placed himself like one that rides in
Croup: But (said he) it were better for me to get into the Saddle; then putting the Thumbs of both
Hands upon the Crupper before him, and thereupon lean|ing himself, as upon the only Supporters
of his Body, he incontinently turned heels over Head in the Air, and streight found himself
betwixt the bow of the Saddle in a good seat. Then with a Summer-sault springing into the Air
again, he fell to stand with both his Feet close together upon the Saddle, and there made above a
hundred frisks, turns and demi-pommads, with his Arms held out a|cross, and in so doing cried
out aloud, I rage, I rage, Devils, I am stark mad; Devils, I am mad, hold me, Devils, hold me;
hold, Devils, hold, hold.

Whilst he was thus vaulting, the Rogues in great astonishment said to one another, By Cocks
death, he is a Goblin or a Devil thus 144 disguised; Ab hoste maligno libera nos, Domine, and
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ran away as in a total rout, looking now and then behind them like a Dog that had stoln a
Pudding.

Then Gymnast spying his advantage, a|lighted from his Horse, drew his Sword, and laid on great
Blows upon the thickest, and highest crested amongst them, and overthrew them in great heaps,
hurt, wounded and bruised, being resisted by no body, they thinking he had been a starved Devil,
as well in regard of his wonderful feats in vaulting, which they had seen, as for the Talk Tripet
had with him, calling him poor Devil. Only Tripet would have traiterously cleft his head with his
Fauchion; but he was well armed, and felt nothing of the Blow, but the weight of the stroke;
whereupon turning suddenly about, he gave Tripet a home thrust, and upon the back of that,
whilst he was about to ward his Head from a slash, he ran him in at the Breast with a hit, which
at once cut his Stomach, the Colon, and the half of his Liver, wherewith he fell to the ground; and
in falling gushed forth above four Pot|tles of Pottage, and his Soul mingled with the Pottage.

This done, Gymnast withdrew himself, very wisely considering, that a case of great adventure
and hazard, should not be pursued unto its utmost period, and that it becomes all Cavaliers
modestly to use their good Fortune, 145 without troubling or stretching it too far. Where|fore
getting to Horse, he gave him the Spur, taking the right way unto Vauguyon; and Pre|lingot with
him.

CHAP. XXXVI. How Gargantua demolished the Castle at the Ford of Vede, and how they
past the Ford.

AS soon as he came thither, he related the Estate and Condition wherein they had found the
Enemy, and the Stratagem which he alone had used against all their multitude; affirming that
they were but rascally Rogues, Plunderers, Thieves and Robbers, ignorant of all military
Discipline, and that they might boldly set forward unto the Field; it being an easie matter to fell
and strike them down like Beasts, then Gar|gantua mounted his great Mare, accompanied as we
have said before, and finding in his way a high and great Tree (which com|monly was called St.
Martin's Tree, because heretofore St. Martin planted a Pilgrim's staff there; which grew to that
height and greatness) said, This is that which I lacked; this Tree shall serve me both for a Staff
and Lance: With that he pulled it up easily, pluck|ed 146 it off the Boughs, and trimed it at his
pleasure. In the mean time his Mare pissed to ease her Belly, but it was in such abun|dance, that
it did overflow the Country Seven Leagues, and all the flood ran glib away towards the Ford of
Vede, wherewith the Water was so swollen, that all the Forces the Enemy had there, were with
great hor|ror drowned, except some who had taken the way on the left hand towards the Hills.
Gargantua being come to the Wood of Vede, was informed by Eudemon, that there was some
remainder of the Enemy within the Castle, which to know, Gargantua cried out as loud as he
was able, Are you there, or are you not there? If you be there, be there no more; and if you be
not there, I have no more to say. But a Ruffian Gunner at the Portcullis, let fly a Cannot-ball at
him, and hit him with that shot most furiously on the right Temple of his head, yet did him no
more hurt, then if he had but cast a Grape-stone at him: What is this? (said Gargantua) do yo
 136

throw at us Grape-stones here? The Vintage shall cost you dear, thinking indeed that the Bul|let
had been the stone of a Grape.

Those who were within the Castle, being till then busie at the pillage, when they heard this noise,
ran to the Towers and For|tresses, from whence they shot at him above Nine thousand and five
and twenty Falcon|shot and Harcabusades, aiming all at his 147 Head; and so thick did they
shoot at him, that he cried out, Ponocrates my Friend, These Flies are like to put out mine Eyes;
give me a Branch of those Willow-trees to drive them away, thinking that the Bullets and Stones
shot out of the great Ordnance had been but Dun-flies. Ponocrates looked and saw there were no
other Flies, but great shot which they had shot from the Castle. Then was it that he rusht with his
great Tree a|gainst the Castle, and with mighty blows overthrew both Towers and Fortresses, and
laid all level with the Ground, by which means all that were within were slain and broken in
pieces.

Going from thence, they came to the Bridge at the Mill, where they found all the Ford covered
with dead Bodies, so thick, that they had choaked up the Mill, and stop|ped the current of its
Water; and these were those that were destroyed in the Urinal Deluge of the Mare. There they
were at a stand, consulting how they might pass with|out hindrance by these dead Carcasses. But
Gymnast said, If the Devils have past there, I will pass well enough. The Devils have past there
(said Eudemon) to carry away the damned Souls. By St. Rhenian (said Pono|crates) then by
necessary consequence he shall pass there. Yes, yes (said Gymnastes) or I shall stick in the way.
Then setting Spurs to his Horse, he past through freely, 148 his Horse not fearing, nor being any
ways affrighted at the sight of the dead Bodies. For he had accustomed him (according to the
Doctrin of Aelian) not to fear Armour, nor the Carcasses of dead Men; and that not by killing
Men as Diomedes did the Thracians, or as Vlysses did in throwing the Corpses of his Enemies at
his Horses feet, as Homer saith; but by putting a Iack a-lent amongst his hay, and making him go
over it ordinarily, when he gave him his Oats.

The other three followed him very close, except Eudemon only, whose Horses far fore|foot sank
up to the Knee in the Paunch of a great fat Chuff, who lay there upon his back drowned, and
could not get it out. There was he pester'd, until Gargantua with the end of his Staff thrust down
the rest of the Vil|lain's Tripes into the Water, whilst the Horse pulled out his Foot; and (which is
a won|derful thing in Hippiatry) the said Horse was throughly cured of a Ringbone which he had
in that Foot, by this touch of the burst guts of that great Looby.

149

CHAP. XXXVII. How Gargantua in combing his Head made the great Cannon-ball fall out
of his Hair.

HAving got over the River of Vede, they came very shortly after to Grangousier's Castle, who
waited for them with great long|ing; at their coming there was such Hug|ging and Embracing,
never was seen a more joyful Company; for Supplementum supplementi Chronicorum, saith, that
Gargamelle died there with joy. For my part, truly I cannot tell, neither do I care very much for
 137

her, nor for any body else. The truth was, that Gar|gantua in shifting his Clothes, and combing
his Head with a Comb Nine hundred Foot long, and the teeth all Tusks of Elephants, whole and
entire, he made fall at every rake above seven Balls that stuck in his Hair, at the razing of the
Castle at the Wood of Vede. Which his Father Grangousier seeing, thought they had been Lice,
and said unto him, What, my dear Son, hast thou brought us thus far some short-winged Hawks
of the College of Montague? I did not mean that thou shouldst reside there. Then answered
Ponocrates, My Sovereign Lord, think not that I have placed him in that lowsie Col|lege, 150
which they call Montague; I had ra|ther have put him amongst the Grave-diggers of Sanct
Innocent, so enormous is the Cruelty and Villainy that I have known there; for the Gally-slaves
are far better used amongst the Moors and Tartars, the Murtherers in the criminal Dungeons, yea
the very Dogs in your House, then are poor wretched Stu|dents in the aforesaid College. And,
were I King of Paris, the Devil take me if I would not set it on fire, and burn both Principal and
Regents, for suffering this Inhumanity to be exercised before their Eyes. Then taking up one of
these Bullets, he said, these are Can|non-shot, which your Son Gargantua hath lately received by
the Treachery of your E|nemies, as he was passing before the Wood of Vede.

But they have been so rewarded, that they are all destroyed in the Ruin of the Castle, as were the
Philistines by the Policy of Samp|son, and those whom the Tower of Silohim slew, as it is written
Luc. 13. My opinion is, that we pursue them whilst the luck is on our side, for Occasion hath all
her Hair on her Forehead, when she is past you may not re|cal her; she is bald in the hind part of
her Head, and never returneth again. Truly (said Grangousier) it shall not be at this time; for I
will make you a Feast this Night, and bid you welcom.

151 This said, they made ready Supper, and of extraordinary besides his daily fare, were roasted
sixteen Oxen, three Heifers, two and thirty Calves, threescore and three fat Kids, fourscore and
fifteen Wethers, three hundred Barrow-pigs sowced in sweet Wine, eleven|score Partridges,
seven hundred Snites and Woodcocks, four hundred Loudon and Cornwal-Capons, six thousand
Pullets and as many Pi|geons, six hundred crammed Hens, fourteen hundred Liverets, three
hundred and three Buzzards, and one thousand and seven hundred Cockrels. For Venison, they
could not so sud|denly come by it, only eleven wild Boars, which the Abbot of Turpenay sent,
and eigh|teen fallow Deer which the Lord of Gramount bestowed; together with sevenscore
Phe|sants which were sent by the Lord of Essars; and some dozens of Queests, Coushots,
Ring|doves and Woodculvers; River-fowl, Teals and Awteals, Bittorns, Courtes, Plovers,
Francolins, Briganders, Tyrasons, young Lapwings, tame Ducks, Shovelers, Woodlanders,
Herons, Moor-Hens, Criels, Storks, Canepetiers, Oronges, Fla|mans, which are Phaenicopters,
Terrigoles, Turkies, Arbens, Coots, Solingeese, Curlews, Termagants and Water-wagtails, with a
great deal of Cream, Curds and fresh Cheese, and store of Soupe, Pottages and Brewis with
variety. Without doubt there was meat enough, and it was handsomly drest by Snapsauce,
Hotch|pot and Brayverjuice, Grangousier's Cooks. 152 Ieken, Trudg apace and Clean-glass,
were very careful to fill them drink.

CHAP. XXXVIII. How Gargantua did eat up six Pil|grims in a Sallet.

 138

THE Story requireth, that we relate which happened unto six Pilgrims, who came from Sebastian
near to Nantes: and who for shelter that night, being afraid of the Enemy, had hid themselves in
the Garden upon the chichling Pease, among the Cabbages and Lettices. Gargantua finding
himself somewhat dry, asked whether they could get any Lettice to make him a Sallet; and
hearing that there were the greatest and fairest in the Country (for they were as great as Plum-
trees, or as Walnut-trees) he would go thi[...]her himself, and brought thence in his hand what he
thought good, and with|al carried away the six Pilgrims, who were in so great fear, they did not
dare to speak nor cough.

Washing them therefore first at the Foun|tain, the Pilgrims said one to another softly, What shall
we do? we are almost drowned here amongst these Lettice, shall we speak? But if we speak, he
will kill us for Spies. And as they 153 were thus deliberating what to do, Gargan|tua put them
with the Lettice into a platter of the House, as large as the huge Tun of the Cister[...]ians, which
done, with Oil, Vinegar and Salt he eat them up, to refresh himself a little before Supper; and had
already swal|lowed up five of the Pilgrims, the sixth being in the Platter, totally hid under a
Lettice, except his Staff that appeared, and nothing else. Which Grangousier seeing, said to
Gar|gantua, I think that is the Horn of a Shell-snail, do not eat it. Why not (said Gar|gantua)
they are good all this Month, which he no sooner said, but drawing up the Staff, and therewith
taking up the Pilgrim, he eat him very well, then drank a terrible draught of excellent White-
wine, and expected Sup|per to be brought up.

The Pilgrims thus devoured, made shift to save themselves as well as they could, by withdrawing
their bodies out of the reach of the Grinders of his Teeth, but could not es|cape from thinking
they had been put in the lowest Dungeon of a Prison. And when Gargantua whiffed the great
draught, they thought to have been drowned in his mouth, and the flood of Wine had almost
carried them away into the Gulf of his Stomach. Nevertheless skipping with their Staves, as St.
Michael's Palmers use to do, they shelter'd themselves from the danger of that Inundation, under
the Banks of his Teeth. But one of 154 them by chance, groping or sounding the Country with
his staff, to try whether they were in safety or no, struck hard against the cleft of a hollow tooth,
and hit the mandibu|lary Sinew, or nerve of the Jaw, which put Gargantua to very great pain, so
that he be|gan to cry for the rage that he felt. To ease himself therefore of his smarting ach, he
called for his Tooth-picker, and rubbing to|wards a young Walnut-tree, unnestled you my
Gentlemen Pilgrims.

For he caught one by the Legs, another by the scrip, another by the Pocket, another by the Scarf,
another by the band of the Breeches, and the poor Fellow that had hurt him with the staff, him he
hooked to him by the Codpiece, which snatch nevertheless did him a great deal of good, for it
broke upon him a pocky botch he had in the Groin, which grievously tormented him ever since
they were past Ancenis. The Pilgrims thus dis|lodged ran away athwart the plain a pretty fast
pace, and the pain ceased, even just at the time when by Eudemon he was called to Sup|per, for
all was ready. I will go then (said he) and piss away my misfortune, which he did do in such a
copious measure, that the Urin taking away the Feet from the Pil|grims, they were carried along
with the stream unto the bank of a tuft of Trees: Upon which, as soon as they had taken foot|ing,
and that for their self-preservation they 155 had run a little out of the road, they on a sudden fell
all six, except Fourniller, into a trap that had been made to take Wolves by a train; out of which
they escaped neverthe|less by the industry of the said Fourniller, who broke all the snares and
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ropes. Being gone from thence, they lay all the rest of that night in a Lodge near unto Coudry,
where they were comforted in their Miseries, by the gracious words of one of their Company,
called Sweer|togo, who shewed them that this adventure had been foretold by the Prophet David,
Psalm. Quum exurgerent homines in nos, fortè vivos de|glutissent nos; when we were eaten in
the Sallet, with Salt, Oil and Vinegar. Quum irasceretur furor eorum in nos, forsitan aqua
abfor|buisset nos; when he drank the great draught. Torrentem pertransivit anima nostra; when
the stream of his water carried us to the thicket. Forsitan pertransisset anima nostra aquam
intole|rabilem; that is, the water of his Urin, the flood whereof cutting our way, took our feet
from us. Benedictus Dominus qui non dedit nos in captionem dentibus eorum: Anima nostra
sicut passer erepta est de laqueo venantium; when we fell in the trap. Laqueus contritus est, by
Four|niller. Et nos liberati sumus. Adjutorium no|strum, &c.

156

CHAP. XXXIX. How the Monk was feasted by Gar|gantua, and of the jovial discourse they
had at supper.

WHen Gargantua was set down at ta|ble, and all of them had somewhat stayed their stomacs;
Grangousier began to relate the source and cause of the War, raised between him and Picrocbole
and came to tell how Friar Ihon of des Entoumeures, the Funnels, had triumph|ed at the defence
of the Close of the Abbey, and extolled him for his valour above Camillus, Scipio, Pompey,
Caesar and Themistocles. Then Gargantua desired that he might be presently sent for, to the End
that with him they might consult of what was to be done, whereupon by a Joynt consent the
Master[...]d' Hotel, went for him and brought him along merrily, with his staff of the Cross upon
Grangousier's Mule. When he was come a thousand huggings, a thousand embracements, a
thousand good days were given: Ha Friar Ihon my friend, Frier Ihon, my brave cousin Frier Ihon,
from the Divil, let me clip thee about the neck; let me have thee in my Arms and must gripe thee,
(my Cod) till thy back crack; and Frier Ihon the gladdest Man in the world, never was Man made
welcomer, never was any more courteously and graciously received then Friar Ihon. Come, come
(said Gargantua) 157 a stool here close by meat this end; with all my Heart (said the Monk)
seeing you will have it so; Some water (Page) fill, my boy fill, it is to refresh my Liver; give me
some (child) to gargle my throat withal, Depositâ cappâ, (said Gymnast) let us pull of this frock.
Ho by G--- Gentleman (said the Monk) there is a Chapter in statutis Ordi|nis, which opposeth
my laying of it down: Pish (said Gymnast) a fig for your Chapter, this frock breaks both your
shoulders, put it off; my friend (said the Monk,) let me alone with it, for by G--- I'le drink the
better that it is on, it makes all my Body jocund: If I should lay it aside, the waggish Pages would
cut to themselves garters out of it, as I was once served at Coulaines; and which is worse, I
should lose my appetite, but if in this habit I set down at Table, I will drink by G--- both to thee
and to thy horse, and so courage, frolic, God save the company, I have already supt, yet I will eat
never a whit the less for that, for I have a paved stomac, as hollow as St. Benet's boot, always
open like a Lawyers pouch. Of all fishes but the Tench, take the wing of a Partridg, or the thigh
of a Nunn, doth no[...] he die like a good fellow that dies with a stiff Catso? Our Prior loves
exceedingly the white of a Capon: in that (said Gymnast) he doth not resemble the Foxes; for of
the C[...]pons, Hens and Pullets which they carry away, they 158 never eat the white: Why? (said
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the Monk) Because (said Gymnast) they have no Cooks to dress them, and if they be not
competently made ready, they remain red and not white; the redness of meats being a token that
they have not got enough of the fire, ex|cept the Shrimps, Lobsters, Crabs and Cray|fishes, which
are Cardinalised with boyling; Gods Fish (said the Monk) the Porter of our Abbey then hath not
his head well-boyled, for his Eyes are as red as a mazer made of an Alder-tree. The thigh of this
Leveret is good for those that have the Gout. Some natural Philosophy; ha, ha, what is the
reason that the Thighs of a Gentlewoman are always fresh and cool? This Problem (said
Gargantua) is nei|ther in Aristotle, in Alexander Aphrodiseus, nor in Plutarch. There are three
Causes (said the Monk) by which that place is naturally refreshed. Pri|mò, because the water
runs all along it. Se|cundò, because it is a shady place, obscure and dark, upon which the Sun
never shines. And thirdly, because it is continually blown upon, and aired by a reverberation
from the back-door, by the fan of the smock, and flipflap of the Codpiece. And lusty my Lads,
some bousing liquor, Page; so, Crack, crack, crack. O what a good God have we, that gives us
this ex|cellent Juice! I call him to witness, if I had been in the time of Iesus Christ, I would have
kept him from being taken by the Iews in the Garden of Olivet; and the Devil fail me, if 159 I
should have failed to cut off the hams of these Gentlemen Apostles, who ran away so basely after
they had well supped, and left their good Master in the lurch. I hate that Man worse then poison
that offers to run a|way, when he should fight and lay stoutly a|bout him. Oh that I were but King
of France for fourscore or an hundred years! by G--- I should whip like curtail-dogs these run-
a|ways of Pavie. A plague take them, why did they not chuse rather to die there than to leave
their good Prince in that pinch and ne|cessity? Is it not better and more honourable to perish in
fighting valiantly than to live in disgrace by a cowardly running away? We are like to eat no
great store of goslings this year, therefore, friend, reach me some of that rosted pig there.

Diavolo, is there no more must? no more sweet Wine? Germinavit radix Iesse, I re|nounce my
Life, I die for thirst. This Wine is none of the worst.; what Wine drink you at Paris? I give my
self to the Devil, if I did not once keep open house at Paris for all com|mers six Months together.
Do you know Fri|ar Claude of the high kildrekins? Oh the good Fellow that he is! but what Fly
hath stung him of late, he is become so hard a Student? for my part I study not at all. In our
Abbey we never study for fear of the mumps. Our late Abbot was wont to say, that it is a
mon|strous thing to see a learned Monk, by G--- 160 Master my friend, Magis Magnos, clericos
non sunt, magis magnos sapientes. You never saw so many hares as there are this Year. I could
not any where come by a gos|hawk nor tassel of falcon; my Lord Beloniere promised me a
Lanner, but he wrote to me not long ago, that he was become pursie: The Patridges will so
multiply henceforth, that they will go near to eat up our ears; I take no delight in the stalking-
horse, for I catch such cold, that I am like to founder my self at that sport, if I do not run, toil,
travel and trot about, I am not well at ease. True it is, that in Leaping over Hedges and Bushes
my Frock leaves always some of its Wool behind it; I have recovered a dainty grey-Hound; I
give him to the Devil if he suffer a hare to escape him. A groom was leading him to my Lord
Hunt-little, and I robbed him of him; did I ill? No Friar Ihon, (said Gymnast,) no by all the devils
that are, no. So (said the Monk) do I attest these same devils so long as they last, vertue G---
what could that gowty Limpard have done with so fine a Dog? by the body of G--- he is better
pleased, when one presents him with a good yoke of Oxen. How now? (said Ponocrates,) you
swear, Friar Ihon; It is only (said the Monk) but to grace and adorn my speech; they are colours
of a Cice|ronian Rhetoric.
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161

CHAP. XL. Why Monks are the out-casts of the world? and wherefore some have bigger
noses then others?

BY the faith of a Christian (said Eudemon) I am highly transported, when, I con|sider what an
honest Fellow this Monk is; for he makes us all merry. How is it then that they exclude the
Monks, from all good Companies? calling them feast-troublers, as the Bees drive away the
drones from their Hives? Ignavum fucos, pecus (said Maro) á pre|sepibus arcent. Here-unto
answer'd Gargantua, there is nothing so true, as that the Frock and Cowle draw to them the
Opprobries, Injuries and Maledictions of the World, just as the Wind call'd Cecias attracts the
Clouds, the peremptory reason is, because they eat the Turd of the World, that is to say, they feed
upon the Sins of the people: And as a noysom thing, they are cast in[...]o the Privies; that is the
Convents and Abbyes, separated from civil conversation, as the Privies and Retreats of a House
are; but if you conceive how an Ape in a family is always mocked, and provoking|ly incensed,
you shall easily apprehend how Monks are shunned of all Men, both young and old: the Ape
keeps not the House as a 162 Dog doth. He draws not in the Plow as the Oxe, he yields neither
Milk nor Wool as the Sheep; he carrieth no burthen as a Horse doth; that which he doth, is only
to conskit, spoil and defile all, which is the cause wherefore he hath of all men mocks,
frum|peries and bastonadoes.

After the same manner a Monk (I mean those little, idle lazie Monks) do not labour and work, as
do the Peasant and Artificer, doth not ward and defend the Countrey, as doth the Souldier cureth
not the sick and diseased, as the Physician doth; doth neither preach nor teach, as do the
Evangelical Doctors and Schoolmasters; doth not import commodities and things necessary for
the Com|mon-wealth, as the Merchant doth; therefore [...]s it, that by, and of, all Men they are
hoo|ted at, hated and abhorred. Yea, but (said Grangousier,) they pray to God for us. Nothing
less (answered Gargantua:) True it is, with a tingle tangle, jangling of bells they trouble and
disquiet all their neighbours about them. Right (said the Monk) a Mass, a Matine, a Vesper well
rung and half said. They mumble out great store of Legends and Psalms, by them not at all
understood: they say many Pa[...] enotres, interlarded with ave-maries, with|out thinking upon, or
apprehending the mean|ing of, what it is they say, which truly I call mocking of God, and not
Prayers. But so help them God, as they Pray for us, and not 163 for being afraid to lose their
Victuals, their Manchots, and good fat Pottage. All true Christians, of all estates and conditions,
in all Places and at all times send up their Pray|ers to God and the Spirit; prayeth and in|tercedeth
for them, and God is gracious to them. Now such a one is our good Friar Ihon, therefore every
Man desireth to have him in his company, he is no bigot, he is not for division; he is an honest
Heart, plain, re|solute, good Fellow, he travels, he labours, he defends the oppressed, comforts
the afflicted helps the needy and keeps the Close of the Abbey: Nay (said the Monk) I do a great
deal more then that; for whilest we are in dispatching our Matines and Anniversaries, in the
Quire; I make withal, some crosse bow|strings, polish glasse-Bottles and Boults; I twist Lines
and weave purse-Nets, wherein to catch coneys. I am never idle; but Hola, Fill, Fill, some Drink,
some Drink, here bring the Fruit; these Chestnuts are of the Wood of Estrox, and with good new
Wine, will make you a Composer of Bumsonnets. You are not yet well liquor'd; by G--- I drink
 142

at all Fords like a Promoters horse. Fri|ar Ihon (said Gymnast) take away the snot that hangs at
your Nose. Ha, ha (said the Monk) am not I in danger of drowning, seeing I am in water even to
the Nose? No, no, quare? quia, tho' it comes out thence abundantly, yet there 164 never goes in
any; for it is well antidoted with Syrrup of the Vine.

O my friend, he that hath winter-boots made of such leather, may boldly fish for Oy|sters, for
they will never take Water. What is the cause (said Gargantua) that Friar Ihon hath such a
goodly Nose? Because (said Grangousi|er) that God would have it so, who frameth us in such
form, and for such end, as is most a|greable to his divine Will, even as a Potter fashioneth his
Vessels. Because (said Ponocra|tes) he came with the first to the Fair of Noses, and therefore
made choice of the fairest and and the greatest. Pish (said the Monk) that is not the reason of it,
but, according to the true Monastical Philosophy, it is because my Nurse had soft teats, by vertue
whereof, whilst she gave me suck, my nose did sink in as in so much Butter. The hard Breasts of
Nurses make children short-nosed. But hey gay, Ad formam nasi cognoscitur ad te levavi. I am
for no sweet Stuff with my Tipple, Boy; Item, rather some tosts.

165

CHAP. XLI. How the Monk made Gargantua sleep, and of his Hours and Breviaries.

SUpper being ended, they consulted of the business in hand, and concluded that a|bout midnight
they should fall unawares up|on the enemy, to know what manner of watch and ward they kept;
and in the mean while take a little rest, the better to refresh them|selves. But Gargantua could not
sleep by any means, on which side soever he turned himself. Whereupon the Monk said to him, I
never sleep soundly, but when I am at Sermon or Pray|ers. Let us therefore begin, you and I, the
seven penitential Psalms, to try whether you shall not quickly fall asleep. The conceit pleased
Gargantua very well, and beginning the first of these Psalms, as soon as they came to Be|ati
quorum, they fell asleep both the one and the other. But the Monk for his being for|merly
accustomed to the hour of Claustral ma|tines, failed not to awake a little before mid|night, and
being up himself awaked all the rest, in singing aloud, and with a full clear voice, the song,

Awake, O Reinian, awake;

Awake, O Reinian, Ho·
166 Get up for a Pot and a Cake;
With a diddle dum, diddle dum, do.

When they were all rowsed and up, he said, My Masters, it is a usual saying, that we begin
Matines with coughing, and supper with drinking; let us now (in doing clean contrari|ly) begin
our Matines, with drinking, and at Night before supper, we shall cough as hard as we can. What?
(said Gargantua) to drink so soon after sleep, this is not to live by the rule of Physicians; for you
ought first to scour and cleanse your stomac of all its superfluities: O rot your Physicians, said
the Monk, a hundred devils leap into my body, if there be not more old Drunkards, then old
Physicians. I have made this paction and covenant with my Appetite, that it always lieth down,
and goes to Bed with me (for of that I take very good care) and then it also riseth with me the
 143

next Morning, tend your cures as much as you will, I will get me to my tiring. What tiring do
you mean (said Gargan|tua?) My Breviary (said the Monk) for just as the Falconers, before they
feed their Hawks, do make them tire at a hens leg, to purge their Brains of flegm, and sharpen
them to a good Appetite; so by taking this jolly little Brevi|ary, in the Morning I scour all my
Lungs, and find my self ready to drink.

After what manner (said Gargantua) do you say these belly heures of yours? After the man|ner
167 of Whipfield, said the Monk, by three Psalms, and three Lessons, or nothing at all, he that
will. I never tye my self to hours, les heures are made for the Man, and not the Man for les
heures; therefore is it that I make my Prayers in fashion of stirrup-leathers; I shor|ten or lengthen
them when I think good. Bre|vis Oratio penetrat coelos, & long a potatio evacuat Scyphos.

Where is that written? by my faith (said Ponocrates) I cannot tell, my Pillicock, but thou art
worth gold; like you Sir, said the Monk; but venite, apotemus. Then made they ready rashers on
the Coals in abundance, and good fat Brewis with Sippets; and the Monk drank at pleasure. Some
kept him company, and did as he did; others let it alone. Afterwards e|very Man began to arm
and equip himself for battle, and they armed the Monk against his Will; for he desired no other
Armour for Back and Breast, but his frock, nor any other weapon in his hand, but the staff of the
Cross; yet at their pleasure was he armed cap a-pe, and mounted upon one of the best Horses in
the Kingdom, with a good slashing sable by his side, together with him were Gargantua,
Pono|crates, Gymnast, Eudemon, and five and twenty more of the most resolute and adventurous
of Grangousier's house, all armed at proof with their lances in their hands, mounted like St.
George, and every one of them having a har|quebuse behind him.

168

CHAP. XLII. How the Monk encouraged his Fellow-Champions, and how he hanged upon
a Tree.

THus went out those valiant Champi|ons on their adventure, in full reso|lution, to know what
enterprise they should undertake and what to be aware of, in the day of the great and horrible
battle. And the Monk encouraged them saying, my Children do not fear, nor doubt, I will conduct
you safely: God and Sanct Benedict be with us. If I had strength answerable to my courage, by
sdeath I would plume them for you like ducks. I fear nothing but the great Ordnance; yet I know
a Prayer, which the subsexton of our Abby taught me, that will preserve a man from the violence
of guns and all man|ner of fire engines; but it will do me no good, because I do not believe it.
However, my staff of the Cross, will be the devil Parblen, who|ever is a Duck, amongst you, I
give my self to the Devil, if I do not make a Monk of him in my stead, and hamper him within
my Frock; which is a cure for cowardise.

Did you never hear of my Lord Meurles his Grey-Hound, which was not worth a straw in the
fields; he put a Frock about his 169 neck, by the body of G--- there was neither Hare nor Fox
that could escape him, and which is more, he lined all the bitches in the Country, though before
that he was fee|ble-reined, and ex frigidis & Maleficiatis.
 144

The Monk uttering these words in choler, as he past under a walnut-Tree, in his way towards the
Causey, he broached the vizor of his Helmet, on the stump of a great branch of the Tree;
nevertheless, he set his spurs so fiercely to the Horse, who was full of mettle and quick on the
spur, that he bounded forwards and the Monk going about to ungrap|ple his vizor, let go his hold
of the bridle and so hanged by his hand upon the bough, whilest his horse stole away from under
him. By this means was the Monk left, hanging on the walnut-Tree, and crying for help, murther,
murther, swearing also that he was betrayed. Eudemon, perceived him first and calling
Gargantua, said, Sir, come and see Absalom hanging. Gargantua being come, con|sidered the
countenance of the Monk, and in what posture he hanged; wherefore he said to Eudemon, You
were mistaken in comparing him to Absalom; for Absalom hung by his Hair, but this shaveling
Monk hangeth by the Ears. Help me (said the Monk·) in the devils Name, is this a time for you to
flout, you seem to me the decretalist Preachers, who say, that whosoever shall see his neighbour
in danger of death, ought upon pain of trisulk excommuni|cation, 170 rather to admonish him to
make Confession and put his Conscience in the state of Grace, then to help him.

And therefore when I shall see them fallen into a river, and ready to be drowned, in|stead of
lending them my hand and pulling them out, I shall make them a fine long Sermon de contemptu
mundi, & fuga seculi, and when they are stark dead, then go go fish for them. Be quiet (said
Gymnast) and stir not, my Minion; I am now coming to unhang thee, for thou art a pretty little
gentle Mona|chus, Monachus, in claustro non valet ova duo, sed quando est extra bene valet
triginta. I have seen above five hundred hanged, but I ne|ver saw any hang with so good a Grace;
truly if I had so good a one, I would willingly hang thus all my life-time. What (said the Monk)
have you almost done preaching? help me in the name of God, seeing you will not in the name of
the other spirit, or by the habit which I wear, you shall repent it, tempore & loco praelibatis.

Then Gymnast alighted from his horse, and climbing up the walnut-Tree, lifted up the Monk with
one hand, by the gushets of his Armour under the Arm-pits, and with the other undid his Vizor
from the stump of the broken Branch, which done, he let him fall to the Ground, and himself
after. As soon as the Monk was down, he put off all his Armor, and threw away one piece 171
after another about the Field, and taking to him again his Staff of the Cross, remounted up to his
Horse, which Eudemon had caught in his running away. Then went they on merrily, riding on the
high way.

CHAP. XLIII. How the Scouts and fore-Party of Pi|crochole were met with by Gar|gantua,
and how the Monk slew Captain Drawforth, and then was taken Prisoner by his Enemies.

PIcrochole at the relation of those who had escaped out of the broil and defeat, wherein Tripet
was untriped, grew very an|gry that the Devils should have so run upon his Men, and held all that
night a Counsel of War, [Note: Hastueau Tou|quedillon. ] at which Rashcalf and Touchfaucet
concluded his power to be such, that he was able to defeat all the Devils of Hell, if they should
come to justle with his Forces. This Picrochole did not fully be|lieve, though he doubted not
much of it. Therefore sent he under the command and conduct of the Count Drawforth, for
discove|ring of the Country, the number of sixteen 172 hundred Horsemen, all well-mounted
 145

upon light Horses for skirmish, and throughly be|sprinkled with Holy Water; and every one for
their cognizance had a Star in his Scarf, to serve at all adventures, in case they should happen to
encounter with Devils; that by the Vertue, as well of that Gregorian Water, as of the Stars, they
might make the Devils disappear and vanish.

In this Equipage, they made an excursion upon the Country, till they came near to Vauguyon, and
to the Hospital, but could never find any body to speak unto; whereupon they returned a little
back, and by chance in a Shepherds Cottage near to Coudray, they found five Pilgrims; these
they carried away bound and manacled, as if they had been Spies, for all the Exclamations,
Adjurations and Requests that they could make. Being come down from thence towards Seville,
they were heard by Gargantua, who said then unto those that were with him; Camerades and
Fellow Souldiers, we have here met with an Encounter, and they are ten times in number more
than we: Shall we charge them or no? What a Devil (said the Monk) shall we do else? Do you
esteem Men by their number, rather than by their valour and prowess? With this he cried out,
Charge, Devils, charge. Which when the Enemies heard, they thought certainly that they had
been very Devils, and therefore even then began 173 all of them to run away as hard as they
could drive, Draw-forth only excepted, who imme|diately settled his Lance on its rest, and
therewith hit the Monk with all his force on the very middle of his Breast, but coming a|gainst his
horrific Frock, the point of the Iron, being with the blow either broke off or blun|ted, it was in
matter of Execution, as if you had struck against an Anvil with a little Wax-candle. Then did the
Monk with his Staff of the Cross give him such a sturdy thump and whirret betwixt his Neck and
Shoulders, upon the Acromion bone, that he made him lose both sense and motion, and fall down
stone dead at his Horses feet. And seeing the Star which he wore on his Scarf, he said unto
Gargantua, these Men are but Priests, which is but the beginning of a Monk, by St. Ihon, I am a
perfect Monk, I will kill them like flies. Then ran he after them at a swift and full Gallop, till he
overtook the Reer, and felled them down like Tree-leaves, striking athwart and alongst and every
way. Gymnast presently asked Gargantua if they should pursue them. To whom Gargantua
answered, by no means; for, according to right military Discipline, you must never drive your
Enemy unto Despair. For that such a strait doth multiply his Force, and encrease his Courage,
which was before broken and cast down. Neither is there any better help for Men that are out of
heart, toiled and 174 spent, then to hope for no Favour at all. How many Victories have been
taken out of the Hands of the Victors by the vanquish'd, when they would not rest satisfied with
rea|son, but attempt to put all to the Sword, and totally to destroy all their Enemies, without
leaving so much as one to carry home News of the defeat of his Fellows. Open there|fore unto
your Enemies all the Gates and Ways, and make to them a bridge of Silver rather then fail, that
you may be rid of them. Yea, but (said Gymnast) they have the Monk: Have they the Monk? (said
Gargantua) Upon mine honour then it will prove to their cost: But to prevent all dangers, let us
not yet re|treat, but halt here quietly; for I think I do already understand the Policy of our
Enemies, they are truly more directed by Chance and meer Fortune, then by good Advice and
Counsel. In the mean while, whilst these made a stop under the Walnut-trees, the Monk pursued
on the Chase, charging all he over|took, and giving quarter to none, until he met with a Trooper,
who carried behind him one of the poor Pilgrims, and there would have rifled him. The Pilgrim,
in hope of relief at the sight of the Monk, cry|ed out, Ha, my Lord Prior, my good Friend, my
Lord Prior, save me, I beseech you, save me. Which words being heard by those that rode in the
Van, they instantly fac'd a|bout, and seeing there was no body but the 175 Monk that made this
great havock and slaugh|ter among them, they lodged him with blows as thick as they use to do
 146

an Ass with Wood: But of all this he felt nothing, especially when they struck upon his Frock,
his Skin was so hard. Then they committed him to two of the Marshal's Men to keep, and
looking about, saw no body coming against them, whereupon they thought that Gargantua and
his Party were fled. Then was it that they rode as hard as they could towards the Wal|nut-Trees to
meet with them, and left the Monk there all alone, with his two foresaid Men to guard him.
Gargantua heard the noise and neighing of the Horses, and said to his Men, Camerades, I hear
the track and beating of the Enemies Horse-feet, and with|al perceive that some of them come in
a Troop and full Body against us; let us rally and close here, then set forward in order, and by
this means we shall be able to re|ceive their Charge, to their loss and our honour.

176

CHAP. XLIV. How the Monk rid himself of his Keepers, and how Picrochole's For|lorn
Hope was defeated.

THE Monk seeing them break off thus without Order, conjectured that they were to set upon
Gargantua and those that were with him, and was wonderfully grieved that he could not succour
them. Then con|sidered he the countenance of the two Keepers in whose custody he was, who
would have willingly run after the Troops to get some Booty and Plunder, and were always
looking towards the Valley unto which they were going. Farther, he Syllogised, saying, These
Men are but badly skilled in matters of War, for they have not required my Pa|rol; neither have
they taken my Sword from me. Suddenly hereafter he drew his long Sword, wherewith he gave
the Keeper which held him, on the right side such a sound slash, that he cut clean through the
jugu|larie veins, and the sphagitid arteries of the neck with the gargareon, even unto the two
Adenes, and redoubling the blow, he opened the spinal marrow betwixt the second and the third
vertebrae; there fell down that Keeper stark dead to the ground. Then the Monk reining 177 his
Horse to the left, ran upon the other, who seeing his fellow dead, and the Monk to have the
advantage of him, cried with a loud Voice, Ha, my Lord Prior, quarter; I yield, my Lord Prior,
quarter, quarter; my good Friend, my Lord Prior: And the Monk cried likewise, My Lord
Posterior, my Friend, my Lord Posterior, you shall have it upon your Posteriorums. Ha, said the
Keeper, my Lord Prior, my dear Lord Prior, I pray God make you an Abbot. By the Habit (said
the Monk) which I wear, I will here make you a Cardinal. What do you use to pay Ransoms to
Religious Men? You shall have by and by, a red Hat of my giving: And the fellow cryed, Ha, my
Lord Prior, my Lord Prior, my Lord Abbot that shall be my Lord Cardinal, my Lord All. Ha, ha,
hes, no my Lord Prior, my good little Lord the Prior, I yield, render and deliever my self up to
you. And I deliver thee (said the Monk) to all the Devils in Hell; then at one stroak he struck off
his Head; cutting his Scalp upon the Temple-bones, and lifting up the two bones Bregmatis,
together with the sagittal Commissure, as also a great part of the Coronal Bone; by which
terrible blow like|wise he cut the two Meninges, and made a deep wound in the two posterior
Ventricles of the Brain; so that the Cranium abode hang|ing upon his Shoulders, by the Skin of
the Pericranium behind, in form of a Doctor's 178 Bonnet, black without and red within. Thus
fell he down also to the ground stark dead.
 147

And presently the Monk gave his Horse the Spur, and kept the way that the Enemy held, who had
met with Gargantua and his Companions in the broad High-way, and were so diminished of their
number, for the enormous slaughter that Gargantua had made with his great Tree amongst them,
as also Gymnast, Ponocrates, Eudemon and the rest, that they began to retreat disorderly and in
great haste, as Men altogether affrighted and troubled in both Sense and Understanding; and as if
they had seen the very proper Spe|cies and Form of Death before their Eyes. Or rather as when
you see an Ass with a brizze under his Tail, or Fly that stings him, run hither and thither without
keeping any path or way, throwing down his load to the ground, breaking his Bridle and Reins,
and taking no breath nor rest, and no Man can tell what ails him, for they see not any thing touch
him. So fled these People, destitute of Wit, without knowing any cause of flying, only pursued
by a panic terror, which in their minds they had conceived. The Monk per|ceiving that their
whole intent was to betake themselves to their Heels, alighted from his Horse, and got upon a big
large Rock, which was in the way, and with his great Brackmard Sword laid such load upon
those runaways, and with main strength fetching a 179 compass with his Arm without feigning
or sparing, slew and overthrew so many, that his Sword broke in two pieces. Then thought he
within himself that he had slain and killed sufficiently, and that the rest should escape to carry
News. Therefore he took up a battle-ax of those that lay there dead, and got upon the Rock again,
passing his time to see the Enemy thus flying, and to tumble himself amongst the dead Bodies,
only that he suffered none to carry Pike, Sword, Lance nor Gun with him, and those who carried
the Pilgrims bound, he made to alight, and gave their Horses unto the said Pilgrims, keeping
them there with him under the Hedge, and also Touchefaucet, who was then his Prisoner.

CHAP. XLV. How the Monk carried along with him the Pilgrims, and of the good words
that Grangousier gave them.

THIS Skirmish being ended, Gargantua retreated with his Men, excepting the Monk, and about
the dawning of the day they came unto Grangousier, who in his Bed was praying unto God for
their Safety and Victory. And seeing them all safe and sound, 180 he embraced them lovingly,
and asked what was become of the Monk? Gargantua answer|ed him, that without doubt the
Enemies had the Monk? Then have they mischief and ill luck, said Grangousier, which was very
true. Therefore is it a common Proverb to this day· To give a Man the Monk. Then com|manded
he a good Breakfast to be provided for their refreshment. When all was ready, they called
Gargantua, but he was so aggrieved that the Monk was not to be heard of, that he would neither
eat nor drink. In the mean while the Monk comes, and from the Gate of the outer Court cries out
aloud, Fresh Wine, fresh Wine, Gymnast, my Friend. Gymnast went out and saw that it was Frier
Ihon, who brought along with him five Pilgrims, and Touchefaucet Prisoners. Whereupon
Gargantua likewise went forth to meet him, and all of them made him the best welcom that
possibly they could, and brought him before Grangou|sier, who asked him of all his adventures.
The Monk told him all, both how he was taken, how he rid himself of his Keepers, of the
slaughter he had made by the way, and how he had rescued the Pilgrims, and brought along with
him Captain Touchefaucet. Then did they altogether fall to banqueting most merrily. In the mean
time Grangousier asked the Pilgrims what Countrymen they were, whence they came, and
whither they went? Sweertogo in the name of the rest answered, 181 My Sovereign Lord, I am of
 148

Saint Genou in Berry, this Man is of Patvau, this other is of Onzay, this of Argy, and this Man of
Ville|brenin. We came from Saint Sebastian near Nantes, and are now returning, as we best may,
by easie Journeys. Yea, but said Gran|gousier, what went you to do at St. Sebastian? We went
(said Sweertogo) to offer up unto that Sanct our Vows against the Plague. Ah poor Men (said
Grangousier) do you think that the Plague comes from St. Sebastian? Yes truly (answered
Sweertogo) our Preachers tell us so indeed. But is it so? said Grangousier. Do the false Prophets
teach you such abuses? Do they thus blaspheme the Sancts and Holy Men of God, as to make
them like unto the De|vils, who do nothing but hurt unto Man|kind? as Homer writeth, that the
Plague was sent into the Camp of the Greeks by Apollo; and as the Poets feign a great rabble of
Ve|joves and mischievous Gods. So did a cer|tain old Hypocrite Preach at Sinay, that Saint
Antony sent the fire into Mens Legs; that Saint Eutropius made Men hydropic; St. Clida[...],
Fools; and that St. Genou made them goutish. But I punished him so exemplarily, though he
called me Heretic for it, that since that time no such Hypocritical Rogue durst set his Foot within
my Territories. And truly I wonder that your King should suffer them in their Sermons to publish
such scandalous Do|ctrin in his Dominions. For they deserve to 182 be chastised with greater
severity then those who by Magical Art, or any other Device, have brought the Pestilence into a
Country· the Pest killeth but the Bodies, but such abo|minable Impostors empoison our very
Souls. As he spake these words, in came the Monk very resolute; and asked them, whence are
you, you poor Wretches? of St. Genou (said they.) And how (said the Monk) doth the Abbot
Gullicut, that true toaper, and the Monks, what cheer make they? Morbleau, they'll have a fling at
your Wives, whilst you are upon your gadding Pilgrimage. Hin, hen (said Sweertogo) I am not
afraid of mine; for he that shall see her by day, will never break his Neck to come to her in the
night|time. Yea marry (said the Monk) now you have hit it; let her be as ugly as ever was
Proserpina, she will not keep her Arse dry, if there dwell any Monks near her. For a good
Carpenter will make use of any kind of Timber. Let me be pepper'd with the Pox, if you find not
all your Wives with Child at your re|turn: For the very shadow of an Abbey-steeple is prolific.

It is (said Gargantua) like the Water of Nilus in Egypt, if you believe Strabo and Pliny, lib. 7.
cap 3. What Vertue will there be then in their Bullets of Concupiscence, their Habits and their
Bodies?

Then (said Grangousier) go your ways, poor Men in the Name of God the Creator, 183 to whom
I pray to guide you perpetually· and henceforward be not so ready to under|take these idle and
unprofitable Journeys. Look to your Families, labour every Man in his vocation, instruct your
Children, and live as the good Apostle St. Paul directeth you. In doing whereof, God, his Angels
and Sancts will guard and protect you, and no Evil or Plague at any time shall befal you.

Then Gargantua led them into the Hall to take their Refection; but the Pilgrims did nothing but
sigh, and said to Gargantua; O how happy is that Land which hath such a Man for their Lord!
We have been more edified and instructed by the talk which he hath had with us, then by all the
Sermons that ever were preached in our Town. This is (said Gargantua) that which Plato saith,
lib. 5. de Republ. That those Commonwealths are happy, whose Rulers Philosophize, and whose
Philoso|phers Rule. Then caused he their Wallets to to be filled with Victuals, and their Bottles
with Wine, and gave unto each of them a Horse to ease them upon the way, together with some
Pence to live upon.
 149

184

CHAP. XLVI. How Grangousier did very kindly enter|tain Touchefaucet his Prisoner.

TOuchefaucet was presented unto Gran|gousier, and by him examined upon the enterprise and
attempt of Picrochole, what it was he could pretend to, by this tumultuary invasion; whereunto
he answered, that his end and purpose was to conquer all the Country, if he could, for the injury
done to his Cake bakers. It is too great an underta|king said Grangousier and (as the Proverb is.)
He that gripes too much holds fast but little; the time is not now so to conquer Kingdoms, to the
loss of our nearest Christian brother, this imitation of the ancient Herculeses, Alex|anders,
Hannibals, Scipios, Caesars and other such Heroes, is quite contrary to the Profession of the
Gospel of Christ, by the which we are commanded to preserve, keep, rule and govern every Man
his own Country and Lands, and not in a hostile manner to In|vade others, and that which
heretofore the Saracens and Barbarians called Prowess, we do now call Robbery and
Wickedness. It would have been more commendable in him to have contained himself within the
bounds of his own territories, royally geverning them 185 then to insult and domineer in mine,
pillaging and plundering every where, for by ruling his own with discretion, he might have
increast his greatness, but by robbing me he cannot escape des|truction. Go your ways in the
name of God, do what is righteous; shew your King what is amiss, and never counsel him with
regard unto your own particular profit for with the public will also be swallowed up the private.
As for your ransom, I do freely remit it to you and will that your Armes and Horse be restored to
you; so should good neighbours do and ancient friends, seeing this our difference is not properly
War, as Plato, lib. 5. de repub. would not have it called War but Sedition not when the Greeks
took up Arms against one another, and therefore when such combustions should arise, his advice
was to behave themselves with all discretion and modesty. Although you call it War, it is but
superficial; it entereth not into the in|most cabinet of our hearts; for neither of us hath been
wronged in his honour, nor is there any question betwixt us in the main; but only how to redress,
by the by, some pretty faults committed by our Men; I mean, both yours and ours, which
although you knew, you ought to let pass; for these quar|relsom persons deserve rather to be
contem|ned then mention'd, especially seing I offered them satisfaction according to the wrong.

God shall be the just Judge of our vari|ances, 186 whom I beseech by death, rather to take me out
of this Life, and to permit my goods to perish and be destroyed before mine Eyes, then that by
me or mine he should in any sort be wronged. These words uttered, he called the Monk, and
before them all spoke thus unto him: Friar Ihon, my good friend, is it you that took Prisoner the
Captain Touch|faucet here present? Sir, said the Monk, seing himself is here and that he is of the
Years of discretion, I had rather you should know it by his confession then by any words of
mine. Then said Touchfaucet, my Sovereign Lord it is he indeed that took me, and I do therefore
most freely yield my self his Prisoner. Have you put him to any ransom, said Grangousier to the
Monk? No (said the Monk,) of that I take no care: How much would you have, for having taken
him? nothing, nothing said the Monk? I am not swayed by that, nor do I regard it. Then
Grangousier com|manded, that in presence of Touchfaucet, should be delivered to the Monk for
taking him, the some of threescore and two thou|sand saluts, which was done, whilst they made a
colation to the said Touchfaucet; of whom Grangousier asked, if he would stay with him, or if he
 150

loved rather to return to his King. Touchfaucet answered, that he was content to take whatever
course he would advise him to: Then said Grangousier) return unto your King, and, God be with
you.

187 Then gave him an excellent Sword a Vienna blade, with a golden scabbard wrought with
Vine-branch· like flourishes, of fine Goldsmiths work, and a Coller of gold, weighing seven
hundred and two thousand marks garnished, with precious stones of the finest sort, esteemed at a
hundred and sixty thousand Ducats, and ten thousand Crowns more, as an honourable present.

After this talk, Touchfaucet got to his Horse, and Gargantua for his safety allowed him the guard
of thirty Men at Arms, and six score Archers to attend him, under the conduct of Gymnast, to
bring him even unto the gate of the rock Clermond, if there were need. Assoon as he was gone,
the Monk restored unto Grangousier the threescore and two thousand Saluts, which he had
receiv'd, saying, Sir it is not as yet the time for you to give such gifts, stay till this War be at an
end, for none can tell what accidents may occur, and War begun without good provision of Mony
before-hand is but a as blast that will quickly pass away: Coin is the sinews of War. Well then
(said Grangousier) at the end I will con|tent you by some honest recompence; as also all those
who shall do me good service.

188

CHAP. XLVII. How Grangousier sent for his Legions and how Touchfaucet slew Rashcalf,
and was afterwards executed by the command of Pricochole.

ABout this same time those of Bess of the old Market, of St. Iames bourg, of the Draggage, of
Parille, of the Rivers, of the Rocks St. Pol, of the Vaubreton, of Pautille, of the Brahemont, of
Clainbridge, of Cravant, of Grammount, of the Town at the Badgerholes, of Hu[...]mes, of Serge,
of Husse, of St. Livant, of Panzoust, of the Coldraux, of Vernon, of Coulaines, of Chose, of
Varenes, of Bourgueil, of the Bouchard Claud, of the Croulay, of Narsie, of Cand, of
Monsoreau and other bor|dering places, sent Ambassadors unto Gran|gousier, to tell him that
they were advised of the great wrongs which Picrochole had done him; and in regard of their
Ancient Confe|deracy, offered him what assistance they could afford, both in Men, Money,
Victuals and Ammunition and other necessaries for War. The mony which by the joynt
agreement of them all was sent unto him, amounted to sixscore and fourteen Millions, two
Crowns and a half of pure Gold.

The forces wherewith they did assist him, 189 did consist in fifteen thousand Cuirasiers, two and
thirty thousand light Horsemen, fourscore and nine thousand Dragoons and a hundred and fourty
thousand Voluntier Adventurers. These had with them a eleven thousand and two hundred
Cannons, double Cannons, Ba|silisks, and of Pioneers they had seven and fourty thousand all
Victualled and pay'd for six Months and four Days of advance; which offer Gargantua did not
altogether re|fuse, nor wholly accept of; but giving them hearty thanks, said, that he would
compound and order the War by such a device, that there should not be found great need to put
so many honest Men to trouble, in the Mana|ging of it. And therefore was content, at that time to
 151

give order only for bringing a|long the Legions, which he maintained at his ordinary Garison-
Towns of the Deerni|ere, Chavignie, of Granot, and of Quinquenais, amounting to the number of
two thousand Cuirasiers, threescore and six thousand Foot-Souldires, six and twenty thousand
Dragoons, attended by two hundred pieces of great Ord|nance, two and twenty thousand
Pioneers, and six thousand light Horsemen, all drawn up in Troops, so well befitted and
accom|modated with their commissaries, sutlers, ferri|ers, harness-makers, and other such like
neces|sary Members in a military Camp; so fully instructed in the Art of Warfare, so perfect|ly
knowing and following their colours, so 190 ready to hear and obey their Captains, so nimble to
run, so strong at their charging so prudent in their adventures, and every Day so well Disciplined,
that they seemed ra|ther to be a consort of Organ pipes, or mu|tual concord of the Wheels of a
Clock, then an Infantry and Cavalry, or Army of Souldiers.

Touchfaucet immediately after his return, presen[...]ed himself before Picrochole, and related
unto him at large all that he had done and seen, and at last endeavoured to per|swade him with
strong and forcible argu|ments to capitulate and make an agreement with Grangousier, whom he
found to be the honestest Man in the World, saying further, that it was neither right nor reason
thus to trouble his Neighbours, of whom they never received any thing but good; and in regard of
the main Point, that they should never be able to go through stitch with that War, but to their
great Damage and Mischief; for the Forces of Picrochole were not so considerable, but that
Grangousier could easily overthrow them.

He had not well done speaking, when Rashcalf said out aloud; Unhappy is that Prince, which is
by such Men served, who are so easily corrupted as I know Touchfaucet is; for I see his courage
so Changed, that he had willingly joyned with our enemies to fight against us and betray us, if
they would have receiv'd him, but as Vertue is 191 of all, both Friends and Foes, praised and
esteemed; so is Wickedness soon known and suspected; and although it happen the Ene|mies do
make use thereof for their profit yet have they always the wicked, and the Traitors in
abomination.

Touchfaucet being at these words very im|patient drew out his sword, and therewith ran Rashcalf
through the body, a little un|der the Nipple of his left side, whereof he died presently, and pulling
back his Sword out of his Body, said Boldly, So let him perish that shall a faithful servant blame,
Picrochole incontinently grew furious, and seeing Touch|faucets new Sword and his scabbard so
richly Diapred with flourishes of most excellent Workmanship, said, Did they give thee this
Weapon, so Felloniously therewith to kill before my Face, my so good friend Rash|calf? then
immediately command'd he his Guard to hew him in peices, which was instantly done, and that
so cruelly, that the Chamber was all died with Blood: Afterwards he appointed the Corps of
Rashcalf to be honourably, bury'd and that of Touchfaucet to be cast over the Wall into the Ditch.

The news of these Excessive Violences were quickly spread through all the Army; whereupon
many began to murmur against Picrochole, Insofar, that Pinchpennie said to him, My sovereign
Lord, I know not what the Issue of this enterprise will be; I see your 192 Men much dejected and
not well resolved in their Minds, by considering that we are here very ill provided of Victuals,
and that our number is already much deminished by three or four Sallies: Furthermore, great
Supplies and Recruits come daily into your Enemies; but we so moulder away, that if we be once
Besieg'd, I do not see how we can escape a total destruction. Tush, pish (said Picrochole) you are
 152

like the Melun Eeles, you cry before they come to you: Let them come, let them come, if they
dare,

CHAP. XLVIII. How Gargantua set upon Picrochole, within the Rock Clermond, and
ut|terly defeated the Army of the said Picrochole.

GArgantua had the Charge of the whole Army, and his Father Grangousier stayed in his Castle;
who encouraging them with good Words, promised great rewards unto those that should do any
notable service. Assoon as they had gained the Ford of Vede, Boats and Bridges speedily made,
they past over in a trice; then considering the scituati|on of the Town, which was on a high and
advantageous place, Gargantua thought fit to 193 call his Counsel, and pass that night in
deli|beration upon what was to be done: But Gymnast said unto him, My sovereign Lord, such is
the Nature and Complexion of the French, that they are worth nothing, but at the first push. Then
are they more fierce then De|vils; but if they be wearied with delays, they prove more faint then
Women; my Opini|on is therefore, that now presently after your Men have taken breath, and
some small re|fection, you give Order for a resolute Assault. The advice was found very good,
and for effectuating thereof, he brought forth his Army into the plain Field, and placed the
reserves on the Skirt or Rising of a little Hill. The Monk took along with him six Companies of
Foot and two hundred Horse|men well armed and with great dilligence crossed the Marish, and
valiantly got up to the top of the green Hillock, even to the High-way which leads to Loudin.
Whilst the assault was thus begun, Picrochole's Men could not tell well which was best to Issue
out, and receive the Assailants, or keep within the Town and not to stir: Himself in the mean time
without deliberation, sallied forth in a rage with the Cavalry of his Guard, who were forthwith
received and royally entertain|ed with great Cannon-shot, that fell upon them like hail from the
high grounds, on which the Artillery was planted; whereupon the Gargantuists betook
themselves unto the 194 Valleys, to give the Ordnance leave to play and range with the larger
scope.

Those of the Town defended themselves as well as they could, but their shot past o|ver, without
doing any hurt at all. Some of Picrocholes Men that had escaped our Ar|tillery, set most fiercely
upon our Souldiers, but prevailed little; for they were all let in betwixt the Files, and there
knock'd down to the Ground. Which their Fellow Souldiers seeing, they would have retreated,
but the Monk having seized upon the Pass, by the which they were to return, they run away and
fled in all the Disorder and Confusion that could be imagined.

Some would have pursued after them, and followed the Chase, but the Monk withheld-them,
apprehending that in their pursuit the Pursuers might lose their ranks, and so give occasion to the
Besieged to sally out of the Town upon them. Then staying there some space, and none coming
against him, he sent the Duke Phrontist, to advise Gargantua to ad|vance towards the Hill upon
the left hand, to hinder Picrochole's retreat at that Gate; which Gargantua did with all
Expedition, and sent thither four Brigades under the conduct of Sebast, which had no sooner
reach'd the top of the Hill, but they met Picrochole in the Teeth, and those that were with him
scat|tered.
 153

Then charged they upon them stoutly, 195 yet were they much indamaged by those that were
upon the Walls, who galled them with all manner of Shot, both from the great Ordnance, small
Guns and Bows. Which Gargantua perceiving, he went with a strong Party to their relief, and
with his Artillery began to thunder so terribly upon that Can|ton of the Wall, and so long, that all
the strength within the Town, to maintain and fill up the Breach, was drawn thither. The Monk
seeing that quarter which he kept be|sieged, void of Men and competent Guards, and in a manner
altogether naked and aban|doned, did most magnanimously on a sud|den lead up his Men
towards the Fort, and never left it till he had got up upon it, know|ing that such as come to the
reserve in a conflict, bring with them always more fear and ter|ror, then those that deal about
them with their hands in the fight.

Nevertheless he gave no Alarm till all his Souldiers had got within the Wall, except the two
hundred Horsemen, whom he left without to secure his Entry. Then did he give a most horrible
shout, so did all these who were with him, and immediately there|after without resistance, putting
to the edge of the Sword the guard that was at that Gate, they opened it to the Horsemen, with
whom most furiously they altogether ran towards the East-gate, where all the hurly burly was,
and coming close upon them in the Reer, overthrew all their Forces.

196 The besiged seeing that the Gargantuists had won the Town upon them, and that they were
like to be secure in no corner of it, submitted themselves unto the mercy of the Monk, and asked
for quarter, which the Monk very nobly granted to them, yet made them lay down their Arms.
Then shutting them up within Churches, gave order to seize upon all the Staves of the Crosses,
and placed Men at the Doors to keep them from coming forth. Then opening the East-gate, he
issued out to succour and assist Gargantua. But Pi|crochole thinking it had been some Relief
co|ming to him from the Town, adventured more forwardly than before, and was upon the giving
of a most desperate Home charge, when Gargantua cried out, Ha, Friar Ihon, my Friend Friar
Ihon, you are come in a good hour; which unexpected accident so affrighted Picrochole and his
Men, that gi|ving all for lost, they betook themselves to their Heels, and fled on all Hands.
Gargantua chased them till they came near to Vaugaudry, killing and slaying all the way, and
then sounded the retreat.

197

CHAP. XLIX. How Picrochole in his flight fell into great Misfortunes, and what Gar|gantua
did after the Battle.

PIcrochole, thus in despair, fled towards the Bouchard Island, and in the way to Rivere his Horse
stumbled and fell down, whereat he was on a sudden so incensed, that he with his Sword,
without more ado, killed him in his Choler. Then not finding any other whereon to remount, he
was about to have taken an Ass at the Mill that was there|by; but the Millers Men did so baste his
Bones, and so soundly bethwack'd him, that they made him both black and blew with strokes;
then striping him of all his Clothes, gave him a scurvy old Canvas Jacket where|with to cover his
Nakedness. Thus went a|long this poor choleric Wretch, who passing the Water at Porthuaux,
and relating his mis|adventurous Disasters, was foretold by an old Lourpidon Hag, that his
 154

Kingdom should be restored to him at the coming of the Cock|licranes. What is become of him
since we cannot certainly tell; yet was I told that he is now a Porter at Lyons, as testy and
cho|relic as ever, and always with great Lamen|tation enquiring at all strangers of the com|ing
198 of the Cocklicranes, expecting assuredly (according to the old Woman's Prophesie) that at
their coming he shall be re-establish'd in his Kingdom. The first thing Gargantua did after his
return into the Town was to call the Muster-roll of his Men, which when he had done, he found
that there were very few either kill'd or wounded, only some few Foot of Captain Tolmeres
Company, and Po|nocrates, who was shot with a Musket Ball, through the Doublet. Then he
caused them all at, and in their several, Posts and Divisi|ons, to take a little Refreshment, which
was very plenteously provided for them in the best Drink and Victuals that could be had for
Mo|ney; And gave order to the Treasurers and Commissaries of the Army, to pay for, and defray
that Repast, and that there should be no Outrage at all, nor Abuse committed in the Town, seeing
it was his own. And fur|thermore commanded, that immediately after the Souldiers had done
with eating and drink|ing, they should be drawn up on the Piazza before the Castle, there to
receive six months pay: All which was done. After this by his direction, were brought before
him, in the said place, all those that remained of Pi|crochole's Party; unto whom in the presence
of the Princes, Nobles and Officers of his Court and Army, he spoke as followeth.

199

CHAP. L. Gargantua's Speech to the Van|quished.

OVR Fore fathers and Ancestors, of all times, have been of this Nature and Dis|position, that
upon the winning of a Battel, they have chosen rather for a sign and memorial of their Triumphs
and Victories, to erect Trophies and Mo|numents in the Hearts of the Vanquish'd by Cle|mency,
then by Architecture in the Lands which they had conquer'd. For they did hold in greater
estimation, the lively remembrance of Men purchased by liberality, than the dumb Inscription of
Arches, Pillars and Pyramids, subject to the Injury of Storms and Tempests, and to the Envy of
every one. You may very well remember of the Courtesie, which by them was used towards the
Bretons, in the Battle of St. Aubin of Comier, and at the demolishing of Partenay. You have
heard, and hearing admire their gentle Com|portment towards those at the Barriers of Spani|ola,
when they had plundered, wasted and ran|sack'd the maritime Borders of Olone and Tal|mondois.
All this Hemisphere of the World was filled with the Praises and Congratulations, which your
selves and your Fathers made, when Alpharbal King of Canarre, not satisfied with his own
Fortunes, did most furiously invade the 200 Land of Onyx, and with cruel· Piracies molest all the
Armoric Islands, and confine Regions of Britany. Yet was he in a set naval Fight justly taken and
vanquished by my Father, whom God preserve and protect. But what? Whereas other Kings and
Emperors, yea those who entitle themselves Catholics, would have dealt roughly with him, kept
him a close Prisoner, and put him to an extream high ransom: He intreated him very courteously,
lodged him kindly with him|self in his own Palace, and out of his incredible mildness and gentle
disposition sent him back with a safe Conduct, loaden with Gifts, loaden with Favours, loaden
with all Offices of Friendship: What fell out upon it? Being returned into his Country, he called a
Parliament, where all the Princes and States of his Kingdom being assem|bled, he shewed them
the Humanity which he had found in us, and therefore wished them to take such course by way
 155

of Compensation therein, as that the whole World might be edified by the Example, as well of
their honest Graciousness to us, as of our gracious Honesty towards them. The result hereof was,
that it was voted and de|creed by an unanimous Consent, that they should offer up entirely their
Lands, Dominions and Kingdoms, to be disposed of by us according to our Pleasure.

Alpharbal in his own Person, presently re|turned with Nine Thousand and thirty eight great Ships
of burden, bringing with him the Treasures, not only of his House and Royal Lineage, but al|most
201 of all the Country beside. For he imbar|king himself, to set Sail with a West-North-East
Wind, every one in heaps did cast into the Ship Gold, Silver, Rings, Iewels, Spices, Drugs and
Aromatical Perfumes, Parrets, Pelicans, Monkies, Civet-cats, black-spotted Weesils, Por|cupines,
&c. He was accounted no good Mo|ther's Son, that did not cast in all the rare and precious things
he had.

Being safely arrived, he came to my said Fa|ther, and would have kist his Feet: That Action was
found too submissively low, and therefore was not permitted, but in exchange, he was most
cordially embraced: He offered his Presents, they were not received, because they were too
excessive: He yielded himself voluntarily a Servant and Vassal, and was content his whole
Posterity should be liable to the same Bondage; this was not ac|cepted of, because it seemed not
equitable. He surrendered by Vertue of the Decree of his great Parliamentary Council, his whole
Countries and Kingdoms to him, offering the Deed and Con|veyance, signed, sealed and ratified
by all those that were concerned in it. This was altogether refused, and the Parchments cast into
the Fire: In the end, this free-good Will and simple Meaning of the Canarriens, wrought such
tenderness in my Father's Heart, that he could not abstain from shedding Tears, and wept most
profusely; then by choice words very congruously adapted, strove in what he could to diminish
the esti|mation of the good offices, which he had done 202 them, saying, That any Courtesie he
had con|ferred upon them, was not worth a rush, and what favour so ever he had shew'd them, he
was bound to do it. But so much the more did Alpharbal augment the repeat thereof: What was
the Issue? whereas for his ransom in the greatest extremity of rigour and most tyrannical dealing,
could not have been exacted above twenty times a hun|dred thousand Crowns, and his eldest
Sons detain'd as hostages, till that Sum had been pay'd, they made themselves perpetual
tributaries, and obliged to give us every Year two millions of Gold at four and twenty Carats
fine: The first Year we received the whole sum of two Millions; the second Year of their own
accord, they pay'd freely to us three and twenty hundred thousand Crowns; the third Year six and
twenty hundred thousand; the fourth Year three millions, and do so increase it always out of their
own good will, that we shall be constrained to forbid them to bring us any more. This is the
Nature of gra|titude and true thankfulness: For time which gnaws and diminisheth all things else,
augments and increaseth benefits; because a noble action of liberality done to a Man of reason
doth grow con|tinually by his generous thinking of it, and remem|bring it.

But unwilling therefore any way to degenerate from the hereditary mildness and clemency of my
Parents; I do now forgive you, set you at liberty and every way make you as frank and free as
ever you were before. Moreover, at your going 203 out of the Gate, you shall have every one of
you three Months Pay to bring you home into your Houses and Families and shall have a safe
con|voy of six hundred Cuirasiers and eight thousand Foot under the conduct of Alexander,
Esquire of my body, that the Clubmen of the Country may not do you any Injury. God be with
you; I am sorry from my Heart that Picrochole is not here; for I would have given him to
 156

understand, that this War was undertaken against my Will, and without any hope to increase
either goods or renown; but seeing he is lost and that no Man can tell where, nor how he went
away, It is my will that this Kingdom remain entire to his Son, who because he is too young (he
not being yet full five Years old) shall be brought up and instructed by the ancient Princes and
learned Men of the Kingdom. And because a Realm, thus desolate, may easily come to Ruin; if
the covetousness and avarice of those, who by their places are obliged to administer justice in it;
but not curbed and re|strained: I ordain and will have it so, that Po|nocrates be overseer and
superintendent above all his governours, with whatever power and authority is requisite thereto
and that he be continually with the Child, until he find him able and capable to rule and govern
by himself.

Now I must tell you, that y[...]u are to understand how a too feeble and diss[...]lute Facility in
pardo|ning Evil-doers giveth them occasion to commit wickedness afterward more readily; upon
this per|nicious confidence of receiving favour, I consider 204 that Moses, the meekest Man that
was in his time upon the Earth, did severely punish the mu|tinous and seditious People of Israel.
I consider likewise, that Julius Caesar, who was so gracious an Emperor, that Cicero said of
him, That his Fortune had nothing more excellent than that he could, and his Vertue nothing
better than that he would always save and pardon every Man. He notwithstanding all this, did in
certain places, most rigorously punish the Authors of Rebellion. After the Example of these good
Men, it is my Will and Pleasure, that you de|liver over unto me before you depart hence, first,
that fine Fellow Marquet, who was the prime, origin and ground-work of this War, by his vain
Presumption and Overweening. Secondly, his fellow Cakebakers, who were neglective in
checking and reprehending his idle hair-brain'd Humour in the instant time. And lastly, all the
Counsellors, Captains, Officers and Domestics of Picrochole, who had been Incendiaries or
Fomen|ters of the War, by provoking, praising or counsel|ling him to come out of his Limits thus
to trouble us.

CHAP. LI. How the victorious Gargantuists were recompensed after the Battle.

WHen Gargantua had finished his Speech, the seditious Men whom he requir'd, 205 were
delivered up unto him, except Swash|buckler, Durtaille and Smaltrash, who ran a|way six hours
before the Battle; one of them as far as to Lanielneck at one course, ano|ther to the Valley of
Vire, and the third even unto Logroine, without looking back, or taking breath by the way. And
two of the Cake-bakers, who were slain in the Fight. Gargantua did them no other hurt, but that
he appointed them to pull at the Presses of his Printing-House, which he had newly set up. Then
those who died there he caused to be honourably buried in Black-soile-Vailey, and Burn-hag-
Field, and gave order that the wounded should be drest and had care of in his great Hospital or
Nosocome. After this, considering the great prejudice done to the Town and its Inhabitants, he re-
imbursed their Charges, and repair'd all the losses, that, by their Confession upon Oath, could
appear they had sustained. And for their better De|fence and Security in times coming, against all
sudden Uproars and Invasions, command|ed a strong Cittadel to be built there with a competent
Garrison to maintain it. At his departure he did very graciously thank all the Souldiers of the
Brigades, that had been at this overthrow, and sent them back to their Winter-quarters in their
 157

several Stations and Garisons. The Decumane Legion only excep|ted, whom in the Field on that
day he saw do some great Exploit, and their Captains 206 also, whom he brought along with
himself unto Grangousier.

At the sight and coming of them, the good Man was so joyful, that it is not possi|ble fully to
describe it, He made them a Feast the most magnificent, plentiful and delicious that ever was
seen since the time of the King Assuerus. At the taking up of the Table, he distributed amongst
them his whole Cup|board of Plate, which weighed Eight hundred thousand and fourteen Besants
of Gold, in great antic Vessels, huge Pots, large Basins, big Tasses, Cups, Goblets, Candlesticks,
comfit Boxes and other such Plate, all of pure massy Gold, besides the precious Stones,
ena|meling and workmanship, which by all Mens estimation was more worth than the matter of
the Gold. Then unto every one of them out of his Coffers caused he to be given the summ of
Twelve hundred thousand Crowns ready Money. And further he gave to each of them for ever
and in perpetuity (unless he should happen to decease without Heirs) such Castles and
neighbouring Lands of his as were most commodious for them. To Ponocrates he gave the Rock
Clermond; to Gymnast, the Coudray; to Eudemon, Monpen|sier; Rinan, to Tolmere; to Ithibolle,
Montsau|rean; to Acamas, Cande; Varenes to Chiro|vacte; Gravot to Sebast; Quinquenais to
Ale|xander; Legre to Sophrone; and so of his other Places.

207

CHAP. LII. How Gargantua caused to be built for the Monk the Abbey of Theleme.

THere was left only the Monk [...] [...]o|vide for, whom Gargantua [...] made Abbot of Seville, but
he refused [...] would have given him the Abbey of Bourgueil, or of Sanct Florent which was
better, or both, if it pleased him. But the Monk gave him a very peremptory answer, that he
would never take upon him the Charge nor Govern|ment of Monks. For how shall I be able (said
he) to rule over others, that have not full power and command of my self. If you think I have
done you, or may hereafter do you, any ac|ceptable Service, give me leave to found an Abbey
after my own Mind and Fancy. The motion pleased Gargantua very well, who thereupon offered
him all the Country of The|leme by the River of Loire, till within two Leagues of the great Forest
of Port huaut. The Monk then requested Gargantua to insti|tute his religious Order contrary to
all others. First then (said Gargantua) you must not build a Wall about your Convent, for all
other Abbies are strongly walled and mured about. See (said the Monk) and without cause, where
there is Mur before, and Mur behind, 208 there is store of Murmur, Envy and mutual Conspiracy.

Moreover, seeing there are certain Con|vents in the World, whereof the Custom is, if any Woman
come (I mean chaste and honest Women) they immediately sweep the ground which they have
trod upon. There|fore was it ordained, that if any Man or Woman entered into religious Orders,
should by chance come within this new Abbey, all the Rooms should be throughly washed and
cleansed through which they had passed. And because in all other Monasteries and Nunneries all
is compassed, limited and regulated by Hours, it was decreed that in this new Structure there
should be neither Clock nor Dial, but that according to the opportunities and incident occasions,
all their Hours should be disposed of. For (said Gargantua) the greatest loss of time that I know,
 158

is, to count the Hours. What good comes of it? nor can there be any greater dotage in the World,
then for one to guide and direct his Courses by the sound of a Bell, and not by his own Judgment
and Dis|cretion.

Item, Because at that time they put no Wo|men into Nunneries, but such as were either purblind,
blinkards, lame, crooked, ill-fa|vour'd, mis-shapen, fools, senceless, spoiled or corrupt; nor
encloister'd any Men, but those that were either sickly, subject to de|fluxions, ill-bred louts,
simple sots, or peevish 209 trouble-houses. But to the purpose (said the Monk) A Woman that is
neither fair nor good, to what use serves she? To make a Nun of, said Gargantua. Yea (said the
Monk) and to make shirts and smocks. Therefore was it ordained that into this Religious Order
should be admitted no Women that were not fair, well featur'd, and of a sweet disposition: Nor
Men that were not comely, personable and well condition'd.

Item, Because in the Convents of Women, Men come not but underhand, privily and by stealth; it
was therefore enacted, that in this House there shall be no Women in case there be not Men, nor
Men in case there be not Women.

Item, Because both Men and Women that are received into religious Orders after the ex|piring of
their noviciat or probation-year, were constrained and forced perpetually to stay there all the
days of their life; it was therefore ordered, that all whatever, Men or Women, admitted within
this Abbey, shoul have full leave to depart with peace and contentment, whensoever it should
seem good to them so to do.

Item, For that the religious men and women did ordinarily make three Vows, to wit, those of
Chastity, Poverty and Obedience; it was there|fore constituted and appointed, that in this Convent
they might be honourably Married, that they might be Rich, and live at Liberty. 210 In regard of
the legitimate time of the persons to be initiated, and years under and above, which they were not
capable of reception, the Women were to be admitted from ten till fifteen, and the Men from
twelve to eighteen.

CHAP. LIII. How the Abbey of the Thelemites was Built and Endowed.

FOR the Fabric and Furniture of the Abbey, Gargantua caused to be deliver'd out in ready
Money Seven and twenty hun|dred thousand, eight hundred and one and thirty of those golden
Rams of Berrie, which have a Sheep stamped on the one side, and a flower'd Cross on the other.
And for every year, until the whole work were compleated, he allotted Threescore and nine
thousand Crowns of the Sun, and as many of the Seven Stars, to be charged all upon the Receit of
the Custom. For the Foundation and Main|tenance thereof for ever, he settled a perpe|tual Fee-
farm-rent of three and twenty hun|dred, threescore and nine thousand, five hun|dred and fourteen
Rose-Nobles, exempted from all homage, fealty, service or burden what|soever· and payable
every year at the Gate of the Abbey; and of this by Letters Pa[...]tents pas|sed a very good Grant.
The Architecture 211 was in a figure Hexagonal, and in such a Fa|shion, that in every one of the
six Corners there was built a great round Tower of Three|score foot in diameter; and were all of a
 159

like form and bigness. Upon the Northside ran along the River of Loire, on the bank where|of
was scituated the Tower called Arctick. Going towards the East, there was another called Calaer;
the next following Anatole· the next Mesembrine; the next Hesperia, and the last Criere. Every
Tower was distant from other the space of Three hundred and twelve paces. The whole Aedifice
was every where six stories high, reckoning the Cellars under Ground for one. The second was
arch'd after the fashion of a basket-handle. The rest were seeled with pure Wainscot, flourish'd
with Flanders fret-work, in the form of the foot of a Lamp; and cover'd above with fine slates,
with an indorsement of Lead, carrying the antic figures of little Puppets, and Ani|mals of all
sorts, notably well suited to one another, and guilt, together with the gutters, which jetting
without the Walls, from be|twixt the cross Bars in a diagonal figure, painted with Gold and
Azure, reach'd to the very ground, where they ended into great Conduit-pipes, which carried all
away unto the River from under the House.

This same building was a hundred times more sumptuous and magnificent than ever was
Bonnivet, Chambourg or Chantillie. For 212 there was in it Nine thousand three hundred and two
and thirty Chambers; every one whereof had a withdrawing Room, a hand|som Closet, a
Wardrobe, an Oratory and neat passage, leading into a great and spacious Hall. Between every
Tower, in the midst of the said body of Building, there was a pair of winding Stairs, whereof the
Steps were part of Porphyry, part of Numidian stone, and part of Serpentine marble; each of
those steps being two and twenty foot in length, and three fingers thick, and the just number of
twelve betwixt every rest· or landing place. In every resting place were two fair antic Arches
where the light came in; and by those they went into a Cabinet, made even with, and of the
breadth of, the said winding, and the re-ascending above the roofs of the House, ending conically
in a Pavillion. By that vize or winding, they entred on every side into a great Hall, and from the
Halls into the Chambers. From the Arctic Tower unto the Criere, were the fair great Libraries in
Greek, Latin, Hebrew, French, Italian and Spanish, respectively distributed in their seve|ral
Cantons, according to the diversity of these Languages. In the midst there was a wonderful
winding-stair, the entry whereof was without the House, in a Vault or Arch six fathom broad. It
was made in such sym|metry and largeness, that six Men at Arms with their Lances in their
Rests, might toge|ther 213 in a breast ride all up to the very top of all the Palace. From the Tower
Anatole to the Mesembrine were fair spacious Galleries, all coloured over and painted with the
ancient Prowesses, Histories and Descriptions of the World. In the midst thereof there was
like|wise such another Ascent and Gate, as we said there was on the river-side. Upon that Gate
was written in great antic Letters, that which followeth.

CHAP. LIV. The Inscription set upon the great Gate of Theleme.

HEre enter not religious Boobies, Sots,

Impostors, sniveling Hypocrites, Bigots.
Dark-brain-distorted Owls, worse then the Huns
Or Ostrogots, forerunners of Baboons.
 160

Curs'd Snakes, dissembled Varlets, seeming Sancts,

Slipshop Caffards, Beggars pretending wants;
Fomenters of Divisions and Debates,
Elsewhere, not here, make sale of your Deceits.

Your filthy Trumperies

Stuff'd with pernicious Lyes
(Not worth a bubble)
Would only trouble,
Our earthly Paradise.
Your filthy Trumperies.

214
Here enter not Attornies, Barretters,
Nor bridle champing-law Practitioners:
Clerks, Commissaries, Scribes nor Pharises,
Wilful disturbers of the Peoples ease,
Iudges, Destroyers, with an unjust breath,
That, like Dogs, worry honest Men to death.
We want not your Demurrers, nor your Pleas;
So, at the Gibet go and seek your Fees.
We are not, for Attendance or Delays;
But would with Ease and Quiet pass our Days.

Law-suits, debates and wrangling

Hence are exil'd, and jangling.
Here we are very
Frolick and merry,
And free from all intangling,
Law suits, debate and wrangling.

Here enter not base pinching Vsurers,

Pelf-lickers, everlasting Gatherers;
Gold-graspers, Coin-gripers, Gulpers of Mists,
With Harpy-griping Claws, who, tho your Chests
Vast summs of Money should to you afford,
Would nevertheless be adding to the hoard:
And yet not be content; you cluntchfist dastards,
Insatiable Fiends, and Pluto's bastards;
 161

Greedy devourers, chichy sneakbil Rogues;

Hell-mastiffs gnaw your Bones, you rav'nous Dogs.

You beastly looking Fellows,

Reason doth plainly tell us,
That we should not
To you allot
215 Room here, but at the Gallows;
You beastly looking Fellows.

Here enter not, unsociable Weight,

Humoursom Churl, by Day, nor yet by Night.
No grumbling Awf, none of the sharping Trade,
No huffcap Squire, or Brother o' the Blade.
A Tartar bred, or in Alsatia Wars,
The Ruffian comes not hither with his Bears.
Elsewhere for shelter scour, ye Bully-rocks,
And Rogues, that rot with Infamy and Pox.

Grace, honour, praise, delight,

Here sojourn day and night.
Sound Bodies lin'd
With a good mind,
Do here pursue with might
Grace, honour, praise, Delight.

Here enter you, and welcom from our Hearts,

All noble Sparks, endow'd with gallant Parts.
This is the glorious place which nobly shall
Afford sufficient to content you all;
Were you a thousand, here you shall not want
For any thing; for what you ask, we grant.
The brave, the witty, here we entertain,
And, in a word, all worthy Gentlemen.

Men of heroic Breasts

 162

Shall taste here of the Feasts,

Both privily
And civily
All you are welcom guests,
Men of heroic Breasts.

216
Here enter you, pure, honest, faithful, true,
Expounders of the Scriptures old and new;
Wh[...]se Glosses do not the plain truth disguise,
And with false light distract or blind our Eyes.
Here shall we find a safe and warm retreat,
When Error beats about, and spreads her Net.
Strange Doctrins here must neither reap nor sow,
But Faith and Charity together grow.
In short, confounded be their first devise,
Who are the Holy Scriptures Enemies.

Here in the Holy Word

Trust all, with one accord;
It will some help afford:
Though you be Knight or Lord,
You may find Shield and Sword
Here in the Holy Word.

Here enter Ladies all of high Degree,

Of goodly Shape, of Humour gay and free;
Of lovely Looks, of sprightly Flesh and Blood:
Here take, here chuse, here settle your abode.
Then gent, the brisk, the fair, whoever comes,
With Eyes that sparkle, or whose Beauty blooms.
This Bower is fashion'd by a gentle Knight,
Ladies, for you; and innocent Delight.

This is design'd a place

For every Charming Grace;
The Witty and the Fair
Hither may all repair;
For every lovely Face
 163

This is design'd a Place.

217

CHAP. LV. What manner of Dwelling the The|lemites had.

IN the middle of the lower Court there was a stately Fountain of fair Alabaster. Upon the top
thereof stood the three Graces, with their Cornucopias, and did jett out the Water at their
Breasts, Mouth, Ears, Eyes and other open Passages of the Body. The inside of the Buildings in
this lower Court stood upon great Pillars of Cassydonie Stone, and Porphyry Marble, made
Arch-ways after a goodly antic fashion. Wi[...]hin those were spacious Galleries, long and large,
adorned with curious Pictures, the Horns of Bucks and Unicorns; with Rhinosceroses, Water-
horses called Hippopotames, the teeth and tusks of Elephants, and other things well worth the
holding. The Lodging of the Ladies took up all from the Tower Arctic unto the Gate
Mesembrine. The Men possessed the rest, before the said Lodging of the Ladies, that they might
have their Recreation between the two first Towers. One the out-side were placed the Tilt-yard,
the Theatre and Natatorie; with most admirable Baths in three Stages, scituated above one
another, well furnished with all necessary Accommodation, and store 218 of Myrtle-water. By
the River side was the fair Garden of Pleasures; and in the midst of that of Labyrinth. Between
the two other Towers were the Courts for the Tennis and the Baloon. Towards the Tower Criere
stood the Orchard full of all Fruit-trees, set and ranged in a quincuncial Order. At the end of that
was the great Park, abounding with all sort of Venison. Betwixt the third couple of Towers were
the Buts and Marks for shooting with a snap work Gun, an ordi|nary Bow for common Archery,
or with a Cross-bow. The Office-houses were without the Tower Hesperie, of one story high. The
Stable were beyond the Offices, and before them stood the Falconry, managed by Ostridge-
keepers and Falconers, very expert in the Air. And it was yearly supplied and furnish|ed by the
Candians; Venetians, Sarmates with all sorts of most excellent Hawks, Eagles, Ger|falcons,
Gosehawks, Sacres, Lannier, Falcons, Spar-hawks, Marlins, and all other kinds of them; so
gentle and perfectly well manned, that flying of themselves sometimes from the Castle for their
own desport, they would not fail to catch whatever they encountred. The Venerie where the
Beagles and Hounds were kept, was a little farther off drawing towards the Park,

All the Halls, Chambers and Closets or Cabinets were richly hung with Tapestry, and Hangings
of divers sorts, according to 219 the variety of the Seasons of the Year. All the Pavements and
Floors were covered with green Cloath; the Beds were all Embroi|dered: In every back-chamber
or with|drawing Room there was a Looking-glass of pure Crystal set in a frame of fine Gold,
garnished all about with Pearls, and was of such greatness, that it would represent to the full the
whole lineaments and propor|tion of the person that stood before it. At the going out of the Halls,
which belong to the Ladies Lodgings, were the Perfumers and Trimmers, through whose Hands
the Gallants past when they were to visit the Ladies. Those sweet Artificers did every Morning
furnish the Ladies Chambers with the Spirit of Roses, Orange-flower-water and Angelica; and to
each of them gave a little precious Casket, vapouring forth the most odorife|rous Exhalations of
the choisest aromatical Scents.
 164

CHAP. LVI. How the Men and Women of the reli|gious Order of Theleme were
Appa|relled.

THE Ladies at the Foundation of this O[...]der, were apparelled after their own 220 Pleasure and
Liking. But since that of their own accord and free will they have reformed themselves, their
Accoutrements is in manner as followeth. They wore Stockings of scar|let Crimson, or ingrained
purple Die, which reached just three Inches above the Knee, having a list beautified with
exquisite em|broideries, and rare incisions of the Cutters Art. Their Garters were of the colour of
their Bracelets, and circled the knee a little, both over and under. Their Shooes, Pumps and
Slippers were either of red, violet or crimson-velvet, pinked and jagged like Lob|ster wadles.

Next to their Smock they put on the pretty Kirtle or Vasquin of pure silk Chamlet: Above that
went the taffaty or taby Vardin|gale, of white, red, tawny, gray or of any other colour: Above this
taffaty Petticoat they had another of Cloath of tissue or bro|cado, embroidered with fine Gold,
and inter|laced with Needle-work, or as they thought good, and according to the temperature and
disposition of the Weather, had their upper coats of Satin, Damask or Velvet, and those either
orange, tawny, green, ash colour'd, blew, yelow, bright, red, crimson or white, and so forth; or
had them of cloath of Gold, cloath of Silver, or some other choice stuff, inriched with Purple, or
embroidered accor|ding to the dignity of the festival Days and Times wherein they wore them.

221 Their Gowns being still correspondent to the Season, were either of cloath of Gold frizled
with a silver-raised work; of red Sattin, covered with Gold purple; of taby or taffa|ty, white,
blew, black, tawny, &c. of silk Serge, silk Chamlet, Velvet, cloath of Silver, silver Tissue, cloath
of Gold, gold Wire, fi|gur'd Velvet, or figur'd Sattin tinselled· and overcast with golden Threads,
in divers vari|ously purfled draughts.

In Summer some days instead of Gowns they wore light handsom Mantles, made ei|ther of the
stuff of the aforesaid Attire, or like Moresco Rugs, of Violet, velvet frizled, with a raised work of
Gold upon silver Purle; or with a knotted Cord-work of Gold em|broidery, every where garnished
with little Indian Pearls. They always carried a fair Pannache, or plume of Feathers, of the
co|lour of their Muff, bravely adorned and tricked out with glistering Spangles of Gold. In the
Winter-time they had their taffaty Gowns of all Colours, as above-named: And those lined with
the rich Furrings of Hind-Wolves, or speckled Linxes, black-spotted Weesils, martlet-skins of
Calabria, Sables, and other costly Furs of inestimable value. Their Beads, Rings, Bracelets,
Collars, Car|canets and Neck chains were all of precious Stones, such as Carbuncles, Rubies,
Baleus, Diamonds, Saphirs, Emeralds, Turkoises, Garnets, Agates, Berilles and excellent
Mar|garits, 222 Their Head-dressing also varied with the season of the year, according to which
they decked themselves. In Winter it was of the French fashion; in the Spring of the Spa|nish; in
Summer of the fashion of Tuscany, except only upon the holy Days and Sundays, at which time
they were accoutred in the French mode, because they accounted it more honourable, and better
befitting the garb of a matronal pudicity.
 165

The Men were Apparelled after their fa|shion: Their Stockins were of Tamine, or of cloath Serge,
of white, black, scarlet, or some other ingrain'd Colour: Their Breeches were of Velvet, of the
same Colour with their Stokins, or very near, embroidered and cut according to their Fancy.
Their Doublet was of cloath of Gold, of cloath of Silver, of Velvet, Sattin, Damask,
T[...]ffa[...]ies, &c. of the same colours, cut, embroidered and sui|tably trimmed up in perfection.
The points were of Silk of the same colours; the tags were of Gold well enamelled. Their Coats
and Jerkins were of cloath of Gold, cloath of Silver, Gold, Tissue or Velvet embroidered, as they
thought fit. Their Gowns were every whit as costly as those of the Ladies. Their Girdles were of
silk, of the colour of their Doublets. Every one had a gallant Sword by his side, the hilt and
handle whereof were gilt, and the scabbard of Velvet of the colour of his Breeches, with a chape
of Gold, and pure 223 Goldsmiths work. The Dagger was of the same. Their Caps or Bonnets
were of black Velvet, adorned with Jewels and Buttons of gold; upon that they wore a white
Plume, most pritily and minion-like, parted by so many rows of gold Spangles, at the end
whereof hung dangling in a more sparkling resplendency fair Rubies, Emeralds, Dia|monds, &c.
but there was such a sympathy betwixt the Gallants and the Ladies, that every day they were
apparelled in the same Livery. And that they might not miss, there were certain Gentlemen
appointed to tell the Youths every morning what Vestments the Ladies would on that day wear;
for all was done according to the pleasure of the Ladies. In these so handsom Cloaths and
A|biliaments so rich, think not that either one or other of either Sex did waste any time at all; for
the Masters of the Wardrobes had all their Raiments and Apparel so ready for every Morning,
and the Chamber Ladies so well skilled, that in a trice they would be dressed, and compleatly in
their clothes from head to foot. And to have those Ac|coutrements with the more conveniency.
There was about the Wood of Theleme a row of Houses of the extent of half a league, ve|ry neat
and cleanly, wherein dwelt the Gold|smiths, Lapidaries, Jewellers, Embroiderers, Tailors, Gold-
drawers, Velvet-weavers, Ta|pestry-makers and Upholsters, who wrought 224 there every one in
his own Trade, and all for the aforesaid jolly Friars and Nuns of the new Stamp. They were
furnished with Matter and Stuff from the hands of the Lord Nausiclete, who every year brought
them seven Ships from the Perlas and Cannibal Islands, laden with ingots of Gold, with raw
Silk, with Pearls and precious stones. And if any Vnions began to grow old, and lose somewhat
of their natural whiteness and lustre, those with their Art did renew, by tendering them to eat to
some pretty Cocks, as they use to give Casting unto Hawks.

CHAP. LVII. How the Thelemites were governed and of their manner of Living.

ALL their life was spent not in Laws, Statutes or Rules, but according to their own free Will and
Pleasure. They rose out of their Beds, when they thought good: They did eat, drink, labour, sleep,
when they had a mind to it, and were dispo|sed for it. None did awake them, none did offer to
constrain them to eat, drink, nor to do any other thing; for so had Gargantua established it. In all
their Rule, and strictest tie of their order, there was but this one clause to be observed.

225 Do what thou wilt.

 166

Because Men that are free, well-born, well-bred and conversant in honest com|panies, have
naturally an Instinct and Spur that prompteth them unto vertuous Actions, and withdraws them
from Vice, which is cal|led honour. Those same Men, when by base subjection and constraint
they are brought under and kept down, turn aside from that noble disposition, by which they
formerly were inclined to Vertue, to shake off and break that bond of servitude, wherein they are
so tyranniously inslaved; for it is agree|able to the nature of Man to long after things forbidden,
and to desire what is de|nied us.

By this Liberty they entered into a very laudable emulation, to do all of them what they saw did
please one. If any of the Gal|lants or Ladies should say, Let us drink, they would all drink. If any
one of them said, Let us play, they all played. If one said, Let us go a walking into the Fields,
they went all. If it were to go a hawking or a hunting, the Ladies mounted upon dainty well-
paced Nags, seated in a stately Palfrey saddle, carried on their lovely fists Miniardly begloved
every one of them, either a Spar|hawk, or a Laneret, or a Marlin, and the young Gallants carried
the other kinds of 226 Haws. So nobly were they taught, that there was neither he nor she
amongst them, but could read, write, sing, play upon several musical Instruments, speak five or
six several Languages, and compose in them all very quaintly, both in Verse and Prose. Never
were seen so valiant Knights, so noble and worthy, so dextrous and skilful both on foot and a
horseback, more brisk and lively, more nimble and quick, or better handling all man|ner of
Weapons then were there. Never were seen Ladies so proper and handsom, so miniard and
dainty, less froward, or more ready with their hand, and with their needle, in every honest and
free Action belonging to that Sex then were there. For this reason when the time came, that any
Man of the said Abbey, either at the request of his Pa|rents, or for some other cause, had a mind
to go out of it, he carried along with him one of the Ladies, namely her whom he had before that
chosen for his Mistress, and were married together. And if they had formerly in Theleme lived in
good Devotion and A|mity, they did continue therein, and in|crease it to a greater height in their
state of Matrimony: And did entertain that mu|tual Love till the very last day of their Life, in no
less vigour and fervency, then at the very day of their Wedding. Here must I not forget to set
down unto you a Riddle, which was found under the Ground, as they 227 were laying the
foundation of the Abbey, ingra|ven in copper Plate and it was thus as follow|eth.

CHAP. LVIII. A Prophetical Riddle in the Style of Merlyn.

POor mortals, who wait for a happy day,

Cheer up your Hearts, and here what I shall say;
If it be lawful firmly to beleive,
That the Caelestial Body can us give;
Wisdom to judge of things that are not yet
Or if from Heaven such Wisdom we may get;
As may with confidence make us discourse
Of years to come their destiny and course
 167

I to my Hearer give to understand

That this next Winter, though it be at hand,
Yea and before, there shall appear a race
Of Men, who loth to sit still in one place;
Shall boldly go before all peoples eyes
Suborning Men of divers qualities,
To draw them unto covenants and sides,
In such a manner that wha[...] 're betides,
They'l move you, if you giv[...] them ear (no doubt)
With both your friends and kind[...]ed to fall out;
They make a Vassel to [...] his Lord,
And Children their own Pa[...]ents, in a Word,
All Reverences shall then be banished,
No true respect to other shall be had.
They'l say that every Man should have his turn,
Both in his going forth, and his return;
And hereupon there shall arise such woes,
Such jarrings and confused toes and froes;
That never were in history such coyles,
228 Set down as yet such tumults and garboyls;
Then shall you many gallant Men see by
Valour stirr'd up, and youthful fervencie;
Who trusting too much in their hopeful time,
Live but a while, and perish in their prime;
Neither shall any who this course shall run,
Leave off the Race, which he hath once begun;
Till they the Heavens with noise by their contention,
Have fill'd and with their steps the Earths dimension,
Then those shall have no less authority,
That have no faith, then those that will not lie;
For then shall all be governed by a rude,
Base, ignorant and foolish multitude;
The veriest lowt of all shall be their Judge,
O horrible and dangerous deluge!
Deluge I call it, and that for good reason
For this shall be omitted in no season;
Nor shall the Earth of this foul stir be free,
Till suddenly you in great store shall see
The Waters Issue out with whose streams the
Most moderate of all shall moist'ned be;
And justly too, because they did not spare
The flocks of Beasts that innocentest are;
But did their sinews, and their bowels take,
Not to the Gods a Sacrifice to make;
But usually to serve themselves for sport,
And now consider, I do you exhort.
 168

In such Commotions so continual,

What rest can take the Globe-terrestrial.
Most happy then are they, that can it hold,
And use it carefully as precious gold,
By keeping it in Goal, whence it shall have
No help but him, who being to it gave:
And to increase his mournful accident
The Sun before is set in th' occident;
Shall cease to dart upon it any light,
More then in an Eclipse, or in the night;
So that at once its favour shall be gone,
And Liberty with it be left alone;
And yet before it come to ruine thus,
229 Its quaking shall be as impetuous
As Aetna's was, when Titan's Sons lay under,
And yeild when lost, a fearful sound like thunder.
Inarime, did not more quickly move,
When Typheu's did the vast huge hills remove;
And for despite into the Sea them threw.
Thus shall it then be lost by ways not few,
And chang'd suddenly, when those that have it,
To other Men that after come shall leave it,
Then shall it be high time to cease from this,
So long, so great, so tedious exercise;
For the great Waters now foretold by me,
Will make each think where his retreat shall be;
And yet before that they be clean disperst,
You may behold in the air where nought was erst,
The burning heat of a great flame to rise,
Lick up the Water, and the enterprise.
It resteth after those things to declare,
That those shall sit content, who chosen are;
With all good things, and with coelestial Man,
And richly Recompensed every Man;
The others at the last all strip't shall b[...],
That after this great work all Men may see
How each shall have his due, this is their lot,
O he is worthy-praise that shrinketh not.

No sooner was this aenigmatical monument read over, but Gargantua fetching a very deep sigh
said unto those that stood by: It is not now only (I perceive) that People called to the faith of the
Gospel, and convinced with the certainty of E|vangelical Truths are persecuted: But happy is that
Man that shall not be scandaliz'd, but shall always continue to the end, in aiming at that Mark,
which God by his dear Son hath set before us, without being distracted or diverted by his carnal
affections and depraved Nature.
 169

The Monk then said, What do you think in your Conscience is meant and signified by this
Riddle? What? (said Gargantua) the progress 230 and carrying on of the Divine Truth. By St.
Goderan (said the Monk) that is not my Exposition; it is the style of the Prophet Merlin; make
upon it as many grave allegories and glosses as you will and dote upon it, you and the rest of the
World as long as you please; for my part, I can con|ceive no other meaning in it, but a description
of a set at Tennis in dark and obscure terms.

The suborners of Men are the makers of Matches which are commonly friends. After the two
Chases are made, he that was at the upper end of the Tennis-Court goeth out, and the other
cometh In. They beleive the first, that saith the Ball was over or under the Line. The Waters are
the Heats that the Players take till they sweat again. The Cords of the Rackets are made of the
Guts of Sheep or Goats. The Globe-terrestrial is the Tennis-Ball. After playing, when the game is
done, they refresh themselves before a clear fire, and change their shirts, but very willingly they
make all good Cheer, but most merrily those that have gained; And so farewel.

The End of the first Book.

THE Second BOOK of the WORKS OF Mr. FRANCIS RABELAIS, Doctor in Physick:
Treating of the Heroick Deeds and Sayings of the Good PANTAGRUEL.

Written Originally in the FRENCH TONGUE, And now faithfully Translated into ENGLISH.

By S. T. V. C.

[...];

Mean, speak, and do well.

London, Printed for Richard Baldwin, near the Oxford-Arms in Warwick-Lane, 1694.

RABELAIS TO THE READER.

ELsewhere, I taught Physicians doubtful Skill,

Like other Doctors, how to cure or kill:
Here is my Nostrum, that can ne're miscarry;
For all I here prescribe, is to be merry·
 170

One Dram of Mirth will sooner mend thy Crasis,

Than twenty bitter Draughts, with scurvy Faces.
Let Chymist or the Galenist prevail;
Yet sure a Course of Mirth is worth 'em all.
No Drug, nor Hellebore, no Rhubarb safe;
O still, the only Physick is to laugh:
To which, if this small Book cannot provoke thee,
Let Pills, let Bolus, Quack, or Ratcliff choke thee.

iv

THE Author's Prologue.

MOst illustrious and thrice valorous Champions, Gentlemen and others, who willingly apply
your Minds to the high flights and harmless sallies of Wit. You have not long ago seen, read and
understood the great and inestimable Chronicles of the huge Giant Gargantua; and like true Men
of Faith, have firmly believed all that is contained in them, and have very often past your Time
amongst Honourable Ladies and Gentlewomen, telling them fair long Stories when you were out
of all other Talk, for which you are worthy of great Praise and sempiternal Memory. And I do
heartily wish that every Man would lay aside his own Business, meddle no more with his
Profession nor Trade, and throw all Affairs concerning himself behind his Back, to attend this
wholly, without distracting or troubling his Mind with any thing else, until he have learned all
without Book; that if by chance the Art of Printing should cease, or in case that in time to come
all Books should perish, every Man might truly teach them to his Children, and deliver them v
over to his Successors and Survivors from hand to hand, as a religious Cabal: for there is in it
more Profit, than a Rabble of great pocky Logger-heads are able to discern, who surely
understand far less in these little Merriments, than Raclet did in the Institutes.

I have known great and mighty Lords, and of those not a few, who going a Deer-hunting, or a
hawking after wild Ducks, when the Chase had not encountred with the Blinks, that were cast in
her way to retard her Course, or that the Hawk did but plain and smoothly fly with|out moving
her Wings, perceiving the Prey by force of flight to have gained Bounds of her, have been much
chafed and vexed, as you understand well enough; but the Comfort unto which they had Refuge,
and that they might not take cold, who was to relate the inestimable Deeds of the said
Gargantua. There are others in the World, (these are no flimflam Stories) who being much
troubled with the Tooth-ache, after they had spent their Goods upon Physi|cians, without
receiving at all any ease of their Pain, have found no more ready Remedy than to put the said
Chronicles betwixt two pieces of Linen Cloth made somewhat hot, and so apply them to the
place that smarteth synapising them with a little Pouder of Projection, otherways called Doribus.

But what shall I say of those poor Men that are plagued with the Pox and the Gout? O how often
have we seen them, even immediately vi after they were anointed and throughly greased, till
their Faces did glister like the Key-hole of a Powdering-Tub, their Teeth dance like the Iacks of a
pair of little Organs or Virginals when they are play'd upon, and that they foamed from their very
Throats like a Boar, which the Mongrel Mastiff-hounds have driven in, and overthrown amongst
the Toils: What did they then? All their Consolation was to have some Page of the said jolly
 171

Book read unto them. And we have seen those who have given them|selves to an hundred
Punchions of old Devils, in case that they did not feel a manifest Ease and Asswagement of Pain,
at the hearing of the said Book read, even when they were kept in a Purgatory of Torment; no
more nor less than Women in Travail use to find their Sorrow abated, when the Life of St.
Margarite is read unto them. Is this nothing? find me a Book in any Language, in any Faculty or
Science whatsoever, that hath such Virtues, Properties and Prerogatives, and I will be content to
pay you a Chapine of Tripes. No, my Masters, no, it is peerless, incomparable, and not to be
matched, and this am I resolved for ever to maintain even unto the Fire exclusivè. And those that
will pertinaciously hold the contrary Opinion, let them be accounted Abusers, Predesti|nators,
Impostors and Seducers of the People. It is very true, that there are found in some noble and
famous Books, certain occult and hidden Properties, in the number of which are vii reckoned
Whippot, Orlando furioso, Robert the Devil, Fierabras, William without fear, Huon of
Bourdeaux, Monteville, and Mata|brune: but they are not comparable to that which we speak of:
And the World hath well known by infallible Experience, the great Emo|lument and Vtility
which it hath received by this Gargantuine Chronicle; for the Printers have sold more of them in
two Months time, than there will be bought of Bibles in nine Years.

I therefore (your humble Slave) being very willing to increase your Solace and Recreations yet a
little more, do offer you for a Present, another Book of the same stamp, only that it is a little
more reasonable and worthy of Credit than the other was; for think not (unless you wilfully will
err against your Knowledg) that I speak of it as the Jews do of the Law. I was not born under
such a Planet, neither did it ever befal me to lie, or affirm a thing for true that was not: I speak of
it like a jolly Onocrotarie, I should say Preignotary of the martyrized Lovers, and Croquenotarie
of Love: Quod vidimus, testamur. It is of the horrible and dreadful Feats and Prowesses of
Panta|gruel, whose Menial Servant I have been ever since I was a Page till this hour, that by his
leave I am permitted to visit my Cow-Country, and to know if any of my Kindred there be alive.

viii And therefore to make an end of this Pro|logue, even as I give my self fairly to an hun|dred
Panniers full of Devils, Body and Soul, Tripes and Guts, in case that I lie so much as one single
word in this whole History. In like manner St. Anthony's Fire burn you, Mawmet's Disease whirl
you, the Squinzy choke you, Botches, Crinckums sink you plumb down to Pegtrantums, Plagues
of Sodom and Go|morrah, cram your pocky Arse with Sorrow, Fire, Brimstone, and Pits
bottomless swallow you all alive, in case you do not firmly believe all that I shall relate unto you
in this present Chronicle.

The Second Book of RABELAIS, Treating of the Heroick Deeds and Sayings of the Good
PANTAGRUEL.

CHAP. I. Of the Original and Antiquity of the Great Pantagruel.

 172

IT will not be an idle nor unprofitable thing, seeing we are at leasure to put you in mind of the
Fountain and Original Source, whence is derived unto us the good Pantagruel; for I see that all
good Hi|storiographers have thus handled their Chro|nicles, not only the Arabians, Barbarians
and Latines, but also the gentle Greeks, who were eternal Drinkers. You must therefore remark,
that at the beginning of the World (I speak of a long time, it is above forty two Quaran|tains 10
of Nights, according to the supputation of the ancient Druids) a little after that Abel was killed by
his Brother Cain, the Earth im|brued with the Blood of the Just, was one Year so exceeding
fertile in all those Fruits which it usually produceth to us, and especially in Medlars, that ever
since, throughout all Ages it hath been called the Year of the great Medlars, for three of them did
fill a Bushel. In that Year the Calends were found by the Grecian Almanacks; there was that
Year no|th[...]ng of the Month of March in the time of Lent, and the middle of August was in
May. In the Month of October, as I take it, or at least September (that I may not err, for I will
carefully take heed of that) was the Week so famous in the Annals, which they call the Week of
the three Thursdays; for it had three of them by means of the irregular Bissextile, occasioned by
the Sun's having tripped and stumbled a little towards the left hand, like a Debtor afraid of
Serjeants; and the Moon va|ried from her Course above five Fathom; and the[...]e was manifestly
seen the Motion of Tre|pidation in the Firmament, called Aplanes: so that the middle Pleiade
leaving her Fellows, declined towards the Equinoctial; and the Star named Spic[...], left the
Constellation of the Virgin to withdraw her self tow[...]rds the Bal|lance: which are Cases very
terrible, and Mat|ters so hard and difficult, that Astrologians cannot set their Teeth in them; and
indeed 11 their Teeth had been pretty long if they could have reached thither.

However account you it for a Truth, that every body did then most heartily eat of these Medlars,
for they were fair to the Eye, and in Taste delicious. But even as Noah that holy Man (to whom
we are so much behol|den, bound and obliged, for that he planted to us the Vine, from whence
we have that nectarian, delicious, precious, heavenly, joy|ful and deifick Liquor, which they call
the Piot, or Tiplage) was deceived in the drinking of it, for he was ignorant of the great Virtue
and Power thereof: So likewise the Men and Women of that time did delight much in the eating
of that fair great Fruit, but divers and very different Accidents did ensue thereupon; for there fell
upon them all in their Bodies a most terrible Swelling, but not upon all in the same place; for
some were swollen in the Belly, and their Belly strouted out big like a great Tun; of whom it is
written, Ventrem Omni|potentem; who were all very honest Men, and merry Blades: and of this
Race came St. Fat|gulch and Shrovetuesday. Others did swell at the Shoulders, who in that place
were so crump and knobby, that they were therefore called Montifers, (which is as much as to
say Hill-carriers) of whom you see some yet in the World of divers Sexes and Degrees. Of this
Race came Aesop, some of whose excel|lent Words and Deeds you have in Writing, 12 Some
other Puffes did swell in length by the Member, which they call the Labourer of Nature, in such
sort that it grew marvellous long, plump, jolly, lusty, stirring and Crest-risen in the Antick
fashion; so that they made use of it as of a Girdle, winding it five or six times about their Waste:
But if it happened the foresaid Member to be in good case, spooming with a full Sail, bunt fair
before the Wind, then to have seen those strouting Champions, you would have taken them for
Men that had their Lances setled on their Rest, to run at the Ring, or tilting Whintam. Of these
believe me the Race is utterly lost and quite ex|tinct, as the Women say; for they do lament
continually, that there are none extant now of those long, plump, &c. you know the rest of the
Song. Others did grow in matter of Ballocks so enormously, that three of them would fill a Sack;
from them are descended the Ballocks of Lorrain, which never dwell in Codpieces, but fall down
 173

to the bottom of the Breeches. Others grew in the Hams, and to see them, you would have said
they had been Cranes, or Flamans, or else Men walking upon Stilts; the little School-boys called
these Iambicks. In others, their Nose did grow so, that it seemed to be the Beak of a Limbeck, in
every part thereof most variously diapred with the twinkling Sparkles of Crimson-blisters
bud|ding forth, and purpled with Pimples all enamaled with thick-set Wheals of a sanguine 13
Colour, bordered with Queules; and such have you seen the Prebend Panzoul, and Woodenfoot
the Physician of Angiers: of which Race there were few that liked the Ptisane, but all of them
were perfect lovers of the pure sep|tembral Iuice. Naso and Ovid had their Ex|traction from
thence, and all those of whom it is written, Ne reminiscaris. Others grew in Ears, which they had
so big, that out of one would have been stuff enough got to make a Doublet, a pair of Breeches
and a Jacket, whilst with the other they might have covered themselves as with a Spanish Cloak:
and they say, that in Bourbonois this Race remaineth yet: And from thence they are called the
Ears of Burbon. Others grew in length of Body, and of those came the Giants, and of them
Pantagruel.

 And the first was Chalbroth,

 who begat Sarabroth,
 who begat Faribroth,
 who begat Hurtali, that was a brave Eater of Pottage, and reigned in the time of the
Elood;
 who begat Nembroth,
 who begat Atlas, that with his Shoulders kept the Sky from falling;
 who begat Goliah,
 who begat Erix, that invented the Hocus Po|cus-Plays of Legerdemain;
 who begat Titius,
 14 who begat Eryon,
 who begat Poliphemus,
 who begat Cacos,
 who begat Etion, the first Man that ever had the Pox, for not drinking fresh in Summer, as
Burtachin witnesseth;
 who begat Enceladus,
 who begat Ceus,
 who begat Tiphaeus,
 who begat Alaeus,
 who begat Othus,
 who begat Aegeon,
 who begat Briareus, that had an hundred Hands;
 who begat Porphyrio,
 who begat Adamastor,
 who begat Anteus,
 who begat Agatho,
 who begat Porus, against whom fought Alex|ander the Great;
 who begat Aranthas,
 who begat Cabbara, that was the first Inven|tor of drinking of Healths;
 who begat Goliah of Secondille,
 who begat Offot, that was terribly well-nosed for drinking at the Barrel-head;
 174

 who begat Artachaeus,

 who begat Oromedon,
 who begat Gemmagog, the first Inventor of Poulan-Shoes, which are open on the Foot,
and tied over the Instep with a Latchet;
 who begat Sisyphus,
 15 who begat the Titans, of whom Hercules was born;
 who begat Enay, the most skilful Man that ever was, in matter of taking the little Worms
out of the Hands;
 who begat Fierabras, that was vanquished by Oliver Peer of France, and Rowland's
Camerade;
 who begat Morgan, the first in the World that play'd at Dice with Spectacles;
 who begat Fracassus, of whom Merlin Coc|caius hath written, and of him was born
Ferragus;
 who begat Hapmouche, the first that ever in|vented the drying of Neats-Tongues in the
Chimney; for before that People salted them as they do now Gammons of Bacon:
 who begat Bolivorax,
 who begat Longis,
 who begat Gayoffo, whose Ballocks were of Poplar, and his Pr--- of the Servise, or Sorb-
Apple-Tree:
 who begat Maschefain,
 who begat Bruslefer,
 who begat An[...]ulevent,
 who begat Galehant, the Inventor of Flagons;
 who begat Mirelangant,
 who begat Gallaffre,
 who begat Salourdin,
 who begat Roboast,
 who begat Sortibrant of Conimbres,
 who begat Brusbant of Mommiere,
 16 who begat Bruyer, that was overcome by Ogier the Dane, Peer of France;
 who begat Mabrun,
 who begat Foutasnon,
 who begat Haquelebas,
 who begat Vitdegrain,
 who begat Grangousier,
 who begat Gargantua,
 who begat the noble Pantagruel my Master.

I know that reading this Passage, you will make a doubt within your selves, and that grounded
upon very good Reason, which is this, How is it possible that this Relation can be true, seeing at
the time of the Flood all the World was destroyed except Noah, and seven Persons more with
him in the Ark, in|to whose number Hurtali is not admitted: Doubtless the Demand is well made,
and ve|ry apparent; but the Answer shall satisfy you, or my Wit is not rightly caulked: and
because I was not at that time to tell you any thing of my own fancy, I will bring unto you the
Authority of the Masorets, good honest Fel|lows, true Ballockeering Blades, and exact
He|braical Bagpipers, who affirm that verily the said Hurtali was not within the Ark of Noah,
 175

(neither could he get in, for he was too big) but he sat astride upon it, with one Leg on the one
side, and another on the other, as little Children used to do upon their wooden Hor|ses; or as the
great Bull of Berne, which was 17 killed at Marinian, did ride for his Hackney the great
Murdering-Piece, a pretty Beast of a fair and pleasant Amble without all question.

In that posture he, after God, saved the said Ark from danger, for with his Legs he gave it the
Brangle that was needful, and with his Foot turned it whither he pleased, as a Ship answereth her
Rudder. Those that were within sent him up Victuals in abundance by a Chimney, as People very
thankfully ac|knowledging the Good that he did them: And sometimes they did talk together, as
Varomenippus did to Iupiter, according to the report of Lucian. Have you understood all this
well? Drink then one good draught with|out Water, for if you believe it not: No truly do I not,
quoth she.

CHAP. II. Of the Nativity of the most dread and redoubted Pantagruel.

GArgantua at the Age of four hundred fourscore forty and four Years begat his Son Pantagruel,
upon his Wife named Badebec, Daughter to the King of the Amaurots in Vtopia, who died in
Child-birth; for he was so wonderfully great and lumpish, that he could not possibly come forth
into the Light of the World, without thus suffocating his 18 Mother. But that we may fully
understand the cause and reason of the Name of Panta|gruel, which at his Baptism was given
him, you are to remark, that in that Year there was so great Drought over all the Country of
Afri[...]k, that there past thirty and six Months, three Weeks, four Days, thirteen Hours, and a
little more without Rain, but with a Heat so vehement, that the whole Earth was parched and
withered by it: Neither was it more scorched and dried up with Heat in the days of Elijah, than it
was at that time; for there was not a Tree to be seen, that had either Leaf or Bloom upon it: the
Grass was with|out Verdure or Greenness, the Rivers were drained, the Fountains dried up, the
poor Fishes abandoned and forsaken by their pro|per Element, wandring and crying upon the
Ground most horribly: the Birds did fall down from the Air for want of Moisture and Dew
wherewith to refresh them: the Wolves, Foxes, Harts, Wild-Boars, Fallow-Deer, Hares, Coneys,
Weesils, Brocks, Badgers, and other such Beasts were found dead in the Fields with their Mouths
open. In respect of Men, there was the Pity, you should have seen them lay out their Tongues
like Hares that have been run six Hours; many did throw them|selves into the Wells; others
entred within a Cow's Belly to be in the Shade; those Homer calls Alibants: all the Country was
at a stand, and nothing could be done; it was a most 19 lamentable case to have seen the Labour
of Mortals in defending themselves from the Ve|hemency of this horrifick Drought; for they had
work enough to do to save the holy Water in the Churches from being wasted: but there was such
order taken by the Counsel of my Lords the Cardinals, and of our Holy Father, that none did
dare to take above one lick; yet when any one came into the Church, you should have seen above
twenty poor thirsty Fellows hang upon him that was the Distributer of the Water, and that with a
wide open Throat, gaping for some little drop (like the rich Glutton in St. Luke) that might fall
by, lest any thing should be lost. O how happy was he in that Year who had a cool Cellar under
ground, well plenished with fresh Wine!
 176

The Philosopher reports in moving the Question, Wherefore is it that the Sea-Water is salt? That
at the time when Phoebus gave the Government of his resplendent Chariot to his Son Phaeton,
the said Phaeton, unskilful in the Art, and not knowing how to keep the Ecliptick-Line betwixt
the two Tropicks of the Latitude of the Sun's Course, strayed out of his way, and came so near
the Earth, that he dried up all the Countries that were under it, burning a great part of the
Hea|ven, which the Philosophers call Via lactea, and the Huffsnuffs, St. Iames his way; altho the
most lofty and high-crested Poets affirm 20 that to be the place where Iuno's Milk fell when she
gave Suck to Hercules.

The Earth at that time was so excessively heated, that it fell into an enormous Sweat, yea such an
one that made it sweat out the Sea, which is therefore salt, because all Sweat is salt; and this you
cannot but confess to be true, if you will taste of your own, or of those that have the Pox when
they are put into a sweating, it is all one to me. Just such another case fell out this same Year; for
on a certain Friday, when the whole People were bent upon their Devotions, and had made
goodly Processions, with store of Letanies, and fair Preachings, and Beseechings of God
Al|mighty to look down with his Eye of Mercy upon their miserable and disconsolate Con|dition,
there was even then visibly seen issue out of the Ground great drops of Water, such as fall from a
Man in a top Sweat; and the poor Hoydons began to rejoice, as if it had been a thing very
profitable unto them; for some said that there was not one drop of Moisture in the Air, whence
they might have any Rain, and that the Earth did supply the default of that. Other learned Men
said, that it was a Shower of the Antipodes, as Se|neca saith in his fourth Book Quaestionum
Na|turalium, speaking of the Source and Spring of Nilus; but they were deceived; for the
Procession being ended, when every one went about to gather of this Dew, and to drink 21 of it
with full Bowls, they found that it was nothing but Pickle, and the very Brine of Salt, more
brackish in Taste than the saltest Water of the Sea: and because in that very Day Pantagruel was
born, his Father gave him that Name; for Panta in Greek is as much as to say all, and Gruel in
the Hagarene Language doth signify thirsty; inferring here|by, that at his Birth the whole World
was a|dry and thirsty; as likewise foreseeing that he would be some day Supream Lord and
Soveraign of the thirsty Companions, which was shewn to him at that very same hour by a more
evident sign; for when his Mother Badebec was in the bringing of him forth, and that the
Midwives did wait to receive him, there came first out of her Belly three|score and eight Salt-
sellers, every one of them leading in a Halter a Mule heavy loaded with Salt; after whom issued
forth nine Dromeda|ries, with great Loads of Gammons of Ba|con, and dried Neats-Tongues on
their Backs; then followed seven Camels loaded with Links and Chitterlins, Hogs-puddings and
Sassages; after them came out five great Wains full of Leeks, Garlick, Onions and Chibols,
drawn with five and thirty strong Cart-horses, which was six for every one, besides the Thiller.
At the sight hereof the Midwives were much amazed; yet some of them said, Lo, here is good
Provision, and indeed we need it, for we drink but lazily, as if our Tongues walked 22 on
Crutches: truly this is a good sign there is nothing here but what is fit for us, these are the Spurs
of Wine that set it a going. As they were tatling thus together after their own man|ner of Chat,
behold, out comes Pantagruel all hairy like a Bear; whereupon one of them in|spired with a
Prophetical Spirit, said, This will be a terrible Fellow, he is born with all his Hair, he is
undoubtedly to do wonderful things; and if he live, he will be of Age.
 177

CHAP. III. Of the Grief wherewith Gargantua was moved at the Decease of his Wife
Badebec.

WHen Pantagruel was born, there was none more astonished and perplexed than was his Father
Gargantua; for on the one side seeing his Wife Badebec dead, and on the other side his Son
Pantagruel born, so fair and so goodly, he knew not what to say nor what to do; and the Doubt
that troubled his Brain, was to know whether he should cry for the Death of his Wife, or laugh
for the Joy of his Son: he was hinc inde choaked with Sophistical Arguments, for he framed them
very well in modo & figura, but he could not resolve them, remaining pe|stered and entangled by
this means, like a Mouse catch'd in a Trap, or Kite snar'd in a Gin. Shall I weep? (said he) Yes,
for why? my so good 23 Wife is dead, who was the most this, the most that, that ever was in the
World: Never shall I see her, never shall I recover such another; it is unto me an inestimable
Loss! O my good God, what had I done that thou shouldst thus punish me? Why didst thou not
take me away before her? seeing for me to live without her, is but to languish. Ah, Badebec,
Badebec, my Minion, my dear Heart, my Pigsney, my Duck, my Honey, my little C--- (yet it
hath in Circumference full six Acres, three Rods, five Poles, four Yards, two Feet, one Inch and a
half of good Woodland Measure) my ten|der Peggy, my Codpiece-Darling, my bob and hit, my
Slipshoe-Lovy, never shall I see thee! Ah, poor Pantagruel, thou hast lost thy good Mother, thy
sweet Nurse, thy well-beloved Lady! O false Death, how injurious and de|spightful hast thou
been to me? How mali|cious and outragious have I found thee, in taking her from me, my well-
beloved Wife, who should of right have been immortal?

With these words he did cry like a Cow, but on a sudden fell a laughing like a Calf, when
Pantagruel came into his Mind. Ha, my lit|tle Son (said he) my Childilolly, Fedlifondy,
Dandlichucky, my Ballocky, my pretty Rogue; O how jolly thou art, and how much am I bound
to my gracious God, that hath been pleased to bestow on me a Son so fair, so sprite|ful, so lively,
so smiling, so pleasant, and so gentle. Ho, ho, ho, ho, how glad I am? Let 24 us drink, ho, and
put away Melancholy; bring of the best, rinse the Glasses, lay the Cloth, drive out these Dogs,
blow this Fire, light Candles, shut that Door there, cut this Bread in sippets for Brewis, send
away these poor Folks, give them what they ask; hold my Gown, I will strip my self into my
Doublet, (én cuerpo) to make the Gossips merry, and keep them company.

As he spake this, he heard the Letanies and the Memento's of the Priests that carried his Wife to
be buried, which dash'd all his Merri|ment agen, and was suddenly ravished ano|ther way, saying,
Lord God, must I again contrist my self? this grieves me, I am no longer young, I grow old, the
Weather is dan|gerous, I am sick, I faint away; by the Faith of a Gentleman, it were better to cry
less, and drink more.

My Wife is dead, well, by G--- (da juran|di) I shall not raise her again by my crying: she is well,
she is in Paradise at least, if she be no higher: she prayeth to God for us, she is happy, she is
above the sense of our Miseries, nor can our Calamities reach her: What tho she be dead, must
not we also die? the same Debt which she hath paid, hangs over our Heads; Nature will require it
of us, and we must all of us some day taste of the same sauce: let her pass then, and the Lord
pre|serve the Survivors, for I must now cast about how to get another Wife. But I will tell you 25
what you shall do, said he to the Midwives, (where be they, good Folks, I cannot see them) go
you to my Wife's Interment, and I will the while rock my Son; for I find my self strangely
 178

altered, and in danger of falling sick: but drink one good Draught first, you will be the better for
it; believe me upon my Honour. They at his requst went to her Bu|rial and Funeral Obsequies; in
the mean while, poor Gargantua staying at home, and willing to have somewhat in
Remembrance of her to be engraven upon her Tomb, made this Epitaph in the manner as
followeth.

Dead is the noble Badebec,

Who had a Face like a Rebeck;
A Spanish Body and a Belly
Of Swisserland; she dy'd, I tell ye,
In Child-birth; pray to God that her
He pardon wherein she did err.
Here lies her Body, which did live
Free from all Vice, as I believe;
And did decease at my Bed-side,
The Year and Day in which she dy'd.

26

CHAP. IV. Of the Infancy of Pantagruel.

I Find by the Ancient Historiographers and Poets, that divers have been born in this World after
very strange manners, which would be too long to repeat; read therefore the seventh Chapter of
Pliny, if you have so much leisure; yet have you never heard of any so won|derful as that of
Pantagruel; for it is a very difficult matter to believe, how in the little time he was in his
Mother's Belly, he grew both in Body and Strength. That which Her|cules did was nothing, when
in his Cradle he slew two Serpents; for those Serpents were but little and weak: but Pantagruel
being ye[...] in his Cradle, did far more admirable things, and more to be amazed at. I pass by
here the Relation of how at every one of his Meals he supped up the Milk of four thousand and
six hundred Cows; and how to make him a Skellet to boil his Milk in, there were set a|work all
the Brasiers of Somure in Anjoy, of Villedieu in Normandy, and of Bramont in Lorrain: and they
served in this Whitepot-meat to him in a huge great Bell, which is yet to be seen in the City of
Bourge in Berry, near the Palace: but his Teeth were already so well grown, and so strengthned
in Vigor, that of 27 the said Bell he bit off a great Morsel, as very plainly doth appear till this
hour.

One Day in the Morning when they would have made him suck one of his Cows (for he never
had any other Nurse, as the History tells us) he got one of his Arms loose from the swadling
Bands, wherewith he was kept fast in the Cradle, laid hold on the said Cow un|der the left fore-
Ham, and grasping her to him, ate up her Udder and half her Paunch, with the Liver and the
Kidnies, and had de|voured all up if she had not cried out most hor|ribly, as if the Wolves had
held her by the Legs: at which Noise Company came in and took away the said Cow from
Pantagruel; yet could they not so well do it, but that the Quarter whereby he caught her was left
 179

in his Hand, of which Quarter he gulp'd up the Flesh in a trice, even with as much ease as you
would eat a Sassage; and that so greedily with desire of more, that when they would have taken
away the Bone from him, he swallowed it down whole, as a Cormorant would do a little Fish;
and afterwards began fumblingly to say, Good, good, good, for he could not yet speak plain,
giving them to un|derstand thereby, that he had found it very good, and that he did lack but so
much more; which when they saw that attended him, they bound him with great Cable-Ropes,
like those that are made at Tain for the Car|riage of Salt to Lyons; or such as those are 28
whereby the great French Ship rides at An|chor in the Road of New-haven in Normandy. But on
a certain time, a great Bear which his Father had bred, got loose, came towards him, began to
lick his Face, for his Nurses had not throughly wiped his Chaps; at which un|expected approach,
being on a sudden offen|ded, he as lightly rid himself of those great Cables, as Samson did of the
Hauser Ropes wherewith the Philistines had tied him, and by your leave, takes up Monsieur the
Bear, and tears him to you in pieces like a Pullet, which served him for a Gorge-full, or good
warm Bit for that Meal.

Whereupon Gargantua fearing lest the Child should hurt himself, caused four great Chains of
Iron to be made to bind him, and so many strong Wooden Arches unto his Cra|dle, most firmly
stocked and mortaised in huge Frames: Of those Chains you have one at Rochel, which they
drew up at Night betwixt the two great Towers of the Haven. Ano|ther is at Lyons; a third at
Angiers; and the fourth was carried way by the Devils to bind Lucifer, who broke his Chains in
those days, by reason of a Cholick that did extraordina|rily torment him, taken with eating a
Ser|jeant's Soul en Fricasseé, for his Breakfast: And therefore you may believe that which
Nicolas de Lyra saith upon that place of the Psalter, where it is written, Et Og Regem Basan; that
the said Og being yet little, was 29 so strong and robustious, that they were fain to bind him with
Chains of Iron in his Cra|dle. Thus continued Pantagruel for a while very calm and quiet, for he
was not able so easily to break those Chains, especially having no room in the Cradle to give a
swing with his Arms. But see what happened; Once upon a great Holiday, that his Father
Gargantua made a sumptuous Banquet to all the Princes of his Court: I am apt to believe, that
the Menial Officers of the House were so imbusied in waiting each on his proper Service at the
Feast, that no body took care of poor Panta|gruel, who was left a reculorum, behind-hand all
alone, and as forsaken. What did he? Heark what he did, good People; he strove and essayed to
break the Chains of the Cradle with his Arms, but could not, for they were too strong for him;
then did he keep with his Feet such a stamping Stir, and so long, that at last he beat out the lower
end of his Cradle, which notwithstanding was made of a great Post five Foot in square; and as
soon as he had gotten out his Feet, he slid down as well as he could, till he had got his Soles to
the Ground; and then with a mighty force he rose up, carrying his Cradle upon his Back, bound
to him like a Tortoise that crawls up against a Wall; and to have seen him, you would have
thought it had been a great Carrick of five hundred Tun upon one end. In this man|ner he entred
into the great Hall, where they 30 were banqueting, and that very boldly, which did much afright
the Company; yet because his Arms were tied in, he could not reach any thing to eat, but with
great Pain stopped now and then a little, to take with the whole flat of his Tongue some Lick,
good Bit or Morsel.

Which when his Father saw, he knew well enough that they had left him without giving him any
thing to eat, and therefore command|ed that he should be loosed from the said Chains, by the
Counsel of the Princes and Lords there present: Besides that, also the Physicians of Gargantua
 180

said, that if they did thus keep him in the Cradle, he would be all his Life-time subject to the
Stone. When he was unchain'd, they made him to sit down, where after he had fed very well, he
took his Cradle and broke it into more than five hun|dred thousand pieces with one Blow of his
Fist that he struck in the midst of it, swearing that he would never come into it again.

CHAP. V. Of the Acts of the noble Pantagruel in his youthful Age.

THus grew Pantagruel from day to day, and to every ones Eye waxed more and more in all his
Dimensions, which made his 31 Father to rejoice by a natural Affection; therefore caused he to
be made for him, whilst he was yet little, a pretty Cross-bow, where|with to shoot at small Birds,
which now they call the great Cross-bow at Chantelle. Then he sent him to the School to learn,
and to spend his Youth in Vertue: in the Prose|cution of which Design he came first to Poictiers,
where, as he studied and profited very much, he saw that the Scholars were oftentimes idle, and
knew not how to bestow their Time, which moved him to take such Compassion on them, that
one day he took from a long Ledg of Rocks (called there Passelourdin) a huge great Stone, of
about twelve Fathom square, and fourteen Handfuls thick, and with great Ease set it upon four
Pillars in the midst of a Field to no other end, but that the said Scholars when they had nothing
else to do, might pass their time in getting up on that Stone, and feast it with store of Gammons,
Pasties and Flaggons, and carve their Names upon it with a Knife; in token of which Deed, till
this hour the Stone is called the lifted Stone: and in remembrance hereof there is none entered
into the Register and Matricular Book of the said University, or accounted capable of taking any
Degree therein, till he have first drunk in the Caballine Fountain of Croustelles, passed at
Passelourdin, and got up upon the lifted Stone.

32 Afterwards reading the delectable Chroni|cles of his Ancestors, he found that Iafrey of
Lusinian, called Iafrey with the great Tooth, Grandfather to the Cousin-in-Law of the el|dest
Sister of the Aunt of the Son-in-Law of the Unkle of the good Daughter of his Step-mother, was
interred at Maillezais; therefore he took a Play-day to pay his Respects to him in a Visit; and
going from Poictiers with some of his Companions, they passed by the Guge, visiting the noble
Abbot Ardillon: then by Lusinian, by Sansay, by Celles, by Coalonges, by Fontenay the Conte,
saluting the learned Tiraquean, and from thence arrived at Mail|lezais, where he went to see the
Sepulchre of the said Iafrey with the great Tooth, which made him somewhat afraid, looking
upon the Portraiture, representing a Man in an extream Fury, drawing his great Malchus
Faulchion half way out of his Scabbard. When the reason hereof was demanded, the Chanons of
the said Place told him that there was no o|ther cause of it, but that Pictoribus atque Poetis, &c.
that is to say, that Painters and Poets have liberty to paint and devise what they list after their
own Fancy: but he was not satisfied with their Answer, and said, He is not thus painted without a
cause; and I suspect that at his Death there was some Wrong done him, whereof he requireth his
Kindred to take Revenge; I will enquire further into it, and then do what shall be reasonable: then
33 he returned not to Poictiers, but would take a view of the other Universities of France;
therefore going to Rochel, he took Shipping and arrived at Bourdeaux, where he found no great
Diversion, only now and then he would see some Mariners and Lightermen a wrestling on the
Key or Strand by the River side. From thence he came to Tholouse, where he learned to dance
 181

very well, and to play with the two-handed Sword, as the fashion of the Scholars of the said
University is. But he staid not long there, when he saw that they did cause burn their Regents
alive, like Red-herring, saying, Now God forbid that I should die this Death, for I am by Nature
sufficienly dry al|ready, without being heated any further.

He went then to Monpellier, where he met with the good Wives of Mirevaux, and good jovial
Company withal, and thought to have set himself to the study of Physick; but he considered that
that Calling was too troublesome and melancholy, and that Phy|sicians did smell of Glisters like
old Devils: therefore he resolved he would study the Laws; but seeing that there were but three
scauld, and one bald-pated Legist in that place, he departed from thence, and in his way made the
Bridg of Gard, and the Amphitheater of Neems in less than three hours, which never|theless
seems to be more than mortal Man could do. After that he came to Avignon, where he was not
above three days before he fell in 34 love; for the Women there take great delight in playing at
the close Buttock-Game, because it is Papal Ground; which his Tutor Episte|mon perceiving, he
drew him out of that place and brought him to Valence in the Dauphinee, where he saw no great
matter of Recreation, only that the Lubbards of the Town did beat the Scholars; which so
incen|sed him with Anger, that when upon a certain very fair Sunday, the People being at their
publick dancing in the Streets, and one of the Scholars offering to put himself into the Ring, the
Bumkins would not let him: whereupon Pantagruel taking the Scholar's part, so be|laboured
them with Blows, and laid such load upon them that he drove them all before him, even to the
Brink of the River Rhosne, and would have there drowned them, but that they did squat to the
Ground, and there lay close a full half League under the River. The Hole is to be seen there yet.

After that he departed from thence, and in three Strides and one Leap came to Angiers, where he
found himself very well, and would have continued there some space, but that the Plague drove
them away. So from thence he came to Bourges, where he studied a good long time, and profited
very much in the Fa|culty of the Laws; and would sometimes say, that Law-Books were like a
wonder|ful rich Cloth of Gold, edg'd with Fur; for in the World are no goodlier Books to be 35
seen, more ornate, nor more eloquent than the Texts of the Pandects; but the bordering of them,
that is to say, the Gloss of Accur|sius, is so vile, mean and scandalous, that it is nothing but Dirt
and Excrement.

Going from Bourges, he came to Orleans, where he found store of sparkish Scholars that made
him great Entertainment at his coming, and with whom he learned to play at Tennis so well, that
he was a Master at that Game: for the Students there are excellent at it. And sometimes they
carried him unto Cupid's Gardens, there to recreate his Person at the Poussevant, or In and In. As
for breaking his Head with over-much study, he had an especial care not to do it in any case for
fear of spoiling his Eyes; which he the rather ob|served, for that one of the Regents there had
often in his Lectures maintain'd, that nothing could be so hurtful to the sight, as to have sore
Eyes. So one day, when a Scholar of his Acquaintance (who had of Learning not much more
than his Brethren, tho instead of that he could dance very well, and play at Tennis) was made a
Licentiate in Law, he blazon'd the Licentiates of that University in this manner.

In his Hand is always a Racket,

 182

Or else is his Hand in a Placket:

In a Dance he neatly can trip it;
And for Law, it is all in his Tippet.

36

CHAP. VI. How Pantagruel met with a Limousin, who affected to speak in learned Phrase.

UPon a certain day, I know not when, Pantagruel walking after Supper with some of his Fellow-
Students, without that Gate of the City through which we enter on the Rode to Paris, encounter'd
with a young spruce-like Scholar that was coming upon the same very way; and after they had
saluted one another, asked him thus, My Friend, from whence comest thou now? The Scholar
an|swered him, From the Alme, inclyte and celebrate Academy, which is vocitated Lu|tetia. What
is the meaning of this (said Pan|tagruel) to one of his Men? It is (answered he) from Paris. Thou
comest from Paris then (said Pantagruel) and how do you spend your time there, you my
Masters the Students of Paris? The Scholar answered, We trans|fretate the Sequan at the Dilucul
and Cre|puscul; we deambulate by the Compites and Quadrives of the Vrb; we despumate the
La|tial Verbocination; and like verisimularie a|morabons; we captat the Benevolence of the
Omnijugal, Omniform, and Omnigenal Foemi|nine Sex; upon certain Diecules we invisat the
Lupanares, and in a venerian extase in|culcate 37 our Veretres, into the penitissime Re|cesses of
the Pudends of these amicabilissim me|retricules: then do we cauponisate in the me|ritory
Taberns of the Pineapple, the Castle, the Magdalene, and the Mule, goodly vervecine Spatules
perforaminated with Petrocile: and if by fortune there be Rarity, or penury of Pecune in our
Marsupies; and that they be exhausted of ferruginean Metal for the shot, we dimit our Codices,
and oppugnerat our Vestiments, whilst we prestolate the coming of the Tabel|laries from the
Penates, and patriotick Lares. To which Pantagruel answered, What devil|lish Language is this?
by the Lord, I think thou art some kind of Heretick. My Lord, No, said the Scholar; for
libentissimally assoon as it illucesceth any minutle slice of the Day; I demigrate into one of these
so well architected Minsters; and there irrorating my self with fair lustral Water, I mumble off
little parcels of some missick Precation of our Sacrificuls; and submurmurating my horary
Precules, I elevate and absterge my anime from its nocturnal In|quinations. I revere the
Olympicols: I latrially ve|nere the supernal Astripotent: I dilige and redame my Proxims: I
observe the decalogical Pre|cepts; and according to the facultatule of my Vires, I do not discede
from them one late Vn|guicule; nevertheless it is veriform, that be|cause Mammona doth not
supergurgitate any thing in my Loculs, that I am somewhat rare and lent to supererrogate the
Elemosynes 38 to those Egents, that hostially queritate their stipe.

Prut, tut, (said Pantagruel) what doth this Fool mean to say? I think he is upon the forging of
some diabolical Tongue, and that Inchanter-like he would charm us. To whom one of his Men
said, Without doubt (Sir) this Fellow would counterfeit the Language of the Parisians, but he
doth only flay the Latin, i|magining by so doing that he doth highly Pindarize it in most eloquent
Terms, and strongly conceiteth himself to be therefore a great Orator in the French, because he
disdain|eth the common manner of speaking. To which Pantagruel said, Is it true? The Scho|lar
answered, My worshipful Lord, my Genie is not apt nate to that which this flagitious Ne|bulon
saith, to excoriate the Tuticle of our ver|nacular Gallick, but viceversally I gnave opere, and by
 183

vele and rames enite to locupletate it, with the Latinicome redundance. By G--- (said Pantagruel)
I will teach you to speak: But first come hither, and tell me whence thou art? To this the Scholar
answered: The pri|meval Origin of my Aves and Ataves, was in|digenary of the Lemonick
Regions, where re|quiesceth the Corpor of the Hagiotat St. Mar|tial. I understand thee very well
(said Pan|tagruel) when all comes to all, thou art a Limousin, and thou wilt here by thy affected
Speech counterfeit the Parisians. Well now, come hither, I must shew thee a new Trick, 39 and
handsomly give thee the Combfeat. With this he took him by the Throat, saying to him, Thou
flayest the Latin; by St. Iohn I will make thee flay the Fox; for I will now flay thee a|live. Then
began the poor Limousin to cry; Haw, gwid Maaster, haw, Laord, my Halp, and St. Marshaw,
haw, I'm worried: haw, my Thropple, the Bean of me Cragg is bruck: haw, for Guaads seck, lawt
me lean, Mawster; waw, waw, waw. Now (said Pantagruel) thou speakest naturally, and so let
him go; for the poor Limousin had totally berayed, and through|ly conshit his Breeches, which
were not deep and large, but made à qu[...]üe de merlus. Then (said Pantagruel) St. Alipantiu,
what civette? Foh, foh, to the Devil with this Turnep-Eater. How he stinks? and so let him go.
But this Hug of Pantagruel's was such a Terror to him all the Days of his Life, and he had such a
Thirst upon him, that he would often cry out, that Pantagruel held him by the Throat. And af|ter
some few Years he died of the Death Ro|land, a Work of Divine Vengeance, shewing us that
which saith the Philosopher, and Aulus Gellius, that it becometh us to speak according to the
common Language; and that we should (as said Octavian Augustus) shun all strange Words, with
as much Care, as Pilots of Ships avoid the Rocks in the Sea.

40

CHAP. VII. How Pantagruel came to Paris, and of the choice Books of the Library of St.
Victor.

AFter that Pantagruel had studied very well at Orleans, he resolved to see the great University
of Paris; but before his De|parture, he was informed that there was a huge big Bell at St. Anian,
in the said Town of Orleans, under the Ground, which had been there above two hundred and
fourteen Years; for it was so great that they could not by any device get it so much as above the
Ground, although they used all the means that are found in Vitruvius de Architectura, Albertus de
re aedificatoria, Euclid, Theon, Archimedes, and Hero de ingeniis: for all that was to no purpose.
Wherefore condescending heartily to the humble Request of the Citizens and In|habitants of the
said Town, he determined to remove it to the Tower that was erected for it. With that he came to
the Place where it was, and lifted it out of the Ground with his little Finger, as easily as you
would have done a Hawk's Bell: But before he would car|ry it to the foresaid Tower, he would
needs make some Musick with it about the Town, and ring it alongst all the Streets, as he carried
it in his Hand; wherewith all the People were 41 very glad: but there happened one great
In|conveniency; for with carrying it so, and ringing it about the Streets, all the good Or|leans
Wine turned instantly, and was spoiled; which no Body there did perceive till the Night
following: for every Man found himself so a dry with drinking these flat Wines, that they did
nothing but spit, and that as white as Mal|tha Cotton, saying, We have got the Panta|gruel, and
our very Throats are salted.
 184

This done, he came to Paris with his Re|tinue, and at his entry every one came out to see him, (as
you know well enough, that the People of Paris are Sots by Nature, by B flat, and B sharp) and
beheld him with great Astonishment, mixed with no less Fear, that he would carry away the
Palace into some o|ther Country à remotis, as his Father formerly had done the great Bells at our
Ladies Church, to tie about his Mare's Neck. Now after he had stayed there a pretty space, and
studied very well in all the seven Liberal Arts, he said it was a good Town to live in, but not to
die there; for that the Grave-digging Rogues of St. Innocent, used in frosty Nights to warm their
Bums with dead Mens Bones. In his a|bode there, he found the Library of St. Victor, very
magnificent, especially in some Books which were there, of which followeth the Ca|talogue: Et
primò,

42

 The for Godsake of Salvation.

 The Cod-piece of the Law.
 The Slip-shoe of the Decretals.
 The Pomegranate of Vice.
 The Clew-bottom of Theology.
 The Duster or Foxtail-flap of Preachers, Com|posed by Turlupin.
 The churning Ballock of the Valiant.
 The Henbane of the Bishops.
 Marmoretus de baboonis & apis, cum Commen|to Dorbellis.
 Decretum Vniversitatis Parisiensis super gorgia|sitate muliercularum ad placitum.
 The Apparition of Sancte Geltrud, to a Nun of Poissie, being in travel, at the bringing
forth of a Child.
 Ars honestè fartandi in societate, per Marcum Corvinum.
 The Mustard-pot of Penance.
 The Gamashes, aliàs the Boots of Patience.
 Formicarium Artium.
 De brodiorum usu, & honestate Chopinandi, per Sylvestrem prioratem Jacobinum.
 The Coosened, or Gulled in Court.
 The Frail of the Scriveners.
 The Marriage-packet.
 The Cruzie, or Crucible of Contemplation.
 The Flimflams of the Law.
 The Prickle of Wine.
 The Spurre of Cheese.
 Ruboffatorium scolarium.
 43 Tartaretus de modo cacandi.
 The Bravades of Rome.
 Bricot de differentiis souparum.
 The Tail-piece Cushion, or Close-Breech of Discipline.
 The cobbled Shoe of Humility.
 The Trevet of good Thoughts.
 The Kettle of Magnanimity·
 The cavilling Intanglements of Confessors.
 185

 The Knachfare of the Curates.

 Reverendi patris fratris Lubini provincialis Ba|vardia, de croquendis, lardonibus libri
tres.
 Pasquilli doctoris marmorei de capreolis cum chardoneta comedendis tempore Papali ab
Ec|clesia interdicto.
 The Invention of the Holy Cross, personated by six wilie Priests.
 The Spectacles of Pilgrims bound for Rome.
 Majoris de modo faciendi Puddinos.
 The Bag-pipe of the Prelates.
 Beda de optimitate triparum.
 The Complaint of the Barresters upon the Re|formation of Confites.
 The furred Cat of the Solicitors and Attor|neys.
 Of Pease and Bacon cum Commento.
 The small Vales, or drinking Money of the In|dulgences.
 Praeclarissimi juris utriusque Doctoris Maistre pilloti, &c.
 Raque denari de bobelinandis glassaccursianae Triflis repetitio enucidiluculissima.
 44 Stratagemata francharchaeri de Baniolet.
 Carlbumpkinus de re militari, cum figuris Te|voti.
 De usu & utilitate flayandi equos & equas, au|thore Magistro nostro de quebecu.
 The Sawciness of Country-Stuarts.
 M. N. Rostocostojan Bedanesse de mustarda post prandium servienda, libri quatuor
decim apostillati, per M. Vaurillonis.
 The Covillage or Ballock-Money of Promoo|ters.
 Quaestio subtilissima, utrum Chimaera in vacuo bombistans posset comedere secundas
intentio|nes, & fuit debatuta per decem hebdomadas in Consilio Constantiensi.
 The Bridle-champer of the Advocates.
 Smutchudlamenta Scoti.
 The Rasping and hard Scraping of the Cardi|nals. De calcaribus removendis Decades
un|decim, per M. Albericum de rosata.
 Ejusdem de castramentandis criminibus, libri tres.
 The entrance of Antonie de leve into the Terri|tories of Brasil.
 Marforii Bacalarii cubantis Roma, de peelandis aut unskinnandis blurrandisque
Cardinalium mulis.
 The said Author's Apology against those who alledg that the Popes Mule doth eat but à
ses Hours.
 Prognosticatio quae incipit Silvitrique-billobalata, per M. N. Longecrusion.
 45 Bondarini Episcopi de emulgentiarum profecti|bus Aeneades novem, cum privilegio
Papali ad triennium & postea non.
 The Shitabranna of the Maids.
 The bald Arse of the Widows.
 The Cowle or Capouch of the Monks.
 The mumbling Brimborions of the Coelestine Friars.
 The Passage-toll of Beggarliness.
 The Teeth-chatter or Gum-didder of lubberly Lusks.
 The Paring-shovel of the Theologues.
 The Drench-horn of the Masters of Arts.
 186

 The Scullians of Oleam the uninitiated Clerk.

 Magistri N. Fripe saucetis de grabellationibus horarum canonicarum libri quadriginta.
Cul|le butatorium confratriarum, incerto authore.
 The Rasher of Cormorants.
 The Rammishness of the Spaniards, supergi|vure-gondigaded by Friar Indigo.
 The Muttring of pitiful Wretches.
 Paltronismus rerum Italicarum, authore Magi|stro Burnegad.
 R. Lullius de batisfolagiis Principum.
 Calibistratorium caffardiae, authore M. Jacobo Hocstraten hereticometrâ.
 Codtickler de magistro nostrandorum magistro nostratorúmque beneventi librî octo
galan|tissimi.
 The Crackarades of Bullists, Copists, Scrive|ners, Clerks, Abbreviators, Notaries and
Reporters, lately compiled by Regis.
 46 A perpetual Almanack for those that have the Gout and the Pox.
 Manera sweepandi fornacellos, per Mag. Ec|ciam.
 The Shable or Cimeterre of Merchants.
 The Pleasures of the Monachal Life.
 The Hotch-pot of Hypocrites.
 The History of the Hobgoblins.
 The ragamuffianisme of the pensionary maim|ed Souldiers.
 The gulling Fibs of Commissaries.
 The Litter of Treasurers.
 The Iuglingatorium of Sophisters.
 Antipericata metanaparbeuged amphisistationes Merdicantium.
 The Periwinkle of Ballad-makers.
 The Push-forward of the Alchimists.
 The Niddy Noddy of the Sachel-loaded Seek|ers, by Friar Bindfastatis.
 The Shackles of Religion.
 The Racket of Swag-waggers.
 The Leaning-stock of old Age.
 The muzzle of Nobility.
 The Apes pater noster.
 The Crickets and Hawks-Bells of Devotion.
 The Pot of the Ember-weeks.
 The Mortar of the politick Life.
 The Flap of the Hermites.
 The Riding-hood of the Penitentiaries.
 The Trictrac of the knocking Friars.
 Blockheadodus de vita & honestate bragado|chiorum.
 47 Lyrippii Sorbonici moralisationes, per M. Lu|poldum.
 The Carrier-horse-Bells of Travellers.
 The Bibbings of the tipling Bishops.
 Terrabilitiones Doctorum Coloniensium ad ver|sus Reuclin.
 The Cymbals of Ladies.
 The Dungers martingale.
 Whirlingfriskorum Chasemarkerorum, per fra|trem Crackwoodloguetis.
 187

 The clouted Patches of a stout Heart.

 The Mummery of the Robin-good-fellows.
 Gerson de auferibilitate Papae ab Ecclesia.
 The Catalogue of the nominated and gradua|ted Persons.
 Jo. Dyrebrodii de terribilitate excommunicatio|nis libellus acephalos.
 Ingeniositas invocandi diabolos & diabolas, per M. Guingolphum.
 The Gallimafree of the perpetually begging Friars.
 The Morris-dance of the Hereticks.
 The Whinings of Cajetan.
 Muddisnowt Doctoris cherubici de origine rough|footedarum & wryneckedorum ritibus,
libri septem.
 Sixty nine fat Breviaries.
 The Night-Mare of the five Orders of Beg|gars.
 The Skinnery of the new Start-ups extracted out of the fallow Butt, incornifistibulated
upon in the Summa Angelica.
 48 The Raver in Cases of Conscience.
 The fat Belly of the Presidents.
 The baffling Flowter of the Abbots.
 Sutoris adversus eum qui vocaver at eum frippo|natorem, & quod fripponatores non sunt
dam|nati ab Ecclesia.
 Cacatorium medicorum.
 The Chimney-sweeper of Astrology.
 Campi clysteriorum per paragraph. C.
 The Bumsquibcracker of Apothecaries.
 The Kiss-breech of Chirurgery.
 Justitianus de whiteleperotis tollendis.
 Antidotarium animae.
 Merlinus Coccaius de patria diabolorum.

Of which Library some Books are already printed, and the rest are now at the Press, in this noble
City of Tubinge.

CHAP. VIII. How Pantagruel being at Paris, received Let|ters from his Father Gargantua,
and the Copy of them.

PAntagruel studied very hard, as you may well conceive, and profited accordingly; for he had an
excellent Understanding and notable Wit, together with a Capacity in Me|mory, equal to the
measure of twelve Oil-Budgets, or Buts of Olives. And as he was 49 there abiding one Day, he
received a Letter from his Father in manner as followeth.

Most dear Son,

 188

Amongst the Gifts, Graces and Preroga|tives with which the Soveraign Plasmator God Almighty
hath endowed and adorned Human Nature at the beginning, that seems to me most singular and
excellent, by which we may in a mortal Estate attain to a kind of Immortality, and in the Course
of this tran|sitory Life perpetuate our Name and Seed; which is done by a Progeny issued from us
in the lawful Bonds of Matrimony: whereby that, in some measure, is restored unto us, which
was taken from us by the Sin of our first Parents; to whom it was said, that be|cause they had not
obeyed the Command|ment of God their Creator, they should die, and by Death should be
brought to nought that so stately Frame and Plasmature, where|in the Man at first had been
created.

But by this means of seminal Propagation, which continueth in the Children what was lost in the
Parents, and in the Grand-chil|dren that which perished in their Fathers, and so successively until
the Day of the last Judg|ment, when Iesus Christ shall have rendred up to God the Father his
Kingdom in a peaceable Condition, out of all Danger and Contamination of Sin: for then shall
cease all Generations and Corruptions, and the Ele|ments 50 leave off their continual
Transmutati|ons; seeing the so much desired Peace shall be attained unto and enjoyed, and that
all things shall be brought to their End and Pe|riod. And therefore not without just and
rea|sonable cause do I give thanks to God my Saviour and Preserver, for that he hath in|abled me
to see my bald old Age reflourish in thy Youth: for when at his good Pleasure, who rules and
governs all things, my Soul shall leave this mortal Habitation; I shall not account my self wholly
to die, but to pass from one place unto another: Consi|dering that in and by that, I continue in my
visible Image living in the World, visiting and conversing with People of Honour, and other my
good Friends, as I was wont to do. Which Conversation of mine, although it was not without Sin,
(because we are all of us Trespassers, and therefore ought continually to beseech his Divine
Majesty, to blot our Transgressions out of his Memory) yet was it by the Help and Grace of God,
without all manner of reproach before Men.

Wherefore if those Qualities of the Mind but shine in thee, wherewith I am endowed, as in thee
remaineth the perfect Image of my Body, thou wilt be esteemed by all Men to be the perfect
Guardian and Treasure of the Im|mortality of our Name: but if otherwise, I shall truly take but
small pleasure to see it, considering that the lesser part of me, which 51 is the Body, would abide
in thee: and the best, to wit, that which is the Soul, and by which our Name continues blessed
amongst Men, would be degenerate and abastardized. This I do not speak out of any distrust that
I have of thy Vertue, which I have heretofore already tried, but to encourage thee yet more
earnestly to proceed from good to better. And that which I now write unto thee, is not so much
that thou shouldest live in this ver|tuous Course, as that thou shouldest rejoice in so living and
having lived, and cheer up thy self with the like Resolution in time to come. To the Prosecution
and Accomplish|ment of which Enterprise and generous Un|dertaking, thou mayest easily
remember how that I have spared nothing, but have so help|ed thee, as if I had had no other
Treasure in this World, but to see thee once in my Life compleatly well bred and accomplished,
as well in Vertue, Honesty and Valour, as in all liberal Knowledg and Civility: and so to leave
thee after my Death, as a Mirror, re|presenting the Person of me thy Father; and if not so
excellent, and such indeed as I do wish thee, yet such in Desire.
 189

But although my deceased Father, of happy Memory, Grangousier, had bent his best
Endea|vours to make me profit in all Perfection and Political Knowledg, and that my Labour and
Study was fully correspondent to, yea, went beyond his Desire; nevertheless, as 52 thou mayest
well understand, the time then was not so proper and fit for Learning as it is at present, neither
had I plenty of such good Masters as thou hast had: for that time was darksom, obscured with
Clouds of Ignorance, and savouring a little of the Infelicity and Ca|lamity of the Gothes, who
had, where-ever they set footing, destroyed all good Literature, which in my Age hath by the
Divine Good|ness been restored unto its former Light and Dignity, and that with such
Amend|ment and Increase of Knowledg, that now hardly should I be admitted unto the first Form
of the little Grammar School-Boys: I say, I, who in my youthful days was (and that justly)
reputed the most Learned of that Age. Which I do not speak in vain-boasting, although I might
lawfully do it in writing unto thee, by the Authority of Marcus Tul|lius, in his Book of Old Age,
and the Sen|tence of Plutarch, in the Book, intituled, How a Man may praise himself without
Envy: but to give thee an emulous Encouragement to strive yet further.

Now is it that the Minds of Men are qua|lified with all manner of Discipline, and the old Sciences
revived, which for many Ages were extinct: Now it is that the learned Lan|guages are to their
pristine Purity restored· viz. Greek, (without which a Man may be ashamed to account himself a
Scholar) He|brew, Arabick, Chaldaean and Latin. Pri[...]|ing 53 likewise is now in use, so
elegant, and so correct, that better cannot be imagined, al|though it was found out but in my time
by Divine Inspiration; as by a Diabolical Sug|gestion, on the other side, was the Invention of
Ordnance. All the World is full of knowing Men, of most learned School-masters, and vast
Libraries: and it appears to me as a Truth, that neither in Plato's time, nor Cicero's, nor
Papinian's, there was ever such conveniency for Studying, as we see at this Day there is· Nor
must any adventure henceforward to come in publick, or represent himself in Com|pany, that
hath not been pretty well polished in the Shop of Minerva. I see Robbers, Hang|men, Free-
booters, Tapsters, Ostlers, and such like, of the very Rubbish of the People, more learned now,
than the Doctors and Preachers were in my time.

What shall I say? The very Women and Children have aspired to this Praise and Cele|stial
Manna of good Learning: Yet so it is, that in the Age I am now of, I have been con|strained to
learn the Greek Tongue, which I contemned not like Cato, but had not the Lea|sure in my
younger Years to attend the Stu|dy of it. And I take much delight in the read|ing of Plutarch's
Morals, the pleasant Dia|logues of Plato, the Monuments of Pau|sanias, and the Antiquities of
Athenaeus, whilst I wait the Hour wherein God my Cre|ator shall call me, and command me to
depart 54 from this Earth and transitory Pilgrimage. Wherefore (my Son) I admonish thee, to
imploy thy Youth to profit as well as thou canst, both in thy Studies and in Vertue. Thou art at
Paris, where the laudable Ex|amples of many brave Men may stir up thy Mind to gallant
Actions; and hast like|wise for thy Tutor the Learned Epistemon, who by his lively and vocal
Documents may in|struct thee in the Arts and Sciences.

I intend, and will have it so, that thou learn the Languages perfectly. First of all, the Greek, as
 190

Quintilian will have it. Secondly, the Latin; and then the Hebrew, for the Holy Scripture-sake.
And then the Chaldee and A|rabick likewise. And that thou frame thy stile in Greek in imitation
of Plato; and for the Latin, after Cicero. Let there be no History which thou shalt not have ready
in thy Memory; and to help thee therein, the Books of Cosmography will be very conducible. Of
the liberal Arts of Geometry, Arithmetick and Musick, I gave thee some taste when thou wert yet
little, and not above five or six Years old; proceed further in them, and learn the Remainder if
thou canst. As for Astronomy, study all the Rules thereof; let pass nevertheless the divining and
judicial Astrology, and the Art of Lullius, as being nothing else but plain Cheat and Vanities. As
for the Civil Law, of that I would have thee to know the Texts by heart, and then to confer them
with Philosphy.

55
Now in matter of the Knowledg of the Works of Nature, I would have thee to stu|dy that exactly;
and that so there be no Sea, River or Fountain, of which thou dost not know the Fishes; all the
Fowls of the Air, all the several kinds of Shrubs and Trees, whe|ther in Forests or Orchards: All
the Sorts of Herbs and Flowers that grow upon the Ground: all the various Metals that are hid
within the bowels of the Earth: together with all the diversity of precious Stones, that are to be
seen in the Orient and South-parts of the World; let nothing of all these be hidden from thee.
Then fail not most carefully to peruse the Books of the Greek, Arabian and Latin Physicians; not
despising the Talmu|dists and Cabalists; and by frequent Ana|tomies get thee the perfect
Knowledg of the Microcosm, which is Man. And at some Hours of the Day, apply thy Mind to
the Study of the Holy Scriptures: first in Greek, the New-Testament with the Epistles of the
Apostles; and then the Old-Testament in Hebrew. In brief, Let me see thee an Abyss, and
bot|tomless-Pit of Knowledg: for from hence|forward, as thou growest great and becomest a
Man, thou must part from this Tranquillity and Rest of Study: thou must learn Chival|ry,
Warfare, and the Exercises of the Field, the better thereby to defend my House and our Friends,
and to succour and protect them at all their Needs against the Invasion and As|saults of Evil-
doers.

56
Furthermore, I will that very shortly thou try how much thou hast profited, which thou canst not
better do than by maintaining pub|lickly Theses and Conclusions in all Arts, a|gainst all Persons
whatsoever, and by haun|ting the Company of learned Men, both at Pa|ris and otherwhere. But
because, as the wise Man Solomon saith, Wisdom entreth not into a malicious Mind; and that
Science without Conscience is but the Ruin of the Soul, it behoveth thee to serve, to love, to fear
God, and on him to cast all thy Thoughts and all thy Hope, and by Faith formed in Charity, to
cleave unto him, so that thou mayest ne|ver be separated from him by thy Sins. Su|spect the
Abuses of the World: set not thy Heart upon Vanity; for this Life is transitory, but the Word of
the Lord endureth for ever. Be serviceable to all thy Neighbours, and love them as thy self:
reverence thy Praeceptors; shun the Conversation of those whom thou de|sirest not to resemble,
and receive not in vain the Graces which God hath bestowed upon thee. And when thou shalt see
that thou hast attained to all the Knowledg that is to be acquired in that part, return unto me, that
I may see thee, and give thee my Blessing before I die. My Son, the Peace and Grace of our Lord
be with thee.
Amen.
 191

From Vtopia the 17th Day of the Month of March.

Thy Father Gargantua.

57 These Letters being received and read, Pan|tagruel pluck'd up his Heart, took a fresh
Cou|rage to him, and was inflamed with a Desire to profit in his Studies more than ever: so that if
you had seen him, how he took Pains, and how he advanced in Learning, you would have said
that the Vivacity of his Spirit amidst the Books, was like a great Fire amongst dry Wood; so
active it was, vigorous and inde|fatigable.

CHAP. IX. How Pantagruel found Panurge, whom he lo|ved all his life-time.

ONe Day as Pantagruel was taking a Walk without the City, towards St. Anthony's Abby,
discoursing and philosophating with his own Servants and some other Scholars, met with a
young Man of a very comely Stature, and surpassing Handsom in all the Lineaments of his Body,
but in several parts thereof most pitifully wounded; in such bad Equipage in matter of his
Apparel, which was but Totters and Rags, and every way so far out of order, that he seemed to
have been a fighting with Mastiff-dogs, from whose Fury he had made an Escape; or to say
better, he looked, in the Condition wherein he then was, like an Apple-gatherer of the Country of
Perche.

58 As far off as Pantagruel saw him, he said to those that stood by, Do you see that Man there,
who is a coming hither upon the Road from Charanton-Bridg? by my Faith, he is only poor in
Fortune; for I may assure you, that by his Physiognomy it appeareth, that Na|ture hath extracted
him from some rich and noble Race, and that too much Curiosity hath thrown him upon
Adventures, which possibly have reduced him to this Indigence, Want and Penury. Now as he
was just amongst them, Pantagruel said unto him, Let me intreat you (Friend) that you may be
pleased to stop here a little, and answer me to that which I shall ask you, and I am confident you
will not think your Time ill bestowed: for I have an extream Desire (according to my Ability) to
give you some Supply in this Distress where|in I see you are; because I do very much
commiserate your case, which truly moves me to great pity: Therefore (my Friend) tell me, Who
you are? whence you come? whither you go? what you desire? and what your Name is? The
Companion answered him in the Dutch Tongue, thus;

Yunker gott geb euch gluck und heil; [...]urwa[...] liebor yunker, ich las euch wi[...]en das dar
mich wungraft, ist ein arm und erbamlich ding, und wer wol darvon Zusagen welches euch
verdrus|f[...]ich Zuceten, und mer zuerzelen wer, wiewol die Poeten und Oratores vortzeiten
habengesag[...] in item sprichen: und sentenzen das die gedeckt|nus 59 des ellendz und armut
vortangs erlitten, ist ein grosser lust. My Friend (said Pantagruel) I have no skill in that
Gibberish of yours; there|fore, if you would have us to understand you, speak to us in some other
Language: then did the Drole answer him thus.
 192

Albarildim gotfano dechmin brin alabo dor|dio falbroth ringuam albaras; nin porthzadi|kin
almucatin milko prin alelmin en thoth dal|heben enfuim: kuthim alidum alkaim nimbroth deehoth
porth min michais im endoch, pruch dal maisulum hol moth dansrihim lupaldas im vol|democh.
Nim hur diavoth mnarbotim dal gousch palfrapin duch imscoth pruch galeth dal chinon min
foulchrich al conin buthathen doth dal prim. Do you understand none of this, said Pantagruel to
the Company? I believe (said Epistemon) that this is the Language of the Antipodes, and such a
hard one that the Devil himself knows not what to make of it. Then, said Pantagruel, Gossip, I
know not if the Walls do comprehend the Meaning of your words, but none of us here doth so
much as understand one Syllable of them: Then said my Blade again,

Signor mio voi vedete per essempio che la cornemusa non suona mai, se non ha il ventre pi|eno:
cosi io parimente non vi so contrare le mie fortune, se prima il tribulato ventre non ha la folita
refectione: alquale è adviso che le mani e li denti abbi perso il loro ordine naturale, e del tutto
annichilati. To which Epistemon an|swered 60 as much of the one as of the other, and nothing of
either. Then said Panurge;

My Lord, if the Generosity of your Mind be sutable to your Body, you would naturally have pity
of me. For Nature made us equal· But Fortune has exalted some, and other|some has depressed.
Nevertheless, though Vertue is despised, and worthy Men depres|sed; yet till the end none can be
pronounced happy.
Yet less said Pantagruel: Then said my jolly Panurge;

Iona andie gaussa goussy etan beharda er re|medio beharde vel sela ysser landa. Aubar es o|toy
yes nausu ey nessassu gourray propposiam ordine den. Non yssena bayte facheria egabe gen
herassy badea sadassu noura assia: Aram hon davan gaulde cydassu nydassuna estou oussye
ecvinausou|ry hin er darstura eguy harm: Genicoa plasan va|du. Are you there (said Eudemon)
Genicoa? To this (said Carpalin), St. Trinian's Rammer unstitch your Bum, for I had almost
under|stood it. Then answered Panurge;

Prug frest frinst sorgdmand strochdi dthds pag breleland gravot chavygni pomardiere rusth
pkalldracg devinier a pras. Nays; beville bal|much monach drupp del meupplist rinc{que} drind
dodelp up drent loch mine stzincq jald de vins ders cordelis bur jocst stzampenards. Do you
speak Christian, (said Epistemon) or the Gyp|sey Language? Nay it is all Banter, said ano|ther.
Then said Panurge;

61 Her re je sprexe andeers gheen taele dan ker|sten taele my dunc nocoans, al en seg je met een
ubord, myven noot velaert glenouch bbat re beglere gheest my unyt bet mhet richeyt yet waer un
je ghevoet mach zunch: To which answered Pantagruel, as much of that. Then said Pa|nurge;

Sennor de tanto hablar yo soy cansado, porque supplico av[...]estra excellencia que mire alos
pre|cettos Evangelicos, para que ellos muevan vu|estra excellencia a lo que es de consciencia,
ysi|ellos no bastaren paramo ver vuesa excellencia apiedad, supplico qué mire a la piedad
natural, laqual yo creoque le mova, como es de razon, y concesso, no digo mas? Truly (my
Friend) I doubt not but you can speak divers Langua|ges; but tell us that which you would have
 193

us to do for you in some Tongue, which you conceive we may understand. Then said the
Companion;

Myn her, reendog ieg met ingen tunge talede; lyge som boeen, oeg usk wlig creatuer: mine clee
bon och my me legioms mager heb xv duy|fer alliguck lalig hwad tyng mog meest behoff riteres
somaer sandeligh mad och dryck: hwar for forbar me regom lyder offuer megoch besael
argyffua meg nogeth off haylketieg kad styre myne groeendes mach lygeruss son mand Cer|bero
en Souppesor setihr: soa schal fue loeffue le[...] ge ockyk salitgth. I think really (said Eust|henes)
that the Gothes spoke thus of old: and that, if it pleased God, we would all of us 62 speak so with
our Taile. Then again said Pa|nurge·

Adon seolom lechai in ischar harob hal heb|deca bimeheroh thithé li kikar lehem: chau|char
ublaah aldonaicho néral. To which an|swered Epistemon, At this time have I under|stood him
very well; for it is the Hebrew Tongue most Rhetorically pronounced. Then again said the
Gallant;

Eust[...] garnancei monon logusin hina pragma|ta (hem peri emphibetumen) me prophoros
epi|phe[...] e: What? (said Carpalim, Pantagruel's Foot-man) it is Greek, I have understood him:
and how? hast thou dwelt any while in Greece? Then said the Drole again;

Agonou d[...]nt oussys vous desdaignez algaron: nou denfaron zamist vous mariston ulbron,
fousquez voubrol tam bredaguez maupreton den goulhoust daguez daguez non croupys fost
bardonnoffist nougrou: agou paston tol nal|brol prissys hourtou los echatonous, prou
dehou|guys brol pany gouden bascrou noudous caguon[...] goutfrengoul oustato[...]ppassou?
Methinks I un|derstand him (said Pantagruel); for either it is the Language of my Country of
Vtopia, or sounds very like it. And as he was about to have begun some Argument, the
Companion said;

Iam toties vos per saera, p[...]rque deos de asque omnes obtestat[...] sum, ut si quae vos pietas
per|movet, egestatem meam sola[...]emini net hilu[...] proficio clamant & [...] : si nite, quaeso,
s[...]|ni[...]e, vi[...]i impii, qu[...] mo fa[...] a v[...] cant abite: nec 63 ultrà vanis vestris
interpellationibus obtunda|tis, memores veteris illius adagii, quo venter famelicus auriculis
carere dicitur. Well, my Friend, (said Pantagruel) but cannot you speak French? That I can do
(Sir) very well, (said the Companion) God be thanked: it is my Natural Language and Mother-
Tongue, for I was born and bred in my younger Years in the Garden of France, to wit, Tou|raine.
Then (said Pantagruel) tell us what is your Name, and from whence you are come; for by my
Faith, I have already stamped in my Mind such a deep Impression of Love to|wards you, that if
you will condescend unto my Will, you shall not depart out of my Com|pany, and you and I shall
make up another Couple of Friends, such as Aeneas and Achates were. Sir, (said the Companion)
my true and proper Christian Name is Panurge; and now I come out of Turky, to which Country
I was carried away Prisoner at that time, when they went to Metelin with a Mischief: And w[...]
l|lingly would I relate unto you my Fortunes, which are more wonderful than those of V|lysses
were; but seeing that it pleaseth you to retain me with you, I most heartily accept of the Offer,
protesting never to leave you, should you go to all the Devils in Hell. We shall have therefore
more Leisure at another time, and a fitter Opportunity wherein to re|port them; for at this present
I am in a very urgent necessity to feed, my Teeth are sharp, 64 my Belly empty, my Throat dry,
 194

and my Sto|mach fierce and burning; all is ready, if you will but set me to work: It will be as
good as a Balsamum for sore Eyes, to see me gulch and raven it; for God's sake give order for it.
Then Pantagruel commanded that they should carry him home, and provide him good store of
Victuals; which being done, he ate very well that Evening, and (Capon-like) went early to Bed,
then slept until Dinner-time the next Day; so that he made but three Steps and one Leap from the
Bed to the Board.

CHAP. X. How Pantagruel decided a Cause which was wonderfully intricate and obscure:
whereby he was reputed to have a most admirable Iudgment.

PAntagruel very well remembring his Fa|ther's Letter and Admonitions, would one Day make
trial of his Knowledg. Thereupon, in all the Carresours, Streets and Corners of the City, he set
up Conclusions to the number of nine thousand seven hundred sixty and four, in all manner of
Learning, touching in them the har|dest Doubts that are in any Science. And first of all, in the
Fodder-street he held dispute against all the Regents, Artists and Orators, and did so gallantly,
that he overthrew them, and set them 65 all upon their Tails. He went afterwards to the Sorbon,
where he maintained Argument against all the Theologians, for the space of six Weeks, from
four a Clock in the Morning until six in the Evening, except an Interval of two Hours to refresh
themselves, and take their Repast. And at this were present the greatest part of the Lords of the
Court, the Masters of Requests, Presidents, Counsellors, those of the Accompts, Secretaries,
Advocates and others: As also the Sheriffs of the said Town, with the Physicians and Professors
of the Canon-Law. Amongst which, it is to be remarked, that the greatest part were resty and
head-strong, and in their Opinions obstinate; but he took such course with them, that for all their
Ergoes and Falla|cies, he put their Backs to the Wall, gravelled them in the deepest Questions,
and made it vi|sibly appear to the World, that compared to him, they were but Monkies, and a
Knot of muffled Calves. Whereupon every Body be|gan to keep a bustling Noise, and talk of his
so marvellous Knowledg, through all degrees of Persons in both Sexes, even to the very
Laun|dresses, Brokers, Rostmeat-sellers, Penknife-makers and others; who, when he past along
in the Street, would say, This is he; in which he took delight, as Demosthenes, the Prince of
Greek Orators did, when a mumping old Hag, pointing at him with her Fingers, said, This is the
Man.

66 Now at this same very time there was a Suit in Law, depending in Court between two great
Lords, of which one was called my Lord Kissebreech, Plaintiff, of one side; and the other my
Lord Suckfist, Defendant, of the other; whose Controversy was so high and difficult in Law, that
the Court of Parliament could make nothing of it. And therefore by the Com|mandment of the
King, there were assembled four of the greatest, and most learned of all the Parliaments of
France, together with the great Councel, and all the principal Regents of the Universities, not
only of France, but of Eng|land also and Italy, such as Iason, Philippus-Decius, Petrus de
Petronibus, and a Rabble of other old Rabanists. Who being thus met together, after they had
thereupon consulted for the space of six and forty Weeks, finding that they could not fasten their
Teeth in it, nor with such clearness understand the Case, as that they might in any manner of way
be able to right it, or take up the Difference betwixt the two aforesaid Parties, it did so grievously
 195

vex them, that they most villanously conshit themselves for shame. In this great Extremity, one
amongst them named Du Douhait, the learnedst of all, and more expert and prudent than any of
the rest, whilst one Day they were thus at their Wits end, all-to-be-dunced and philogrobolized in
their Brains, said unto them; We have been here (my Masters) good long space without doing
any thing else, than trifle 67 away both Time and Money, and can ne|vertheless find neither Brim
nor Bottom in this Matter: for the more we study about it, the less we understand therein, which
is a great Shame and Disgrace to us, and a heavy Burthern to our Consciences; yea such, that in
my Opinion we shall not rid our selves of it without Dishonour, unless we take some other
course; for we do nothing but dote in our Consultations.

See therefore what I have thought upon: You have heard much talking of that worthy Personage
named Master Pantagruel, who hath been found to be learned above the Capacity of this present
Age, by the Proofs he gave in those great Disputations, which he held pub|lickly against all Men.
My Opinion is, that we send for him, to confer with him about this Business; for never any Man
will encompass the bringing of it to an end, if he do it not.

Hereunto all the Counsellors and Doctors willingly agreed, and according to that their Result,
having instantly sent for him, they in|treated him to be pleased to canvass the Pro|cess, and sift it
throughly; that after a deep Search and narrow Examination of all the Points thereof, he might
forthwith make the Report unto them, such as he shall think good in true and legal Knowledg. To
this effect they delivered into his Hands the Bags where|in were the Writs and Pancarts
concerning that Suit, which for Bulk and Weight were 68 almost enough to lade four great
stoned Asses. But Pantagruel said unto them, Are the two Lords, between whom this Debate and
Pro|cess is, yet living? it was answered him, Yes: To what a Devil then (said he) serve so many
paultry Heaps, and Bundles of Papers and Co|pies which you give me? Is it not better to hear
their Controversy from their own Mouths, whilst they are Face to Face before us, than to read
these vile Fopperies, which are nothing but Chicaneries, Deceits, diabolical Cozenages of
Cepola, pernicious Slights, and Subversions of Equity? For I am sure, that you, and all those
through whose Hands this Process hath past, have by your Devices added what you could to it
pro & contra; in such sort, that although their Difference perhaps was clear and easy enough to
determine at first, you have perplexed and puzzl'd the Cause, by the frivolous, sottish,
unreasonable, and foolish Reasons and Opini|ons of Accursius, Baldus, Bartolus, de Castro, de
Imola, Hippolytus, Panormo, Bertachin, A|lexander, Curtius, and those other old Ma|stiffs, who
never understood the least Law of the Pandects, they being but meer Block|heads and great
Tithe-calves, ignorant of all that which was needful for the understanding of the Laws. For (as it
is most certain) they had not the Knowledg either of the Greek or La|tin Tongue, but only of the
Gothick and Bar|barian. The Laws nevertheless were first taken from the Greeks, according to
the Testi|mony 69 of Vlpian. l. poster. de origine juris, which we likewise may perceive by that
all the Laws are full of Greek Words and Senten|ces. And then we find that they are reduced into
a Latin Stile, the most elegant and or|nate, that whole Language is able to afford, without
excepting that of any that ever wrote therein; nay, not of Salust, Varro, Cicero, Seneca, Titus
Livius, nor Quintilian. How then could these old Dotards be able to under|stand aright the Text of
the Laws, who never in their time had looked upon a good Latin Book, as doth evidently enough
appear by the Rudeness of their Stile; which is fitter for a Chimney-sweeper, a Cook or a
Scullion, than for a Iurisconsult and Doctor in the Laws?
 196

Furthermore; Seeing the Laws are excerp|ted out of the middle of Moral and Natural
Philosophy, how should these Fools have un|derstood it, that have by G--- studied less in
Philosophy than my Mule? in respect of Humane Learning, and the Knowledg of An|tiquities and
Histories, they were truly laden with those Faculties as a Toad is with Fea|thers: and yet of all
this the Laws are so full, that without it they cannot be under|stood; as I intend more fully to
shew unto you in a peculiar Treatise, which on that pur|pose I am about to publish. Therefore if
you will that I meddle in this Process; First, cause all these Papers to be burnt: Secondly, Make
the two Gentlemen come personally before 70 me; and afterwards, when I shall have heard them,
I will tell you my Opinion freely with|out any Fiction or Dissimulation whatsoever.

Some amongst them did contradict this Motion, as you know that in all Companies there are
more Fools than wise Men, and that the greater part always surmounts the bet|ter; as saith Titus
Livius, in speaking of the Carthaginians. But the foresaid Du Douhait held the contrary Opinion,
maintaining that Pantagruel had said well, and what was right, in affirming that these Records,
Bills of In|quest, Replies, Rejoinders, Exceptions, Depo|sitions, and other such Diableries of
Truth-intangling Writs, were but Engines where|with to overthrow Justice, and unnecessarily to
prolong such Suits as did depend before them; and that therefore the Devil would car|ry them all
away to Hell, if they did not take another Course, and proceeded not in times coming according
to the Prescripts of Evan|gelical and Philosophical Equity. In fine, all the Papers were burnt, and
the two Gentle|men summoned and personally convented. At whose Appearance before the
Court, Pan|tagruel said unto them, Are you they that have this great Difference betwixt you?
Yes, (my Lord) said they. Which of you (said Pantagruel) is the Plaintiff? It is I, said my Lord
Kissebreech. Go too then, my Friend, (said he) and relate your Matter unto me from Point to
Point, according to the real Truth, or 71 else (by Cocks Body) if I find you to lie so much as in
one word, I will make you shorter by the Head, and take it from off your Shoul|ders, to shew
others by your Example, that in Justice and Judgment Men ought to speak nothing but the Truth;
therefore take heed you do not add nor impair any thing in the Narration of your Case. Begin.

CHAP. XI. How the Lords of Kissebreech and Suckfist, did plead before Pantagruel without
Advocates.

THen began Kissebreech in manner as followeth: My Lord, it is true, that a good Woman of my
House carried Eggs to the Market to sell. Be covered Kissebreech, said Pantagruel. Thanks to
you, my Lord, said the Lord Kissebreech: But to the purpose, There passed betwixt the two
Tropicks, the Sum of three Pence towards the Zenith, and a half-penny; forasmuch as the
Riph[...]an Moun|tains had been that Year opprest with a great Sterility of counterfeit Gudgions,
and shews without Substance, by means of the babling Tattle, and fond Fibs, seditiously raised
be|tween the Gibblegablers, and Accursian Gib|berish-mongers, for the Rebellion of the
Swis|sers, who had assembled themselves to the full number of the Bum-bees, and Myrmidons,
72 to go a handsel-getting on the first Day of the new Year, at that very time when they give
Brewis to the Oxen, and deliver the Key of the Coals to the Country-girls, for serving in of the
Oats to the Dogs. All the Night long they did nothing else (keeping their Hands still upon the
Pot) but dispatch Bulls a-foot, and Bulls a-horseback, to stop the Boats: for the Tailors and Sales-
 197

men would have made of the stollen Shreds a goodly Sagbut to cover the face of the Ocean,
which then was great with Child of a Potful of Cabbidge, according to the Opinion of the Hay-
bundle-makers: but the Physicians said, that by the Urine they could discern no manifest Sign of
the Bustard's Pace, nor how to eat double-tongued Mat|tocks with Mustard, unless the Lords and
Gen|tlemen of the Court should be pleased to give by B. mol express command to the Pox, not to
run about any longer, in gleaning up of Copper-smiths and Tinkers; for the Jober|nolls had
already a pretty good beginning in their Dance of the British Gig, called the E|strindore, to a
perfect Diapason, with one Foot in the Fire, and their Head in the middle, as good Man Ragot
was wont to say.

Ha, (my Masters) God moderates all things, and disposeth of them at his Pleasure; so that against
unlucky Fortune a Carter broke his frisking Whip, which was all the Wind-In|strument he had:
this was done at his return from the little paultry Town, even then when 73 Master Amitus of
Cresseplots was licentiated, and had past his Degrees in all Dullery and Blockishness, according
to this Sentence of the Canonists, Beati Dunces, quoniam ipsi stumblaverunt. But that which
makes Lent to be so high, by St. Fiacre of Bry, is for no|thing else, but that the Pentecost never
comes but to my cost: yet on afore there, hoe: a lit|tle Rain stills a great Wind; and we must think
so, seeing that the Serjeant hath pro|pounded the Matter so far above my reach, that the Clerks
and Secondaries could not with the Benefit thereof lick their Fingers feathered with Gaunders, so
orbicularly, as they were wont in other things to do. And we do manifestly see, that every one
acknow|ledgeth himself to be in the Error, wherewith another hath been charged, reserving only
those Cases whereby we are obliged to take an ocular Inspection in a prospective Glass of these
things, towards the place in the Chim|ney, where hangeth the Sign of the Wine of forty Girths,
which have been always ac|counted very necessary for the number of twenty Panels and Pack-
saddles of the bank|rupt Protectionaries of five Years respit: how|soever, at least he that would
not let fly the Fowl before the Cheese-cakes, ought in Law to have discovered his Reason why
not; for the Memory is often lost with a wayward Shooing. Well, God keep Theobald Mitain
from all danger. Then said Pantagruel, Hold 74 there: Ho, my Friend, soft and fair, speak at
leisure, and soberly, without putting your self in choler: I understand the Case, go on. Now then,
(my Lord) said Kissebreech, the foresaid good Woman, saying her gaudez and audinos, could
not cover her self with a treacherous Back-blow, ascending by the Wounds and Pas|sions of the
Privileges of the University; un|less by the Virtue of a Warming-pan she had angelically
fomented every part of her Body, in covering them with a Hedg of Garden-Beds: then giving in a
swift unavoidable Thrust very near to the place where they sell the old Rags, whereof the
Painters of Flanders make great use, when they are about neatly to clap on Shoes on
Grashoppers, Locusts, Cigals, and such like Fly-fowls; so strange to us, that I am wonderfully
astonished why the World doth not lay, seeing it is so good to hatch.

Here the Lord of Suckfist would have in|terrupted him and spoken somewhat; where|upon
Pantagruel said unto him, St, by St. Antho|ny's Belly, doth it become thee to speak with|out
Command? I sweat here, and crack my Brain to understand the Proceeding of your mutual
Difference, and yet thou comest to trouble and disquiet me. Peace, in the Devil's Name, Peace;
thou shalt be permitted to speak thy Belly-full when this Man hath done, and no sooner. Go on,
(said he to Kissebreech) speak calmly, and do not over-heat your self with too much haste.
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75 I perceiving then (said Kissebreech) that the pragmatical Sanction did make no mention of it,
and that the holy Pope to every one gave liberty to fart at his own ease, if that the Blankets had
no Streaks, wherein the Liars were to be crossed with a Ruffian-like Crew: and the Rain-bow
being newly sharpned at Milan to bring forth Larks, gave his full consent that the good Woman
should tread down the Heel of the Hipgut-pangs, by virtue of a solemn Protestation put in by the
little testiculated or codsted Fishes; which to tell the truth, were at that time very necessary for
understand|ing the Syntax and Construction of old Boots. Therefore Iohn Calfe, her Cousin-
gervais once removed, with a Log from the Woodstack, ve|ry seriously advised her not to put her
self into the hazard of quagswagging in the Lee, to be scoured with a buck of Linen Clothes, till
first she had kindled the Paper: this Coun|sel she laid hold on, because he desired her to take
nothing, and throw out, for Non de ponte vadit, qui cum sapientia cadit. Matters thus standing,
seeing the Members of that Com|mittee did not fully agree amongst themselves in casting up the
number of the Almany Whi|stles, whereof were framed those Spectacles for Princes, which have
been lately printed at Antwerp. I must needs think that it makes a bad return of the Writ, and that
the adverse Party is not to be believed, in sacer verbo dotis. For that having a great Desire to
obey the 76 Pleasure of the King, I armed my self from Toe to Top with Belly-furniture, of the
Soles of good Venison-pasties, to go see how my Grape-gatherers and Vintagers had pinked and
cut full of small Holes their high Coped-caps, to lecher it the better, and play at in and in. And
indeed the time was very dangerous in coming from the Fair, in so far that many trained Bow-
men were cast at the Muster, and quite rejected, although the Chimney-tops were high enough,
according to the proportion of the Windgalls, and the Malaunders Lami|baudichon. And by this
means there was that Year great abundance throughout all the Coun|try of Artois, of tawny
buzzing Beetles, to the no small profit of the Gentlemen-great-stick-faggot-carriers, when they
did eat without dis|daining the Cocklicranes, till their Belly was like to crack with it again. As for
my part, such is my Christian Charity towards my Neighbours, that I could wish from my Heart
every one had as good a Voice, it would make us play the better at the Tennis and the Baloon.
And truly (my Lord) to express the real Truth without Dissimulation, I cannot but say, that those
petty subtile Devices, which are found out in the etymologizing of Patins, would de|scend more
easily into the River of Seine, to serve for ever at the Millers-Bridg, as it was heretofore decreed
by the King of the Canar|rians, which is to be seen in the Registry and Records within the
Clerks Office of this House.

77 And therefore (my Lord) I do most hum|bly require, that by your Lordship there may be said
and declared upon the Case what is reasonable, with Costs, Damages and Inte|rest. Then said
Pantagruel, My Friend, is this all you have to say? Kissebreech answered, Yes, (my Lord); for I
have told all the tu|autem, and have not varied at all upon mine Honour in so much as one single
word. You then (said Pantagruel) my Lord of Suckfist, say what you will, and be brief, without
omit|ting nevertheless any thing that may serve to the purpose.

CHAP. XII. How the Lord of Suckfist pleaded before Pantagruel.

THen began the Lord Suckfist in manner as followeth: My Lord, and you my Masters, if the
Iniquity of Men were as easily seen in categorical Judgment, as we can dis|cern Flies in a Milk-
 199

pot, the World's four Oxen had not been so eaten up with Rats, nor had so many Ears upon the
Earth been nibbled away so scurvily. For although all that my Adversary hath spoken be of
Down, in so much as concerns the Letter and History of the Factum; yet nevertheless, the
Subtilties, the Fineness, the little sly Intanglements are hid un|der the Rose-pot.

78 Should I endure, that, when I am eating my Pottage, equal with the best, and that without
either thinking or speaking any man|ner of ill, they rudely come to vex, trouble, and perplex my
Brains, ringing in my Ears that old Jingle,

He that will in his Pottage drink,

When he is dead, shall not see one Wink.
And, good Lady! how many great Captains have we seen in the Day of Battel, when in open field
the Sacrament was distributed in Lunchions of the sanctified Bread of the Con|fraternity, the
more honestly to nod their Heads, play on the Lute, crack with their Tails, and make pretty little
platform Leaps? But now the World is unshackled from the Corners of the Packs of Leicester,
one flies out lewdly and becomes debauch'd; another likewise five, four and two, and that at such
random, that if the Court take not some course therein, it will make as bad a Season in mat|ter of
Gleaning this Year, as ever it made, or it will make Goblets. If any poor Creature go to the
Stoves to illuminate his Muzzle with a Cow-shard, or to buy Winter-boots, and that the Serjeants
passing by, or those of the Watch happen to receive the Decoction of a Clyster, or the fecal
Matter of a Close-stool, upon their Rustling-wrangling-clutter-keep|ing Masterships, should any
because of that 79 make bold to clip the Shillings and Testers, and fry the wooden Dishes?
Sometimes when we think one thing, God does another; and when the Sun is set, all Beasts are in
the Shade. Let me never be believed again, if I do not gallantly prove it by several People that
have seen the Light of the Day.

In the Year thirty and six, buying a Dutch Curtail, which was a middle siz'd Horse, both high and
short, of a Wool good enough, and di|ed in Grain, as the Gold-smiths assured me, al|though the
Notary put an &c. in it: I told re|ally, that I was not a Clerk of so much Learn|ing as to snatch at
the Moon with my Teeth; but as for the Butter-firkin, where Vulcanian's Deeds and Evidences
were sealed, the Rumour was, and the Report thereof went currant, that Salt-Beef will make one
find the way to the Wine without a Candle, though it were hid in the bot|tom of a Collier's Sack,
and that with his Draw|ers on he were mounted on a barbed Horse fur|nished with a Fronstal, and
such Arms, Thighs and Leg-pieces as are requisite for the well fry|ing and broiling of a
swaggering Sawciness. Here is a Sheep's Head, and it is well they make a Proverb of this, that it
is good to see black Cows in burnt Wood, when one attains to the Enjoyment of his Love. I had a
Consultation upon this Point with my Masters the Clerks, who for Resolution concluded in
frisesomorum, that there is nothing like to mowing in the Summer, and sweeping clean away in
Water, 80 well garnished with Paper, Ink, Pens and Pen|knives of Lions upon the River of Rosne;
do|lopym dolop of, tarabin tarabas, tut prut pish: for incontinently after that Armour begins to
smell of Garlick, the Rust will go near to eat the Liver, not of him that wears it; and then do they
nothing else but withstand others Courses, and wry-neckedly set up their Bristles against one
another, in lightly passing over their Afternoon's Sleep: and this is that which maketh Salt so
dear. My Lords, believe not, when the said good Woman had with Bird|lime, caught the shovelar
Fowl, the better be|fore a Serjeant's Witness, to deliver the younger Son's Portion to him, that the
Sheep's Pluck, or Hog's Haslet, did dodg and shrink back in the Usurers Purses, or that there
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could be any thing better to preserve one from the Cannibals, than to take a Rope of Onions, knit
with three hundred Turneps, and a little of a Calf's Chaldern of the best Allay that the Alchymists
have: and that they lute and calcine these Pantoffles, muf in muf out. Mouflin mouflard, with the
fine Sauce of the Juice of the Rabble|rout, whilst they hide themselves in some petty Moldwarp-
hole, saving always the Bacon. Now if the Dice will not favour you with any other Throw but
Ambesace, and the Chance of three at the great end, mark well the Ace; then take me your Dame,
settle her in a Corner of the Bed, and whisk me her up drille trille, there, there; then a hearty
Draught of the best, de|spicando 81 grenovillibus, in despight of the Frogs; whose fair course
bebuskined Stockins shall be set apart for the little mued Goslings, which fatned in a Coop, take
delight to sport them|selves at the wagtail Game, waiting for the bea|ting of the Metal, and
heating of the Wax by the slavering Drivellers of Consolation.

Very true it is, that the four Oxen which are in debate, and whereof mention was made, were
somewhat short in memory: nevertheless, to understand the gamme aright, they feared neither the
Cormorant nor Mallard of Savoy, which put the good People of my Country in great hope, that
their Children sometime should become very skilful in Algorism; therefore is it, that by a Law
Rubrick and special Sentence thereof, that we cannot fail to take the Wolf, if we make our
Hedges higher than the Wind|mill, whereof somewhat was spoken by the Plaintiff. But the great
Devil did envy it, and put the High-Dutch far behind, who played the Devils in swilling down
and tipling at the good Liquor, trink meen heer, trink, trink, by two of my Table-men in the
Corner-point I have gained the lurch; for it is not probable, nor is there any appearance of Truth
in this Saying, That at Paris upon a little Bridg the Hen is proportionable: and were they as
cop|ped and high-crested as marish Whoops, if ve|ritably they did not sacrifice the Printers
Pum|pet-balls at Moreb, with a new Edg set upon them by Text Letters, or those of a swift-
wri|ting 82 Hand, it is all one to me, so that the Head|band of the Book breed not Moths or
Worms in it. And put the case, that at the coupling together of the Buck-hounds, the little
Puppies should have waxed proud before the Notary could have given an account of the Serving
of his Writ by the Cabalistick Art, it will ne|cessarily follow (under Correction of the bet|ter
Judgment of the Court) that six Acres of Medow-ground of the greatest breadth, will make three
Butts of fine Ink, without paying ready Money. Considering that at the Fune|ral of King Charles,
we might have had the fathom in open market for Deuce-ace: this I may affirm with a safe
Conscience upon my Oath of Wool.

And I see ordinarily in all good Bag-pipes, that when they go to the counterfeiting of the chirping
of small Birds, by swinging a Broom three times about a Chimney, and putting his Name upon
Record, they do nothing but bend a Cross-bow backward, and wind a Horn, if perhaps it be too
hot, and that by making it fast to a Rope he was to draw, im|mediately after the sight of the
Letters, the Cows were restored to him. Such another Sentence after the homeliest Manner was
pro|nounced in the seventeenth Year, because of the bad Government of Louzefougarouse;
whereunto it may please the Court to have regard. I desire to be rightly understood; for truly I
say not, but that in all Equity, and with 83 an upright Conscience, those may very well be
dispossest, who drink holy Water, as one would do a Weaver's Shuttle, whereof Sup|positories
are made to those that will not re|sign, but on the terms of ell and tell, and gi|ving of one thing for
another. Tunc (my Lords) quid juris pro minoribus? for the com|mon Custom of the Salick Law
is such, that the first Incendiary or Fire-brand of Sedition, that flays the Cow, and wipes his Nose
in a full Consort of Musick, without blowing in the Cobler's Stitches, should in the time of the
 201

Night-mare sublimate the Penury of his Mem|ber by Moss gathered when People are like to
founder themselves at the Mass at Mid-night, to give the Estrapade to these White-wines of
Anjou, that do Gambetta, Neck to Neck, after the Fashion of Britany. Concluding as before with
Costs, Damages and Interests.

After that the Lord of Suckfist had ended, Pantagruel said to the Lord of Kissebreech, My
Friend, have you a mind to make any Reply to what is said? No, (my Lord) answered
Kissebreech; for I have spoke all I intended, and nothing but the Truth, therefore put an end for
God's sake to our Difference, for we are here at great Charge.

84

CHAP. XIII. How Pantagruel gave Iudgment upon the Dif|ference of the two Lords.

THen Pantagruel rising up, assembled all the Presidents, Counsellors and Doctors that were
there, and said unto them; Come now, (my Masters) you have heard (vivae vocis oraculo) the
Controversy that is in question, what do you think of it? They an|swered him, We have indeed
heard it, but have not understood the Devil so much as one Cir|cumstance of the Case; and
therefore we be|seech you unâ voce, and in courtesy request you, that you would give Sentence
as you think good; and ex nunc prout ex tunc, we are satis|fied with it, and do ratify it with our
full Con|sents. Well, my Masters (said Pantagruel) seeing you are so pleased, I will do it: but I
do not truly find the Case so difficult as you make it: Your Paragraph Caton, the Law Frater, the
Law Gallus, the Law Quinque pedum, the Law Vinum, the Law Si Dominus, the Law Mater, the
Law Mulier bona, the Law Si quis, the Law Pomponius, the Law Fundi, the Law Emptor, the
Law Praetor, the Law Venditor, and a great many others are far more intricate in my Opinion.
After he had spoke this, he walked a turn or two about the Hall, plodding 85 very profoundly as
one may think; for he did groan like an Ass, whilst they girth him too hard, with the very
Intensiveness of considering how he was bound in Conscience to do right to both Parties, without
varying or accepting of Persons. Then he returned, sate down, and be|gan to pronounce Sentence
as followeth:

Having seen, heard, calculated and well con|sidered of the Difference between the Lords of
Kissebreech and Suckfist; the Court saith unto them, that in regard of the sudden Shivering of the
Flickermouse, bravely declining from the estival Solstice, to attempt by private means the
surprizal of toyish Trifles in those, who are a little unwel for having taken a Draught too much,
through the lewd Demeanour and Vex|ation of the Beetles, that inhabit the Diarodal Climate of
an hypocritical Ape on Horseback, bending a Cross-bow backwards. The Plain|tiff truly had just
cause to calfet, and stop the Chinks of the Gallion, which the good Wo|man blew up with Wind,
having one Foot shod and the other bare, re-imbursing and re|storing to him low and stiff in his
Conscience, as many Bladder-nuts and wild Pistaches as there is of Hair in eighteen Cows, with
as much for the Embroiderer, and so much for that. He is likewise declared innocent of the Case
pri|vileged from the Knapdardies, into the danger whereof it was thought he had incurred;
be|cause he could not jocundly and with fulness of Freedom untruss and dung, by the decision of
86 a pair of Gloves perfumed with the Scent of Bum-gunshot, at the Walnut-tree Taper, as is
 202

usual in his Country of Mirobalois. Slacking therefore the Top-sail, and letting go the Bou|lin
with the Brazen-bullets, wherewith the Mariners did by way of Protestation bake in Paste-meat
great store of Pulse, interquilted with the Dormouse, whose Hawks Bells were made with a
puntinaria, after the manner of Hungary or Flanders Lace, and which his Bro|ther-in-Law
carried in a Panier, lying near to three Chevrons or bordered Gueules, whilst he was clean out of
heart, drooping and crest|fallen by the too narrow sifting, canvassing, and curious examining of
the Matter, in the angu|lary Dog-hole of nasty Scoundrels, from whence we shoot at the
vermiformal Popingay, with the Flap made of a Fox-tail.

But in that he chargeth the Defendant, that he was a Botcher, Cheese-eater, and Trimmer of
Man's Flesh imbalmed; which in the arsi|versy swagfal tumble was not found true, as by the
Defendant was very well discussed.

The Court therefore doth condemn and a|merce him in three Poringers of Curds, well cemented
and closed together, shining like Pearls, and cod-pieced after the Fashion of the Country, to be
payed unto the said Defendant about the middle of August in May: but on the other part, the
Defendant shall be bound to furnish him with Hay and Stubble, for stopping the Caltrops of his
Throat, troubled and im|pulregafized, 87 with Gabardines garbeled shuf|flingly, and Friends as
before, without Costs and for cause.

Which Sentence being pronounced, the two Parties departed both contented with the Decree;
which was a thing almost incredible: for it never came to pass since the great Rain; nor shall the
like occur in thirteen Jubilees hereaf|ter, that two Parties contradictorily conten|ding in
Judgment, be equally satisfied and well pleased with the definitive Sentence. As for the
Counsellors, and other Doctors in the Law that were there present, they were all so ravi|vished
with Admiration at the more than Hu|mane Wisdom of Pantagruel, which they did most clearly
perceive to be in him, by his so ac|curate Decision of this so difficult and thorny Cause, that their
Spirits, with the Extremity of the Rapture, being elevated above the pitch of actuating the Organs
of the Body, they fell into a Trance and sudden Extasy, wherein they stayed for the space of three
long Hours; and had been so as yet in that Condition, had not some good People fetched store of
Vineger and Rose-water to bring them again unto their for|mer Sense and Understanding. For the
which God be praised every where; And so be it.

88

CHAP. XIV. How Panurge related the manner how he escaped out of the Hands of the
Turks.

THe great Wit and Judgment of Pantagruel was immediately after this made known unto all the
World, by setting forth his Praises in Print, and putting upon Record this late wonderful Proof he
hath given thereof amongst the Rolls of the Crown, and Registers of the Pa|lace, in such sort, that
every Body began to say, that Solomon, who by a probable Guess only, without any further
certainty, caused the Child to be delivered to its own Mother, shewed ne|ver in his time such a
Master-piece of Wisdom, as the good Pantagruel had done: happy are we therefore that have
 203

him in our Country. And indeed they would have made him there|upon Master of the Requests,
and President in the Court: but he refused all, very graciously thanking them for their Offer; for
(said he) there is too much Slavery in these Offices, and very hardly can they be saved that do
exercise them, considering the great Corruption that is a|mongst Men. Which makes me believe,
if the empty Seats of Angels be not fill'd with o|ther kind of People than those, we shall not have
the final Judgment these seven thousand sixty and seven Jubilees yet to come; and so Cusanus 89
will be deceived in his Conjecture. Remember that I have told you of it, and given you fair
Ad|vertisement in time and place convenient.

But if you have any Hogsheads of good Wine, I willingly will accept of a Present of that; which
they very heartily did do, in sending him of the best that was in the City, and he drank reasonably
well. But poor Panurge bibbed and bowsed of it most villainously; for he was as dry as a Red
herring, as lean as a Rake, and like a poor, lank, slender Cat, walked gingerly as if he had trod
upon Eggs: so that by some one being admonished, in the midst of his Draught of a large deep
Bowl, full of excellent Claret, with these words, Fair and softly Gos|sip, you suck up as if you
were mad: I give thee to the Devil, (said he) thou hast not found here thy little tipling Sippers of
Paris, that drink no more than the Chaffinch, and never take in their Beak full of Liquor, till they
be bobbed on the Tails after the manner of the Sparrows. O Companion, if I could mount up as
well as I can get down, I had been long e're this above the Sphere of the Moon with Empedocles.
But I cannot tell what a Devil this means. This Wine is so good and delicious, that the more I
drink thereof, the more I am a-thirst. I believe that the Shadow of my Master Pantagruel maketh
Men a-thirsty, as the Moon doth the Catarrs and Defluxions. At which word the Company began
to laugh. Which Pantagruel perceiving, said, Panurge, what is 90 that which moves you to laugh
so? Sir, said he, I was telling them that these devilish Turks are very unhappy, in that they never
drink one drop of Wine; and that though there were no other harm in all Mahomet's Alcoran, yet
for this one base Point of Abstinence from Wine, which therein is commanded, I would not
sub|mit my self unto their Law. But now tell me (said Pantagruel) how you escaped out of their
Hands. By G---, Sir, (said Panurge) I will not lie to you in one word.

The rascally Turks had broached me upon a Spit all larded like a Rabbet, (for I was so dry and
meagre, that otherwise of my Flesh they would have made but very bad Meat) and in this manner
began to rost me alive. As they were thus roasting me, I recommended my self unto the Divine
Grace, having in my Mind the good St. Lawrence, and always hoped in God that he would
deliver me out of this Torment, which came to pass, and that very strangely: for as I did commit
my self with all my Heart unto God, crying, Lord God help me, Lord God save me, Lord God
take me out of this Pain and hellish Torture, wherein these trai|terous Dogs detain me for my
Sincerity in the Maintenance of thy Law; the Turn-spit fell a|sleep by the Divine Will, or else by
the Virtue of some good Mercury, who cunningly brought Argus into a Sleep for all his hundred
Eyes. When I saw that he did no longer turn me in roasting, I looked upon him, and per|ceived 91
that he was fast asleep, then took I up in my Teeth a Fire-brand by the end where it was not
burnt, and cast it into the Lap of my Roaster; and another did I throw as well as I could under a
Field-bed, that was placed near to the Chimney, wherein was the Straw-bed of my Master Turn-
spit; presently the Fire took hold in the Straw, and from the Straw to the Bed, and from the Bed
to the Loft, which was planked and cieled with Firr, after the fashion of the foot of a Lamp. But
the best was, that the Fire which I had cast into the Lap of my paul|try Roaster, burnt all his
Groin, and was begin|ning to cease upon his Cullions, when he be|came sensible of the danger;
 204

for his Smelling was not so bad, but that he felt it sooner than he could have seen Day-light.
Then suddenly getting up, and in a great Amazement running to the Window, he cried out to the
Streets as high as he could, Dalbaroth, Dalbaroth, Dal|baroth; which is as much to say, Fire,
Fire, Fire: incontinently turning about, he came streight towards me, to throw me quite into the
Fire; and to that effect, had already cut the Ropes, wherewith my Hands were tied, and was
undoing the Cords from off my Feet; when the Master of the House hearing him cry, Fire, and
smelling the Smoke from the very Street where he was walking with some other Baashaws and
Mustaphaes, ran with all the speed he had to save what he could, and to carry away his Jewels.
Yet such was his Rage, (before he could well 92 resolve how to go about it) that he caught the
Broach whereon I was spitted, and therewith killed my Roaster stark dead, of which Wound he
died there for want of Government or other|wise; for he ran him in with the Spit a little above the
Navel, towards the right Flank, till he pierced the third Lappet of his Liver, and the Blow flanting
upwards from the Dia|phragme, through which it had made Penetra|tion; the Spit past athwart
the Pericardium, and came out above at his Shoulders, betwixt the Spondyls and the left
Homoplat.

True it is, (for I will not lie) that in draw|ing the Spit out of my Body, I fell to the Ground near
unto the Andirons, and so by the Fall took some hurt; which indeed had been greater, but that the
Lardons, or little Slices of Bacon, wherewith I was stuck, kept off the Blow. My Baashaw then
seeing the Case to be desperate, his House burnt without Remission, and all his Goods lost, gave
himself over unto all the Devils in Hell, calling upon some of them by their Names, Gringoth,
Astaroth, Rap|p[...]lus and Gribonillis, nine several times; which when I saw, I had above six
Penny-worth of Fear, dreading that the Devils would come e|ven then to carry away this Fool,
and seeing me so near him would perhaps snatch me up too. I am ready (thought I) half roasted,
and my Lardons will be the cause of my Mischief; for these Devils are very lickorous of
Lardons, according to the Authority which you have of 93 the Philosopher Iamblicus and
Murmault, in the Apology of Bossuris, adulterated pro magi|stros nostros. But for my better
security I made the sign of the Cross, crying, Hageos, athana|tos, hotheos, and none came: At
which, my Rogue Baashaw being very much aggrieved, would in transpiercing his Heart with
my Spit have killed himself; and to that purpose had set it against his Breast, but it could not
enter, because it was not sharp enough. Whereupon I perceiving that he was not like to work
upon his Body the Effect which he intended, al|though he did not spare all the Force he had to
thrust it forward, came up to him and said, Master Bugrino, thou dost here but trifle away thy
time, for thou wilt never kill thy self thus as thou doest. Well, thou mayest hurt or bruise
somewhat within thee, so as to make thee lan|guish all thy Life-time most pitifully amongst the
Hands of the Chirurgions; but if thou wilt be counselled by me, I will kill thee clear out|right, so
that thou shalt not so much as feel it; and trust me, for I have killed a great many o|thers, who
never have complained afterwards. Ha, my Friend, said he, I prethee do so, and for thy pains I
will give thee my Cod-piece; take, here it is, there are six hundred Seraphs in it, and some fine
Diamonds, and most excellent Rubies. And where are they, said Epistemon? By St. Iohn (said
Panurge) they are a good way hence, if they always keep going: But where is the last Year's
Snow? This was the greatest 94 care that Villon the Parisian Poet took. Make an end (said
Pantagruel) that we may know how thou didst dress thy Baashaw: By the Faith of an honest
Man (said Panurge) I do not lie in one word; I swadled him in a scurvy Swathel-binding, which I
found lying there half burnt, and with my Cords tied him Royster-like both Hand and Foot, in
such sort that he was not able to winse; then past my Spit through his Throat, and hanged him
 205

thereon, fastening the end thereof at two great Hooks or Cramp-irons, up|on which they did hang
their Halberds; and then kindling a fair Fire under him, did flame you up my Milourt, as they use
to do dry Herrings in a Chimney: with this, taking his Budget, and a little Javelin that was upon
the foresaid Hooks, I ran away a fair Gallop-rake, and God he knows how I did smell my
Shoulder of Mutton.

When I was come down into the Street, I found every Body come to put out the Fire with store of
Water, and seeing me so half-roasted, they did naturally pity my Case, and threw all their Water
upon me, which by a most joyful refreshing of me, did me very much good. Then did they
present me with some Victuals, but I could not eat much, be|cause they gave me nothing to drink
but Wa|ter after their fashion. Other hurt they did me none, only one little villanous Turky knob-
brested Rogue, came to snatch away some of my Lardons; but I gave him such a sturdy Thump,
and sound Rap on the Fingers, with 95 all the weight of my Javelin, that he came no mote the
second time. Shortly after this, there came towards me a pretty young Corinthian Wench, who
brought me a Box full of Con|serves, of round Mirabolan Plums, called Em|blicks, and looked
upon my poor Roger with an Eye of great Compassion, as it was Flea-bitten and pinked with the
Sparkles of the Fire from whence it came, for it reached no further in length (believe me) than
my Knees. But note, that this Roasting cured me entirely of a Sciatica, whereunto I had been
subject above se|ven Years before, upon that side which my Roa|ster, by falling asleep, suffered
to be burnt.

Now whilst they were thus busy about me, the Fire triumphed, never ask, How? for it took hold
on above two thousand Houses; which one of them espying, cryed out, say|ing, By Mahooms
Belly all the City is on fire, and we do nevertheless stand gazing here, with|out offering to make
any Relief. Upon this, every one ran to save his own. For my part, I took my way towards the
Gate. When I was got upon the Knap of a little Hillock, not far off, I turned me about as did Lot's
Wife, and looking back, saw all the City burning in a fair Fire; whereat I was so glad, that I had
al|most beshit my self for Joy: but God punished me well for it. How? said Pantagruel. Thus,
said Panurge; for when with Pleasure I beheld this jolly Fire, jesting with my self, and saying,
Ha poor Flies, ha poor Mice, you will have a 96 bad Winter of it this Year; the Fire is in your
Reeks, it is in your Bed-straw: Out came more than six, yea more than thirteen hundred and
eleven Dogs great and small, altogether out of the Town, flying away from the Fire. At the first
Approach they ran all upon me, being carried on by the Scent of my leacherous half-roasted
Flesh, and had even then devoured me in a trice, if my good Angel had not well inspired me with
the Instruction of a Re|medy, very sovereign against the Pain of the Teeth. And wherefore (said
Pantagruel) wert thou afraid of the Pain of the Teeth? wert thou not cured of thy Rheums? By
Palm-Sunday (said Panurge) is there any greater Pain of the Teeth than when the Dogs have you
by the Legs? But on a sudden (as my good Angel directed me) I thought upon my Lardons, and
threw them into the midst of the Field among them: then did the Dogs run, and fight with one
another at fair Teeth, which should have the Lardons: by this means they left me, and I left them
also bustling with, and haring one another. Thus did I escape frolick and lively, Grammerie
Roast-meat and Cookery.

97
 206

CHAP. XV. How Panurge shewed a very new way to build the Walls of Paris.

PAntagruel one Day to refresh himself of his Study, went a walking towards St. Marcel's
Suburbs, to see the Extravagancy of the Gobeline Building, and to taste of their spiced Bread.
Panurge was with him, having always a Flaggon under his Gown, and a good Slice of a
Gammon of Bacon; for without this he never went, saying, That it was his Life-guard; other
Sword carried he none. And when Pantagruel would have given him one, he answered, that he
needed none, for that it would but heat his Feius. Yea, but (said Epistemon) if thou shouldest be
set upon, how wouldest thou defend thy self? With great brodkin Blows, answered he, provided
Thrusts were forbidden. At their return, Pa|nurge considered the Walls of the City of Pa|ris, and
in derision said to Pantagruel, See what fair Walls here are! O how strong they are, and well
fitted to keep Geese in a Coop to fatten them! by my Beard they are very sorry Walls for such a
City as this is; for a Cow with one Fart would go near to overthrow a|bove six fathoms of them.
O my Friend (said Pantagruel) dost thou know what Agesilaus 98 said, when he was asked, Why
the great City of Lacedemon was not inclosed with Walls? shewing them the Inhabitants and
Citizens, so strong, so well armed, and so expert in Milita|ry Discipline; Lo here (said he) the
Walls of the City: Signifying thereby, that there is no Wall but of Bones, and that Towns and
Cities cannot have a surer Wall, nor better Fortifica|tion than the Prowess and Vertue of the
Citi|zens and Inhabitants. So is this City so strong, by the great number of Warlike People that
are in it, that they care not for making any o|ther Walls.

Besides, whosoever would go about to wall it· as Strasbourg, Orleans or Ferrara, would find it
almost impossible, the Cost and Charges would be so excessive. Yea, but (said Pa|nurge) it is
good nevertheless to have an out|side of Stone, when we are invaded by our E|nemies, were it but
to ask, Who is below there? As for the enormous Expence, which you say would be needful for
undertaking the great Work of walling this City about, if the Gentlemen of the Town will be
pleased to give me a good rough Cup of Wine, I will shew them a pretty, strange and new way
how they may build them good cheap. How, said Pan|tagruel? Do not speak of it then,
(answered Panurge) and I will tell it you. I see that the what d'ye Call-ums of the Women of this
Country, are better cheap than Stones: of them should the Walls be built, ranging them in 99
good Symmetry by the Rules of Architecture, and placing the largest in the first Ranks, then
sloping downwards Ridg-ways, like the Back of an Ass; the middle sized ones must be ran|ked
next, and last of all the least and smallest. This done, there must be a fine little interlacing of
them, like Points of Diamonds, as is to be seen in the great Tower of Bourges, with a like number
of the lusty Catfoes that dwell in a|mongst the claustral Cod-pieces. What De|vil were able to
overthrow such Walls? there is no Metal like it to resist Blows, in so far that if Culverin-shot
should come to grase up|on it, you would incontinently see distil from thence the blessed Fruit of
the great Pox, as small as Rain. Beware in the name of the De|vils, and hold off. Furthermore, No
Thunder|bolt or Lightning would fall upon it; for why? they are all either blest or consecrated. I
see but one Inconveniency in it. Ho, ho, ha, ha, ha, (said Pantagruel) and what is that? It is that
the Flies would be so lickorish of them, to a Wonder, and would quickly gather there to|gether,
and there leave their Ordure and Ex|cretions, and so all the Work would be spoi|led. But see how
that might be remedied: they must be wiped and made rid of the Flies with fair Fox-tails, or good
great Ass-pizzles of Provence. And to this purpose I will tell you (as we go to Supper) a brave
Example set down by Frater Lubinus, libro de compota|tionibus mendicantium.
 207

100 In the time that the Beasts did speak, (which is not yet three Days ago) a poor Lion walking
through the Forest of Bieure, and saying his own little private Devotions, past under a Tree
where there was a roguish Collier gotten up to cut down Wood: who seeing the Lion, cast his
Hatchet at him, and wounded him enor|mously in one of his Legs: whereupon the Li|on halting,
so long toiled and turmoiled him|self in roaming up and down the Forest to find help, till at last
he met with a Carpenter, who willingly look'd upon his Wound, clean|sed it as well as he could,
and filled it with Moss, telling him that he must wipe his Wound well, that the Flies might not do
their Excre|ments in it, whilst he should go search for some Millefoil, commonly called the
Carpen|ter's Herb. The Lion being thus healed, walked along in the Forrest; at what time, a
sempiternous old Hag was picking up, and ga|thering some Sticks in the said Forest, who seeing
the Lion coming towards her, for fear fell down backwards, in such sort, that the Wind blew up
her Gown, Coats and Smock e|ven as far as above her Shoulders. Which the Lion perceiving, for
pity ran to see whether she had taken any hurt by the Fall; and thereup|on considering her what
you call it, said, O poor Woman, who hath thus wounded thee? which Words when he had
spoken, he espied a Fox, whom he called to come to him, saying, Gossip Renard, hau, hither,
hither, and for cause.

101 When the Fox was come, he said unto him, My Gossip and Friend, they have hurt this good
Woman here between the Legs most villanous|ly, and there is a manifest Solution of Continui|ty;
see how great a Wound it is, even from the Tail up to the Navel, in measure four, nay full five
Hand-fulls and a half; this is the Blow of an Hatchet, I doubt me it is an old Wound, and
therefore that the Flies may not get into it, wipe it lustily well and hard, I pre|thee, both within
and without; thou hast a good Tail and long; wipe, my Friend, wipe, I beseech thee, and in the
mean while I will go get some Moss to put into it. For thus ought we to succour and help one
another. Wipe it hard, thus, my Friend, wipe it well, for this Wound must be often wiped,
otherwise the Party cannot be at ease. Go to, wipe well, my little Gossip, wipe, God hath
furnished thee with a Tail; thou hast a long one, and of a Bigness proportionable, wipe hard and
be not weary. A good Wiper, who in wiping conti|nually, wipeth with his Wipard, by Wasps shall
never be wounded. Wipe, my pretty Minion, wipe, my little Bully, I will not stay long. Then went
he to get store of Moss; and when he was a little way off, he cried out in speaking to the Fox
thus, Wipe well still, Gossip, wipe, and let it never grieve thee to wipe well, my little Gossip, I
will put thee into Service to be Wiper to Don Pedro de Castille; wipe, only wipe, and no more.
The poor Fox wiped as 102 hard as he could, here and there, within and without: but the false old
Trot did so fizzle and foist, that she stunk like a hundred Devils. Which put the poor Fox to a
great deal of ill ease; for he knew not to what side to turn himself, to escape the unsavoury
Perfume of this old Woman's postern Blasts. And whilst to that effect he was shifting hither and
thither, without knowing how to shun the Annoyance of those unwholesom Gusts, he saw that
be|hind there was yet another Hole, not so great as that which he did wipe, out of which came
this filthy and infectious Air. The Lion at last returned, bringing with him of Moss more than
eighteen Packs would hold, and began to put it into the Wound, with a Staff which he had
provided for that purpose; and had al|ready put in full sixteen Packs and a half, at which he was
amazed: What a Devil? (said he) this Wound is very deep, it would hold above two Cart-loads of
Moss. The Fox per|ceiving this, said unto the Lion, O Gossip Lion, my Friend, I pray thee do not
put in all thy Moss there, keep somewhat; for there is yet here another little Hole, that stinks like
five hundred Devils. I am almost choaked with the smell thereof, it is so pestiferous and
impoi|soning.
 208

In this manner (said Panurge) must these Walls be kept from the Flies; and Wages al|lowed to
some for wiping of them. Then said Pantagruel, How dost thou know that the pri|vy 103 Parts of
Women are at such a cheap Rate? for in this City there are many vertuous, ho|nest and chaste
Women besides the Maids. Et ubi prenus, said Panurge? I will give you my Opinion of it, and
that upon certain and assu|red Knowledg. I do not brag that I have bum|basted four hundred and
seventeen, since I came into this City, though it be but nine days ago. But this very Morning I
met with a good Fel|low, who in a Wallet, such as Aesop's was, carried two little Girls of two or
three years old at the most, one before, and the other be|hind. He demanded Alms of me, but I
made him answer, that I had more Cods than Pence. Afterwards I asked him, good Man, these
two Girls are they Maids? Brother, said he, I have carried them thus these two years, and in
re|gard of her that is before, whom I see continu|ally, in my Opinion she is a Virgin, neverthe|less
I will not put my Finger in the Fire for it; as for her that is behind, doubtless I can say no|thing.
Indeed (said Pantagruel) thou art a merry Companion, I will have thee to be ap|parelled in my
Livery: and therefore caused him to be clothed most gallantly according to the Fashion that then
was; only that Panurge would have the Cod-piece of his Breeches three Foot-long, and in shape
square, not round, which was done, and was well worth the see|ing. Often-times was he wont to
say that the World had not yet known the Emolument and Utility that is in wearing great Cod-
pieces; 104 but Time would one day teach it them, as all things have been invented in time.

God keep from hurt (said he) the good Fellow whose great Cod-piece hath saved his Life. God
keep from hurt him, whose great Cod-piece hath been worth to him in one day, one hundred
threescore thousand and nine Crowns. God keep from hurt him, who by his great Cod-piece hath
saved a whole City from dying by Famine. And by G--- I will make a Book of the Commodity of
great Cod-pieces, when I shall have more leasure. And indeed he composed a fair great Book
with Figures, but it is not printed as yet that I know of.

CHAP. XVI. Of the Qualities and Conditions of Panurge.

PAnurge was of a middle Stature, not too high nor too low, and had somewhat an Aquiline Nose,
made like the Handle of a Ra|zor. He was at that time five and thirty Years old or thereabouts,
fine to gild like a leaden Dagger; for he was a very gallant Man of his Person, only that he was a
little lewd, and na|turally subject to a kind of Disease, which at that time they called Lack of
Money; a Mala|dy Nompareil: yet notwithstanding he had threescore and three Tricks to help
himself at 105 his need. Of which, the most honourable and most ordinary, was by the way of
filching; for he was a quarrelsom Fellow, a Sharper, Drin|ker, Royster, Scowrer, and a very
dissolute and debauch'd Fellow, if there were any in Paris; otherwise, and in all Matters else, the
best Man in the World. And he was still con|triving some Plot, and devising Mischief against the
Serjeants and the Watch.

At one time he assembled three or four e|special good Hacksters and roaring Boys; made them in
the Evening drink like Templers, after|wards led them till they came under St. Gene|vieve, or
about the College of Navar; and at the Hour that the Watch was coming up that way, which he
knew by putting his Sword upon the Pavement, and his Ear by it, and when he heard his Sword
 209

shake, it was an infallible Sign that the Watch was near at that instant: then he and his
Companions took a Tumbrel or Dung-cart, and gave it the Bran|gle, hurling it with all their Force
down the Hill, and so overthrew all the poor Watch|men like Pigs, and then ran away upon the
o|ther side; for in less than two days, he knew all the Streets, Lanes and Turnings in Paris, as
well as his Deus de[...] .

At another time he made in some fair Place, where the said Watch was to pass, a Train of Gun-
powder, and at the very instant that they went along, set fire to it, and then made himself Sport to
see what good Grace 106 they had in running away, thinking that St. An|thony's. Fire had caught
them by the Legs. As for the poor Masters of Arts, he did persecute them above all others. When
he encountered with any of them upon the Street, he would ne|ver fail to put some Trick or other
upon them; sometimes putting a fry'd Turd in their Gra|duate Hoods; at other times pinning on
little Fox-tails, or Hares-ears behind them, or some such other roguish Prank. One Day that they
were appointed all to meet in the Fodder-street, he made a Borbonnesa Tart, made of store of
G[...]lick, of Assa foetida, of Castoreum, of Dogs Turds very warm; which he steep'd, tem|per'd
and liquifi'd in the corrupt Matter of pocky Biles, and pestiferous Botch[...]s; and very early in the
Morning, therewith anointed all the Pavement, in such sort, that the Devil could not have
endured it. Which made all these good People, there to lay up their Gorges, and vomit what was
upon their Stomachs before all the World, as if they had flayed the Fox. And ten or twelve of
them died of the Plague; fourteen became Lepers, eighteen grew Lousy, and above seven and
twenty had the Pox, but he did not care a Button for it. He commonly carried a Whip under his
Gown, wherewith he whipt without remission the Pages, whom he found carrying Wine to their
Masters, to make them mend their pace. In his Coat he had above six and twenty little Fabs and
Poc|kets always full, one with some Lead-water, 107 and a little Knife as sharp as a Glover's
Needle, wherewith he used to cut Purses: Another with some kind of bitter Stuff, which he threw
into the Eyes of those he met: Another with Clot|burs, penned with little Geese or Capons
Fea|thers, which he cast upon the Gowns and Caps of honest People; and often made them fair
Horns, which they wore about all the City, sometimes all their Life. Very often also up|on the
Womens Hoods would he stick in the hind-part somewhat made in the Shape of a Man's
Member. In another he had a great many little Horns full of Fleas [...] Lice, which he borrowed
from the [...] of St. Innocent, and cast them [...] [...]mall Canes or Quills to write with· [...]nto the
Necks of the daintiest Gen|tlewomen [...] could find, yea even in the Church, for he never seated
himself above in the Quire, but always sate in the Body of the Church amongst the Women, both
at Mass, at Vespres, and at Sermon. In another, he u|sed to have good store of Hooks and
Buckles, where withal he would couple Men and Wo|men together, that sate in company close to
one another; but especially those that wore Gowns of Crimson Taffaties, that when they were
about to go away, they might rent all their Gowns. In another, he had a Squib fur|nished with
Tinder, Matches, Stones to strike Fire, and all other Tackling necessary for it. In another, two or
three burning Glasses, wherewith he made both Men and Women 108 sometimes mad, and in the
Church put them quite out of Countenance; for he said that there was but an Antistrophe between
a Wo|man; folle a la messe, and molle a la fesse.

In another, he had a good deal of Needles and Thread, wherewith he did a thousand lit|tle
devillish Pranks. One time at the entry of the Palace unto the great Hall, where a Cor|delier was
to say Mass to the Counsellors; he did help to apparel him, and put on his Vest|ments; but in the
accoutring of him, he sow|ed on his Alb, Surplice or Stole, to his Gown and Shirt, and then
 210

withdrew himself, when the said Lords of the Court, or Counsellors, came to hear the said Mass:
but when it came to the Ite, missa est, that the poor Frater would have laid by his Stole, or
Surplice, he plucked off withal both his Frock and Shirt which were well sowed together, and
thereby stripping himself up to the very Shoulders, shewed his what do you Call-um to all the
World, which was no small one, as you may imagine: and the Friar still kept haling, but so much
the more did he discover himself, and lay open his Back-parts, till one of the Lords of the Court
said, How now, what's the mat|ter? will this good Father make us here an Of|fering of his Tail to
kiss it? nay, St. Anthony's Fire kiss it for us. From thenceforth was made an Ordinance that the
poor Fathers should never disrobe themselves any more be|fore the World, but in their Vestry-
room, e|specially 109 in the presence of Women, lest it should tempt them to the Sin of Longing,
and disordinate Desire. The People then asked, why it was the Friars had so long and large
Genitories? the said Panurge resolved the Pro|blem very neatly, saying, That which makes Asses
to have such great Ears, is that their Dams did put no Biggins on their Heads, as Alliaco
mentioneth in his Suppositions; by the like Reason, that which makes the Generation-Tools of
those fair Fraters so long, is, for that they ware no bottomed Breeches, and there|fore their jolly
Member having no Impedi|ment, hangeth dangling at liberty, as far as it can reach, with a wigle-
wagle down to their Knees, as Woman carry their Patinotre Beads. And the cause wherefore
they have it so cor|respondently great, is, that in this constant wig-wagging the Humours of the
Body de|scend into the said Member: for according to the Legists, Agitation and continual
Motion is cause of Attraction.

Item, He had another Pocket full of itching Powder, called Stone-allum; whereof he would cast
some into the Backs of those Women, whom he judged to be most beautiful and stately, which
did so ticklishly gall them, that some would strip themselves in the open view of the World, and
others dance like a Cock upon hot Embers, or a Drum-stick on a Ta|ber: others again ran about
the Streets, and he would run after them: to such as were in 110 the stripping Vein, he would
very civilly come to offer his Attendance, and cover them with his Cloak, like a courteous and
very gracious Man.

Item, In another he had a little Leather-bottle full of old Oil; wherewith, when he saw any Man or
Woman in a rich new hand|som Sute, he would grease, smutch and spoil all the best parts of it
under colour and pre|tence of touching them, saying, This is good Cloth, this is good Sattin, good
Taffaties; Ma|dam, God give you all that your noble Heart desireth: you have a new Sute, pretty
Sir; and you a new Gown· sweet Mistris, God give you Joy of it, and maintain you in all
Prospe|rity; and with this would lay his Hand upon their Shoulder; at which touch such a
villa|nous Spot was left behind, so enormously engraven to Perpetuity in the very Soul, Bo|dy
and Reputation, that the Devil himself could never have taken it away. Then upon his departing,
he would say, Madam, take heed you do not fall, for there is a filthy great Hole before you.

Another he had all full of Euphorbium, very finely pulverized: in that Powder did he lay a fair
Handkerchief curiously wrought, which he had stollen from a pretty Seamstress of the Pa|lace, in
taking away a Louse from off her Bo|som, which he had put there himself. And when he came
into the Company of some good La|dies, he would trifle them into a Discourse of 111 some fine
Workmanship of Bone-lace; then im|mediately put his Hand into their Bosom, ask|king them,
And this Work, is it of Flanders, or of Hainault? and then drew out his Hand|kerchief, and said,
Hold, hold, look what Work here is· it is of Foutiman or of Foutarabia: and shaking it hard at
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their Nose, made them sneeze for four [...]lours without ceasing. In the mean while he would fart
like a Horse, and the Wo|men would laugh, and say, How now, do you fart Panurge? No, no,
Madam, (said he) I do but tune my Tail to the plain Song of the Mu|sick, which you make with
your Nose. In ano|ther he had a Picklock, a Pellican, a Cramp|iron, a Crook, and some other Iron
Tools, wherewith there was no Door nor Coffer which he would not pick open. He had another
full of little Cups, wherewith he played very artificial|ly; for he had his Fingers made to his
Hand, like those of Minerva or Arachne, and had heretofore cried Triacle. And when he changed
a Teston, Cardecu, or any other piece of Money, the Changer had been more subtil than a Fox, if
Panurge had not at every time made five or six Sols, vanish away invisibly, openly and
manifest|ly, without making any Hurt or Lesion, where|of the Changer should have felt nothing
but the Wind.

112

CHAP. XVII. How Panurge gained the Pardons, and marri|ed the old Women; and of the
Suit in Law which he had at Paris.

ONe Day I found Panurge very much out of countenance, melancholick and si|lent, which made
me suspect that he had no Money; whereupon I said unto him, Panurge you are sick, as I do very
well perceive by your Physiognomy; and I know the Disease, you have a Flux in your Purse; but
take no care, I have yet seven Pence half-penny, that never saw Father nor Mother, which shall
not be wan|ting no more than the Pox in your necessity. Whereunto he answered me, Well, well,
for Money, one Day I shall have but too much; for I have a Philosopher's Stone, which attracts
Money out of Mens Purses, as the Adamant doth Iron. But will you go with me to gain the
Pardons, said he? By my Faith (said I) I am no great Pardon-taker in this World; if I shall be any
such in the other, I cannot tell. Yet let us go in God's Name, it is but one Far|thing more or less.
But (said he) lend me then a Farthing upon interest? No, no, (said I) I will give it you freely, and
from my Heart, Grates vobis dominos, said he.

113 So we went along, beginning at St. Ger|vase, and I got the Pardons at the first Box only; for
in those Matters very little con|tenteth me. Then did I say my small Suffra|ges, and the Prayers of
St. Brigid; but he gained them at all the Boxes, and always gave Money to every one of the
Pardoners. From thence we went to our Ladies Church, to St. Iohn's, to St. Anthony's, and so to
the o|ther Churches, where there was a Banquet of Pardons; for my part, I gained no more of
them. But he at all the Boxes kissed the Re|licks, and gave at every one. To be brief, when we
were returned, he brought me to drink at the Castle-Tavern, and there shewed me ten or twelve
of his little Bags full of Mo|ney; at which I blest my self, and made the Sign of the Cross, saying,
Where have you recovered so much Money in so little time? Unto which he answered me, that he
had ta|ken it out of the Basons of the Pardons. For in giving them the first Farthing (said he) I put
it in with such slight of hand, and so dex|terously, that it appeared to be a Three-pence; thus with
one Hand I took Three-pence, Nine-pence or Six-pence at the least, and with the o|ther as much,
and so through all the Churches where we have been.
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Yea, but (said I) you damn your self like a Snake, and are withal a Thief and sacrilegi|ous
Person. True, (said he) in your Opinion, but I am not of that Mind; for the Pardoners 114 do give
me it, when they say unto me in pre|senting the Relicks to kiss, Centuplum accipies; that is, that
for one Penny I should take a hun|dred. For Accipies is spoken according to the manner of the
Hebrews, who use the future Tense instead of the Imperative, as you have in the Law, Diliges
Dominum; that is, dilige: Even so when the Pardon-Bearer says to me, Centuplum accipies; his
meaning is, Centu|plum accipe: and so doth Rabbi Kimi, and Rabbi Aben Ezra expound it, and
all the Mas|sorets, & ibi Bartholus.

Moreover, Pope Sixtus gave me fifteen hun|dred Francks of yearly Pension upon his
Ec|clesiastical Revenues and Treasure, for having cured him of a Canckrous Botch, which did so
torment him, that he thought to have been a Cripple by it all his life. Thus I do pay my self at my
own hand (for otherways I get no|thing) upon the said Ecclesiastical Treasure.

Ho, my Friend! (said he) if thou didst know how well I feathered my Nest, by the Pope's Bull of
the Croisade, thou wouldest wonder exceedingly. It was worth to me a|bove six thousand
Florins. And what a Devil is become of them? said I; for of that Money thou hast not one Half-
penny. They returned from whence they came, (said he) they did no more but change their
Master.

But I employed at least three thousand of them in marrying (not young Virgins, for they find but
too many Husbands) but great 115 old sempiternous Trots, which had not so much as one Tooth
in their Heads. And that out of the Consideration I had, that these good old Women had very well
spent the time of their Youth in playing at the Close-buttock-game to all Comers, serving the
foremost first, till no Man would have any more dealing with them. And by G--- I will have their
Skin-coat shaken once yet before they die. By this means, to one I gave a hundred Florins, to
another six score, to another three hundred, according as they were infamous, detest|able and
abominable. For by how much the more horrible and execrable they were, so much the more
must I needs have given them, otherways the Devil would not have jum'd them. Presently I went
to some great and fat Wood-porters, or such like, and did my self make the Match; but before I
did shew him the old Hags, I made a fair muster to him of the Crowns, saying, Good Fellow, see
what I will give thee, if thou wilt but con|descend to dufle, dinfredaille, or lecher it one good
bout. Then began the poor Rogues to gape like old Mules, and I caused to be pro|vided for them
a Banquet, with Drink of the best, and store of Spiceries, to put the old Wo|men in rut and heat of
Lust. To be short, they occupied all like good Souls; only to those that were horribly ugly and ill-
favoured, I caused their Heads to be put within a Bag, to hide their Face.

116 Besides all this, I have lost a great deal in Suits of Law. And what Law-Suits couldst thou
have, said I? thou hast neither House nor Lands. My Friend, (said he) the Gentlewomen of this
City had found out, by the instigation of the Devil of Hell, a manner of high-mount|ed Gorgets,
and Neckerchiefs for Women, which did so closely cover their Bosoms, that Men could no more
put their Hands under; for they had put the Slit behind, and those Neck|cloths were wholly shut
before; whereat the poor sad contemplative Lovers were much discontented. Upon a fair
Tuesday, I pre|sented a Petition to the Court, making my self a Party against the said
Gentlewomen, and shewing the great Interest that I pretended therein, protesting that by the same
reason, I would cause the Cod-piece of my Breeches to be sowed behind, if the Court would not
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take order for it. In sum, the Gentlewomen put in their Defences, shewed the Grounds they went
upon, and constituted their Attorney for the prosecuting of the Cause; but I pur|sued them so
vigorously, that by a Sentence of the Court it was decreed, those high Neck|cloths should be no
longer worn, if they were not a little cleft and open before: but it cost me a good Sum of Money.
I had another very filthy and beastly Process against Master Foh|foh and his Deputies, that they
should no more read privily the Pipe, Punehon, nor quart of Sentences; but in fair full-day, and
that in the 117 Fodder-Schools, in face of the Arrian Sophi|sters, where I was ordained to pay the
Charges, by reason of some Clause mistaken in the Re|lation of the Serjeant.

Another time I framed a Complaint to the Court, against the Mules of the Presidents, Counsellors
and others, tending to this purpose; that when in the lower Court of the Palace, they left them to
champ on their Bridles, some Bibs might be made for them, that with their Drivelling they might
not spoil the Pavement, to the end, that the Pages of the Palace might play upon it at Dice, or
Coxbody at their own ease, without spoiling their Breeches at the Knees. And for this I had a fair
Decree, but it cost me dear. Now reckon up what Ex|pence I was at in little Banquets, which
from Day to Day I made to the Pages of the Palace. And to what end, said I? My Friend (said he)
thou hast no pass-time at all in this World, I have more than the King; and if thou wilt join thy
self with me, we will do the Devil to|gether.

No, no, (said I) by St. Adauras that will I not, for thou wilt be hanged one time or a|nother. And
thou (said he) wilt be interred sometime or other. Now which is most ho|nourable, the Air or the
Earth? Ho, grosse Pecore.

Whilst the Pages are at their Banqueting, I keep their Mules, and to some one I cut the Stirrup-
leather of the Mounting side, till it hang 118 but by a thin Strap or Thread, that when the great
Puff-guts of the Counsellor or some other hath taken his Swing to get up, he may fall flat on his
Side like a Pork, and so furnish the Spectators with more than a hundred Francks worth of
Laughter. But I laugh yet further, to think how at his home-coming the Master-page is to be
whipp'd like green Rie, which makes me not to repent what I have bestowed in feasting them. In
brief, he had (as I said before) threescore and three Ways to acquire Money, but he had two
hundred and fourteen to spend it, besides his Drinking.

CHAP XVIII. How a great Scholar of England would have argued against Pantagruel, and
was over|come by Panurge.

IN that same time a certain learned Man, named Thaumast, hearing the Fame and Renown of
Pantagruel's incomparable Know|ledg, came out of his own Countrey of Eng|land, with an
Intent only to see him, to try thereby, and prove, whether his Knowledg in Effect was so great as
it was reported to be. In this Resolution, being arrived at Paris, he went forthwith unto the House
of Pantagruel, who was lodged in the Palace of St. Denys, and was then walking in the Garden
with Panurge, 119 philosophizing after the Fashion of the Peripa|teticks At his first Entrance he
startled, and was almost out of his Wits for Fear, seeing him so great and so tall; then did he
salute him courteously, as the Manner is, and said unto him, Very true it is, saith Plato the Prince
 214

of Philosophers, that if the Image of Knowledg and Wisdom were corporeal and visible to the
Eyes of Mortals, it would stir up all the World to admire her. Which we may the rather be|lieve,
that the very bare Report thereof, scat|tered in the Air, if it happen to be received in|to the Ears of
Men, who for being studious, and Lovers of vertuous things, are called Phi|losophers, doth not
suffer them to sleep nor rest in Quiet, but so pricketh them up, and sets them on fire, to run unto
the Place where the Person is, in whom the said Knowledg is said to have built her Temple, and
uttered her Oracles; as it was manifestly shewn unto us in the Queen of Sheba, who came from
the ut|most Borders of the East and Persian Sea, to see the Order of Solomon's House, and to hear
his Wisdom. In Anacharsis, who came out of Scythia, even unto Athens, to see Solon. In
Pythagoras, who travelled far to visit the Mem|phitical Vaticinators. In Platon, who went a great
way off to see the Magicians of Egypt, and Architas of Tarentum. In Apollonius Ti|aneus, who
went as far as unto Mount Cauca|sus, passed along the Scythians, the Massage|tes, the Indians,
and sailed over the great Ri|ver 120 Phison, even to the Brachmans, to see Hi|archas: As
likewise unto Babylon, Chaldea, Media, Assyria, Parthia, Syria, Phaenicia, Arabia, Palestina
and Alexandria, even unto Aethiopia, to see the Gymnosophists. The like Example have we of
Titus Livius, whom to see and hear divers studious Persons, came to Rome, from the Confines of
France and Spain. I dare not reckon my self in the Number of those so excellent Persons, but
well would be called studious, and a Lover, not only of Learn|ing, but of learned Men also. And
indeed, having heard the Report of your so inestimable Knowledg, I have left my Country, my
Friends, my Kindred and my House, and am come thus far, valuing at nothing the length of the
Way, the Tediousness of the Sea, nor Strangeness of the Land, and that only to see you, and to
confer with you about some Pas|sages in Philosophy, of Geomancie, and of the Cabalistick Art;
whereof I am doubtful, and cannot satisfy my Mind; which if you can re|solve, I yield my self
unto you for a Slave hence|forward, together with all my Posterity; for other Gift have I none,
that I can esteem a Re|compence sufficient for so great a Favour. I will reduce them into Writing,
and to Mor|row publish them to all the learned Men in the City, that we may dispute publickly
before them.

But see in what manner, I mean that we shall dispute. I will not argue pro & contra, 121 as do
the sottish Sophisters of this Town, and other Places. Likewise I will not dispute after the manner
of the Academicks, by Declamati|on. Nor yet by Numbers, as Pythagoras was wont to do, and as
Picus de la mirandula did of late at Rome. But I will dispute by Signs only, without speaking; for
the Matters are so abstruse, hard and arduous, that Words pro|ceeding from the Mouth of Man,
will never be sufficient for unfolding of them to my liking. May it therefore please your
Magnificence to be there, it shall be at the great Hall of Navarre, at seven a Clock in the
Morning. When he had spoke these Words, Pantagruel very ho|nourably said unto him, Sir, of
the Graces that God hath bestowed upon me, I would not deny to communicate unto any Man to
my Power; for whatever comes from him is good, and his Pleasure is, that it should be increased
when we come amongst Men worthy and fit to receive this celestial Manna of honest Litera|ture.
In which Number, because that in this Time (as I do already very plainly perceive) thou holdest
the first Rank, I give thee Notice that at all Hours thou shalt find me ready to condescend to
every one of thy Requests, ac|cording to my poor Ability: although I ought rather to learn of thee,
than thou of me; but as thou hast protested, we will confer of these Doubts together, and will
seek out the Reso|lution, even unto the bottom of that undraina|ble Well, where Heraclitus says
the Truth lies 122 hidden. And I do highly commend the man|ner of arguing which thou hast
proposed, to wit, by Signs without speaking; for by this Means thou and I shall understand one
 215

another well enough, and yet shall be free from this clapping of Hands, which these blockish
So|phisters make, when any of the Arguers hath gotten the better of the Argument. Now to
Morrow I will not fail to meet thee at the Place and Hour that thou hast appointed; but let me
intreat thee that there be not any Strife or Up|roar between us, and that we seek not the Ho|nour
and Applause of Men, but the Truth on|ly. To which Thaumast answered, The Lord God
maintain you in his Favour and Grace; and instead of my Thankfulness to you, pour down his
Blessings upon you, for that your Highness and magnificent Greatness hath not d[...]sdained to
descend to the Grant of the Request of my poor Baseness; so farewel till to Mor|row. Farewel,
said Pantagruel. Gentlemen, you that read this present Discourse, think not that ever Men were
more elevated and tran|sported in their Thoughts, than all this Night were both Thaumast and
Pantagruel: for Thau|mast said to the Keeper of the House of Cluny, where he was lodged, that
in all his Life he had never known himself so dry as he was that Night: I think (said he) that
Pantagruel held me by the Throat: Give Order, I pray you, that we may have some Drink, and
see that some fresh Water be brought to us to gargle my Palat.

123 On the other side Pantagruel stretched his Wits as high as he could, entring into very deep
and serious Meditations, and did nothing all that Night but plod upon, and turn over the Book of
Beda, de Numeris & Signis. Plo|tius's Book, de Inenarrabilibus. The Book of Proclus, de Magia.
The Book of Artemi|dorus, [...]. Of Anaxagaras, [...]. Dinatius, [...]. The Books of Philistion.
Hipponax, [...]; and a Rabble of others, so long, that Panurge said unto him,

My Lord, leave all these Thoughts, and go to Bed; for I perceive your Spirits to be so troubled by
a too intensive bending of them, that you may easily fall into some Quotidian Fever with this so
excessive thinking and plod|ding: but having first drank twenty five, or thirty good Draughts,
retire your self and sleep your fill; for in the Morning I will argue a|gainst, and answer your
Monsieur the English|man; and if I drive him not ad metam non lo|qui, then call me Knave. Yea
but (said he) my Friend Panurge, he is marvellously learn|ed, how wilt thou be able to answer
him? Ve|ry well, (answered Panurge) I pray you talk no more of it, but let me alone; is any Man
so learned as the Devils are? No, indeed (said Pantagruel) without God's especial Grace. Yet for
all that (said Panurge) I have argued against them, gravelled and blanked them in Disputation,
and laid them so squat upon their 124 Tails, that I have made them look like Monkies: therefore
be assured, that to Mor|row I will make this vain-glorious Englishman to skite Vinegar before all
the World. So Pa|nurge spent the Night with tipling amongst the Pages, and played away all the
Points of his Breeches at primus secundus, and at Peck-point. Yet when the appointed Time was
come, he failed not to conduct his Master Pan|tagruel to the Place, unto which (believe me) there
was neither great nor small in Paris but came, thinking with themselves that this devi|lish
Pantagruel, who had overthrown and vanquished in Dispute all these doting fresh|water
Sophisters, would now get full Pay|ment, and be tickled to some purpose; for this Englishman is
another Devil of a Dispu|tant; we will see who will be Conqueror.

Thus all being assembled, Thaumast stayed for them; and then when Pantagruel and Pa|nurge
came into the Hall, all the School-boys, Professors of Arts, Senior-Sophisters and Bat|chelors
began to clap their Hands, as their scur|vy Custom is: but Pantagruel cried out with a loud Voice,
as if it had been the Sound of a double Cannon, saying, Peace, with a Devil to you, Peace; by G--
- you Rogues, if you trouble me here, I will cut off the Heads of every one of you. At which
Words they re|mained all daunted and astonished, like so ma|ny Ducks, and durst not do so much
 216

as cough, although they had swallowed fifteen Pounds o[...] 125 Feathers: withal they grew so
dry with this only Voice, that they laid out their Tongues a full half Foot beyond their Mouths, as
if Pan|tagruel had salted all their Throats. Then be|gan Panurge to speak, saying to the
English|man, Sir, are you come hither to dispute con|tentiously in those Propositions you have
set down, or otherways but to learn and know the Truth? To which answered Thaumast, Sir, no
other thing brought me hither, but the great Desire I had to learn, and to know that of which I
have doubted all my Life long, and have neither found Book nor Man able to content me in the
Resolution of those Doubts which I have proposed. And as for disputing contentiously, I will not
do it, for it is too base a thing, and therefore leave it to those sot|tish Sophisters, who in their
Disputes do not search for the Truth, but for Contradiction only and Debate. Then said Panurge,
If I who am but a mean and inconsiderable Disci|ple of my Master my Lord Pantagruel, content
and satisfy you in all and every thing, it were a thing below my said Master, wherewith to trouble
him: therefore is it fitter that he be Chair-man, and sit as a Judg and Moderator of our Discourse
and Purpose, and give you Satisfaction in many things, wherein perhaps I shall be wanting to
your Expectation. Tru|ly (said Thaumast) it is very well said: begin then. Now you must note that
Panurge had set at the End of his long Codpiece a pretty Tuft 126 of red Silk, as also of white,
green and blew, and within it had put a fair Orange.

CHAP. XIX. How Panurge put to a non-plus the English-man that argued by Signs.

EVery Body then taking heed, and harkning with great Silence, the English-man lift up on high
into the Air his two Hands several|ly, clinching in all the Tops of his Fingers together, after the
manner they call en Chinon|nois, the Hens Arse, and struck the one Hand on the other by the
Nails four several times: then he opening them, struck the one with the flat of the other, till it
yielded a clashing Noise, and that only once: again in joining them as before he struck twice, and
afterwards four times in opening them; then did he lay them joined, and extended the one
towards the other, as if he had been devoutly to send up his Prayers unto God. Panurge suddenly
lifted up in the Air his right Hand, and put the Thumb thereof into the Nostril of the same Side,
holding his four Fingers streight out, and closed orderly in a parallel Line to the Point of his
Nose, shutting the left Eye wholly, and making the other wink with a profound Depression of the
Eye-brows and Eye-lids. Then lifted he up his left Hand, with hard 127 wringing and stretching
forth his four Fingers, and elevating his Thumb, which he held in a Line directly correspondent
to the Situation of his right Hand, with the Distance of a Cubit and a half between them. This
done, in the same Form he abased towards the Ground, both the one and the other Hand. Lastly,
he held them in the midst, as aiming right at the English-man's Nose. And if Mercurie, said the
English-man---: there Panurge interrupted him, and said, You have spoken Mask.

Then made the English-man this Sign, his left Hand all open he lifted up into the Air, then
instantly shut into his Fist the four Fingers thereof, and his Thumb extended at length he placed
upon the Gristle of his Nose. Pre|sently after he lifted up his right Hand all o|pen, and all open
abased and bent it down|wards, putting the Thumb thereof in the ve|ry Place where the little
Finger of the left Hand did close in the Fist, and the four right-Hand-Fingers he softly moved in
 217

the Air. Then contrarily he did with the right Hand what he had done with the left, and with the
left what he had done with the right.

Panurge being not a whit amazed at this, drew out into the Air his Trismegist Codpiece with the
left Hand, and with his right drew forth a Trunchion of a white Ox-rib, and two Pieces of Wood
of a like Form, one of black Eben, and the other of Incarnation Brasil, and put them betwixt the
Fingers of that Hand in 128 good Symmetrie: then knocking them toge|ther, made such a Noise
as the Lepers of Bri|tainie use to do with their clappering Clickets, yet better resounding, and far
more harmoni|ous, and with his Tongue contracted in his Mouth, did very merrily warble it,
always looking fixedly upon the English-man. The Divines, Physicians and Chirurgions that
were there, thought that by this Sign he would have inferred that the English-man was a Le|per.
The Counsellors, Lawyers and Decreta|lists conceived, that by doing this, he would have
concluded some kind of mortal Felicity to consist in Leprosie, as the Lord maintained heretofore.

The English-man for all this was nothing daunted, but holding up his two Hands in the Air, kept
them in such Form, that he closed the three Master-fingers in his Fist; and passing his Thumbs
thorow his indical and middle Fin|gers, his auriculary Fingers remained extend|ed and stretched
out, and so presented he them to Panurge: then joined he them so, that the right Thumb touched
the left, and the left little Finger touched the right. Hereat Pa|nurge, without speaking one Word,
lift up his Hands and made this Sign.

He put the Nail of the Forefinger of his left Hand, to the Nail of the Thumb of the same, making
in the middle of the Distance as it were a Buckle, and of his right Hand shut up all the Fingers
into his Fist, except the Forefin|ger 129 which he often thrust in and out through the said two
others of the left Hand: then stretched he out the Forefinger and middle Fin|ger or medical of his
right Hand, holding them asunder as much as he could, and thrusting them towards Thaumast.
Then did he put the Thumb of his left Hand upon the Corner of his left Eye, stretching out all his
Hand like the Wing of a Bird, or the Fin of a Fish, and moving it very daintily this way and that
way; he did as much with his right Hand upon the Corner of his right Eye. Thaumast began then
to wax somewhat pale, and to tremble, and made him this Sign.

With the middle Finger of his right Hand he struck against the Muscle of the Palm or Pulp,
which is under the Thumb: then put he the Forefinger of the right Hand in the like Buckle of the
left, but he put it under and not over, as Panurge did. Then Panurge knock|ed one Hand against
another, and blowed in his Palm, and put again the Forefinger of his right Hand into the Overture
or Mouth of the left, pulling it often in and out: then held he out his Chin, most intensively
looking upon Thaumast. The People there which under|stood nothing in the other Signs, knew
very well what therein he demanded, without speaking a Word to Thaumast: What do you mean
by that? In Effect, Thaumast then be|gan to sweat great Drops, and seemed to all the Spectators a
Man strangely ravished in high 130 Contemplation. Then he bethought himself, and put all the
Nails of his left Hand against those of his right, opening his Fingers as if they had been
Semicircles, and with this Sign lift up his Hands as high as he could. Where|upon Panurge
presently put the Thumb of his right Hand under his Jaws, and the little Fin|ger thereof in the
Mouth of the left Hand, and in this Posture made his Teeth to sound very melodiously, the upper
against the lower. With this Thaumast with great Toil and Vexa|tion of Spirit rose up, but in
rising let a great Bakers Fart, for the Bran came after; and pissing withal very strong Vineger,
 218

stunk like all the Devils in Hell. The Company began to stop their Nose; for he had conskitted
him|self with meer Anguish and Perplexity. Then lifted he up his right Hand, clinching it in such
sort, that he brought the Ends of all his Fin|gers to meet together; and his left Hand he laid flat
upon his Breast. Whereat Panurge drew out his long Codpiece with his Tuft, and stretched it
forth a Cubit and a half, holding it in the Air with his right Hand, and with his left took out his
Orange, and casting it up in|to the Air seven times, at the eighth he hid it in the Fist of his right
Hand, holding it steadi|ly up on high, and then began to shake his fair Codpiece, shewing it to
Thaumast.

After that Thaumast began to puff up his two Cheeks like a Player on a Bagpipe, and blew as if
he had been to puff up a Pig's Blad|der. 131 Whereupon Panurge put one Finger of his left Hand
in his Nockandrow, and with his Mouth suck'd in the Air, in such a manner as when one eats
Oysters in the Shell, or when we sup up our Broth: this done, he opened his Mouth somewhat,
and struck his right Hand flat upon it, making therewith a great and a deep Sound, as if it came
from the Su|perficies of the Diaphragma through the Tra|chiartere: and this he did for sixteen
Times; but Thaumast did always keep blowing like a Goose. Then Panurge put the Forefinger of
his right Hand into his Mouth, pressing it ve|ry hard to the Muscles thereof: then he drew it out,
and withal made a great Noise, as when little Boys shoot Pellets out of the Pot-cannons made of
the hollow Sticks of the Branch of an Elder-tree; and he did it nine times.

Then Thaumast cried out, Ha, my Masters, a great Secret: with this he put in his Hand up to the
Elbow; then drew out a Dagger that he had, holding it by the Point down|wards. Whereat
Panurge took his long Cod|piece, and shook it as hard as he could against his Thighs; then put
his two Hands intwined in manner of a Comb upon his Head, laying out his Tongue as far as he
was able; and turning his Eyes in his Head, like a Goat that is ready to die. Ha, I understand (said
Thau|mast) but what? making such a Sign, that he put the Haft of his Dagger against his Breast,
132 and upon the Point thereof the flat of his Hand, turning in a little the Ends of his Fin|gers;
whereat Panurge held down his Head on the left side, and put his middle Finger into his right
Ear, holding up his Thumb bolt upright; then he cross'd his two Arms upon his Breast, and
coughed five times, and at the fifth time he struck his right Foot a|gainst the Ground: then he lift
up his left Arm, and closing all his Fingers into his Fist, held his Thumb against his Forehead,
striking with his right Hand six times against his Breast. But Thaumast, as not content therewith,
put the Thumb of his left Hand upon the Top of his Nose, shutting the rest of his said Hand.
Whereupon Panurge set his two Master-fingers upon each side of his Mouth, drawing it as much
as he was able, and widening it so, that he shewed all his Teeth: and with his two Thumbs
pluck'd down his two Eye-lids very low, making therewith a very ill-fa|vour'd Countenance, as it
seemed to the Com|pany.

133

CHAP. XX. How Thaumast relateth the Vertues and Know|ledg of Panurge.

THen Thaumast rose up, and putting off his Cap, did very kindly thank the said Panurge, and
with a loud Voice said unto all the People that were there, My Lords, Gen|tlemen, and others, at
 219

this time may I to some good Purpose speak that Evangelical Word, Et ecce plus quàm Salomon
hîc. You have here in your Presence an incomparable Treasure, that is, my Lord Pantagruel,
whose great Renown hath brought me hither, out of the very Heart of England, to confer with
him about the insoluble Problems, both in Magick, Alchymy, the Caballe, Geomancy, Astrology
and Philosophy, which I had in my Mind. But at present I am angry, even with Fame it self,
which I think was envious to him, for that it did not declare the thousandth Part of the Worth that
indeed is in him. You have seen how his Disciple only hath satisfied me, and hath told me more
than I asked of him: besides, he hath opened unto me and resolved other inestimable Doubts,
wherein I can assure you he hath to me discovered the very true Well, Fountain and Abyss of the
Encyclopedeia of Learning; yea in such a sort, 134 that I did not think I should ever have found a
Man that could have made his Skill appear, in so much as the first Elements of that concern|ing
which we disputed by Signs, without speaking either Word or half Word. But in fine, I will
reduce into Writing that which we have said and concluded, that the World may not take them to
be Fooleries, and will hereafter cause them to be printed, that every one may learn as I have
done. Judg then what the Master had been able to say, seeing the Disciple hath done so valiantly;
for, Non est Discipulus super Magistrum. Howsoever God be praised, and I do very humbly
thank you for the Honour that you have done us at this Act: God reward you for it eternally. The
like Thanks gave Pantagruel to all the Com|pany; and going from thence, he carried Thaumast to
Dinner with him, and believe that they drank as much as their Skins could hold; or, as the Phrase
is, with unbottomed Bellies, (for in that Age they made fast their Bellies with Buttons, as we do
now the Collars of our Doublets) even till they neither knew where they were, nor whence they
came. Blessed Lady, how they did carouze it, and pluck (as we say) at the Kids Leather; and
Flaggons to trot, and they to toot, Draw, give (Page) some Wine; here, reach hither, fill with a
Devil, so? There was not one but did drink five and twenty or thirty Pipes, can you tell how?
even sicut terra sine aqua; for 135 the Weather was hot; and besides that, they were very dry. In
Matter of the Exposition of the Propositions set down by Thaumast; and the Signification of the
Signs which they used in their Disputation, I would have set them down for you according to
their own Relation; but I have been told that Thaumast made a great Book of it, imprinted at
London, wherein he hath set down all without omitting any thing, and therefore at this Time I do
pass by it.

CHAP. XXI. How Panurge was in love with a Lady of Paris.

PAnurge began to be in great Reputation in the City of Paris, by Means of this Dis|putation,
wherein he prevailed against the English-man, and from thenceforth made his Codpiece to be
very useful to him, to which Effect he had it pinked with pretty little Em|broideries, after the
Romanesca Fashion: And the World did praise him publickly, in so far that there was a Song
made of him, which little Children did use to sing when they went to fetch Mustard. He was
withal made wel|come in all Companies of Ladies and Gentle|women; so that at last he became
presumptu|ous, and went about to bring to his lure one of the greatest Ladies in the City: And
indeed 136 leaving a Rabble of long Prologues and Pro|testations, which ordinarily these dolent
con|templative Lent-lovers make, who never med|dle with the Flesh; one Day he said unto her,
Madam, it would be a very great Benefit to the Commonwealth, delightful to you, ho|nourable to
 220

your Progeny, and necessary for me, that I cover you for the propagating of my Race; and
believe it, for Experience will teach it you. The Lady at this Word thrust him back above a
hundred Leagues, saying, You mischievous Fool, is it for you to talk thus unto me? whom do
you think you have in hand? be gone, never to come in my Sight again; for if one thing were not,
I would have your Legs and Arms cut off.

Well, (said he) that were all one to me, to want both Legs and Arms, provided you and I had but
one merry bout together at the brangle Buttock-game; for here within is (in shewing her his long
Codpiece) Master Iohn Thursday, who will play you such an Antick, that you shall feel the
Sweetness thereof even to the very Marrow of your Bones: He is a Gallant, and doth so well
know how to find out all the Corners, Creeks and ingrained In|mates in your carnal Trap, that
after him there needs no Broom, he'l sweep so well be|fore, and leave nothing to his Followers to
work upon. Whereunto the Lady answered, Go Villain, go, if you speak to me one such Word
more, I will cry out, and make you to 137 be knocked down with Blows. Ha, (said he) you are
not so bad as you say, no, or else I am deceived in your Physiognomy; for sooner shall the Earth
mount up unto the Heavens, and the highest Heavens descend unto the Hells, and all the Course
of Nature be quite pervert|ed· than that in so great Beauty and Neatness as in you is, there should
be one Drop of Gall or Malice: They say indeed, that hardly shall a Man ever see a fair Woman
that is not also stubborn; yet that is spoke only of those vul|gar Beauties, but yours is so
excellent, so sin|gular, and so heavenly, that I believe Nature hath given it you as a Paragon and
Master|piece of her Art, to make us know what she can do, when she will imploy all her Skill,
and all her Power. There is nothing in you but Honey, but Sugar, but a sweet and ce|lestial
Manna. To you it was to whom Paris ought to have adjudged the golden Apple, not to Venus, no
nor to Iuno, nor to Miner|va; for never was there so much Magnificence in Iuno, so much
Wisdom in Minerva, nor so much Comeliness in Venus, as there is in you.

O heavenly Gods and Goddesses! how hap|py shall that Man be to whom you will grant the
Favour to embrace her, to kiss her, and to rub his Bacon with hers? by G--- that shall be I, I know
it well; for she loves me already her Belly full, I am sure of it; and so was I predestinated to it by
the Fairies. And there|fore 138 that we lose no Time, put on, thrust out your Gamons: Then he
would have imbraced her; but she made as if she would put out her Head at the Window, to call
her Neighbours for Help. Then Panurge on a sudden ran out, and in his running away said,
Madam, stay here till I come again, I will go call them my self, do not you take so much Pains.
Thus went he away, not much caring for the Re|pulse he had got, nor made he any whit the worse
cheer for it. The next Day he came to the Church, at the Time that she went to Mass; at the Door
he gave her some of the Holy Water, bowing himself very low before her: afterwards he kneeled
down by her very familiarly, and said unto her, Madam, know that I am so amorous of you, that I
can neither piss nor dung for love: I do not know (Lady) what you mean, but if I should take any
hurt by it, how much would you be to blame?

Go, said she, go, I do not care, let me alone to say my Prayers. Ay but (said he) equi|vocate upon
a Beaumon le viconte. I cannot, said she. It is, said he, a beau con le vit mon|te: and upon this
pray to God to give you that which your noble Heart desireth; and I pray you give me these
Patenotres. Take them (said she) and trouble me no longer. This done, she would have taken off
her Patenotres, which were made of a kind of yellow Stone called Cestrin, and adorned with
great Spots of Gold; but Panurge nimbly drew out one 139 of his Knives, wherewith he cut them
 221

off very handsomly; and whilst he was going away to carry them to the Brokers, he said to her,
Will you have my Knife? No, no, said she. But (said he) to the Point, I am at your
Com|mandment, Body and Goods, Tripes and Bowels.

In the mean time the Lady was not well content with the Want of her Patinotres, for they were
one of her Implements to keep her Countenance by in the Church; then thought with her self, this
bold flouting Royster is some giddy, fantastical, light-headed Fool of a strange Country; I shall
never recover my Patenotres again, what will my Husband say? he will no doubt be angry with
me; but I will tell him that a Thief hath cut them off from my Hands in the Church, which he will
easily believe, seeing the End of the Ribbon left at my Girdle. After Dinner Panurge went to see
her, carrying in his Sleeve a great Purse full of Palace-crowns, (called Counters) and began to
say unto her, Which of us two loveth other best, you me, or I you? Whereunto she an|swered, As
for me, I do not hate you; for as God commands, I love all the World. But to the Point, (said he)
are not you in love with me? I have (said she) told you so many times already, that you should
talk so no more to me; and if you speak of it again, I will teach you, that I am not one to be
talked unto dishonestly: get you hence packing, and deli|ver 140 me my Patenotres, that my
Husband may not ask me for them.

How now, (Madam) said he, your Pate|notres? Nay, by mine Oath I will not do so, but I will
give you others; had you rather have them of Gold well enamelled in great round Knobs, or after
the manner of Love-knots, or otherwise all massive, like great In|gots; or if you had rather have
them of Ebene, of Iacinth, or of grained Gold, with the Marks of fine Turkoises, or of fair
Topazes, marked with fine Saphirs, or of baleu Rubies, with great Marks of Diamonds of eight
and twenty Squares? No, no, all this is too little. I know a fair Bracelet of fine Emeraulds,
marked with spotted Ambergris, and at the Buckle a Persian Pearl as big as an Orange; it will
not cost above five and twenty thousand Ducats, I will make you a Present of it, for I have ready
Coin enough; and withal he made a Noise with his Counters as if they had been French Crowns.

Will you have a Piece of Velvet, either of the Violet Colour, or of Crimson died in Grain; or a
piece of broached or crimson Sat|tin? Will you have Chains, Gold, Tablets, Rings? You need no
more but say, Yes; so far as fifty thousand Ducats may reach, it is but as nothing to me. By the
Virtue of which Words he made the Water come in her Mouth. But she said unto him, No, I
thank you, I will have nothing of you. By G--- said he, 141 but I will have somewhat of you; yet
shall it be that which shall cost you nothing, neither shall you have a jot the less, when you have
given it: hold, (shewing his long Codpiece) this is Master Iohn Goodfellow, that asks for
Lodging, and with that would have imbraced her; but she began to cry out, yet not very loud.
Then Panurge put off his counterfeit Garb, changed his false Visage, and said unto her, You will
not then otherways let me do a little, a Turd for you, you do not deserve so much Good, nor so
much Honour: but by G--- I will make the Dogs ride you, and with this he ran away as fast as he
could, for fear of Blows, whereof he was naturally fearful.

CHAP. XXII. How Panurge served the Parisian Lady a Trick that pleased her not very
well.
 222

NOW you must note that the next Day was the great Festival of Corpus Christi, called the Sacre,
wherein all Women put on their best Apparel; and on that Day the said Lady was clothed in a
rich Gown of Crimson-Sattin, under which she wore a very costly white Velvet Petticoat.

Now on the Vigil, Panurge searched so long of one side and another, that he found a hot or salt
Bitch, which when he had tied her 142 with his Girdle, he led to his Chamber, and fed her very
well all that Day and Night; in the Morning thereafter he killed her, and took that Part of her
which the Greek Geomanciers know, and cut it into several Pieces as small as he could; then
carrying it away as close as might be, he went to the Place where the La|dy was to come along to
follow the Procession, as the Custom is upon the said Holy Day. And when she came in,
Panurge sprinkled some ho|ly Water on her, saluting her very courteously. Then a little while
after she had said her petty Devotions, he sat down close by her upon the same Bench, and gave
her this Roundlay in Writing, in manner as followeth.

A Roundlay.

Lady for once, because my Case

I told you, am I out of Grace?
That you should so severely call
Me to be gone for Good and all,
Who never had deserv'd your Frown
By Word, Deed, Letter, or Lampoon.
You might deny me what I sought,
And not have call'd me all to nought,
Because I would have had a Bout,

Lady for once.

It hurts you not that I complain

Of my intolerable Pain;
143 Of bloudy Wound, and deadly Dart,
Wherewith your Beauty thrills my Heart·
And since from thence my Torment came,
O grant some little of that same,

Lady for once.

 223

And as she was opening this Paper to see what it was, Panurge very promptly and lightly
scattered the Drug that he had upon her in divers Places, but especially in the Plaits of her
Sleeves, and of her Gown: then said he unto her, Madam, the poor Lovers are not always at ease.
As for me, I hope that those heavy Nights, those Pains and Troubles which I suffer for Love of
you, shall be a De|duction to me of so much Pain in Purgatory: yet at the least pray to God to
give me Pati|ence in my Misery. Panurge had no sooner spoke this, but all the Dogs that were in
the Church came running to this Lady with the Smell of the Drugs that he had strowed upon her,
both small and great, big and little, all came, laying out their Member; smelling to her, and
pissing every where upon her; it was the greatest Villany in the World.

Panurge made some Offers of driving them away; then took his leave of her, and with|drew
himself into a Chappel or Oratory of the said Church, to see the Sport; for these villanous Dogs
did compiss all her Habilia|ments, and left none of her Attire unbe|sprinkled 144 with their
Staling, in so much that a tall Grey-hound piss'd upon her Head; others in her Sleeves; others on
her Crupper-piece; and the little ones pissed upon her Pattains: so that all the Women that were
round about her had much ado to save her. Whereat Pa|nurge very heartily laughing, he said to
one of the Lords of the City, I believe that the same Lady is hot, or else that some Grey-hound
hath covered her lately. And when he saw that all the Dogs were flocking about her, yarring at
the Retardment of their Access to her, and every way keeping such a Coil with her as they are
wont to do about a proud or salt Bitch; he forthwith departed from thence, and went to call
Pantagruel; not forgetting in his way alongst all the Streets thorow which he went, where he
found any Dogs, to give them a Bang with his Foot, saying, Will you not go with your Fellows to
the Wedding? Away hence, avant, avant, with a Devil a|vant. And being come home, he said to
Pantagruel, Master, I pray you come and see all the Dogs of the Country, how they are
as|sembled about a Lady, the fairest in the City, and would dufle and line her. Whereunto
Pantagruel willingly condescended, and saw the Mystery, which he found very pretty and
strange. But the best was at the Procession, in which were seen above six hundred thou|sand and
fourteen Dogs about her, which did very much trouble and molest her; and whi|thersoever 145
she pass'd, those Dogs that came afresh, tracing her Footsteps, followed her at the Heels, and
piss'd in the way where her Gown had touched.

All the World stood gazing at this Spectacle, considering the Countenance of those Dogs, who
leaping up got about her Neck, and spoil|ed all her gorgeous Accoutrements, for the which she
could find no Remedy, but to re|tire unto her House, which was a Palace. Thi|ther she went, and
the Dogs after her; she ran to hide her self, but the Chamber-maids could not abstain from
Laughing. When she was entred into the House, and had shut the Door upon her self, all the
Dogs came running, of half a League round, and did so well bepiss the Gate of her House, that
there they made a Stream with their Urine, wherein a Duck might have very well swimmed, and
it is the same Current that now runs at St. Victor, in which Gobelin dieth Scarlet, for the
specifical Vertue of these Piss-Dogs, as our Master Do|ribus did heretofore preach publickly. So
may God help you; a Mill would have ground Corn with it; yet not so much as those of Ba|sacle
at Toulouse.
 224

146

CHAP. XXIII. How Pantagruel departed from Paris, hearing News that the Dipsodes had
invaded the Land of the Amaurots: and the Cause wherefore the Leagues are so short in
France.

A Little while after Pantagruel heard News that his Father Gargantua had been translated into
the Land of the Fairies by Morgue, as heretofore were Oger and Arthur: and that the Report of
his Translation being spread abroad, the Dipsodes had issued out beyond their Borders, with
Inrodes had wa|sted a great part of Vtopia, and at that very time had besieged the great City of
the Amau|rots. Whereupon departing from Paris, with|out bidding any Man farewel, for the
Busi|ness required Diligence, he came to Rowen.

Now Pantagruel in his Journey, seeing that the Leagues of that little Territory about Pa|ris,
called France, were very short in regard of those of other Countries, demanded the cause and
reason of it from Panurge; who told him a Story which Marotus du Lac Monachus set down in
the Acts of the Kings of Ca|narre; saying, that in old times Countries were not distinguished into
Leagues, Miles, Furlongs, nor Parasanges, until that King Pharamond divided them, which was
done in 147 manner as followeth. The said King chose at Paris a hundred fair, gallant, lusty,
brisk young Men, all resolute and bold Adventu|rers in Cupid's Duels, together with a hundred
comely, pretty, handsome, lovely and well complexioned Wenches of Picardy, all which he
caused to be well entertained, and highly fed for the space of eight days; then having called for
them, he delivered to every one of the young Men his Wench, with store of Money to defray
their Charges, and this In|junction besides, to go unto divers Places here and there. And
wheresoever they should bi[...]cot and thrum their Wenches, that they setting a Stone there, it
should be accounted for a League. Thus went away those brave Fel|lows and sprightly Blades
most merrily, and because they were fresh, and had been at rest, they were jumming and
tumbling almost at every Field's end, and this is the Cause why the Leagues about Paris are so
short. But when they had gone a great way, and were now as weary as poor Devils, all the Oil in
their Lamps being almost spent, they did not chink and dufle so often, but content|ed themselves,
(I mean for the Mens part) with one scurvy paultry Bout in a day. And this is that which makes
the Leagues in Bri|tany, Delanes, Germany, and other more re|mote Countries so long. Other
Men give o|ther Reasons for it, but this seems to me of all other the best. To which Pantagruel
wil|lingly 148 adhered. Parting from Rowen, they arrived at Honfleur, and there took shipping,
Pantagruel, Panurge, Epistemon, Eusthenes and Carpalim.

In which Place, waiting for a favourable Wind, and caulking their Ship, he received from a Lady
of Paris (that had formerly been kept by him a long time) a Letter directed on the out-side thus:

To the best Beloved of the Fayr, And the least Loyal of the Brave. PNTGRL.
 225

CHAP. XXIV. A Letter which a Messenger brought to Panta|gruel from a Lady of Paris;
together with the Exposition of a Posy, written in a Gold-Ring.

WHen Pantagruel had read the Super|scription, he was much amazed, and therefore demanded
of the said Messenger the Name of her that had sent it. Then open|ed he the Letter, and found
nothing written in it, nor otherways inclosed, but only a Gold Ring, with a square Table-
Diamond. Won|dering at this, he called Panurge to him, and 149 shewed him the case;
whereupon Panurge told him, that the Leaf of Paper was writ|ten upon, but with such Cunning
and Arti|fice, that no Man could see the Writing at the first sight; therefore to find it out, he set it
by the Fire, to see if it was made with Sal Almo|niack soaked in Water: then put he it into the
Water, to see if the Letter was written with the Juice of Tithymalle. After that he held it up
a|gainst the Candle, to see if it was written with the Juice of white Onions.

Then he rubbed one part of it with Oil of Nuts, to see if it were not written with the Lee of a Fig-
tree: and another part of it with the Milk of a Woman giving Suck to her el|dest Daughter, to see
if it was written with the Blood of red Toads, or green Earth-frogs. Afterwards he rubbed one
Corner with the Ashes of a Swallow's Nest, to see if it were not written with the Dew that is
found within the Herb Alcakengy, called the Winter-cherry. He rubbed after that one end with
Ear-wax, to see if it were not written with the Gall of a Raven. Then did he dip it into Vineger, to
try if it was not written with the Juice of the Garden Spurge. After that he greased it with the Fat
of a Bat or Flittermouse, to see if it was not written with the Sperm of a Whale, which some call
Ambergris. Then put it ve|ry fairly into a Basin full of fresh Water, and forthwith took it out, to
see whether it were written with Stone-allum. But after all Expe|riments, 150 when he perceived
that he could find out nothing, he called the Messenger, and asked him, Good Fellow, the Lady
that sent thee hither, did she not give thee a Staff to bring with thee? thinking that it had been
according to the Conceit, whereof Aulus Gel|lius maketh mention; and the Messenger an|swered
him, No, Sir. Then Panurge would have caused his Head to be shaven, to see whe|ther the Lady
had written upon his bald Pate, with the hard Lee whereof Sope is made, that which she meant;
but perceiving that his Hair was very long, he forbore, considering that it could not have grown
to so great a length in so short a time.

Then he said to Pantagruel, Master, by the Virtue of G--- I cannot tell what to do nor say in it.
For to know whether there be any thing written upon this or no, I have made use of a good part
of that which Master Fran|cisco di Nianto, the Tuscan sets down, who hath written the Manner
of reading Letters that do not appear. That which Zoroastes published, Peri grammaton acriton.
And Cal|phurnius Bassus de literis illigibilibus. But I can see nothing, nor do I believe that there
is any thing else in it than the Ring. Let us therefore look upon it; which when they had done,
they found this in Hebrew written with|in, Lamach sabathani; whereupon they called Epistemon,
and asked him what that meant? to which he answered, that they were He|brew 151 Words,
signifying, Wherefore hast thou forsaken me? Upon that Panurge suddenly re|plied, I know the
Mystery, do you see this Diamond? it is a false one. This then is the Exposition of that which the
Lady means, Diamant faux; that is, false Lover, why hast thou forsaken me? Which
Interpretation Pan|tagruel presently understood, and withal re|membering, that at his Departure
he had not bid the Lady farewel; he was very sorry, and would fain have returned to Paris, to
make his Peace with her. But Epistemon put him in mind of Aeneas's Departure from Dido, and
the Saying of Heraclitus of Tarentum, That the Ship being at anchor when need requireth, we
 226

must cut the Cable rather than lose time a|bout untying of it. And that he should lay a|side all
other Thoughts to succour the City of his Nativity, which was then in danger. And indeed within
an Hour after that, the Wind arose at the North North-west; where|with they hoised Sail, and put
out, even into the main Sea; so that within few Days, pas|sing by Porto Sancto, and by the
Maderas, they went Ashore in the Canary Islands: Part|ing from thence, they passed by
Capobianco, by Senege, by Capoverde, by Gambre, by Sa|gres, by Melli, by the Cap di buona
Speranza, and set ashore again in the Kingdom of Me|linda: parting from thence, they sailed
a|way with a Tramoutan or Northerly Wind, passing by Meden, by Vti, by Vden, by Ge|lasim,
152 by the Isles of the Fairies, and alongst the Kingdom of Achory, till at last they arrived at the
Port of Vtopia, distant from the City of the Amaurots three Leagues and some|what more.

When they were ashore, and pretty well refreshed, Pantagruel said, Gentlemen, the City is not
far from hence, therefore were it not amiss before we set forward, to advise well what is to be
done, that we be not like the A|thenians, who never took Counsel until after the Fact: Are you
resolved to live and die with me? Yes, Sir, said they all, and be as con|fident of us, as of your
own Fingers. Well, (said he) there is but one thing that keeps my Mind in great doubt and
suspense, which is this, that I know not in what Order nor of what Number the Enemy is, that
layeth siege to the City; for if I were certain of that, I should go forward, and set on with the
bet|ter assurance. Let us therefore consult toge|ther, and bethink our selves by what means we
may come to this Intelligence. Where|unto they all said, Let us go thither and see, and stay you
here for us; for this very Day, without further respite, do we make account to bring you a certain
Report thereof.

My self (said Panurge) will undertake to enter into their Camp, within the very midst of their
Guards, unespied by their Watch, and merrily feast and lecher it at their cost, with|out being
known of any, to see the Artillery 153 and the Tents of all the Captains, and thrust my self in
with a grave and magnifick Carriage, amongst all their Troops and Companies, with|out being
discovered, the Devil would not be a|ble to peck me out with all his Circumven|tions: for I am of
the Race of Zopyrus.

And I (said Epistemon) know all the Plots and Stratagems of the valiant Captains, and warlike
Champions of former Ages, together with all the Tricks and Subtilties of the Art of War. I will
go, and though I be detected and revealed, I will escape, by making them believe of you
whatever I please; for I am of the Race of Sinon.

I (said Eusthenes) will enter and set upon them in their Trenches, in spight of their Sen|tries, and
all their Guards; for I will tread up|on their Bellies, and break their Legs and Arms, yea though
they were every whit as strong as the Devil himself; for I am of the Race of Hercules.

And I (said Carpalin) will get in there, if the Birds can enter; for I am so nimble of Body, and
light withal, that I shall have leaped over their Trenches, and ran clean through all their Camp,
before that they perceive me: neither do I fear Shot, nor Arrow, nor Horse, how swift soever,
were he the Pegasus of Persee, or [...]acolet, being assured that I shall be able to make a safe and
sound escape before them all without any hurt. I will undertake to walk upon the Ears of Corn, or
Grass in the Mea|dows, without making either of them do so 154 much as bow under me; for I
am of the Race of Camilla the Amazone.
 227

CHAP XXV. How Panurge, Carpalin, Eusthenes and Episte|mon, (the Gentlemen
Attendants of Panta|gruel) vanquished and discomfited six hun|dred and threescore Horse-
men very cun|ningly.

AS he was speaking this, they perceived six hundred and threescore light Horse-men, gallantly
mounted, who came to discover what Ship and Company it was that was newly arrived in the
Harbour; and came in a full Gallop to take them if they had been able. Then said Pantagruel, my
Lads, re|tire your selves unto the Ship, here are some of our Enemies coming apace, but I will
kill them here before you like Beasts, although they were ten times so many; in the mean time
withdraw your selves, and take your sport at it. Then answered Panurge, No, Sir, there is no
reason that you should do so; but on the contrary, retire you unto the Ship, both you and the rest;
for I alone will here discomfit them, but we must not linger, come, set forward. Whereunto the
others said, It is well advised; Sir, withdraw your self, and we will help Panurge here, so shall
you know 155 what we are able to do. Then said Pantagruel, Well, I am content, but if that you
be too weak, I will not fail to come to your assi|stance.

With this Panurge took two great Cables of the Ship, and tied them to the Capstane which was
on the Deck towards the Hatches, and fastned them in the Ground, making a long Circuit, the one
further off, the other within that. Then said he to Epistemon, Go aboard the Ship, and when I give
you a Call, turn about the Capstane upon the Or|lop diligently, drawing unto you the two Ca|ble-
robes. And said to Eusthenes, and to Car|palin, My Bullies, stay you here, and offer your selves
freely to your Enemies, do as they bid you, and make as if you would yield unto them: but take
heed you come not within the Compass of the Ropes; be sure to keep your selves free of them.
And presently he went aboard the Ship, and took a Bundle of Straw, and a Barrel of Gun-
powder, strewed it round about the Compass of the Cords, and stood by with a Brand of Fire or
Match lighted in his Hand. Presently came the Horse-men with great Fury, and the foremost ran
almost home to the Ship; and by reason of the Slipperiness of the Bank, they fell they and their
Horses, to the number of four and fourty; which the rest seeing, came on, think|ing that
Resistance had been made them at their arrival. But Panurge said unto them, 156 My Masters, I
believe that you have hurt your selves; I pray you pardon us, for it is not our Fault, but the
Slipperiness of the Sea-water that is always flowing: we sub|mit our selves to your good
pleasure: So said likewise his two other Fellows, and E|pistemon that was upon the Deck. In the
mean time, Panurge withdrew himself, and seeing that they were all within the Com|pass of the
Cables, and that his two Compa|nions were retired, making room for all those Horses which
came in a Croud, thronging up|on the Neck of one another to see the Ship, and such as were in it,
cried out on a sudden to Epistemon, Draw, draw. Then began E|pistemon to wind about the
Capstane, by do|ing whereof the two Cables so intangled and impestered the Legs of the Horses,
that they were all of them thrown down to the Ground easily, together with their Riders. But they
seeing that, drew their Swords, and would have cut them. Whereupon Panurge set Fire to the
Train, and there burnt them up all like damned Souls, both Men and Horses, not one escaping
save one alone; who being mounted on a fleet Turky Cour|ser, by meer speed in Flight got
himself out of the Circle of the Ropes. But when Carpalin perceived him, he ran after him with
such Nimbleness and Celerity, that he overtook him in less than a hundred Pa|ces; than leaping
 228

close behind him up|on 157 the Crupper of his Horse, clasped him in his Arms, and brought him
back to the Ship.

This Exploit being ended, Pantagruel was very jovial, and wondrously commended the Industry
of these Gentlemen, whom he called his Fellow-Souldiers, and made them re|fresh themselves,
and feed well and merrily upon the Sea-shore, and drink heartily with their Bellies upon the
Ground, and their Pri|soner with them, whom they admitted to that Familiarity; only that the poor
Devil was not well assured but that Pantagruel would have eaten him up whole; which,
considering the Wideness of his Mouth, and Capacity of his Throat, was no great mat|ter for him
to have done; for he could have done it, as easily as you would eat a small Comfit, he shewing no
more in his Throat than would a Grain of Millet-Seed in the Mouth of an Ass.

158

CHAP. XXVI. How Pantagruel and his Company were weary in eating still salt Meats: and
how Carpa|lin went a hunting to have some Venison.

THus as they talked and chatted together, Carpalin said, And by the Belly of St. Quenet, shall
we never eat any Venison? this salt Meat makes me horribly dry. I will go fetch you a Quarter of
one of those Horses which we have burnt, it is well roasted already. As he was rising up to go
about it, he perceived under the side of a Wood a fair great Roe-Buck, which was come out of his
Fort (as I conceive) at the sight of Panurge's fire. Him did he pur|sue and run after with as much
Vigour and Swiftness as if it had been a Bolt out of a Cross|bow, and caught him in a moment;
and whilst he was in his Course, he with his Hands took in the Air four great Bustards, seven
Bit|terns, six and twenty gray Partridges, two and thirty red legged Ones, sixteen Pheasants,
nine Woodcocks, nineteen Herons, two and thirty Coushots and Ring-Doves: and with his Feet
killed ten or twelve Hares and Rabbets, which were then at relief, and pretty big withal.
Eigh|teen Rayles in a knot together, with fifteen young wild Boars, two little Bevers, and three
great Foxes. So striking the Kid with his Fau|chion 159 athwart the Head, he killed him, and
bea|ring him on his Back, he in his return took up his Hares, Rayls, and young wild Boa[...]s, and
as far off as he could be heard, cried out, and said, Panurge, my Friend, Vineger, Vineger. Then
the good Pantagruel, thinking he had fainted, commanded them to provide him some Vineger.
But Panurge knew well that there was some good Prey in hands, and forthwith shewed unto
noble Pantagruel how he was bearing upon his Back a fair Roe-Buck, and all his Girdle bordered
with Hares; then imme|diately did Epistemon make in the name of the nine Muses, nine antick
wooden Spits. Eust|henes did help to flay, and Panurge placed two great Cuirasier Saddles in
such sort, that they served for Andirons; and making their Priso|ner to be their Cook, they roasted
their Veni|son by the Fire, wherein the Horsemen were burnt. And making great C[...]ear, with a
good deal of Vineger, the Devil a one of them did forbear from his Victuals; it was a triumphant
and incomparable Spectacle to see how they ra|vened and devoured. Then said Pantagruel,
Would to God every one of you had two Pairs of Sacring Bells hanging at your Chin, and that I
had at mine the great Clocks of Ren[...]s, of Poit[...]ers, of Tours, and of Cambray, to see what a
Peal they would [...]ing with the Wagging of our Chaps.
 229

But, said Panurge, it were better we thought a little upon our business, and by what means 160
we might get the upper hand of our Enemies· That is well remembred, said Pantagruel; therefore
spoke he thus to the Prisoner, My Friend, tell us here the truth, and do not lie to us at all, if thou
wouldest not be slayed alive, for it is I that eat the little Children: relate un|to us at full, the
Order, the Number, and the Strength of the Army. To which the Prisoner answered, Sir, know for
a truth that in the Ar|my there are three hundred Giants, all armed with Armour of proof, and
wonderful great: nevertheless, not fully so great as you, except one that is their head, named
Loup-garou, who is armed from Head to Foot with Cyclopical Annvils. Furthermore, one
hundred three|score and three thousand Foot, all armed with the Skins of Hobgoblins, strong and
valiant Men; eleven thousand four hundred Cuirasiers; three thousand six hundred double
Canons, and Harque-busiers without number; fourscore and fourteen thousand Pioneers: one
hundred and fifty thousand Whores· fair like Goddesses, (that is for me, said Panurge.) Whereof
some are Amazons, some Lionnoises, others Parisien|nes, Taurangelles, Angevines· Poictevines,
Nor|mands, and high Dutch; there are of them of all Countrys and all Languages.

Yea, but (said Pantagruel) is the King there? Yes, Sir, (said the Prisoner) he is there in Person,
and we call him Anarchus, King of the Dipsodes; which is as much to say, as thirsty People; for
you never saw Men more 161 thirsty, nor more willing to drink; and his Tent is guarded by the
Giants. It is enough, (said Pantagruel) come brave Boys, are you re|solved to go with me? To
which Panurge an|swered, God confound him that leaves you. I have already bethought my self
how I will kill them all like Pigs, and so that the Devil one Leg of them shall escape. But I am
somewhat troubled about one thing. And what is that? said Pantagruel: It is (said Panurge) how
I shall be able to set forward to the jusling and bragmardising of all the Whores that be there this
Afternoon, in such sort, that there escape not one unbumped by me; breasted and jum'd after the
ordinary Fashion of Man and Women. Ha, ha, ha, ha, said Pantagruel.

And Carpalin said, The Devil take these Sink-holes, if by G--- I do not bumbast some one of
them.

And I, (said Eusthenes) what d'ye make of me? who since we came from Rowen have never been
wound up that my Needle could mount above to ten or eleven a Clock, now stiff and strong, like
a hundred Devils? Truly, (said Panurge) thou shalt have of the fattest, and of those that are most
plump, and in the case.

How now, (said Epistemon) every one shall ride, and I must lead the Ass? the Devil take him
that will do so. We will make use of the right of War, Qui potest capere, capiat. No, no, said
Panurge, but tie thine Ass to a Crook, 162 and ride as the World doth. And the good Pantagruel
laughed at all this, and said unto them, You reckon without your Host. I am much afraid, that
before it be Night I shall see you in such taking, that you will have no great sto|mach to ride· but
more like to be rode upon, with sound Blows of Pike and Lance.

Enough of that, said Epistemon, I will not fall to bring them to you, either to rost or boil, to fry or
put in Paste. They are not so many in number as were in the Army of Xerxes; for he had thirty
hundred thousand sighting Men, if you will believe Herodotus and Tro|gus Pompeius; and yet
Themistocles with a few Men overthrew them all. For God's sake take you no care for that.
Cobsminnie, Cobsminnie, (said Panurge) my Cod-piece alone shall suffice to overthrow all the
 230

Men: and St. Sweephole that dwells within it, shall lay all the Women squat upon their Backs. Up
then my Lads (said Pantagruel) and let us march along.

163

CHAP. XXVII. How Pantagruel set up one Trophee in memorial of their Valour, and
Panurge another in re|membrance of the Hares. How Pantagruel likewise with his Farts
begat little Men, and with his Fisgs little Women. And how Panurge broke a great Staff
over two Glasses.

BEfore we depart hence, (said Pantagruel) in remembrance of the Exploit that you have now
performed, I will in this Place erect a fair Trophee. Then every Man amongst them with great
Joy, and fine little Country-Songs, set up a huge big Post; whereunto they hanged a great
Cuirasier Saddle, the Fronstal of a barbed Horse, Bridle-bosses, Pully-pieces for the Knees,
Stir|rup-leathers, Spurs, Stirrups, a Coat of Male, a Corslet tempered with Steel, a Battel-axe, a
strong, short, and sharp Horseman's Sword; a Gantlet, a Horseman's Mace, Gushet-armour for
the Arms-pits, Leg-harness, and a Gorget, with all other Furniture needful for a triumphant Arch,
or Trophee. And then Pantagruel for an eternal Memorial, wrote this victorial Ditton, as
followeth:

Here four bold Champions had a Rubbers

With sixty, and six hundred Lubbers;
Destroy'd 'em all, yet when they fought 'em,
Had not their Arms, but Wits about 'em:
164 So play'd the Skoundrels such a Trick,
Old Scipio never knew the like.
Learn hence, Kings, Dukes, all, great and little;
'Tis Wit, not Strength, that wins the Battle.

For Victorie,
As all agree,
Hangs on the Beck
Of Pow'rs above,
Who surely move
The Proud to check.

The Strong are baffl'd, without question,

Or doubt of any that's a Christian.
And he ('tis only he) can have it,
 231

Who has the Grace, and Faith to crave it.

Whilst Pantagruel was writing these foresaid Verses, Panurge halved, and fixed upon a great
Stake, the Horns of a Roe-buck, together with the Skin, and the right Fore[...]oot thereof; the Ears
of three Levrets, the Chine of a Coney, the Jaws of a Hare, the Wings of two Bu|stards, the Feet
of four Queest-doves, a Bottle full of Vineger, a Horn wherein to put Salt, a wooden Spit, a
larding Stick, a scurvy Kettle full of Holes, a dripping Pan, a Skillet to make Sauce in, an earthen
Salt-cellar, and a Goblet of Beauvais. Then in Imitation of Pantagru|el's Verses and Trophee,
wrote that which fol|loweth:

Here four brave Topers sitting on their Bums,

With Flaggons, nobler Noise than Drums,
165 Carows'd it, bows'd it, toss'd the Liquor,
Each seem'd a Bacchus-Priest, or Vicar:
Hares, Coneys, Bustards, Pigs were brought 'em,
With Jugs and Pipkins strew'd about 'em;
For Trophee-Spoils to each good Fellow.
That is hereafter to be Mellow.

In every Creed,
'Tis on all hands agreed,
And plainly confest;
When the Weather is hot,
That we stick to the Pot,
And drink o' the best.

First note, that in your Bill of Fare,

Sawce be provided for the Rare.
But Vinegar the most extol;
'Tis of an Hare the very Soul.

Then (said Pantagruel), Come, my Lads, let us be gone, we have stayed here too long a|bout our
Victuals; for very seldom doth it fall out, that the greatest Eaters do the most Martial Exploits.
There is no Shadow like that of fly|ing Colours, no Smoke like that of Horses, no Clattering like
that of Armour. At this E|pistemon began to smile, and said, There is no Shadow like that of the
Kitchin, no Smoke like that of Pasties, and no Clattering like that of Goblets. Unto which
answered Panurge, There is no Shadow like that of Courtains, no Smoke like that of Womens
Breasts, and no Clattering like that of Ballocks: then forthwith rising 166 up he gave a Fart, a
Leap, and a Whistle, and most joyfully cried out aloud, Ever live, Panta|gruel. When Pantagruel
 232

saw that, he would have done as much; but with the Fart that he let, the Earth trembled nine
Leagues about; wherewith, and with the corrupted Air, he begot above three and fifty thousand
little Men, ill favoured Dwarfs; and with one Fisg that he let, he made as many little Women,
crouching down, as you shall see in divers places, which never grow but like Cows Tails
downwards, or like the Li|mosin Radishes, round. How now, (said Pa|nurge) are your Farts so
fertil? by G--- here be brave farted Men, and fisgued Women; let them be married together, they
will beget fine Hornets and Dorflies. So did Pantagruel, and called them Pigmies. Those he sent
to live in an Island thereby, where since that time they are increased mightily: but the Cranes
make War with them continually, against which they do most couragiously defend themselves;
for these little Ends of Men and Dandiprats, (whom in Scotland they call Whiphandles, and
Knots of a Tar-barrel) are commonly very teasty and cho|lerick. The Physical Reason whereof,
is, be|cause their Heart is near their Turd.

At this same time, Panurge took two drink|ing Glasses that were there, both of one bigness, and
filled them with Water up to the brim, and set one of them upon one Stool, and the other upon
another, placing them above five Foot from one another: then he took the Staff of a 167 Javelin,
about five Foot and a half long, and put it upon the two Glasses, so that the two ends of the Staff
did come just to the Brims of the Glasses. This done, he took a great Stake, and said to
Pantagruel, and to the rest; My Masters, behold, how easily we shall have the Victory over our
Enemies; for just as I shall break this Staff here upon these Glasses, with[...]out either breaking or
crazing of them; nay, which is more, without spilling one drop of the Water that is within them,
even so shall we break the Heads of our Dipsodes, without receiving any of us any Wound or
Loss in our Person or Goods. But that you may not think there is any Witchcraft in this, hold
(said he to Eusthenes) strike upon the midst as hard as thou canst with this Log. Eusthenes did
so, and the Staff broke in two pieces, and not one drop of the Water fell out of the Glasses. Then
said he, I know a great many such other Tricks, let us now therefore march boldly.

CHAP. XXVIII. How Pantagruel got the Victory very strangely over the Dipsodes, and the
Giants

AFter all this Talk Pantagruel took the Pri|soner to him, and sent him away, saying, Go thou
unto thy King in his Camp, and tell him Tidings of what thou hast seen, and let 168 him resolve
to feast me to Morrow about Noon; for as soon as my Galleys shall come, which will be to
Morrow at farthest, I will prove unto him by eighteen hundred Thou|sand fighting Men, and
seven thousand Gi|ants, all of them greater than I am; that he hath done foolishly and against
Reason, thus to invade my Country: wherein Pantagruel feigned that he had an Army at Sea. But
the Prisoner answered, That he would yield him|self to be his Slave; and that he was content
never to return to his own People, but rather with Pantagruel to fight against them; and for God's
sake besought him, that he might be permitted so to do. Whereunto Pantagruel would not give
Consent, but commanded him to depart thence speedily, and be gone, as he had told him, and to
that Effect gave him a Box full of Euphorbium, together with some Grains of the black
Chameleon Thistle, steeped in Aqua vitae, and made up into the Condiment of a wet Sucket,
commanding him to carry it to his King, and to say unto him, that if he were able to eat one
 233

Ounce of that without drinking after it, he might then be able to resist him, without any Fear or
Appre|hension of Danger.

The Prisoner then besought him with joint Hands, that in the Hour of the Battel he would have
Compassion upon him. Whereat Pan|tagruel said unto him, After that thou hast delivered all
unto the King, put thy whole 169 Confidence in God, and he will not forsake thee: Because,
although for my Part I be mighty, as thou mayst see, and have an infi|nite Number of Men in
Arms, I do neverthe|less trust neither in my Force nor in mine In|dustry, but all my Confidence is
in God my Protector, who doth never forsake those that in him do put their Trust and
Confidence. This done, the Prisoner requested him that he would be contented with some
reasonable Composition for his Ransom. To which Pan|tagruel answered, that his End was not
to rob nor ransom Men, but to enrich them, and re|duce them to total Liberty: Go thy way (said
he) in the Peace of the living God, and ne|ver follow evil Company, lest some Mischief befal
thee. The Prisoner being gone, Panta|gruel said to his Men, Gentlemen, I have made this
Prisoner believe that we have an Army at Sea, as also that we will not assault them till to
Morrow at Noon, to the end, that they doubt|ing of the great Arrival of our Men, may spend this
Night in providing and strengthning themselves; but in the mean time my Inten|tion is, that we
charge them about the Hour of the first Sleep.

Let us leave Pantagruel here with his Apo|stles, and speak of King Anarchus and his Ar|my.
When the Prisoner was come, he went unto the King, and told him how there was a great Giant
come, called Pantagruel, who had overthrown, and made to be cruelly roasted 170 all the six
hundred and fifty nine Horsemen, and he alone escaped to bring the News. Be|sides that, he was
charged by the said Giant to tell him, that the next Day about Noon he must make a Dinner ready
for him, for at that Hour he was resolved to set upon him. Then did he give him that Box wherein
were those Confitures; but as soon as he had swallowed down one spoonful of them, he was
taken with such a Heat in the Throat, together with an Ulceration in the Flap of the Top of the
Wind-pipe, that his Tongue peel'd with it in such Sort, that for all they could do unto him, he
found no Ease at all, but by drinking only without Cessation: for as soon as ever he took the
Goblet from his Head, his Tongue was on a Fire; and therefore they did nothing but still pour in
Wine into his Throat with a Funnel.

Which when his Captains, Bashaws, and Guard of his Body did see, they tasted of the same
Drugs, to try whether on them they would have the same Operation or no: but it so befel them as
it had done their King; and they plied the Flagon so well, that the Noise ran throughout all the
Camp, how the Priso|ner was returned; that the next Day they were to have an Assault; that the
King and his Captains did already prepare themselves for it, together with his Guards, and that
with ca|rowsing lustily, and quaffing as hard as they could. Every Man therefore in the Army
be|gan to tipple, ply the Pot, swill and guzzle, 171 till in fine they fell asleep like Pigs, all out of
Order throughout the whole Camp.

Let us now return to the good Pantagruel, and relate how he carried himself in this Busi|ness.
Departing from the Place of the Tro|phies, he took the Mast of their Ship in his Hand like a
Pilgrim's Staff, and put within the Top of it two hundred and thirty seven Punchions of White-
wine of Anjou, the rest was of Rowen; and tied up to his Girdle the Bark all full of Salt, as easily
as the Lansken|nets carry their little Panniers; and so set on|ward on his way with his Fellow-
 234

souldiers. When he was come near to the Enemies Camp, Panurge said unto him, Sir, if you
would do well, let down this White-wine of Anjou from the Scuttle of the Mast of the Ship, that
we may all drink thereof, like Bri|tains.

Hereunto Pantagruel very willingly consent|ed, and they drank so neat, that there was not so
much as one poor Drop left of two hun|dred and thirty seven Punchions, except one leathern
Bottle of Tours, which Panurge filled for himself, (for he called that his Vade me|cum) and some
scurvy Lees of Wine in the bottom, which served him in stead of Vine|gar. After they had
whitled and curried the Can pretty handsomly, Panurge gave Panta|gruel to eat some devilish
Drugs, compound|ed of Lithotripton, Nephrocatarticon, the Marmalade of Quinces, with
Cantharides, and 172 other Diureticks. This done, Pantagruel said to Carpalin, Go into the City,
scrambling like a Cat up against the Wall, as you can well do, and tell them that now presently
they come out, and charge their Enemies as rudely as they can; and having said so, come down,
taking a lighted Torch with you, wherewith you shall set on fire all the Tents and Pavilions in the
Camp; then cry as loud as you are able with your great Voice, and then come away from thence.
Yea but, said Carpalin, were it not good to nail all their Ordnance? No, no, (said Pantagruel)
only blow up all their Powder. Carpalin obeying him, departed suddenly, and did as he was
appointed by Pan|tagruel; and all the Combatants came forth that were in the City: And when he
had set fire in the Tents and Pavilions, he pass'd so lightly through them, and so highly and
pro|foundly did they snort and sleep, that they ne|ver perceived him. He came to the Place where
their Artillery was, and set their Munition on fire; but here was the Danger, the Fire was so
sudden, that poor Carpalin had almost been burnt· and had it not been for his won|derful Agility,
he had been fried like a roasting Pig; but he departed away so speedily, that a Bolt or Arrow out
of a Crossbow could not have had a swifter Motion. When he was clear of their Trenches, he
shouted aloud, and cried out so dreadfully, and with such Amaze|ment to the Hearers, that it
seemed all the 173 Devils of Hell had been let loose. At which Noise the Enemies awaked, but
can you tell how? even no less astonished than are Monks at the ringing of the first Peal to
Matins, which in Lusonnois is called Rubbalock.

In the mean time Pantagruel began to sow the Salt that he had in his Bark, and because they
slept with an open gaping Mouth, he filled all their Throats with it, so that those poor Wretches
were by it made to cough like Foxes. Ha, Pantagruel, how thou addest greater Heat to the
Firebrand that is in us. Suddenly Pantagruel had will to piss, by Means of the Drugs which
Panurge had given him, and piss'd amidst the Camp so well and so copiously, that he drowned
them all, and there was a particular Deluge ten Leagues round about; the History saith, if his
Father's great Mare had been there, and piss'd likewise, it would undoubtedly have been a more
enor|mous Deluge than that of Deucalion; for she did never piss but she made a River, greater
than is either the Rhosne or the Danube; which those that were come out of the City, see|ing,
said, They are all cruelly slain, see how the Blood runs along: but they were deceived, in
thinking Pantagruel's Urine had been the Blood of their Enemies; for they could not see but by
the Light of the Fire of the Pavilions, and some small Light of the Moon.

The Enemies after that they were awaked, seeing on one side the Fire in the Camp, and 174 on
the other the Inundation of the urinal De|luge, could not tell what to say, nor what to think: Some
said, that it was the End of the World, and the final Judgment, which ought to be by Fire. Others
 235

again thought, that the Sea-Gods, Neptune, Protheus, Triton, and the rest of them, did persecute
them, for that indeed they found it to be like Sea-water and Salt.

O who were able now condignly [...]o relate how Pantagruel did demean himself against the
three hundred Giants: O my Muse, my Calliope, my Thalia, inspire me at this time, restore unto
me my Spirits, for this is the Lo|gical Bridg of Asses; here is the Pit[...]al, here is the Difficulty,
to have Ability enough to express the horrible Battel that was fought: Ah, would to God that I
had now a Bottle of the best Wine that ever those drank who shall read this so veridical History.

CHAP. XXIX. How Pantagruel discomfited the three hundred Giants armed with Free-
stone, and Loupga|rou their Captain.

THE Giants seeing all their Camp drown|ed, carried away their King Anarchus upon their Backs,
as well as they could out of the Fort, as Aenea[...] did to his Father An|chises, 175 in the time of
the Conflagration of Troy. When Panurge perceived them, he said to Pantagruel, Sir· yonder are
the Giants co|ming forth against you, lay on them with your Mast gallantly, like an old Fencer;
for now is the time that you must shew your self a brave and an honest Man: And for our part we
will not fail you; I my self will kill to you a good many boldly enough; for why, David killed
Goliah very easily; and then this great Lecher Eusthenes, who is stronger than four Oxen, will
not spare himself: Be of good Courage therefore, and valiant; charge a|mongst them with Point
and Edg, and by all manner of Means. Well, (said Pantagruel) of Courage I have more than for
fifty Franks; but let us be wise· for Hercules never under|took against two that is well cack'd,
well scum|mered: (said Panurge) do you compare your self with Hercules? You have by G---
more Strength in your Teeth, and more Scent in your Burn, than ever Hercules had in all his
Body and Soul: so much is a Man worth as he esteems himself. Whilst they spake those Words,
behold Loupgarou was come with all his Giants, who seeing Pantagruel in a manner alone, was
carried away with Temerity and Presumption, for Hopes that he had to kill the good Man:
whereupon he said to his Com|panions the Giants, You Wenchers of the Low-countrey, by
Mahoon, if any of you un|dertake to fight against these Men here, I will 176 put you cruelly to
Death: It is my Will that you let me fight single; in the mean time you shall have good Sport to
look upon us. Then all the other Giants retired with their King to the Place where the Flagons
stood, and Panurge and his Camerades with them, who counter|feited those that have had the
Pox, for he wreathed about his Mouth, shrunk up his Fin|gers, and with a harsh and hoarse Voice
said unto them, I forsake ---od (Fellow-souldiers) if I would have it to be believed, that we make
any War at all; give us somewhat to eat with you, whilst our Masters fight against one another.
To this the King and Giants jointly condescended, and accordingly made them to banquet with
them.

In the mean time Panurge told them the Follies of Turpin, the Examples of St. Ni|cholas, and the
Tale of a Tub. Loupgarou then set forward towards Pantagruel, with a Mace all of Steel, and that
of the best sort, weighing nine thousand seven hundred Kin|tals, and two Quarterons, at the End
whereof were thirteen pointed Diamonds, the least whereof was as big as the greatest Bell of our
Ladies Church at Paris, (there might want perhaps the Thickness of a Nail, or (at most that I may
 236

not lie) of the Back of those Knives which they call Cut-lugs, but for a little off or on, more or
less, it is no Matter) and it was inchanted in such sort, that it could never break, but contrarily all
that it did touch did 177 break immediately. Thus then as he appoach|ed with great Fierceness
and Pride of Heart, Pantagruel casting up his Eyes to Heaven, re|commended himself to God
with all his Soul, making such a Vow as followeth;

O thou Lord God, who hast always been my Protector and my Saviour, thou seest the Distress
wherein I am at this Time: Nothing brings me hither but a natural Zeal, which thou hast
permitted unto Mortals; to keep and defend themselves, their Wives and Chil|dren, Country and
Family, in case thy own proper Cause were not in question, which is the Faith; for in such a
Business thou wilt have no Coadjutors, only a Catholick Con|fession and Service of thy Word,
and hast forbidden us all Arming and Defence: for thou art the Almighty, who in thine own
Cause, and where thine own Business is taken to Heart, canst defend it far beyond all that we can
conceive; thou who hast thousand thousands of hundreds of Millions of Legi|ons of Angels, the
least of which is able to kill all mortal Men, and turn about the Hea|vens and Earth at his
Pleasure, as heretofore it very plainly appeared in the Army of Sen|nacherib. If it may please
thee therefore at this time to assist me, as my whole Trust and Confidence is in thee alone, I vow
unto thee, that in all Countries whatsoever, where|in I shall have any Power or Authority,
whe|ther in this of Vtopia, or elsewhere, I will 178 cause thy holy Gospel to be purely, simply
and entirely preached; so that the Abuses of a Rabble of Hypocrites and false Prophets, who by
humane Constitutions and depraved Inventions have impoisoned all the World, shall be quite
exterminated from about me.
This Vow was no sooner made, but there was heard a Voice from Heaven, saying, Hoc f[...]c, &
vinces; that is to say, Do this, and thou shalt overcome.

Then Pantagruel seeing that Loupgarou with his Mouth wide open was drawing near to him,
went against him boldly, and cried out as loud as he was able, Thou diest, Villain, thou diest;
purposing by his horrible Cry to make him afraid, according to the Discipline of the
Lacedemonians. Withal, he immedi|ately cast at him out of his Bark which he wore at his Girdle,
eighteen Cags, and four Bushels of Salt, wherewith he filled both his Mouth, Throat, Nose and
Eyes. At this Loup|garou was so highly incensed, that most fierce|ly setting upon him, he
thought even then with a Blow of his Mace to have beat out his Brains: but Pantagruel was very
nimble, and had always a quick Foot and a quick Eye, and therefore with his left Foot did he step
back one Pace, yet not so nimbly, but that the Blow falling upon the Bark, broke it in four
thou|sand fourscore and six Pieces, and threw all the rest of the Salt about the Ground.
Pantagruel seeing that, most gallantly displayed the Vi|gour 179 of his Arms, and according to
the Art of the Axe, gave him with the great End of his Mast a home-thrust a little above the
Breast; then bringing along the Blow to the left side with a Slash, struck him between the Neck
and Shoulders: After that, advancing his right Foot, he gave him a Push upon the Couillons, with
the upper End of his said Mast, wherewith breaking the Scuttle, on the Top thereof he spilt three
or four Punchions of Wine that were left therein.

Upon that Loupgarou thought that he had pierced his Bladder, and that the Wine that came forth
had been his Urine: Pantagruel being not content with this, would have dou|bled it by a side-
blow; but Loupgarou lifting up his Mace, advanced one Step upon him, and with all his Force
 237

would have dash'd it upon Pantagruel, wherein (to speak the Truth) he so sprightfully carried
himself, that if God had not succoured the good Pantagru|el, he had been cloven from the top of
his Head to the bottom of his Milt; but the Blow glanced to the right side by the brisk
Nimble|ness of Pantagruel, and his Mace sank into the Ground above threescore and thirteen
Foot, through a huge Rock, out of which the Fire did issue greater than nine thousand and six
Tuns. Pantagruel seeing him busy about plucking out his Mace, which stuck in the Ground
between the Rocks, ran upon him, and would have clean cut off his Head, if by 180 Mischance
his Mast had not touched a little a|gainst the Stock of Loupgarou's Mace, which was inchanted,
as we have said before: by this means his Mast broke off about three-hand|fuls above his Hands,
whereat he stood amazed like a Bell-founder, and cried out, Ah Pa|nurge, where art thou?
Panurge seeing that, said to the King and the Giants, By G--- they will hurt one another if they
be not parted; but the Giants were as merry as if they had been at a Wedding: Then Carpalin
would have risen from thence to help his Master, but one of the Giants said unto him, By
Golfarin the Nephew of Mahoon, if thou stir hence I will put thee in the bottom of my Breeches
in|stead of a Suppository, which cannot chuse but do me good; for in my Belly I am very costive,
and cannot well cagar without gnash|ing my Teeth, and making many filthy Faces.

Then Pantagruel, thus destitute of a Staff, took up the End of his Mast, striking athwart and
alongst upon the Giant, but he did him no more hurt than you would do with a Filip upon a
Smith's Anvil. In the time Loupga|rou was drawing his Mace out of the Ground, and having
already plucked it out, was ready therewith to have struck Pantagruel, who be|ing very quick in
turning, avoided all his Blows in taking only the defensive Part in hand, until on a sudden he saw
that Loupgarou did threaten him with these Words, saying, Now, Villain, will no[...] I fail to chop
thee a[...] 181 small as minced Meat, and keep thee henceforth from [...] ver making any more
poor Men athirst. Then without any more ado Pantagruel struck him such a Blow with his Foot
against the Bel|ly, that he made him fall backwards, his Heels over his Head, and dragged him
thus along at flay-buttock above a flight-shot. Then Loupgarou cried out, bleeding at the Throat,
Mahoon, Mahoon, Mahoon, at which Noise all the Giants arose to succour him; but Pa|nurge
said unto them, Gentlemen, do not go, if you will believe me, for our Master is mad, and strikes
athwart and alongst, he cares not where, he will do you a Mischief; but the Giants made no
Account of it, seeing that Pantagruel had never a Staff.

And when Pantagruel saw those Giants ap|proach very near unto him, he took Loupgarou by the
two Feet, and lift up his Body like a Pike in the Air, wherewith (it being harnished with Anvils)
he laid such heavy load amongst those Giants, armed with Free-stone, that striking them down as
a Mason doth little Knobs of Stones, there was not one of them that stood before him, whom he
threw not flat to the Ground; and by the breaking of this stony Ar|mour there was made such a
horrible Rumble, as put me in mind of the Fall of the Butter-tower of St. Stephen's at Bourge,
when it mel|ted before the Sun. Panurge, with Carpalin and Eusthenes, did cut in the mean time
the Throats [...]f those that were struck down; in such sort, 182 that there escaped not one.
Pantagruel to any Man's sight was like a Mower, who with his Sithe, which was Loupgarou, cut
down the Meddow Grass, to wit the Giants. But with this fencing of Pantagruel's, Loupgarou
lost his Head, which happened when Pantagruel struck down one whose Name was
Riflandouille, who was armed cap-a-pe with Grison-stones, one Chip whereof splintring abroad
cut off Episte|mon's Neck clean and fair. For otherwise the most part of them were but lightly
armed with a kind of sandy Brittle-stone, and the rest with Slaits. At last, when he saw that they
 238

were all dead, he threw the Body of Loupgarou as hard as he could against the City, where
falling like a Frog upon his Belly, in the great Piazza, he with the fall killed a singed He-cat, a
wet She-cat, a farting Duck, and a brideled Goose.

CHAP. XXX. How Epistemon, who had his Head cut off, was finely healed by Panurge; and
of the News which he brought from the Devils, and dam|ned People in Hell.

THis Gigantal Victory being ended, Panta|gruel withdrew himself to the place of the Flagons,
and called for Panurge and the rest, who came unto him safe and sound, ex|cept Eusthenes,
(whom one of the Giants had 183 scratched a little in the Face, whilst he was a|bout the cutting
of his Throat) and Episte|mon, who appeared not at all. Whereat Pan|tagruel was so aggrieved
that he would have killed himself. But Panurge said unto him, Nay, Sir, stay a while, and we will
search for him a|mongst the Dead, and find out the truth of all. Thus as they went seeking after
him, they found him stark dead, with his Head between his Arms all bloody. Then Eusthenes
cried out, Ah cruel Death! hast thou taken from me the per|fectest amongst Men? At which
words Panta|gruel rose up with the greatest Grief that ever any Man did see, and said to
Panurge, Ha, my Friend, the Prophecy of your two Glasses, and the Javelin Staff was a great
deal too deceitful. But Panurge answered, My dear Bullies all, weep not one drop more; for he
being yet all hot, I will make him as sound as ever he was. In saying this, he took the Head, and
held it warm fore-gainst his Cod-piece, that the Wind might not enter into it. Eusthenes and
Carpa|lin carried the Body to the place where they had banqueted, not out of any hope that ever
he would recover, but that Pantagruel might see it.

Nevertheless, Panurge gave him very good comfort, saying, If I do not heal him, I will be
content to lose my Head, (which is a Fool's Wager) leave off therefore crying, and help me. Then
cleansed he his Neck very well with pure White-wine; and after that, took his Head, and into it
synapised some Powder of Diamer|dis, 184 which he always carried about him in one of his
Bags. Afterwards, he anointed it with I know not what Ointment, and set it on very just, Vein
against Vein, Sinew against Sinew, and Spondyle against Spondyle, that he might not be Wry-
necked, (for such People he mor|tally hated); this done, he gave it round about some fifteen or
sixteen Stitches with a Needle, that it might not fall off again; then on all sides, and every where,
he put a little Oint|ment on it, which he called Resuscitative.

Suddenly Epistemon began to breath, then opened his Eyes, yawned, sneezed, and after|wards let
a great Houshold-Fart. Whereupon Panurge said, Now certainly he is healed, and therefore gave
him to drink a large full Glass of strong White-wine, with a sugred Toast. In this Fashion was
Epistemon finely healed, only that he was, somewhat hoarse for above three Weeks together, and
had a dry Cough of which he could not be rid, but by the force of continual drinking. And now
he began to speak, and said that he had seen the Devil, had spoken with Lucifer familiarly, and
had been very merry in Hell, and in the Elysian Fields; affirming very seriously before them all,
that the Devils were boon Companions, and mer|ry Fellows: but in respect of the Damned, he
said he was very sorry that Panurge had so soon called him back into this World again; for (said
he) I took wonderful delight to see them. How so, said Pantagruel? because they do not 185 use
 239

them there (said Epistemon) so badly as you think they do. Their Estate and Condi|tion of living
is but only changed after a very strange manner.

For I saw Alexander the Great there men|ding old Stockins, whereby he got but a very poor
Living.

 Xerxes was a Crier of Mustard.

 Romulus, a Salter and Patcher of Patins.
 Numa, a Nail-smith.
 Tarquin, a Porter.
 Piso, a clownish Swaine.
 Sylla, a Ferry-man.
 Cyrus, a Cowheard.
 Themistocles, a Glass-maker.
 Epaminondas, a Maker of Looking-glasses.
 Brutus and Cassius, Surveyors of Land.
 Demosthenes, a Vine-dresser.
 Cicero, a Fire-kindler.
 Fabius, a Threader of Patenotres.
 Artaxerxes, a Rope-maker.
 Aeneas, a Miller.
 Achilles was a scauld-pated Maker of Hay-bundles.
 Agamemnon, a Lick-box.
 Vlysses, a Hay-mower.
 Nestor, a Forester.
 Darius, a Gold-finder.
 Ancus Martius, a Ship-trimmer.
 Camillus, a Foot-post.
 Marcellus, a Sheller of Beans.
 186 Drusus, a Taker of Money at the Doors of Play-houses.
 Scipio Africanus, a Crier of Lee in a Woo|den-slipper.
 Asdrubal, a Lantern-maker.
 Hannibal, a Kettle-maker and Seller of Egg|shells.
 Priamus, a Seller of old Clouts.
 Lancelot of the Lake, was a Flayer of dead Horses.

All the Knights of the Round-table were poor Day-labourers, employed to row over the Ri|vers
of Cocytus, Phlegeton, Styx, Acheron and Lethe, when Messieurs the Devils had a mind to
recreate themselves upon the Water; as in the like Occasion are hired the Boat-men at Lions, the
Gonde[...]eers of Venice, and Oars at London; but with this Difference, that these poor Knights
have only for their Fare a Bob or Flirt on the Nose, and in the Evening a Morsel of coarse
mouldy Bread.

 Trajan was a Fisher of Frogs.

 Antoninus, a Lacquey.
 Commodus, a Jeat-maker.
 240

 Pertinax, a Peeler of Wall-nuts.

 Lucullus, a Maker of Rattles and Hawks-Bells.
 Iustinian, a Pedlar.
 Hector, a Snap-sauce Scullion.
 Paris was a poor Beggar.
 Camlyses, a Mule-driver.
 Nero, a base blind Fidler.
 187 Fierabras was his Serving-man, who did him a thousand mischievous Tricks, and
would make him eat of the brown Bread, and drink of the turned Wine, when himself did
both eat and drink of the best.
 Iulius Caesar and Pompey, were Boat-wrights and Tighters of Ships.
 Valentine and Orson did serve in the Stoves of Hell, and were Sweat-Rubbers in Hot-
houses.
 Giglan and Govian were poor Swineherds.
 Iafrey with the great Tooth, was a Tinder-maker, and Seller of Matches.
 Godfrey de Bullion, a Hood-maker.
 Iason was a Bracelet-maker.
 Don Pietro de Castille, a Carrier of Indul|gences.
 Morgan, a Beer-brewer.
 Huon of Bourdeaux, a Hooper of Barrels.
 Pyrrhus, a Kitchin-scullion.
 Antiochus, a Chimney-sweeper.
 Octavian, a Scraper of Parchment.
 Nerva, a Mariner.
 Pope Iulius was a Crier of Pudding-pies; but he left off wearing there his great buggerly
Beard.
 Iohn of Paris was a Greaser of Boots.
 Arthur of Britain, an Ungreaser of Caps.
 Pierce Forrest, a Carrier of Faggots.
 Pope Boniface the Eighth, a Scummer of Pots.
 Pope Nicholas the third, a Maker of Paper.
 Pope Alexander, a Rat-catcher.
 188 Pope Sixtus, an Anointer of those that have the Pox.

What, (said Pantagruel) have they the Pox there too? Surely (said Epistemon) I never saw so
many; there are there I think above a hundred Millions. For believe, that those who have not had
the Pox in this World, must have it in the other.

Cotsbody (said Panurge) then am I free; for I have been as far as the Hole of Gibralter, reached
unto the outmost Bounds of Hercules, and gathered of the ripest.

 Ogier the Dane was a Furbisher of Armour.

 The King Tigranes, a Mender of thatched Houses.
 Galien Restored, a Taker of Moldwarps.
 The four Sons of Aymon, were all Tooth-drawers.
 Pope Calixtus, was the Barber of a Wo|man's sine quo non.
 241

 Pope Vrban, a Bacon-pecker.

 Melusina was a Kitchin Drudg-Wench.
 Mettabrune, a Laundress.
 Cleopatra, a Crier of Onions.
 Helene, a Broker for Chamber-maids.
 Semiramis, the Beggars Lice-killer.
 Dido did sell Mushroms.
 Pentasilea sold Cresses.
 Lucretia was an Ale-house Keeper.
 Hortensia, a Spinstress.
 Livia, a Grater of Verdigreece.

189 After this manner those that had been great Lords and Ladies here, got but a poor scurvy
wretched Living there below. And on the con|trary, the Philosophers and others, who in this
World had been altogether indigent and wan|ting, were great Lords there in their turn. I saw
Diogenes there strout it out most pom|pously, and in great magnificence, with a rich purple
Gown on him, and a golden Scepter in his Right-hand. And which is more, he would now and
then make Alexander the Great mad, so enormously would he abuse him, when he had not well
patched his Breeches; for he used to pay his Skin with sound Bastinadoes. I saw E|pictetus there
most gallantly apparelled after the French Fashion, sitting under a pleasant Arbour, with store of
handsom Gentlewomen, frolick|ing, drinking, dancing, and making good Chear, with abundance
of Crowns of the Sun. Above the Lattice were written these Verses for his Device:

Sauter, dancer, faire les tours,

Et boiue vin blanc, & vermeil;
Et ne faire rien tous les iours,
Que compter les escuts au soleil.

To dance, to skip, and to play,

The best White and Claret to swill,
And nothing to do all the Day,
But rouling in Money, at will.

When he saw me, he invited me to drink with him very courteously, and I being willing 190 to
be intreated, we ripled and chopined together most Theologically. In the mean time came Cyrus
to beg one Farthing of him for the honour of Mercury, therewith to buy a few Onions for his
Supper. No, no, said Epictetus, I do not use in my Alms-giving to bestow Farthings; hold thou
Varlet, there's a Crown for thee, be an honest Man. Cyrus was exceeding glad to have met with
such a Booty. But the other poor Rogues, the Kings that are there below, as Alexander, Darius,
and others, stole it away from him by night. I saw Pathelin the Treasurer of Rhadaman|tus, who
in cheapning the Pudding-pyes that Pope Iulius cried, asked him, How much a Dozen? Three
Blanks, said the Pope: Nay, (said Pathelin) three Blows with a Cudgel; lay them down here you
 242

Rascal, and go fetch more. The poor Pope went away weeping; who when he came to his Master
the Pye-maker, told him that they had taken away his Pudding-pyes. Whereupon his Master gave
him such a sound Lash with an Eele-skin, that his own would have been worth nothing to make
Bag-pipe-bags of. I saw Master Iohn le Maire, there personate the Pope in such fashion, that he
made all the poor Kings and Popes of this World kiss his Feet; and taking great State upon him,
gave them his Be|nediction, saying, Get the Pardons, Rogues, get the Pardons, they are good
cheap: I absolve you of Bread and Pottage, and dispense with you to be never good for any thing:
then calling Cail|le[...] and Triboulet, to them he spoke these words, 191 My Lords the Cardinals
dispatch their Bulls, to wit, to each of them a Blow with a Cudgel up|on the Reins. Which
accordingly was forth|with performed.

I heard Master Francis Villon ask Xerxes, How much the Mess of Mustard? A Farthing, said
Xer|xes. To which the said Villon answered, The Pox take thee for a Villain: as much of
square|[...]ar'd Wheat is not worth half that Price, and now thou offerest to inhance the Price of
Victu|als; with this he pist in his Pot as the Mustard-makers of Paris use to do. I saw the
Francarcher de Baignolet, who was one of the Inquisition a|gainst Hereticks. When he saw
Pierce-Forrest making water against a Wall, on which was painted the Fire of St. Anthony,
declared him Heretick, and would have caused him to be burnt alive, had it not been for
Morgant, who for his Proficiat and other small Fees, gave him nine Tuns of Beer.

Well, (said Pantagruel) reserve all these fair Stories for another time, only tell us how the
Usurers are there handled. I saw them (said Epistemon) all very busily employed in seeking of
rusty Pins, and old Nails in the Ken|nels of the Streets, as you see poor wretched Rogues do in
this World; but the quintal or hundred Weight of this old Iron Ware, is there valued but at the
price of a Cantle of Bread; and yet they have but a very bad Dis|patch and Riddance in the Sale
of it: Thus the poor Misers are sometimes three whole Weeks 192 without eating one Morsel or
Crumb of Bread, and yet work both Day and Night looking for the fair to come: nevertheless, of
all this Labour, Toil and Misery, they reckon no|thing; so cursedly active they are in the
pro|secution of that their base Calling, in hopes at the end of the Year, to earn some scurvy
Penny by it.

Come, (said Pantagruel) let us now make our selves merry one bout, and drink (my Lads) I
beseech you, for it is very good drin|king all this Month. Then did they uncase their Flagons by
Heaps and Dozens, and with their Leaguer-provision made excellent good Chear. But the poor
King Anarchus could not all this while settle himself to|wards any fit of Mirth: whereupon
Panurge said, Of what Trade shall we make my Lord the King here, that he may be skilful in the
Art, when he goes thither to sojourn, a|mongst all the Devils of Hell? Indeed (said Pantagruel)
that was well advised of thee, do with him what thou wilt: I give him to thee. Grammercy (said
Panurge) the Pre|sent is not to be refused, and I love it from you.

193
 243

CHAP. XXXI. How Pantagruel entred into the City of the A|maurots, and how Panurge
married King Anarchus to an old Lantern-carrying Hag, and made him a Crier of Green-
sauce.

AFter this wonderful Victory, Pantagruel sent Carpalin unto the City of the A|maurots, to
declare and signify unto them how the King Anarchus was taken Prisoner, and all the Enemies of
the City overthrown; which News when they heard, all the Inhabi|tants of the City came forth to
meet him in good order, and with a great triumphant Pomp, conducting him with a heavenly Joy
into the City, where innumerable Bonfires were kindled every-where, and fair round Ta|bles
furnished with store of good Victuals, set out in the middle of the Streets. This was a Renewing
of the Golden-Age: so good was the Cheer which then they made.

But Pantagruel having assembled the whole Senate, and Common-Council-Men of the Town,
said (My Masters) we must now strike the Iron whilst it is hot; it is therefore my Will, that before
we frolick it any longer, we advise how to assault and take the whole Kingdom of the Dipsodes.
To which effect, let those that will go with me provide themselves against to 194 Morrow after
drinking; for then will I begin to march. Not that I need any more Men than I have to help me to
conquer it; for I could make it as sure that way as if I had it already, but I see this City is so full
of Inhabitants, that they scarce can turn in the Streets: I will there|fore carry them as a Colony
into Dipsody, and will give them all that Country, which is fair, wealthy, fruitful and pleasant,
above all other Countries in the World, as many of you can tell who have been there heretofore.
Every one of you therefore that will go along, let him pro|vide himself as I have said. This
Counsel and Resolution being published in the City, the next Morning there assembled in the
Piazza, before the Palace, to the number of Eighteen hundred fifty six thousand and eleven,
besides Women and little Children. Thus began they to march streight into Dipsody, in such
good order as did the People of Israel when they departed out of Egypt, to pass over the Red-sea.

But before we proceed any further, I will tell you how Panurge handled his Prisoner the King
Anarchus. For having remembred that which Epistemon had related, how the Kings and rich Men
in this World were used in the Elysian Fields, and how they got their Living there by base and
ignoble Trades; he therefore one day apparelled his King in a pretty little Canvass Doublet, all
jagged and pinked like the Tippet of a light Horse-man's Cap, together with a Pair of large
Mariner's Breeches, and Stockins 195 without Shoes: For (said he) they would but spoil his
Sight; and a little peach-coloured Bonnet, with a great Capon's Feather in it. I lie, for I think he
had two: and a very handsom Girdle, de pers & vert; saying, that such a Li|very did become him
well, for that he had al|ways been perverse. And in this Plight bring|ing him before Pantagruel,
said unto him, Do you know this Royster? No indeed, said Pan|tagruel. It is (said Panurge) my
Lord, the King of the clowted Hose. I intend to make him an honest Man. These Devils of Kings
here are but as so many Calves; they know no|thing, and are good for nothing but to do a
thousand Mischiefs to their poor Subjects, and to trouble all the World with War for their un|just
and detestable Pleasure. I will put him to a Trade, and make him a Crier of Green-sauce. Go to,
begin and cry; Do you lack any Green-sauce? and the poor Devil cried. That is too low (said
Panurge); then took him by the Ear, saying, Sing higher in Ge, sol, re, ut. So, so, (poor Wretch)
thou hast a good Throat: Thou could'st never have been so happy hadst thou continued longer
King.
 244

And Pantagruel made himself merry with all this. For I dare boldly say, that he was the best little
Gaffer that was to be seen between this and the end of a Staff. Thus was Anarchus made a good
Crier of Green-sauce. Two Days thereafter, Panurge married him with an old Lantern-carrying
Hag; and he himself made 196 the Wedding with fine Sheeps-Heads, brave Haslets with
Mustard, gallant Salligots with Garlick, of which he sent five Horse-loads unto Pantagruel;
which he ate up all, he found them so appetizing. And for their Drink, they had a kind of small
well-watered Wine, and some Sorbapple-cider. And to make them dance, he hired a blind Man
that made Musick to them with a Windbroach.

After Dinner he led them to the Palace, and shewed them to Pantagruel, and said, pointing to the
married Woman, You need not fear that she will crack. Why? said Pantagruel. Be|cause, said
Panurge, she is well slit and broke up already. What do you mean by that? said Pan|tagruel. Do
not you see, said Panurge, that the Chesnuts which are roasted in the Fire, if they be whole, they
crack as if they were mad· and to keep them from cracking, they make an In|cision in them, and
slit them: So this new Bride is in her lower Parts well slit before, and therefore will not crack
behind.

Pantagruel gave them a little Lodg near the Lower-street, and a Mortar of Stone wherein to bray
and pound their Sauce. And in this manner did they do their little Business, he being as pret|ty a
Crier of Green-sauce as ever was seen in the Country of Vtopia. But I have been told since, that
his Wife doth beat him like Plaister, and the poor Sot dares not defend himself, he is so sim|ple.

197

CHAP. XXXII. How Pantagruel with his Tongue covered a whole Army, and what the
Author saw in his Mouth.

THus as Pantagruel with all his Army had entered into the Country of the Dip|sodes, every one
was glad of it, and inconti|nently rendred themselves unto him, bringing him out of their own
good Wills the Keys of all the Cities where he went, the Almirods on|ly excepted; who being
resolved to hold out against him, made answer to his Heraulds that they would not yield but
upon very honoura|ble and good Conditions.

What, (said Pantagruel) do they ask any better Terms than the Hand at the Pot, and the Glass in
their Fist? Come let us go sack them, and put them all to the Sword. Then did they put
themselves in good order, as be|ing fully determined to give an Assault. But by the way passing
through a large Field, they were overtaken with a great Shower of Rain. Whereat they began to
shiver and tremble, to croud, press and thrust close to one ano|ther. When Pantagruel saw that,
he made their Captains tell them, that it was nothing, and that he saw well above the Clouds, that
it would be nothing but a little Dew· but 198 howsoever, that they should put themselves in
order, and he would cover them. Then did they put themselves in a close order, and stood as near
to other as they could; and Pantagruel drew out his Tongue only halfway, and co|vered them all,
as a Hen doth her Chickens.
 245

In the mean time I who relate to you these so veritable Stories, hid my self under a Bur|dock-leaf,
which was not much less in Large|ness than the Arch of the Bridg of Montrible: but when I saw
them thus covered, I went to|wards them to shelter my self likewise, which I could not do; for
that (as the Saying is) at the Yards End there is no Cloth left. Then as well as I could, I got upon
it, and went along full two Leagues upon his Tongue, and so long marched, that at last I came
into his Mouth: But O Gods and Goddesses, what did I see there? Iupiter confound me with his
trisulk Lightning if I lie: I walked there as they do in Sophie at Constantinople, and saw there
great Rocks like the Mountains in Den|mark, I believe that those were his Teeth; I saw also fair
Medows, large Forests, great and strong Cities, not a jot less than Lyons or Poictiers: The first
Man I met with there was a good honest Fellow planting Colworts; whereat being very much
amazed, I asked him, My Friend, what dost thou make here? I plant Colworts, said he: But how,
and wherewith said I? Ha Sir, said he, every one cannot have his Ballocks as heavy as a Mortar;
199 neither can we be all rich: thus do I get my poor Living, and carry them to the Market to sell
in the City which is here behind. Iesus! (said I) is there here a new World? Sure (said he) it is
never a jot new, but it is commonly reported, that without this there is an Earth, whereof the
Inhabitants enjoy the Light of a Sun and a Moon; and that it is full of, and replenished with very
good Commodies; but yet this is more ancient than that. Yea, but (said I) my Friend, what is the
Name of that City whither thou carriest thy Colworts to sell? It is called Alpharage, (said he) and
all the Indwellers are Christians, very honest Men, and will make you good chear. To be brief, I
resolved to go thither. Now in my way I met with a Fellow that was lying in wait to catch
Pigeons, of whom I asked, (My Friend) from whence come these Pigeons? Sir, (said he) they
come from the other World. Then I thought that when Pantagruel yawned, the Pigeons went into
his Mouth in whole Flocks, thinking that it had been a Pigeon-House.

Then I went into the City, which I found fair, very strong, and seated in a good Air; but at my
Entry the Guard demanded of me my Pass or Ticket; whereat I was much asto|nished, and asked
them, (My Masters) is there any Danger of the Plague here? O Lord, (said they) they die hard by
here so fast, that the Cart runs about the Streets. Good God! (said I) and where? whereunto they
answer|ed, 200 That it was in Larinx and Phaerinx, which are two great Cities, such as Rowen
and Nantz, rich and of great Trading: and the Cause of the Plague was by a stinking and
infectious Ex|halation which lately vapoured out of the A|bismes, whereof there have died above
two and twenty hundred and threescore thousand and sixteen Persons within this Seven night.
Then I considered, calculated and found, that it was a rank and unsavoury Breathing, which came
out of Pantagruel's Stomach when he did eat so much Garlick, as we have aforesaid.

Parting from thence I pass'd amongst the Rocks, which were his Teeth, and never left walking till
I got upon one of them, and there I found the pleasantest Places in the World, great large Tennis-
courts, fair Gal|leries, sweet Meddows, store of Vines, and an infinite Number of Banqueting
Summer Out-houses in the Fields, after the Italian Fa|shion, full of Pleasure and Delight, where I
stayed full four Months, and never made bet|ter cheer in my Life as then. After that I went down
by the hinder Teeth to come to the Chaps; but in the way I was robbed by Thieves in a great
Forest that is in the Terri|tory towards the Ears. Then (after a little further travelling) I fell upon a
pretty petty Village, (truly I have forgot the Name of it) where I was yet merrier than ever, and
got some certain Money to live by, can you tell how? by Sleeping: for there they hire Men 201
by the Day to sleep, and they get by it six Pence a Day; but they that can snort hard get at least
Nine-pence. How I had been robbed in the Valley I informed the Senators, who told me that in
 246

very truth the People of that side were bad Livers, and naturally thievish; whereby I perceived
well, that as we have with us the Countreys Cisalpine and Transalpine, so have they there the
Countreys Cidentine and Tradentine, that is, behither and beyond the Teeth: but it is far better
living on this side, and the Air is purer. There I began to think, that it is very true which is
commonly said, that the one half of the World knoweth not how the other half liveth. Seeing
none before my self had ever written of that Coun|try, wherein are above five and twenty
King|doms inhabited, besides Deserts, and a great Arm of the Sea. I have composed a great
Book, intituled, The History of the Gorgians, because they dwell in the Gorge of my Master
Pantagruel.

At last I was willing to return, and passing by his Beard, I cast my self upon his Shoul|ders, and
from thence slid down to the Ground, and fell before him. As soon as I was perceived by him, he
asked me, Whence comest thou, Alcosribas? I answered him, Out of your Mouth, my Lord? And
how long hast thou been there, said he? Since the time (said I) that you went against the
Almi|rods; that is, about six Months ago, said he. 202 And wherewith didst thou live? what didst
thou drink? I answered, My Lord, of the same that you did, and of the daintiest Morsels that
pass'd through your Throat I took Toll. Yea, but said he, where didst thou shite? In your Throat
(my Lord) said I. Ha, ha, thou art a merry Fellow, said he. We have with the Help of God
conquered all the Land of the Dipsodes, I will give thee the Chastellein of Salmigo[...]din.
Grammercy, my Lord, said I, you gratify me beyond all that I have deserved of you.

CHAP. XXXIII. How Pantagruel became sick, and the manner how he was recovered.

A While after this the good Pantagruel fell sick, and had such an Illness in his Sto|mach, that he
could neither eat nor drink: and because Mischief seldom comes alone, he had got also the hot
Piss, which tormented him more than you would believe. His Physicians nevertheless helped him
very well, and with store of Lenitives and diuretick Drugs made him piss away his Pain: His
Urine was so hot, that since that time it is not yet cold; and you have of it in divers Places of
France, accord|ing to the Course that it took, and they are called the hot Baths, as at Coderets; at
Li|mous; 203 at Dast; at Ballervie; at Nerie; at Bourbonansie; and elsewhere. In Italy, at
Mongros; at Appone; at Sancto Petro de Pa|dua; at St. Helen; at Casa Nuova: At St. Bartolomee
in the County of Boulogne: at the Lorrette; and a thousand other Places.

And I wonder much at a Rabble of foolish Philosophers and Physicians, who spend their time in
disputing, whence the Heat of the said Waters cometh, whether it be by reason of Borax, or
Sulphur, or Allum, or Saltpeter, that is within the Mine; for they do nothing but dote, and better
were it for them to rub their Arse against a Thistle, than to waste away their time thus in
disputing of that whereof they know not the Original: for the Resoluti|on is easy, neither need we
to enquire any fur|ther, than that the said Baths came by a [...] Piss of the good Pantagruel.

Now to tell you after what manner he was cured of his principal Disease, I let pass how for a
Minorative, he took four hundred pound Weight of Colophoniack Scammonee; six score and
eighteen Cart-loads of Caffia; eleven thousand and nine hundred pound Weight of Rubarb,
 247

besides other confused Jumblings of sundry Drugs. You must un|derstand, that by the Advice of
the Physicians, it was ordered that what did offend his Sto|mach should be taken away; and
therefore they made seventeen great Balls of Copper, 204 each whereof was bigger than that
which is to be seen on the top of St. Peter's Needle at Rome, and in such sort, that they did open
in the midst, and shut with a Spring. Into one of them entered one of his Men, carrying a
Lan|thorn and a Torch lighted, and so Pantagruel swallowed him down like a little Pill: Into
seven others went seven Country-fellows, ha|ving every one of them a Shovel on his Neck: Into
nine others entred nine Wood-carriers, ha|ving each of them a Basket hung at his Neck, and so
were they swallowed down like Pills: When they were in his Stomach, every one un|did his
Spring, and came out of their Cabins: the first whereof was he that carried the Lan|thorn, and so
they fell more than half a League into a[...]most horrible Gulph, more stinking and infectious than
ever was Mephitis, or the Ma|rishes of Camerina, or the abominably unsavo|ry Lake of Sorbona,
whereof Strabo maketh mention. And had it not been, that they had very well antidoted their
Stomach, Heart and Wine-pot, which is called the Noddle, they had been altogether suffocated
and choaked with these detestable Vapours: O what a Perfume! O what an Evaporation
wherewith to bewray the Masks or Muflers of young mangy Queans! After that with groping and
smelling they came near to the fecal Matter and the corrupted Hu|mours. Finally, they found a
Montjoy, or Heap of Ordure and Filth; then fell the Pio|neers 205 to work to dig it up, and the
rest with their Shovels filled the Baskets; and when all was cleansed, every one retired himself
into his Ball.

This done, Pantagruel enforcing himself to a Vomit, very easily brought them out, and they
made no more shew in his Mouth than a Fart in yours: But when they came merrily out of their
Pills, I thought upon the Grecians coming out of the Trojan Horse. By this Means was [...]he
healed, and brought unto his former State and Convalescence. And of these brazen Pills you
have one at Orleans, upon the Stee|ple of the Holy Cross Church.

CHAP. XXXIV. The Conclusion of this present Book, and the Excuse of the Author.

NOw (my Masters) you have heard a Be|ginning of the horrifick History of my Lord and Master
Pantagruel. Here will I make an end of the first Book. My Head aches a little, and I perceive that
the Registers of my Brain are somewhat jumbled and disordered with this Septembral Iuice. You
shall have the rest of the History at Frankfort Mart next coming, and there shall you see how
Panurge 206 was married and made a Cuckold within a Month after his Wedding: how
Pantagruel found out the Philosopher's Stone, the Manner how he found it, and the Way how to
use it: How he past over the Caspian Mountains, and how he sailed through the Atlantick Sea,
de|feated the Cannibals, and conquered the Isles of Perles; how he married the Daughter of the
King of India, called Presian; how he fought against the Devil, and burnt up five Chambers of
Hell, ransacked the great black Chamber, threw Proserpina into the Fire, broke five Teeth of
Lucifer, and the Horn that was in his Arse. How he visited the Regi|ons of the Moon, to know
whether indeed the Moon were not entire and whole; or if the Women had three Quarters of it in
their Heads, and a thousand other little Merriments all veri|table. These are brave things truly:
Good Night, Gentlemen, Perdonate mi, and think not so much upon my Faults, that you forget
 248

your own. If you say to me, (Master) it would seem that you were not very wise in wri|ting to us
these flimflam Stories, and pleasant Fooleries;

I answer you, that you are not much wiser to spend your time in reading them. Never|theless, if
you read them to make your selves merry, as in manner of Pastime I wrote them, you and I both
are far more worthy of Pardon 207 than a great Rabble of squint-minded Fellows, counterfeit
Saints, demure Lookers, Hypocrites, Zealots, tough Fryars, Buskin-Monks, and other such Sects
of Men, who disguise them|selves like Maskers to deceive the World: for whilst they give the
common People to under|stand, that they are busied about nothing but Contemplation and
Devotion in Fastings and Maceration of their Sensuality, and that only to sustain and aliment the
small Frailty of their Humanity; it is so far otherwise, that on the contrary (God knows) what
cheer they make, Et Curios simulant, sed bacchanalia vivunt. You may read it in great Letters, in
the colour|ing of their red Snowts, and gulching Bellies as big as a Tun, unless it be when they
perfume themselves with Sulphur. As for their Study it is wholly taken up in reading of
Pantagrue|lin Books, not so much to pass the Time mer|riiy, as to hurt some one or other
mischie|vously, to wit, in articling, sole-articling, wry-neckifying, buttock-stirring, ballocking,
and diabliculating, that is calumniating: wherein they are like unto the poor Rogues of a Vil|lage,
that are busy in stirring up and scraping in the Ordure and Filth of little Children in the Season of
Cherries and Guinds, and that only to find the Kernels, that they may sell them to the Druggists,
to make thereof Po|mander-Oil. Fly from these Men, abhor and hate them as much as I do, and
upon my Faith 208 you will find your selves the better for it. And if you desire to be good
Pantagruelists, (that is to say, to live in Peace, Joy, Health, making your selves always merry)
never trust those Men that always peep out at one Hole.

The End of the Second Book of RABELAIS.

FINIS.

THE THIRD BOOK OF THE WORKS OF Mr. Francis Rabelais, Doctor in Physick.

Containing the Heroick Deeds of Pantagruel the Son of Gargantua.

Now faithfully Translated into English; by the unimitable Pen of Sir Thomas Vrwhart, Kt. & Bar.

The Translator of the Two First BOOKS.

Never before Printed.

LONDON: Printed for Richard Baldwin near the Oxford Arms in Warwick-Lane, 1693.

1
 249

Francis Rabelais to the Soul of the deceased Queen of Na|varre.

ABstracted Soul, ravish'd with extasies,

Gone back, and now familiar in the Skies.
Thy former Host, thy Body, leaving quite,
Which to obey thee always took delight;
Obsequious, ready. Now from motion free,
Senseless, and as it were, in Apathy.
Wouldst thou not issue forth, for a short space,
From that Divine, Eternal, Heavenly place,
To see the third part, in this earthy Cell,
Of the brave Acts of good Pantagruel.

The Third Book of the Heroick Deeds and Sayings of the good Pantagruel.

The AUTHOR's Prologue.

GOOD People, most Illustrious Drinkers, and you thrice preci|ous gouty Gentlemen. Did you
ever see Diogenes the Cynick Philosopher, if 2 you have seen him, you then had your Eyes in
your Head, or I am very much out of my Understanding and Logical Sense. It is a gallant thing to
see the clearness of (Wine, Gold) the Sun. I'll be judged by the blind born so renowned in the
Sacred Scriptures; who having at his choice to ask whatever he would from him who is
Almighty, and whose Word in an Instant is effectually performed, asked nothing else but that he
might see. Item you are not young, which is a com|petent Quality for you to Philosophat more
than Physically in Wine (not in vain) and henceforwards to be of the Bacchick Council; to the
end that opining there, you may give your Opinion faithfully of the Substance, Colour, excellent
Odour, E|minency, Propriety, Faculty, Vertue, and effectual Dignity of the said blessed and
desired Liquor.

If you have not seen him (as I am ea|sily induced to believe that you have not) at least you have
heard some talk of him. For through the Air, and the whole ex|tent of this Hemisphere of the
Heavens hath his Report and Fame, even until this present time, remained very memo|rable and
renowned. Then all of you are derived from the Phrygian Blood (if I be not deceived) if you
have not so ma|ny 3 Crowns as Midas had, yet have you something (I know not what) of him,
which the Persians of old esteemed more of in all their Otacusts, and which was more desired by
the Emperor Antonine; and gave occasion thereafter to the Basi|lisco at Rohan to be Surnamed
Goodly ears. If you have not heard of him, I will pre|sently tell you a Story to make your Wine
relish: Drink then, so, to the pur|pose; hearken now whilst I give you no|tice (to the end that you
may not like Infidels be by your simplicity abused) that in his time he was a rare Philosopher,
and the chearfullest of a thousand: If he had some Imperfection, so have you, so have we; for
there is nothing (but God) that is perfect: Yet so it was, that by Alex|ander the Great (although he
 250

had Aristotle for his Instructor and Domestick) was he held in such Estimation, that he wish'd if
he had not been Alexander to have been Diogenes the Sinopian.

When Philip King of Macedon enter|prised the Siege and Ruine of Corinth, the Corinthians
having received certain Intel|ligence by their Spies, that he with a nu|merous Army in Battel
Rank was coming against them, were all of them (not without cause) most terribly afraid; and
therefore were not neglective of their 4 Duty, in doing their best Endeavours to put themselves in
a fit posture to resist his Hostile Approach, and defend their own City.

Some from the Fields brought into the Fortify'd Places their Moveables, Bestial, Corn, Wine,
Fruit, Victuals, and other necessary Provision.

Others did fortify and rampire their Walls, set up little Fortresses, Bastions, squared Ravelins,
digged Trenches, clean|sed Countermines, fenced themselves with Gabions, contrived Platforms,
emptied Casemates, barricado'd the false Brayes, e|rected the Cavalliers, repaired the
Contre|scarfes, plaister'd the Courtines, lengthned Ravelins, stopped Parapets, mortaised
Bar|bacans, assured the Port-culleys, fastned the Herses, Sarasinesks and Cataracks, placed
their Centries, and doubled their Pa|trouille.

Every one did watch and ward, and not one was exempted from carrying the Basket.

Some polish'd Corselets, varnished Backs and Breasts, clean'd the Head-pieces, Mail-Coats,
Brigandins, Salads, Helmets, Mur|rions, Jacks, Gushets, Gorgets, Hoguines, Brassars, and
Cuissars, Corseletts, Hauber|geons, Shields, Bucklers, Targuets, Greves, Gantlets and Spurs.

5 Others made ready Bows, Slings, Cross|bows, Pellets, Catapults, Migrames or Fire|balls,
Firebrands, Balists, Scorpions, and other such Warlike Engines, expugnatorie, and destructive to
the Hellepolists.

They sharpned and prepared Spears, Staves, Pikes, Brown[...]Bills, Halberts, Long Hooks,
Lances, Zagages, Quarterstaves, Eelspears, Partisans, Troutstaves, Clubs, Battle-axes, Maces,
Darts, Dartlets, Glaves, Javelins, Javelots, and Trunchions.

They set Edges upon Cimeters, Cut|lasses, Badelans, Back-swords, Tucks, Ra|piers, Bayonets,
Arrow-heads, Dags, Dag|gers, Mandousians, Poigniards, Whinyards, Knives, Skenes, Sables,
Chipping Knives, and Raillons.

Every Man exercis'd his Weapon, eve|ry Man scowred off the Rust from his natural Hanger: Nor
was there a Wo|man amongst them (tho' never so reserv'd or old) who made not her Harnish to
be well furbished; as you know the Corinthian Women of old were reputed very coura|gious
Combatants.

Diogenes seeing them all so warm at work, and himself not employed by the Magistrates in any
business whatsoever, he did very seriously (for many days to|gether, without speaking one Word)
con|sider, 6 and contemplate the Countenance of his Fellow-Citizens.
 251

Then on a sudden, as if he had been roused up and inspired by a Martial Spi|rit, he girded his
Cloak, scarf-ways, a|bout his Left Arm, tucked up his Sleeves to the Elbow, trussed himself like
a Clown gathering Apples, and giving to one of his old Acquaintance his Wallet, Books, and
Opistrographs, away went he out of Town towards a little Hill or Promonto|ry of Corinth called
Cranie; and there on the Strand, a pretty level place, did he roul his Jolly Tub, which serv'd him
for an House to shelter him from the Injuries of the Weather: There, I say, in a great Vehemency
of Spirit, did he turn it, veer it, wheel it, whirl it, frisk it, jumble it, shuffle it, huddle it, tumble it,
hurry it, joult it, justle it, overthrow it, evert it, invert it, subvert it, overturn it, beat it, thwack it,
bump it, batter it, knock it, thrust it, push it, jert it, shock it, shake it, toss it, throw it, overthrow it
up-side down, topsiturvy, arsiturvy, tread it, trample it, stamp it, tap it, ting it, ring it, tingle it,
towl it, sound it, resound it, stop it, shut it, unbung it, close it, unstopple it. And then again in a
mighty bustle he bandy'd it, slubber'd it, hack'd it, whitled it, way'd it, darted it, hurled it,
stagger'd 7 it, reel'd it, swing'd it, brangled it, totter'd it, lifted it, heaved it, transformed it,
transfigur'd it, transpos'd it, transplaced it, reared it, raised it, hoised it, washed it, dighted it,
cleansed it, rinced it, nailed it, setled it, fastned it, shackled it, fetter'd it, level'd it, block'd it,
tugg'd it, tew'd it, carry'd it, bedash'd it, beray'd it, parch'd it, mounted it, broach'd it, nick'd it,
notch'd it, bespatter'd it, deck'd it, a|dorn'd it, trimmed it, garnished it, ga|ged it, furnish'd it,
boar'd it, pierc'd it, trap'd it, rumbled it, slid it down the Hill, and precipitated it from the very
height of the Cranie; then from the foot to the top (like another Sisyphus with his Stone) bore it
up again, and every way so bang'd it and belabour'd it, that it was ten thousand to one he had not
struck the bottom of it out.

Which when one of his Friends had seen, and asked him why he did so toil his Body, perplex his
Spirit, and torment his Tub? The Philosopher's Answer was, That not being employed in any
other Charge by the Republick, he thought it expedient to thunder and storm it so tempestuously
upon his Tub, that amongst a People so fervently busie, and earnest at work, he alone might not
seem a loytering Slug 8 and lasie Fellow. To the same purpose may I say of my self,

Tho I be rid from Fear,

I am not void of Care.
For perceiving no Account to be made of me towards the Discharge of a Trust of any great
Concernment, and conside|ring that through all the parts of this most noble Kingdom of France,
both on this and on the other side of the Mountains, every one is most diligently exercised and
busied; some in the fortifying of their own Native Country, for its Defence; others, in the
repulsing of their Enemies by an Offensive War; and all this with a Policy so excellent, and such
admirable Order, so manifestly profitable for the fu|ture, whereby France shall have its Fron|tiers
most magnifically enlarged· and the Frenches assured of a long and well-grounded Peace, that
very little· with|holds me from the Opinion of good He|raclitus, which affirmeth War to be the
Fa|ther of all good things; and therefore do I believe that War is in Latin called Bellum, not by
Antiphrasis, as some Patchers of old rusty Latin would have us to think; be|cause in War there is
little Beauty to be seen, but absolutely and simply; for that 9 in War appeareth all that is good
and graceful, and that by the Wars is purged out all manner of Wickedness and Defor|mity. For
Proof whereof the wise and pacifick Solomon could no better represent the unspeakable
Perfection of the Divine Wisdom, than by comparing it to the due disposure and ranking of an
Army in Battel Array, well provided and ordered.
 252

Therefore by reason of my Weakness and Inability, being reputed by my Compatriots unfit for
the Offensive part of Warfare; and on the other side, being no way employed in matter of the
De|fensive, although it had been but to carry Burthens, fill Ditches, or break Clods, either
whereof had been to me indiffe|rent, I held it not a little disgraceful to be only an Idle Spectator
of so many valo|rous, eloquent and warlike Persons, who in the view and sight of all Europe act
this notable Interlude or Tragicomedy, and not make some Effort towards the Perfor|mance of
this, nothing at all remains for me to be done. In my Opinion, little Honour is due to such as are
meer Lookers on, liberal of their Eyes, and of their Purse parsimonious; who conceal their
Crowns, and hide their Silver; scratching their Head with one Finger like grum|bling Puppies,
gaping at the Flies like 10 Tithe Calves; clapping down their Ears like Arcadian Asses at the
Melody of Mu|sicians, who with their very Countenan|ces in the depth of silence express their
Consent to the Prosopopeie.

Having made this Choice and Electi|on, it seemed to me that my Exercise therein would be
neither unprofitable nor troublesom to any, whilst I should thus set agoing my Diogenical Tub,
which is all that is left me safe from the Shipwrack of my former Misfortunes.

At this dingle dangle wagging of my Tub, what would you have me to do? By the Virgin that
tucks up her Sleeve, I know not as yet: Stay a little till I suck up a Draught of this Bottle, it is my
true and only Helicon; it is my Caballine Foun|tain; it is my sole Entousiasm. Drinking thus I
meditate, discourse, resolve and conclude. After that the Epilogue is made, I laugh, I write, I
compose, and drink again. Cynius drinking wrote, and wri|ing drank. Aschylus (if Plutarch in his
Symposiaes merit any Faith) drank compo|sing, and drinking composed. Homer never wrote
fasting, and Cato never wrote till after he had drunk. These Passages I have brought before you,
to the end you may not say that I live without the Ex|ample of Men well praised, and better. 11
prised. It is good and fresh enough, even (as if you would say) it is entring upon the Second
Degree. God the good God Sabaoth (that is to say, the God of Armies) be praised for it eternally.
If you after the same manner would take one great Draught, or two little ones, whilst you have
your Gown about you. I truly find no kind of Inconveniency in it, provided you send up to God
for all some small scantling of Thanks.

Since then my Luck or Destiny is such as you have heard, for it is not for every body to go to
Corinth, I am fully resolved to be so little idle and unprofitable, that I will set my self to serve
the one and the other sort of People, amongst the Dig|gers, Pioniers and Rampire-builders, I will
do as did Neptune and Apollo at Troy under Laomedon, or as did Renault of Mountau|ban in his
latter days: I will serve the Ma|sons, I'll set on the Pot to boyl for the Bricklayers; and whilst the
minced Meat is making ready at the sound of my small Pipe, I'll measure the Muzzle of the
mu|sing Dotards. Thus did Amphion with the Melody of his Harp, found, build and finish the
great and renowned City of Thebes.

12 For the use of the Warriours I am about to broach off new my Barrel to give them a taste,
(which by two former Volumes of mine, if by the deceitfulness and falshood of Printers they had
not been jumbled, marred and spoiled, you would have very well relish'd) and draw unto them of
the growth of our own trippery Pastimes, a gallant third part of a Gal|lon, and consequently a
jolly chearful Quart of Pantagruelick Sentences, which you may lawfully call (if you please)
Di|ogenical; and shall have me (seeing I can|not be their Fellow-Soldier) for their faith|ful
 253

Butler, refreshing and cheering, ac|cording to my little power, their return from the Alarms of the
Enemy; as also for an indefatigable Extoller of their Mar|tial Exploits and Glorious
Atchievements. I shall not fail therein par lapathium acu|tum de dieu, if Mars fail not in Lent,
which the cunning Lecher (I warrant you) will be loath to do.

I remember nevertheless to have read, that Ptolomee the Son of Lagus one day, amongst the
many Spoils and Booties, which by his Victories he had acquired, presenting to the Egyptians in
the open view of the People, a Bactrian Camel all black, and a party-coloured Slave, in such sort,
as that the one half of his Body was 13 black, and the other white, not in parti|tion of breadth by
the Diaphragma, as was that Woman consecrated to the Indian Venus, whom the Tyanean
Philosopher did see between the River Hydaspes, and mount Caucasus, but in a perpendicular
Dimension of Altitude; which were things never before that seen in Egypt. He expected by the
show of these Novel|ties to win the love of the People. But what hapned thereupon? At the
produ|ction of the Camel they were all affright|ed, and offended at the sight of the par|ty-
coloured Man: Some scoffed at him as a detestible Monster brought forth by the Errour of
Nature. In a word, of the Hope which he had to please these Egyp|tians, and by such means to
encrease the Affection which they naturally bore him, he was altogether frustrate and
disappoint|ed; understanding fully by their Deport|ments, that they took more pleasure and
delight in things that were proper, hand|som and perfect, than in mishapen, mon|strous and
ridiculous Creatures; since which time he had both the Slave and the Camel in such dislike that
very shortly thereafter, either through Negligence, or for want of ordinary Sustenance, they did
exchange their Life with Death.

14 This Example, My Cake will be Dough, and for my Venus I shall have but some deformed
Puppy, putteth me in a suspence between hope and fear, mis|doubting that for the Contentment
which I aim at, I will but reap what shall be most distastful to me; instead of serving them, I shall
but vex them, and offend them whom I purpose to exhilerate; re|sembling in this dubious
Adventure Eucli|on's Cook, so renowned by Plautus in his Pot; and by Ausonius in his Griphon,
and by divers others; which Cook, for having by his scraping, discovered a Treasure, had his
Hide well curry'd. Put the case I get no Anger by it, though formerly such things fell out, and the
like may occur again: Yet, by Hercules, it will not. So I perceive in them all one, and the same
specifical Form, and the like individual Proprieties, which our Ancestors called Pantagruelism;
by vertue whereof they will bear with any thing that floweth from a good, free, and loyal Heart. I
have seen them ordinarily take good will in part of payment, and remain satisfied therewith,
when one was not able to do better. Having dispatched this point, I return to my Barrel.

15 Up my Lads, to this Wine, spare it not; drink Boys, and trowl it off at full Bowls; if you do
not think it good, let it alone. I am not like those officious and importunate Sots, who by Force,
Out|rage and Violence constrain an easie good-natur'd Fellow to whiffle, quaff, carouse, and
what is worse. All honest Tiplers, all honest gouty Men, all such as are a|dry, coming to this little
Barrel of mine, need not drink thereof, if it please them not; but if they have a mind to it, and that
the Wine prove agreeable to the Tastes of their worshipful Worships, let them drink frankly,
freely and boldly, without paying any thing, and welcome. This is my Decree, my Statute and
Ordi|nance; and let none fear there shall be any want of Wine as at the Marriage of Cana in
Galilee; for how much soever you shall draw forth at the Faucet, so much shall I tun in at the
Bung. Thus shall the Barrel remain inexhaustible; it hath a lively Spring and perpetual Current.
 254

Such was the Beverage contained within the Cup of Tantalus, which was figuratively represented
amongst the Bracman Sages. Such was in Iberia the Mountain of Salt so highly written of by
Cato. Such was the Branch of Gold consecrated to the sub|terranean Goddess, which Virgil
treats of 16 so sublimely. It is a true Cornu-copia of Merriment and Railery. If at any time it
seem to you to be emptied to the very Lees, yet shall it not for all that be drawn wholly dry; good
Hope remains there at the bottom, as in Pandora's Bottle; and not despair, as in the Punction of
the Danaids. Remark well what I have said, and what manner of People they be whom I do
invite; for to the end that none be deceived, I (in imitation of Lu|cilius, who did protest that he
wrote only to his own Tarentias and Consentius, have not pierced this Vessel for any else, but
you honest Men, who are Drinkers of the First Edition, and gouty Blades of the high|est degree.
The great Dorophages, Bribe-mongers, have (on their hands) occupa|tion enough, and enough on
the Hooks, for their Venison. There may they follow their Prey; here is no Garbage for them.
You Pettifoggers, Garbellers, and Masters of Chicanery, speak not to me I beseech you, in the
name of, and for the Reverence you bear to the Four Hips that ingendred you, and to the
Quickning Peg which at that time conjoined them. As for Hypo|crites, much less; although they
were all of them unsound in Body, pockify'd, scur|fie, furnish'd with unquenchable Thirst, and
insatiable Eating; because indeed 17 they are not of good but of evil, and of that evil, from which
we daily pray to God to deliver us. And albeit we see them sometimes counterfeit Devotion, yet
ne|ver did Old Age make pretty Moppet. Hence Mastiffs, Dogs in a Doublet, get you behind,
aloof Villains, out of my Sun|shine; Curs, to the Devil. Do you jog hither, wagging your Tails, so
pant at my Wine, and bepiss my Barrel? Look here is the Cudgel, which Diogines, in his last
Will, ordained to be set by him after his Death, for beating away, crushing the Reins, and
breaking the Backs of these Bustuary Hobgoblins, and Cerberian Hell-hounds. Pack you hence
therefore you Hypocrites to your Sheep-dogs, get you gone you Dissemblers to the Devil. Hay!
What, are you there yet? I renounce my part of Papimanie. If I snatch you, Grr, Grrr, Grrrrrr.
Avant, Avant, will you not be gone? May you never shit till you be soundly lash'd with Stirrup
Leather, never piss but by the Strapado, nor be otherways warmed, than by the Bastinado.

18

CHAP. I. How Pantagruel transported a Colony of Utopians into Dypsodie.

PAntagruel having wholly subdued the Land of Dypsodie, transported thereunto a Colony of
Utopians, to the number of 9876543210 Men, be|sides the Women and little Children, Ar|tificers
of all Trades, and Professors of all Sciences; to people, cultivate and im|prove that Country,
which otherways was ill inhabited, and in the greatest part thereof but a meer Desert and
Wilderness; and did transport them so much for the excessive multitude of Men and Women
which were in Utopia, multiplied (for number) like Grashoppers upon the face of the Land. You
understand well e|nough, nor is it needful further to explain it to you, that the Utopian Men had
so rank and fruitful Genetories, and that the Utopian Women carryed Matrixes so ample, so
glutonous, so tenaciously reten|tive, and so Architectonically cellulated, that 19 at the end of
every Ninth Month Seven Children at the least (what Male what Female) were brought forth by
every Married Woman, in imitation of the People of Israel in Egypt, if Anthony de Lira be to be
trusted. Nor yet was this Transplantation made so much for the Fertility of the Soil, the
Wholsomness of the Air, or Commodity of the Country of Dypsodie, as to retain that Rebellious
People within the bounds of their Duty and Obedience, by this new Transport of his ancient and
 255

most faithful Subjects, who from all time out of mind, never knew, acknowledged, owned or
served any other Soveraign Lord but him; and who likewise from the very instant of their Birth,
as soon as they were entred into this World, had, with the Milk of their Mothers and Nurses,
sucked in the Sweetness, Humanity and Mildness of his Government, to which they were all of
them so nourished and habituated, that there was nothing surer, than that they would sooner
abandon their Lives, than swerve from this singular and primitive Obedience naturally due to
their Prince, whithersoever they should be dispersed or removed.

20 And not only should they, and their Children successively descending from their Blood, be
such, but also would keep and maintain in this same Fealty, and obsequious Observance, all the
Nations lately annexed to his Empire; which so truly came to pass, that therein he was not
disappointed of his intent. For if the Utopians were before their Transplantation thither dutiful
and faithful Subjects, the Dypsodes, after some few days conversing with them, were every whit
as (if not more) loyal than they; and that by vertue of I know not what natural Fervency in|cident
to all Humane Creatures at the be|ginning of any labour wherein they took delight; solemnly
attesting the Heavens, and supreme Intelligences of their being on|ly sorry, that no sooner unto
their know|ledge had arrived the great Renown of the good Pantagruel.

Remark therefore here (honest Drin|kers) that the manner of preserving and retaining Countries
newly Conquered in Obedience, is not (as hath been the Er|ronious Opinion of some Tyrannical
Spi|rits to their own Detriment and Disho|nour) to pillage, plunder, force, spoil, trouble, oppress,
vex, disquiet, ruine and destroy the People, ruling, governing and keeping them in awe with Rods
of Iron; 21 and (in a word) eating and devouring them, after the fashion that Homer calls an
unjust and wicked King, [...], that is to say, a Devourer of his People.

I will not bring you to this purpose the Testimony of Ancient Writers; it shall suffice to put you
in mind of what your Fathers have seen thereof, and your selves too, if you be not very Babes.
New|born, they must be given suck to, rocked in a Cradle, and dandled. Trees newly planted
must be supported, underpropped, strengthened and defended against all Tempests, Mischiefs,
Injuries and Cala|mities. And one lately saved from a long and dangerous Sickness, and new
upon his Recovery, must be forborn, spared and cherished, in such sort, that they may harbour in
their own Breasts this Opini|on, that there is not in the World a King or a Prince, who does not
desire fewer Ene|mies, and more Friends.

Thus Osiris the great King of the Egyp|tians, conquered almost the whole Earth, not so much by
Force of Arms, as by ea|sing the People of their Troubles, teach|ing them how to live well, and
honestly giving them good Laws, and using them with all possible Affability, Curtesie,
Gen|tleness and Liberality: Therefore was he by all Men deservedly Entituled, The 22 Great
King Evergetes (that is to say Be|nefactor) which Style he obtained by ver|tue of the Command
of Iupiter to Pa|myla.

And in effect, Hesiod, in his Hierarchy placed the good Demons (call them Angels if you will, or
Geniuses) as Intercessors and Mediators betwixt the Gods and Men, they being of a degree
inferiour to the Gods, but superiour to Men; and for that through their Hands the Riches and
Be|nefits we get from Heaven are dealt to us; and that they are continually doing us good, and
 256

still protecting us from evil. He saith, that they exercise the Offices of Kings; because to do
always good, and never ill, is an Act most singularly Royal.

Just such another was the Emperor of the Universe, Alexander the Macedonian. After this
manner was Hercules Sovereign Possessor of the whole Continent, reliev|ing Men from
monstrous Oppressions, Exactions and Tyrannies; governing them with Discretion, maintaining
them in Equity and Justice, instructing them with seasonable Policies and wholsom Laws,
convenient for, and suitable to the Soil, Climate and Disposition of the Country, supplying where
was wanting, abating what was superfluous, and par|doning all that was past, with a sempi|ternal
23 forgetfulness of all preceding Of|fences, as was the Amnestie of the Atheni|ans, when by the
Prowess, Valour and Industry of Thrasybulus, the Tyrants were exterminated; afterwards at
Rome by Cicero exposed, and renewed under the Emperor Aurelian. These are the Philtres,
Al|lurements, Iynges, Inveiglements, Baits, and Enticements of Love, by the means whereof that
may be peaceably revived, which was painfully acquired. Nor can a Conqueror Reign more
happily, whe|ther he be a Monarch, Emperor, King, Prince or Philosopher, than by making his
Justice to second his Valour. His Va|lour shows it self in Victory and Con|quest; his Iustice will
appear in the good Will and Affection of the People, when he maketh Laws, publisheth
Ordinances, establisheth Religion, and doth what is right to every one, as the noble Poet Virgil
writes of Octavian Augustus.

---Victorque volentes
Per populos dat jura.

Therefore is it that Homer in his Iliads calleth a good Prince and great King [...], that is, The
Ornament of the People.

24 Such was the Consideration of Numa Pompilius the Second King of the Romans, a just
Politician and wise Philosopher, when he ordained that to God Terminus, on the day of his
Festival called Termina|les, nothing should be Sacrificed that had died; teaching us thereby, that
the Bounds, Limits and Frontiers of Kingdoms should be guarded, and preserved in Peace,
Ami|ty and Meekness, without polluting our Hands with Blood and Robbery: Who doth
otherways, shall not only lose what he hath gained, but also be loaded with this Scandal and
Reproach, That he is an unjust and wicked Purchaser, and his Ac|quests perish with him, Iuxta
illud malae parta, male dilabuntur. And although du|ring his whole Life-time, he should have
peaceable possession thereof; yet if what hath been so acquired moulder away in the Hands of
his Heirs the same Oppro|by, Scandal and Imputation will be char|ged upon the Defunct, and his
Memory remain accursed for his unjust and unwar|rantable Conquest, Iuxta illud, de male
quaesitis vix gaudet tertius haeres.

Remark, likewise, Gentlemen, you Gouty Feoffees in this main Point worthy of your
Observation, how by these means Pantagruel of one Angel made two, which was a Contingency
opposite to the 25 Council of Charlemaine, who made two Devils of one, when he transplanted
the Sax|ons into Flanders, and the Flemins into Saxony. For not being able to keep in such
Subjection the Saxons, whose Domi|nion he had joyned to the Empire, but that ever and anon
 257

they would break forth into open Rebellion, if he should casu|ally be drawn into Spain, or other
re|mote Kingdoms: He caused them to be brought unto his own Country of Flan|ders, the
Inhabitants whereof did natu|rally obey him; and transported the Haynaults and Flemens, his
ancient loving Subjects, into Saxony, not mistrusting their Loyalty, now that they were
trans|planted into a strange Land. But it hap|ned that the Saxons persisted in their Re|bellion and
primitive Obstinacy; and the Flemins dwelling in Saxony did imbibe the stubborn Manners and
Conditions of the Saxons.

26

CHAP. II. How Panurge was made Laird of Sal|mygoudin in Dypsodie, and did waste his
Revenue before it came in.

WHilst Pantagruel was giving Order for the Government of all Dyp|sodie, he assigned to
Panurge the Laird|ship of Salmygoudin, which was yearly worth 6789106789 Ryals of certain
Rent, besides the uncertain Revenue of the Lo|custs and Periwinkles, amounting one year with
another to the value of 435768, or 2435769 French Crowns of Berry. Some|times it did amount
to 1230554321 Se|raphs when it was a good Year, and that Locusts and Periwinkles were in
request; but that was not every Year.

Now his Worship, the new Laird, hus|banded this his Estate so providently well and prudently,
that in less than fourteen days he wasted and dilapidated all the certain and uncertain Revenue of
his Lairdship for three whole Years: Yet did 27 not he properly dilapidate it, as you might say, in
founding of Monasteries, building of Churches, erecting of Col|ledges, and setting up of
Hospitals, or casting his Bacon-Flitches to the Dogs; but spent it in a thousand little Banquets
and jolly Collations, keeping open House for all Comers and Goers; yea, to all good Fellows,
young Girls, and pretty Wenches; felling Timber, burning the great Logs for the Sale of the
Ashes, bor|rowing Money before-hand, buying dear, selling cheap, and eating his Corn (as it
were) whilst it was but Grass.

Pantagruel being advertised of this his Lavishness, was in good sooth no way offended at the
matter, angry nor sorry; for I once told you, and again tell it you, that he was the best, little, great
Good|man that ever girded a Sword to his Side; he took all things in good part, and in|terpreted
every Action to the best Sence: He never vexed nor disquieted himself with the least pretence of
Dislike to any thing; because he knew that he must have most grosly abandoned the Divine
Mansion of Reason, if he had permitted his Mind to be never so little grieved, af|flicted or altered
at any occasion whatso|ever. For all the Goods that the Heaven covereth, and that the Earth
containeth in 28 all their Dimensions of Heighth, Depth, Breadth and Length, are not of so much
worth, as that we should for them disturb or disorder our Affections, trouble or perplex our
Senses or Spirits.

He drew only Panurge aside, and then making to him a sweet Remonstrance and mild
Admonition, very gently re|presented before him in strong Argu|ments, That if he should
continue in such an unthrifty course of living, and not become a better Mesnagier, it would prove
 258

altogether impossible for him, or at least hughly difficult at any time to make him rich. Rich!
answered Panurge, Have you fixed your Thoughts there? Have you underraken the Task to
en|rich me in this World? Set your Mind to live merrily in the Name of God and good Folks, let
no other Cark nor Care be harboured within the Sacro sanctified Domicile of your Celestial
Brain. May the Calmness and Tranquility thereof be never incommodated with, or over-
sha|dowed by any frowning Clouds of fullen Imaginations and displeasing Annoyance. For if
you live joyful, meery, jocund and glad, I cannot be but rich enough. Every body cries up thrift,
thrift, and good Hus|bandry; but many speak of Robin Hood that never shot in his Bow; and talk
of 29 that Vertue of Mesnagery, who know not what belong to it. It is by me that they must be
advised. From me therefore take this Advertisement and Information, that what is imputed to me
for a Vice, hath been done in imitation of the University and Parliament of Paris, places in which
is to be found the true Spring and Source of the lively Idea of Pantheology, and all manner of
Justice. Let him be counted an Heretick that doubteth thereof, and doth not firmly believe it: Yet
they in one day eat up their Bishop, or the Revenue of the Bishoprick (is it not all one) for a
whole year; yea, sometimes for two. This is done on the day he makes his En|try, and is
installed: Nor is there any place for an Excuse; for he cannot avoid it, unless he would be houted
at and sto|ned for his Parsimony.

It hath been also esteemed an act flow|ing from the Habit of the Four Cardinal Vertues. Of
Prudence in borrowing Mo|ney before-hand; for none knows what may fall out; who is able to
tell if the World shall last yet three years? But al|though it should continue longer, is there any
Man so foolish, as to have the Confi|dence to promise himself three years?

30
What fool so confident to say,
That he shall live one other day?

Of Commutative Iustice, in buying dear (I say upon trust) and selling good cheap, (that is, for
ready Money) what says Cato in his Book of Husbandry to this purpose? The Father of a Family
(says he) must be a perpetual Seller; by which means it is impossible but that at last he shall
become rich, if he have of vendible Ware enough still ready for sale.

Of Distributive Iustice it doth partake, in giving Entertainment to good (remark good) and gentle
Fellows, whom For|tune had Shipwrack'd (like Ulysses) upon the Rock of a hungry Stomach
without provision of Sustenance: And likewise to the good (remark the good) and young
Wenches: For according to the Sentence of Hippocrates, Youth is impatient of Hunger, chiefly if
it be vigorous, lively, frolick, brisk, stirring and bouncing; which wanton Lasses willingly and
hear|tily devote themselves to the pleasure of Honest Men; and are in so far both Pla|tonick and
Ciceronian, that they do acknow|ledge their being born into this World, not to be for themselves
alone, but that in their proper Persons their Acquaintance may 31 claim one share, and their
Friends ano|ther.

The Vertue of Fortitude appears there|in by the cutting down and overthrowing of the great
Trees, like a second Milo making Havock of the dark Forests, which did serve only to furnish
Dens, Caves, and Shelter to Wolves, wild Boars and Foxes; and afford Receptacles, withdrawing
 259

Cor|ners and Refuges to Robbers, Thieves and Murtherers; lurking holes and sculking places for
Cut-throat Assassinators; secret obscure Shops for Coiners of false money, and safe Retreats for
Hereticks, laying them even and level with the plain Cham|pian Fields and pleasant Heathy
Ground, at the sound of the Hau-bois and Bag|pipes playing, reeks with the high and stately
Timber, and preparing Seats and Benches for the Eve of the dreadful day of Judgment.

I gave thereby proof of my Temperance in eating my Corn whilst it was but Grass, like an
Hermit feeding upon Sallets and Roots, that so affranchising my self from the Yoak of sensual
Appetites to the ut|ter disclaiming of their Sovereignty, I might the better reserve somewhat in
store, for the relief of the lame, blind, cripple, maimed, needy, poor and wan|ting Wretches.

32 In taking this course I save the Expence of the Weed-grubbers, who gain Money; of the
Reapers in Harvest-time, who drink lustily, and without Water; of Gleaners, who will expect
their Cakes and Ban|nocks of Threshers, who leave no Garlick, Scallions, Leeks nor Onyons in
our Gar|dens, (by the Authority of Thestilis in Vir|gil) and of the Millers, who are generally
Thieves; and of the Bakers, who are little better; is the small Saving or Fru|gality; besides the
mischief and damage of the Field-mice, the decay of Barns, and the destruction usually made by
Weesils and other Vermin.

Of Corn in the Blade. You may make good green Sauce of a light Concoction, and easie
Digestion, which recreates the Brain, and exhilerates the Animal Spirits, rejoyceth the Sight,
openeth the Appe|tite, delighteth the taste, comforteth the Heart, tickleth the Tongue, cheareth
the Countenance, striking a fresh and lively Colour, strengthening the Muscles, tempers the
Blood, disburthens the Mi|drif, refresheth the Liver, disobstructs the Spleen, easeth the Kidneys,
suppleth the Reins, quickens the Joynts of the Back, cleanseth the Urine-Conduits, dilates the
Spermatick Vessels, shortens the Crema|sters, purgeth the Bladder, puffeth up the 33 Genitories,
correcteth the prepuce, har|dens the Nut, and rectifies that Member. It will make you have a
current Belly to trot, fart, dung, piss, sneeze, cough, spit, belch, spew, yawn, snuff, blow, breath,
snort, sweat, and set taunt your Robin, with a thousand other rare advantages. I under|stand you
very well (says Pantagruel) you would thereby infer, that those of a mean Spirit and shallow
Capacity, have not the skill to spend· much in a short time: You are not the first in whose
Conceit that Heresie hath entred: Nero maintained it, and above all Mortals admired most his
Unkle Caius Caligula, for having in few days, by a most wonderfully pregnant In|vention, totally
spent all the Goods and Patrimony which Tiberius had left him.

But instead of observing the Sumptuous Supper-curbing Laws of the Romans, to wit, the Orchia,
the Fannia, the Didia, the Li|cinia, the Cornelia, the Lepidiana, the Antia, and of the
Corinthians; by the which they were inhibited, under pain of great punishment, not to spend
more in one year than their annual Revenue did a|mount to. You have offered up the Ob|lation of
Protervia, which was with the Romans such a Sacrifice as the Paschal Lamb was amongst the
Iews, wherein all that was eatable was to be eaten, and the re|mainder 34 to be thrown into the
Fire, with|out reserving any thing for the next day. I may very justly say of you, as Cato did of
Albidius, who after that he had by a most extravagant Expence wasted all the Means and
Possessions he had to one only House, he fairly set it on Fire, that he might the better say,
Consummatum est. Even just as since his time St. Thomas Aquinas did when he had eaten up the
whole Lamprey, although there was no necessity in it.
 260

CHAP. III. How Panurge praiseth the Debtors and Borrowers.

BUT, quoth Pantagruel, when will you be out of Debt? At the next ensuing Term of the Greek
Calends, an|swered Panurge, when all the World shall be content, and that it be your Fate to
become your own Heir. The Lord for|bid that I should be out of Debt, as if, in|deed, I could not
be trusted. Who leaves 35 not some Leaven over night, will hardly have paste the next morning.

Be still indebted to some body or other, that there may be some body always to pray for you; that
the Giver of all good things may grant unto you a blessed, long, and prosperous Life, fearing if
Fortune should deal crosly with you, that it might be his chance to come short of being paid by
you; he will always speak good of you in every Company, ever and anon purchase new Creditors
unto you; to the end that through their means you may make a shift by borrowing from Peter to
pay Paul, and with other folks Earth fill up his Ditch. When of old in the Re|gion of the Gauls,
by the Institution of the Druids, the Servants, Slaves and Bond|men were burnt quick at the
Funerals and Obsequies of their Lords and Masters; had not they fear enough, think you, that
their Lords and Masters should die? for per force, they were to die with them for Company. Did
not they uncessantly send up their Supplications to their great God Mercury, as likewise unto Dis
the Father of Wealth, to lengthen out their days, and preserve them long in health? Were not they
very careful to entertain them well, punctually to look unto them, and to attend them faithfully
and circumspect|ly? 36 For by those means were they to live together at least until the hour of
Death. Believe me, your Creditors with a more fervent Devotion will beseech Almighty God to
prolong your Life, they being of nothing more afraid than that you should die; for that they are
more concerned for the Sleeve than the Arm, and love Silver better than their own Lives; as it
evidently appeareth by the Usurers of Landerousse, who not long since hanged themselves,
because the price of the Corn and Wines was fallen, by the return of a gracious Season. To this
Pantagruel an|swering nothing, Panurge went on in his Discourse, saying, Truly, and in good
sooth (Sir,) when I ponder my Destiny aright, and think well upon it, you put me shrewdly to my
Plunges, and have me at a Bay in twitting me with the Re|proach of my Debts and Creditors: And
yet did I, in this only respect and con|sideration of being a Debtor, esteem my self worshipful,
reverend and formidable. For against the Opinion of most Philoso|phers, that of nothing ariseth
nothing; yet without having bottomed on so much as that which is called the First Matter, did I
out of nothing become such Maker and Creator, that I have created, what? a gay number of fair
and jolly Creditors. Nay, 37 Creditors (I will maintain it, even to the very Fire it self
exclusively) are fair and goodly Creatures. Who lendeth nothing is an ugly and wicked Creature,
and an ac|cursed Imp of the Infernal Old Nick. And there is made, what? Debts: A thing most
precious and dainty, of great Use and Antiquity. Debts (I say) surmounting the number of
Syllables which may result from the Combinations of all the Conso|nants, with each of the
Vowels hereto|fore projected, reckoned and calculated by the Noble Xenocrates. To judge of the
perfection of Debtors by the Numerosity of their Creditors, is the readiest way for entring into
the Mysteries of Practical Arithmetick.

You can hardly imagine how glad I am, when every Morning I perceive my self environed and
surrounded with Bri|gades of Creditors; humble, fawning, and full of their Reverences: And
 261

whilst I remark, that as I look more favourably upon, and give a chearfuller Counte|nance to one
than to another, the Fellow thereupon buildeth a Conceit that he shall be the first Dispatched, and
the foremost in the Date of Payment; and he valueth my Smiles at the rate of ready Money. It
seemeth unto me, that I then act and personate the God of the Passion of Sau|mure, 38
accompanied with his Angels and Cherubims.

These are my Flatterers, my Soothers, my Claw backs, my Smoothers, my Para|sites, my

Saluters, my Givers of good Morrows, and perpetual Orators; which makes me verily think, that
the supream|est Height of Heroick Vertue, described by Hesiode, consisteth in being a Debtor,
wherein I held the first degree in my Com|mencement. Which Dignity though all Humane
Creatures seem to aim at, and as|pire thereto, few nevertheless, because of the difficulties in the
way, and incum|brances of hard Passages are able to reach it, as is easily perceivable by the
ardent desire and vehement longing harboured in the Breast of every one, to be still creating
more Debts, and the new Creditors.

Yet doth it not lie in the power of e|very one to be a Debtor. To acquire Cre|ditors is not at the
Disposure of each Man's Arbitriment. You nevertheless would de|prive me of this sublime
Felicity. You ask me when I will be out of Debt. Well, to go yet further on, and possibly worse in
your Conceit, may Sanct Bablin, the good Sanct, snatch me, if I have not all my Life-time held
Debt to be as an Union or Conjunction of the Heavens with the Earth, and the whole Cement
whereby 39 the Race of Mankind is kept together; yea, of such Vertue and Efficacy, that, I say,
the whole Progeny of Adam would very suddenly perish without it. There|fore, perhaps, I do not
think amiss, when I repute it to be the great Soul of the Uni|verse, which (according to the
Opinion of the Academicks) vivifyeth all manner of things. In Confirmation whereof, that you
may the better believe it to be so, re|present unto your self, without any preju|dicacy of Spirit, in
a clear and serene Fan|cy, the Idea and Form of some other World than this; take if you please,
and lay hold on the thirtieth of those which the Philosopher Methrodorus did enumerate, wherein
it is to be supposed there is no Debtor or Creditor, that is to say, a World without Debts.

There amongst the Planets will be no regular Course, all will be in Disorder, Iupiter reckoning
himself to be nothing in|debted unto Saturn, will go near to detrude him out of his Sphere, and
with the Ho|merick Chain will be like to hang up the Intelligences, Gods, Heavens, Demons,
He|roes, Devils, Earth and Sea together with the other Elements. Saturn no doubt combining with
Mars will reduce that so disturbed World into a Chaos of Confu|sion.

40 Mercury then would be no more sub|jected to the other Planets; he would scorn to be any
longer their Camillus, as he was of old termed in the Hetrurian Tongue; for it is to be imagined
that he is no way a Debtor to them.

Venus will be no more Venerable, be|cause she shall have lent nothing. The Moon will remain
bloody and obscure: For to what end should the Sun impart un|to her any of his Light? He owed
her no|thing. Nor yet will the Sun shine upon the Earth, nor the Stars send down any good
Influence, because the Terrestrial Globe hath desisted from sending up their wonted
Nourishment by Vapours and Exhalations, wherewith Heraclitus said the Stoicks proved Cicero
maintained they were cherished and alimented. There would likeways be in such a World no
manner of Symbolization, Alteration, nor Transmutation amongst the Elements; for the one will
 262

not esteem it self obliged to the other, as having borrowed nothing at all from it. Earth then will
not be|come Water, Water will not be changed into Air, of Air will be made no Fire, and Fire
will afford no Heat unto the Earth; the Earth will produce nothing but Monsters, Titans, Giants;
no Rain will descend upon it, nor Light shine 41 thereon; no Wind will blow there, nor will there
be in it any Summer or Har|vest. Lu[...]fer will break loose, and issuing forth of the depth of Hell,
accompanied with his Furies, Fiends and Horned De|vils, will go about to unnestle and drive out
of Heaven all the Gods, as well of the greater as of the lesser Nations. Such a World without
lending, will be no better than a Dog-kennel, a place of Contention and Wrangling, more unruly
and irregu|lar than that of the Rector of Paris; a Devil of an Hurly-burly, and more dis|ordered
Confusion, than that of the Plagues of Douay. Men will not then salute one another; it will be but
lost la|bour to expect Aid or Succour from any, or to cry, Fire, Water, Murther, for none will put
to their helping Hand. Why? He lent no Money, there is nothing due to him. No body is
concerned in his Burn|ing, in his Shipwrack, in his Ruine, or in his Death; and that because he
hitherto had lent nothing, and would never there|after have lent any thing. In short, Faith, Hope
and Charity would be quite banish'd from such a World; for Men are born to relieve and assist
one another; and in their stead should succeed and be introduced Defiance, Disdain and
Rancour, with the most execrable Troop of all Evils, all Im|precations 42 and all Miseries.
Whereupon you will think, and that not amiss, that Pandora had there spilt her unlucky Bot|tle.
Men unto Men will be Wolves, Hob|thrushers and Goblins, (as were Lycaon, Bellorophon,
Nebuchodonosor) Plunderers, High-way Robbers, Cut-throats, Rappe|rees, Murtherers,
Payloners, Assassinators, lewd, wicked, malevolent, pernicious Ha|ters, set against every body,
like to Ismael, Metabus, or Timon the Athenian, who for that cause was named Misanthropos; in
such sort, that it would prove much more easie in Nature to have Fish entertained in the Air, and
Bullocks fed in the bottom of the Ocean, than to support or tolerate a rascally Rabble of People
that will not Lend. These Fellows (I vow) do I hate with a perfect Hatred; and if conform to the
pattern of this grievous, peevish and perverse World which lendeth nothing, you figure and liken
the little World, which is Man, you will find in him a ter|rible justling Coyle and Clutter: The
Head will not lend the sight of his Eyes to guide the Feet and Hands; the Legs will refuse to bear
up the Body; the Hands will leave off working any more for the rest of the Members; the Heart
will be weary of its continual Motion for the beating of the Pulse, and will no lon|ger 43 lend his
Assistance; the Lungs will withdraw the use of their Bellows; the Liver will desist from
convoying any more Blood through the Veins for the good of the whole; the Bladder will not be
indebted to the Kidneys, so that the Urine thereby will be totally stopped. The Brains, in the
interim, considering this unnatural course, will fall into a ra|ving Dotage, and with-hold all
feeling from the Sinews, and Motion from the Muscles: Briefly, in such a World with|out Order
and Array, owing nothing, lend|ing nothing, and borrowing nothing, you would see a more
dangerous Conspiration than that which Esope exposed in his Apo|logue. Such a World will
perish undoubt|edly; and not only perish, but perish ve|ry quickly. Were it Asculapius himself,
his Body would immediately rot, and the chafing Soul full of Indignation take its Flight to all the
Devils of Hell after my Money.

44

CHAP. IV. Panurge continueth his Discourse in the praise of Borrowers and Lenders.
 263

ON the contrary, be pleased to repre|sent unto your Fancy another World, wherein every one
lendeth, and every one oweth, all are Debtors, and all Cre|ditors. O how great will that Harmony
be, which shall thereby result from the regular Motions of the Heavens! Me|thinks I hear it every
whit as well as ever Plato did. What Sympathy will there be amongst the Elements? O how
dele|ctable then unto Nature will be our own Works and Productions? Whilst Ceres ap|peareth
loaden with Corn, Bacchus with Wines, Flora with Flowers, Pomona with Fruits, and Iuno fair
in a clear Air, whol|som and pleasant: I lose my self in this high Contemplation.

Then will among the Race of Mankind Peace, Love, Benevolence, Fidelity, Tran|quility, Rest,
Banquets, Feastings, Joy, Gladness, Gold, Silver, single Money, 45 Chains, Rings, with other
Ware, and Chaffer of that nature be found to trot from hand to hand; no Suits at Law, no Wars,
no Strife, Debate, nor wrangling; none will be there an Usurer, none will be there a Pinch-penny,
a Scrape-good Wretch, or churlish hard-hearted Refuser. Good God! Will not this be the Golden
Age in the Reign of Saturn? The true Idea of the Olympick Regions, where|in all Vertues cease;
Charity alone ruleth, governeth, domineereth and triumpheth? All will be fair and goodly People
there, all just and vertuous.

O happy World! O People of that World most happy! Yea, thrice and four times blessed is that
People! I think in very deed that I am amongst them, and swear to you, by my good Forsooth,
that if this glorious aforesaid World had a Pope, abounding with Cardinals, that so he might have
the Association of a Sacred Colledge, in the space of ve|ry few years you should be sure to see
the Sancts much thicker in the Roll, more numerous, wonder-working and mi|rifick, more
Services, more Vows, more Staves and Wax-Candles than are all those in the Nine Bishopricks
of Britany, St. Yves only excepted. Consider (Sir) I pray you, how the noble Patelin, having a 46
mind to Deity, and extol even to the Third Heavens the Father of William Ios|seaume, said no
more but this, And he did lend his Goods to those who were desirous of them.

O the fine Saying! Now let our Mi|crocosm be fancied conform to this Model in all its Members;
lending, borrowing and owing, (that is to say) according to its own Nature: For Nature hath not
to any other end created Man, but to owe, borrow and lend; no greater is the Har|mony amongst
the Heavenly Spheres, than that which shall be found in its well-ordered Policy. The Intention of
the Founder of this Microcosm is, to have a Soul therein to be entertained, which is lodged there,
as a Guest with its Host, it may live there for a while. Life consi|steth in Blood, Blood is the Seat
of the Soul; therefore the chiefest Work of the Microcosm, is, to be making Blood continually.

At this Forge are exercised all the Mem|bers of the Body; none is exempted from Labour, each
operates apart, and doth its proper Office. And such is their Hi|erarchy, that perpetually the one
borrows from the other, the one lends the other, and the one is the others Debtor. The stuff and
matter convenient which Nature 47 giveth to be turned into Blood is Bread and Wine. All kind of
nourishing Vi|ctuals is understood to be comprehended in these two, and from hence in the
Go|thish Tongue is called Companage. To find out this Meat and Drink, to prepare and boil it,
the Hands are put to Work, the Feet do walk and bear up the whole Bulk of the Corporal Mass;
the Eyes guide and conduct all; the Appetite in the Ori|fice of the Stomach, by means of little
sowrish black Humour (called Melancho|ly) which is transmitted thereto from the Milt, giveth
warning to shut in the Food. The Tongue doth make the first Essay, and tastes it; the Teeth do
chaw it, and the Stomach doth receive, digest and chy|lifie it; the Mesaraick Veins suck out of it
 264

what is good and fit, leaving behind the Excrements, which are, through spe|cial Conduits for
that purpose, voided by an expulsive Faculty; thereafter it is car|ried to the Liver, where it being
changed again, it by the vertue of that new Transmutation becomes Blood. What Joy, conjecture
you, will then be found amongst those Officers, when they see this Rivolet of Gold, which is their
sole Re|storative? No greater is the Joy of Alchi|mists, when after long Travel, Toil and
Expence, they see in their Furnaces the 48 Transmutation: Then is it that every Member doth
prepare it self, and strive a-new to purifie and to refine this Trea|sure. The Kidneys through the
emul|gent Veins draw that Aquosity from thence which you call Urine, and there send it away
through the Ureters to be slipt downwards; where, in a lower Re|cepticle, and proper for it, (to
wit, the Bladder) it is kept, and stayeth there un|til an opportunity to void it out in his due time.
The Spleen draweth from the Blood its Terrestrial part, viz. The Grounds, Lees or thick
Substance setled in the bottom thereof, which you term Melan|choly: The Bottle of the Gall
substracts from thence all the superfluous Choler; whence it is brought to another Shop or Work-
house to be yet better purified and fined, that is, the Heart, which by its agitation of Diastolick
and Systolick Moti|ons so neatly subtilizeth and inflames it, that in the right side Ventricle it is
brought to perfection, and through the Veins is sent to all the Members; each parcel of the Body
draws it then unto its self, and after its own fashion is cherished and ali|mented by it: Feet,
Hands, Thighs, Arms, Eyes, Ears, Back, Breast, yea, all; and then it is, that who before were
Lenders, now become Debtors. The Heart doth 49 in its left side Ventricle so thinnifie the Blood,
that it thereby obtains the Name of Spiritual; which being sent through the Arteries to all the
Members of the Bo|dy, serveth to warm and winnow the o|ther Blood which runneth through the
Veins: The Lights never cease with its Lappets and Bellows to cool and refresh it; in
acknowledgment of which good the Heart through the Arterial Vein im|parts unto it the choicest
of its Blood: At last it is made so fine and subtle within the Rete Mirabilis, that thereafter those
Animal Spirits are framed and composed of it; by means whereof the Imagination, Dis|course,
Judgment, Resolution, Delibera|tion, Ratrocination and Memory have their Rise, Actings and
Operations.

Cops body, I sink, I drown, I perish, I wander astray, and quite fly out of my self, when I enter
into the Consideration of the profound Abyss of this World, thus lending, thus owing. Believe
me, it is a Divine thing to lend, to owe an Heroick Vertue. Yet is not this all; this little World
thus lending, owing and borrowing, is so good and charitable, that no sooner is the above-
specified Alimentation finish|ed, but that it forthwith projecteth, and hath already forecast, how it
shall lend to those who are not as yet born, and by 50 that Loan endeavour, what it may, to
eternize it self, and multiply in Images like the Pattern, that is, Children. To this end every
Member hath of the choi|cest and most precious of its Nourishment, pare and cut off a Portion,
then instantly dispatcheth it downwards to that place, where Nature hath prepared for it very fit
Vessels and Receptacles, through which descending to the Genitories by long Am|bages, Circuits
and Flexuosities, it receiv|eth a competent Form, and Rooms apt enough both in the Man and
Woman for the future Conservation and perpetuating of Humane kind. All this is done by Loans
and Debts of the one unto the other; and hence have we this word, the Debt of Mar|riage. Nature
doth reckon Pain to the Refuser, with a most grievous Vexation to his Members, and an
outragious Fury amidst his Senses. But on the other part, to the Lender a set Reward,
accompanied with Pleasure, Joy, Solace, Mirth and merry Glee.
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51

CHAP. V. How Pantagruel altogether abhorreth the Debtors and Borrowers.

I Understand you very well, (quoth Pantagruel) and take you to be very good at Topicks, and
throughly affection|ed to your own Cause: But preach it up, and patrocinate it; prattle on it, and
de|fend it as much as you will, even from hence to the next Whitsuntide, if you please so to do,
yet in the end will you be astonished to find how you shall have gained no ground at all upon me,
nor perswaded me by your fair Speeches and smooth Talk to enter never so little into the
Thraldom of Debt. You shall owe to none (saith the Holy Apostle) any thing save Love,
Friendship and a mutual Bene|volence.

You serve me here, I confess, with fine Graphides and Diatyposes, Descriptions and Figures,
which truly please me very well: But let me tell you, if you will represent unto your Fancy an
impudent blustering Bully and an importunate Borrower, en|tring 52 afresh and newly into a
Town al|ready advertised of his Manners, you shall find that at his Ingress the Citizens will be
more hideously affrighted and amazed, and in a greater terror and fear, dread and trembling, than
if the Pest it self should step into it in the very same Garb and Accoutrement wherein the
Tyanaean Philosopher found it within the City of Ephesus. And I am fully confirmed in the
Opinion, that the Persians erred not, when they said, That the Second Vice was to Lie, the first
being that of owing Money. For in very truth, Debts and Lying are or|dinarily joyned together. I
will never|theless not from hence infer, that none must owe any thing, or lend any thing. For who
so rich can be, that sometimes may not owe; or who can be so poor, that sometimes may not
lend?

Let the occasion notwithstanding in that case (as Plato very wisely sayeth, and ordaineth in his
Laws) be such, that none be permitted to draw any Water out of his Neighbour's Well, until first,
they by continual digging and delving into their own proper Ground, shall have hit upon a kind
of Potters Earth, which is called Ceramite, and there had found no source or drop of Water; for
that sort of Earth, by reason of its Substance, which 53 is fat, strong, firm and close; so retaineth
its Humidity, that it doth not easily eva|porate it by any outward excursion or evaporation.

In good sooth, it is a great shame to choose rather to be still borrowing in all places from every
one, than to work and win. Then only in my Judgment should one lend, when the diligent, toiling
and in|dustrious Person is no longer able by his labour to make any Purchase unto him|self, or
otherwise, when by mischance he hath suddenly fallen into an unexpected loss of his Goods.

Howsoever let us leave this Discourse, and from henceforwards do not hang upon Creditors, nor
tie your self to them; I make account for the time past to rid you freely of them, and from their
Bon|dage to deliver you. The least I should in this point, (quoth Panurge) is to thank you, though
it be the most I can do: And if Gratitude and Thanksgiving be to be estimated and prized by the
Affection of the Benefactor, that is to be done in|finitely and sempiternally; for the love which
you bear me of your own accord and free Grace, without any merit of mine, goeth far beyond the
reach of any price or value; it transcends all weight, all number, all measure, it is endless and 54
 266

everlasting; therefore should I offer to commensurate and adjust it, either to the size and
proportion of your own noble and gracious Deeds, or yet to the Content|ment and Delight of the
obliged Recei|vers, I would come off but very faintly and flaggingly. You have verily done me a
great deal of good, and multiplied your Favours on me more frequently than was fitting to one of
my condition. You have been more bountiful towards me than I have deserved, and your
Courtesies have by far surpassed the extent of my merits, I must needs confess it. But it is not, as
you suppose, in the proposed matter: For there it is not where I itch, it is not there where it
fretteth, hurts or vexeth me; for henceforth being quit and out of Debt, what Countenance will I
be able to keep? You may imagine that it will become me very ill, for the first month, because I
have never hitherto been brought up or accustomed to it, I am very much afraid of it.
Further|more, there shall not one hereafter, Native of the Country of Salmigondy, but he shall
level the Shot towards my Nose; all the back-cracking Fellows of the World, in discharging of
their Postern Petarades, use commonly to say, Voila pour les quitters; that is, For the quit. My 55
Life will be of very short continuance, I do foresee it, I recommend to you the making of my
Epitaph; for I perceive I will die confected in the very stinch of Farts. If at any time to come, by
way of restorative to such good Women as shall happen to be troubled with the grie|vous pain of
the Wind-Cholick, the ordi|nary Medicaments prove nothing effectu|al, the Mummy of all my
befarted Body will streight be as a present Remedy ap|pointed by the Physicians; whereof they
taking any small Modicum, it will inconti|nently for their Ease afford them a Rattle of Bum-shot,
like a Sal of Muskets.

Therefore would I beseech you to leave me some few Centuries of Debts; as King Louis the
Eleventh, exempting from Suits in Law the Reverend Milles d' Illiers, Bi|shop of Chartre, was
by the said Bishop most earnestly sollicited to leave him some few for the Exercise of his mind. I
had rather give them all my Revenue of the Periwinkles, together with the other In|comes of the
Locusts, albeit I should not thereby have any parcel abated from off the principal Sums which I
owe. Let us wave this matter (quoth Pantagruel) I have told it you over again.

56

CHAP. VI. Why new Married Men were priviledg|ed from going to the Wars.

BUT, in the Interim, asked Panurge, by what Law was it constituted, or|dained and established,
that such as should plant a new Vineyard, those that should build a new House, and the new
married Men should be exempted and discharged from the Duty of Warfare for the first year? By
the Law (answered Pantagruel) of Moyses. Why (replyed Panurge) the lately married? As for
the Vine-Planters, I am now too old to reflect on them; my Condition, at this present, induceth
me to remain satisfied with the care of Vintage, finishing and turning the Grapes into Wine: Nor
are these pretty new Builders of Dead Stones written or pricked down in my Book of Life; it is
all with Live Stones that I set up, and erect the Fabricks of my Architecture, to wit, Men. It was
(according to my Opinion, quoth Pantagruel) to the end, First, That the fresh married Folks
should for the first 57 year reap a full and compleat Fruition of their Pleasures in their mutual
exercise of the act of Love, in such sort, that in waiting more at leisure on the production of
Poste|rity, and propagating of their Progeny, they might the better encrease their Race, and make
 267

Provision of new Heirs. That if in the years thereafter the Men should, up|on their undergoing of
some Military Adventure, happen to be killed, their Names and Coats of Arms might conti|nue
with their Children in the same Fa|milies: And next that, the Wives there|by, coming to know
whether they were barren or fruitful (for one years Trial, in regard of the maturity of Age,
wherein; of old, they married, was held sufficient for the Discovery) they might pitch the more
suitably, in case of their first Hus|bands Decease, upon a Second Match. The fertile Women to be
wedded to those who desire to multiply their Issue; and the steril ones to such other Mates, as
misre|garding the storing of their own Lineage, choose them only for their Vertues, Learning,
Genteel Behaviour, Domestick Consolation, management of the House, and Matrimonial
Conveniences and Com|forts, and such like. The Preacher of Va|rennes (saith Panarge) detest
and abhor the Second Marriages, as altogether foolish and dishonest.

58 Foolish and dishonest, (quoth Pantagru|el) a plague take such Preachers! Yea but (quoth
Panurge) the like Mischief also befal the Friar, Charmer, who in a full Auditory, making a
Sermon at Perille, and therein abominating the Reiteration of Marriage, and the entring again in
the Bonds of a Nuptial Tie, did swear and heartily give himself to the swiftest Devil in Hell, if he
had not rather choose, and would much more willingly undertake the unmaidning or
depucelating of a hundred Virgins, than the simple Drudgery of one Widow. Truly I find your
Reason in that point right good, and strongly grounded.

But what would you think, if the Cause why this Exemption or Immunity was granted, had no
other Foundation, but that, during the whole space of the said first year, they so lustily bobbed it
with their Female Consorts, (as both Reason and Equity require they should do) that they had
drained and evacuated their Spermatick Vessels; and were become thereby altogether feeble,
weak, emascu|lated, drooping and flaggingly pithless; yea, in such sort, that they in the day of
Battel, like Ducks which plunge over Head and Ears, would sooner hide them|selves behind the
Baggage than in the Company of valiant Fighters and daring 59 Military Combatants, appear
where stern Bellona deals her Blows, and moves a bustling Noise of Thwacks and Thumps. Nor
is it to be thought that under the Standard of Mars they will so much as once strike a fair Stroke,
because their most considerable Knocks have been al|ready jerked and whirrited within the
Curtines of his Sweet-heart Venus.

In confirmation whereof, amongst other Relicks and Monuments of Antiquity, we now as yet
often see, that in all great Houses, after the expiring of some few days, these young married
Blades are rea|dily sent away to visit their Uncles, that in the Absence of their Wives, reposing
themselves a little, they may recover their decayed Strength by the Recruit of a fresh Supply, the
more vigorous to return a|gain, and face about to renew the dueling Shock and Conflict of an
amorous Dalli|ance: Albeit (for the greater part) they have neither Uncle nor Aunt to go to.

Just so did the King Crackart, after the Battle of the Cornets, not cashier us, (speaking properly)
I mean me and the Quailecaller, but for our Refreshment re|manded us to our Houses; and he is
as yet seeking after his own. My Grandfa|thers Godmother was wont to say to me when I was a
Boy,
60

Patonisters & Oraisons

 268

Sont pour ceux-la qui les retiennent.

Un fiffre en frenaisons
Est plus fort que deux qui en viennent.

Not Orisons nor Patrenotres

Shall ever disorder my Brain.
One Cadet, to the Field as he flutters,
Is worth two when they end the Campagn.

That which prompteth me to that O|pinion, is, that the Vine-Planters did sel|dom eat of the
Grapes, or drink of the Wine of their Labour, till the first year was wholly elapsed: During all
which time also the Builders did hardly inhabit their new structured Dwelling places, for fear of
dying suffocated through want of Respiration; as Galen hath most learned|ly remarked, in the
Second Book of the Difficulty of Breathing. Under favour, Sir, I have not asked this Question
without Cause causing, and Reason truly very ratiocinant. Be not offended I pray you.

61

CHAP. VII. How Panurge had a Flea in his Ear, and forbore to wear any longer his
magnificent Codpiece.

PAnurge the day thereafter, caused pierce his right Ear, after the Pewish Fashion, and thereto
clasped a little Gold Ring, of a Fearny-like kind of Work|manship, in the Beazil or Collet
where|of was set and inchased a Flea; and to the end you may be rid of all Doubts, you are to
know that the Flea was black. O what a brave thing it is, in every case and circumstance of a
matter, to be through|ly well informed! The Sum of the Ex|pence hereof, being cast up, brought
in, and laid down upon his Council-board Carpet, was found to amount to no more quarterly than
the Charge of the Nuptials of a Hircanian Tigress; even as you would say 600000 Maravedis. At
these vast Costs and excessive Disbursements, as soon as he perceived himself to be out of Debt,
he fretted much; and after|wards, 62 as Tyrants and Lawyers use to do, he nourish'd and fed her
with the Sweat and Blood of his Subjects and Clients.

He then took four French Ells of a course brown Russet Cloth, and therein appa|relling himself,
as with a long, plain-seem|ed and single-stitched Gown, left off the wearing of his Breeches, and
tied a pair of Spectacles to his Cap. In this Equi|page did he present himself before Panta|gruel;
to whom this Disguise appeared the more strange, that he did not, as be|fore, see that goodly, fair
and stately Cod|piece, which was the sole Anchor of Hope, wherein he was wonted to rely, and
last Refuge he had 'midst all the Waves and boysterous Billows, which a stormy Cloud in a cross
Fortune would raise up against him. Honest Pantagruel, not understanding the Mystery, asked
him by way of interrogatory, what he did intend to personate in that new-fan|gled Prosopopeia? I
have (answered Pa|nurge) a Flea in mine Ear, and have a mind to marry. In a good time (quoth
 269

Panta|gruel) you have told me joyful Tidings; yet would not I hold a red hot Iron in my hand for
all the Gladness of them. But it is not the fashion of Lovers to be accoutred in such dangling
Vestments, so as to have their Shirts flagging down over 63 their Knees, without Breeches, and
with a long Robe of a dark brown mingled Hue, which is a Colour never used, in Ta|larian
Garments amongst any Persons of Honour, Quality or Vertue. If some Heretical Persons and
Schismatical Secta|ries have at any time formerly been so arrayed and cloathed, (though many
have imputed such a kind of Dress to Cosenage, Cheat, Imposture, and an Affectation of
Tyranny upon credulous Minds of the rude Multitude) I will nevertheless not blame them for it,
nor in that point judge rashly or sinistrously of them; every one overflowingly aboundeth in his
own Sense and Fancy: Yea, in things of a Foreign Consideration, altogether extrinsical and
indifferent, which in and of themselves are neither commendable nor bad, because they proceed
not from the Interior of the Thoughts and Heart, which is the Shop of all Good and Evil. Of
Goodness, if it be upright, and that its Affections be re|gulated by the pure and clean Spirit of
Righteousness; and on the other side, of Wickedness, if its Inclinations, stray|ing beyond the
bounds of Equity be cor|rupted and depraved by the Malice and Suggestions of the Devil. It is
only the Novelty and new-fangledness thereof which I dislike, together with the Con|tempt 64 of
common Custom, and the Fashi|on which is in use.

The Colour (answered Panurge) is con|venient, for it is conform to that of my Council-Board

Carpet, therefore will I henceforth hold me with it, and more narrowly and circumspectly than
ever hi|therto I have done, look to my Affairs and Business. Seeing I am once out of Debt, you
never yet saw Man more unpleasing then I will be, if God help me not. Lo here be my
Spectacles. To see me afar off, you would readily say, that it were Fryar Burgess. I believe
certainly, that in the next ensuing Year, I shall once more preach the Croisade, Bounce Buckram.
Do you see this Russet? doubt not but there lurketh under it some hid Property and occult Vertue,
known to very few in the World. I did not take it on before this Morning; and nevertheless, am
already in a rage of Lust, mad after a Wife, and vehemently hot upon untying the Codpiece-
point, I itch, I tingle, I wriggle, and long exceed|ingly to be married; that without the danger of
Cudgel-blows, I may labour my Female Copes-mate with the hard push of a Bull-horned Devil.
O the pro|vident and thrifty Husband that I then will be! After my Death, with all Ho|nour and
Respect due to my Frugality, 65 will they burn the Sacred Bulk of my Bo|dy, of purpose to
preserve the Ashes there|of, in memory of the choicest Pattern that ever was, of a perfectly wary,
and compleat Housholder. Cops-body, this is not the Carpet whereon my Treasurer shall be
allowed to play false in his Ac|compts with me, by setting down an X for an V, or an L for an S;
for in that case, should I make a hail of Fifti-cuffs to fly into his face. Look upon me (Sir) both
before and behind, it is made after the manner of a Toge, which was the an|cient fashion of the
Romans in time of Peace. I took the Mode, Shape, and Form thereof in Trajan's Column at
Rome, as also in the Triumphant Arch of Septi|mus Severus. I am tired of the Wars, wea|ry of
wearing Buff-coats, Cassocks, and Hoquetons. My Shoulders are pitifully worn, and bruised with
the carrying of Harness; let Armour cease, and the Long Robe bear sway: at least it must be so
for the whole space of the succeeding Years. If I be married as yesterday, by the Mosaick Law,
you evidenced, in what concerneth the Breeches: my great Aunt Laurence did long ago tell me,
that the Breeches were only ordained for the use of the Codpiece, and to no other end; which I,
upon a no less forcible consequence, give Credit to, 66 every whit as well, as to the Saying of the
fine Fellow Galen, who in his Ninth Book Of the Use, and Employment of our Members,
alledgeth, That the Head was made for the Eyes: for Nature might have placed our Heads in our
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Knees or Elbows, but having before-hand determined that the Eyes should serve to discover
things from afar, she for the better enabling them to execute their designed Office, fixed them in
the Head (as on the top of a long Pole) in the most eminent part of all the Body: no otherwise
then we see the Phares, or high Towers erected in the Mouths of Ha|vens, that Navigators may
the further off perceive with ease the Lights of the night|ly Fires and Lanterns. And because I
would gladly, for some short while (a Year at least) take a little rest and breathing-time from the
toylsome Labour of the Military Profession; that is to say, be married, I have desisted from
wearing any more a Codpiece, and consequently have laid a|side my Breeches: for the Codpiece
is the principal and most especial Piece of Ar|mour that a Warriour doth carry; and therefore do I
maintain even to the Fire (exclusively, understand you me) that no Turks can properly be said to
be armed Men, in regard that Codpieces are by their Law forbidden to be worn.

67

CHAP. VIII. Why the Codpiece is held to be the chief piece of Armour amongst Warriours.

WIll you maintain (quoth Pantagruel) that the Codpiece is the chief piece of a Military Harness?
It is a new kind of Doctrine very paradoxical: for we say at Spurs begins the arming of a Man.
Sir, I maintain it, (answered Pa|nurge) and not wrongfully do I maintain it. Behold how Nature
having a fervent desire after its Production of Plants, Trees, Shrubs, Herbs, Sponges, and plant
Animals, to eternize, and continue them unto all Succession of Ages (in their several Kinds, or
Sorts at least, although the Individuals perish) unruinable, and in an everlasting Being, hath most
cu|riously armed and fenced their Buds, Sprouts, Shutes, and Seeds, wherein the above-
mentioned perpetuity consisteth, by strengthning, covering, guarding, and fortifying them with
an admirable indu|stry, with Husks, Cases, Scurfs, and Swads, 68 Hulls, Cods, Stones, Films,
Cartels, Shells, Ears, Rinds, Barks, Skins, Ridges, and Prickles, which serve them instead of
strong, fair, and natural Codpieces: as is manifestly apparent in Pease, Beans, Fa|sels,
Pomegranates, Peaches, Cottons, Gourds, Pumpions, Melons, Corn, Le|mons, Almonds,
Walnuts, Filberts, and Chestnuts; as likewise in all Plants, Slips, or Sets whatsoever, wherein it is
plainly and evidently seen, that the Sperm and Semenae is more closely veiled, oversha|dowed,
corroborated, and throughly har|nessed than any other part, portion, or parcel of the whole.

Nature nevertheless did not after that manner provide for the sempiternizing of Human Race: but
on the contrary crea|ted Man naked, tender, and frail, with|out either offensive or defensive
Arms; and that in the Estate of Innocence, in the first Age of all, which was the Golden Season;
not as a Plant, but living Crea|ture, born for Peace, not War, and brought forth into the World
with an unquestio|nable Right and Title to the plenary fru|ition and enjoyment of all Fruits and
Ve|getables; as also to a certain calm and gentle Rule and Dominion over all Kinds of Beasts,
Fowls, Fishes, Reptils, and In|sects. Yet afterwards it hapning in the 69 time of the Iron Age,
under the Reign of Iupiter, when to the multiplication of mischievous Actions, wickedness and
ma|lice began to take root and footing with|in the then perverted Hearts of Men, that the Earth
began to bring forth Nettles, Thistles, Thorns, Bryars, and such other stubborn and rebellious
Vegetables to the Nature of Man; nor scarce was there any Animal, which by a fatal disposition
did not then revolt from him, and tacitly con|spire, and covenant with one another to serve him
 271

no longer, (nor in case of their ability to resist) to do him any manner of Obedience, but rather
(to the uttermost of their power) to annoy him with all the hurt and harm they could. The Man
then, that he might maintain his primi|mitive Right and Prerogative, and conti|nue his Sway and
Dominion over all, both Vegetable and Sensitive Creatures; and knowing of a truth, that he could
not be well accommodated as he ought, without the servitude and subjection of several A|nimals,
bethought himself, that of necessi|ty he must needs put on Arms, and make provision of Harness
against Wars and Violence. By the holy Saint Babingoose, (cried out Pantagruel) you are
become, since the last Rain, a great Lifre lofre, Philosopher, I should say. Take Notice, 70 Sir,
(quoth Panurge) when Dame Nature had prompted him to his own Arming, what part of the
Body it was, where, by her Inspiration, he clapped on the first Harness: It was forsooth by the
double pluck of my little Dog the Ballock, and good Senor Don Priapos Stabo-stando, which
done, he was content, and sought no more. This is certified by the Testimony of the great
Hebrew Captain Philosopher Moyses, who affirmeth, That he fenced that Member with a brave
and gallant Codpiece, most exquisitely framed, and by right curious Devices of a notably
pregnant Invention, made up and com|posed of Fig-tree-leaves, which by reason of their solid
stiffness, incisory notches, curled frisling, sleeked smoothness, large ampleness, together with
their colour, smell, vertue, and faculty, were exceed|ing proper, and fit for the covering and
arming of the Sachels of Generation, the hideously big Lorram Cullions being from thence only
excepted; which swaggring down to the lowermost bottom of the Breeches, cannot abide (for
being quite out of all order and method) the stately fashion of the high and lofty Codpiece; as is
manifest, by the Noble Valentin Vi|ardiere, whom I found at Nancie, on the First Day of May
(the more flauntingly 71 to gallantrize it afterwards) rubbing his Ballocks, spread out upon a
Table after the manner of a Spanish Cloak. Where|fore it is, that none should henceforth say,
who would not speak improperly, when any Country-Bumpkin hyeth to the Wars, Have a care,
(my Roysters, of the Wine-pot, that is the Scull, but have a care (my Royster) of the Milk-pot;
that is, the Testicles. By the whole Rabble of the horned Fiends of Hell, the Head being cut off,
that single Person only thereby dieth: but if the Ballocks be marred, the whole Race of Humane
Kind would forthwith perish, and be lost for ever.

This was the motive which incited the goodly Writer Galen, Lib. 1. De Spermate, to aver with
boldness, That it were better (that is to say, a less evil) to have no Heart at all, than to be quite
destitute of Genitories: for there is laid up, conserved, and put in store, as in a Secessive
Repository, and Sacred Warehouse, the Semenae, and Ori|ginal Source of the whole Off-spring
of Mankind. Therefore would I be apt to believe, for less than a hundred Franks, that those are
the very same Stones, by means whereof Deucalion and Pyrrha resto|red the Humane Race, in
peopling with Men and Women the World, which a little before that, had been drowned in 72 the
overflowing Waves of a Poetical Deluge. This stirred up the valiant Iu|stinian, L. 1.4. De Cagotis
tollendis, to collocate his Summum Bonum, in Bra|guibus, & Braguetis. For this, and other
Causes, the Lord Humphry de Merville, following of his King to a certain War|like Expedition,
whilst he was in trying upon his own Person a new Suit of Ar|mour, for of his old rusty Harness
he could make no more use, by reason that some few Years since, the Skin of his Belly was a
great way removed from his Kidneys, his Lady thereupon in the pro|found musing of a
contemplative Spirit, very maturely considering that he had but small care of the Staff of Love,
and Packet of Marriage, seeing he did no otherways arm that part of the Body, then with Links of
Mail, advised him to shield, fence, and gabionate it with a big tilting Helmet, which she had
lying in her Closet, to her otherways utterly unprofitable. On this Lady was penned these
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subsequent Verses; which are ex|tant in the Third Book of the Shi[...]brana of paultry Wenches.
73
When Yoland saw her Spouse, equipt for Fight,
And, save the Codpiece, all in Armour dight,
My Dear, she cry'd, Why, pray, of all the rest
Is that expos'd, you know I love the best?
Was she to blame for an ill-manag'd fear?
Or rather pious, conscionable Care:
Wise Lady, She! in hurly-burly Fight,
Can any tell where random Blows may hit?
Leave off then (Sir) from being astonish|ed, and wonder no more at this new manner of decking
and trimming up of my self as you now see me.

74

CHAP. IX. How Panurge asketh Counsel of Panta|gruel whether he should marry, Yea, or
No.

TO this Pantagruel replying nothing, Panurge prosecuted the Discourse he had already
broached, and therewithal fetching, as far from the bottom of his Heart, a very deep sigh, said,
My Lord and Master, you have heard the Design I am upon, which is to marry, if by some
disastrous mischance, all the Holes in the World be not shut up, stopped, closed, and bush'd. I
humbly beseech you for the Af|fection which of a long time you have born me, to give me your
best Advice therein. Then (answered Pantagruel) seeing you have so decreed, taken deliberation
there|on, and that the matter is fully determined, what need is there of any further Talk thereof,
but forthwith to put it into exe|cution what you have resolved. Yea, but (quoth Panurge) I would
be loath to act any thing therein without your Counsel 75 had thereto. It is my Judgment also
(quoth Pantagruel) and I advise you to it. Never|theless (quoth Panurge) if I understood a|right
that it were much better for me to remain a Batchellor as I am, than to run headlong upon new
hair-brain'd Under|takings of Conjugal Adventure, I would rather choose not to marry, quoth
Pan|tagruel. Then do not marry. Yea, but (quoth Panurge) would you have me so so|litarily
drive out the whole Course of my Life, without the Comfort of a Matrimo|nial Consort? You
know it is written, Vae soli, and a single Person is never seen to reap the Joy and Solace that is
found with married Folks. Then marry, in the Name of God, quoth Pantagruel. But if (quoth
Panurge) my Wife should make me a Cuckold; as it is not unknown unto you, how this hath
been a very plentiful Year in the production of that kind of Cattel; I would fly out, and grow
impatient, be|yond all measure and mean. I love Cuc|kolds with my Heart, for they seem unto me
to be of a right honest Conversation, and I, truly, do very willingly frequent their Company: but
should I die for it, I would not be one of their number, that is a Point for me of a two-sore
prickling Point. Then do not marry (quoth Pan|tagruel) for without all controversie, this 76
Sentence of Seneca is infallibly true, What thou to others shalt have done, others will do the like
to thee. Do you (quoth Panurge) aver that without all exceptions? Yes, truly, (quoth Pantagruel)
without all ex|ception. Ho, ho (says Panurge) by the Wrath of a little Devil, his meaning is,
either in this World, or in the other, which is to come. Yet seeing I can no more want a Wife,
 273

then a blind Man his Staff, the Funnel must be in agitation, without which manner of Occupation
I cannot live. Were it not a great deal better for me to apply and associate my self to some one
honest, lovely, and vertuous Woman, then (as I do) by a new change of Females every Day, run a
hazard of being Bastinadoed, or (which is worse) of the Great Pox, if not of both toge|ther: For
never (be it spoken, by their Husbands leave and favour) had I en|joyment yet of an honest
Woman. Mar|ry then in God's Name, quoth Panta|gruel. But if (quoth Panurge) it were the Will
of God, and that my Destiny did unluckily lead me to marry an ho|nest Woman who should beat
me, I would be stor'd with more than two third parts of the Patience of Iob, if I were not stark
mad by it, and quite di|stracted with such rugged Dealings: for 77 it hath been told me, that those
exceed|ing honest Women have ordinarily very wicked Head-pieces; therefore is it that their
Family lacketh not for good Vi|negar. Yet in that case should it go worse with me, if I did not
then in such sort bang her Back and Breast, so thump|ingly bethwack her Gillets, to wit, her
Arms, Legs, Head, Lights, Liver, and Milt, with her other Intrails, and man|gle, jag, and slash her
Coats, so after the Cross billet fashion, that the greatest Devil of Hell should wait at the Gate for
the reception of her damned Soul. I could make a shift for this Year to wave such molestation
and disquiet, and be content to lay aside that trouble, and not to be engaged in it.

Do not marry then, answered Panta|gruel. Yea, but (quoth Panurge) consi|dering the Condition
wherein I now am, out of Debt and Unmarried; mark what I say, free from all Debt, in an ill hour
(for were I deeply on the Score, my Cre|ditors would be but too careful of my Paternity) but
being quit, and not mar|ried, no Body will be so regardful of me, or carry towards me a Love like
that which is said to be in a Conjugal Affecti|on. And if by some mishap I should fall sick, I
would be lookt to very waywardly. 78 The wise Man saith, Where there is no Woman (I mean
the Mother of a Family, and Wife in the Union of a lawful Wed|lock) the Crazy and Diseased
are in danger of being ill used, and of having much brab|ling and strife about them: as by clear
Ex|perience hath been made apparent in the Persons of Popes, Legates, Cardinals· Bi|shops,
Abbots, Priors, Priests and Monks: but there, assure your self, you shall not find me. Marry then
in the Name of God, answered Pantagruel. But if (quoth Panurge) being ill at ease, and possibly
thrô that Distemper, made unable to discharge the Matrimonial Duty that is incumbent to an
active Husband, my Wife, impati|ent of that drooping Sickness, and faint Fits, of a pining
Languishment, should abandon and prostitute herself to the Em|braces of another Man, and not
only then not help and assist me in my ex|tremity and need, but withal f[...]out at, and make sport
of that my grievous Di|stress and Calamity; or peradventure, (which is worse) imbezzle my
Goods, and steal from me, as I have seen it often|times befal unto the lot of many other Men, it
were enough to undo me utterly, to fill brimfull the Cup of my Misfortune, and make me play the
Mad-pate Reeks of Bedlam. Do not marry then (quoth 79 Pantagruel). Yea, but (saith Panurge) I
shall never by any other means come to have lawful Sons and Daughters, in whom I may harbour
some hope of perpetuating my Name and Arms, and to whom also I may leave and bequeath my
Inheritan|ces and purchased Goods, (of which lat|ter sort you need not doubt, but that in some
one or other of these Mornings, I will make a fair and goodly show) that so I may chear up and
make merry, when otherways I should be plunged into a pie|vish sullen Mood of pensive
sullenness, as I do perceive daily by the gentle and lo|ving Carriage of your kind and gracious
Father towards you; as all honest Folks use to do at their own Homes, and private Dwelling-
houses. For being free from Debt, and yet not married, if casually I should fret and be angry,
although the cause of my Grief and Displeasure were never so just, I am afraid instead of
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Conso|lation, that I should meet with nothing else but Scoffs, Frumps, Gibes, and Mocks at my
disastrous Fortune. Marry then in the Name of God, quoth Pantagruel.

80

CHAP. X. How Pantagruel representeth unto Pa|nurge the difficulty of giving Advice in the
matter of Marriage; and to that purpose mentioneth somewhat of the Homerick and
Virgilian Lotte|ries.

YOur Counsel (quoth Panurge) under your Correction and Favour, seem|eth unto me not unlike
to the Song of Gammer Yeabynay; it is full of Sarcasms, Mockqueries, bitter Taunts, nipping
Bobs, derisive Quips, biting Jerks, and contradictory Iterations, the one part de|stroying the other.
I know not (quoth Pantagruel) which of all my Answers to lay hold on; for your Proposals are so
full of ifs and buts, that I can ground no|thing on them, nor pitch upon any solid and positive
Determination satisfactory to what is demanded by them. Are not you assured within your self of
what you have a mind to? the chief and main point of the whole matter lieth there; all the rest 81
is meerly casual, and totally dependeth upon the fatal Disposition of the Hea|vens.

We see some so happy in the fortune of this Nuptial Encounter, that their Fa|mily shineth (as it
were) with the radiant Effulgency of an Idea, Model or Repre|sentation of the Joys of Paradice;
and perceive others again to be so unluckily match'd in the Conjugal Yoak, that those very basest
of Devils, which tempt the Hermits that inhabit the Deserts of The|baida and Montserrat, are not
more mise|rable than they. It is therefore expedient, seeing you are resolved for once to take a
trial of the state of Marriage, that, with shut Eyes, bowing your Head, and kis|sing the Ground,
you put the business to a Venture, and give it a fair hazard in recommending the success of the
residue to the disposure of Almighty God. It lieth not in my power to give you any other manner
of Assurance, or otherways to certifie you of what shall ensue on this your Undertaking.
Nevertheless (if it please you) this you may do, Bring hi|ther Virgil's Poems, that after having
o|pened the Book, and without Fingers se|ver'd the Leaves thereof three several times, we may,
according to the num|ber agreed upon betwixt our selves, ex|plore 82 the future Hap of your
intended Marriage: For frequently, by a Homerick Lottery, have many hit upon their De|stinies;
as is testified in the Person of So|crates, who, whilst he was in Prison, hear|ing the Recitation of
this Verse of Ho|mer said of Achilles, in the Ninth of the Iliads,

[...].

We, the third day, to fertile Pthia came.

Thereby foresaw that on the third subse|quent day he was to die: Of the truth whereof he assured
Aschines, as Plato, in Critone; Cicero, in primo de Divinatione; Diogines Laertius, and others,
 275

have to the full recorded in their Works. The like is also witnessed by Opilius Macrinus, to
whom, being desirous to know if he should be the Roman Emperor, befell, by chance of Lot, this
Sentence in the eighth of the Iliads,

[...],
[...].

Dotard, new Warriours urge thee to be gone.

Thy Life decays, and old Age weighs thee down.

83 In Fact, he being then somewhat An|cient, had hardly enjoyed the Sovereignty of the Empire
for the space of Fourteen Months, when by Heliogabulus (then both young and strong) he was
disposess'd thereof, thrust out of all, and killed. Brutus also doth bear witness of another
Experi|ment of this nature, who willing, through this exploratory way by Lot, to learn what the
Event and Issue should be of the Phar|salian Battel, wherein he perished, he ca|sually
encountred on this Verse, said of Patroclus in the Sixteenth of the Iliads,

[...].

Fate, and Latona's Son have shot me dead.

And accordingly Apollo was the Field|word in the dreadful Day of that Fight. Divers notable
things of old have like|ways been foretold and known by casting of Virgilian Lots; yea, in
matters of no less importance than the obtaining of the Roman Empire, as it happened to
Alexan|der Severus, who trying his Fortune at the said kind of Lottery, did hit upon this Verse
written in the Sixth of the Aeneids,
84

Tu regere imperio populos Romane momento.

Know, Roman, that thy business is to Reign.

He within very few years thereafter was effectually and in good earnest created and installed
Roman Emperor. A sem|blable Story thereto is related of Adrian, who being hughly perplexed
within him|self, out of a longing Humour to know in what Accompt he was with the Em|peror
 276

Trajan, and how large the measure of that Affection was which he did bear unto him, had
recourse after the manner above specified, to the Maronian Lottery, which by hap hazard
tender'd him these Lines out of the Sixth of the Aeneids,

Quis procul ille autem ramis insignis olivae

Sacra ferens? nosco crines incana{que} menta
Regis Romani.

But who is he, conspicuous from afar,

With Olive Boughs, that doth his Offerings bear?
By the white Hair and Beard I know him plain,
The Roman King.

85 Shortly thereafter was he adopted by Tra|jan, and succeeded to him in the Empire. Moreover
to the Lot of the praise-wor|thy Emperor Claudius befel this Line of Virgil, written in the Sixth
of his Aeneids,

Tertia dum Latio regnantem viderit aestas,

Whilst the third Summer saw him Reign, a King

In Latium.

And in effect he did not Reign a|bove two years. To the said Claudian also, enquiring concerning
his Brother Quintilius, whom he proposed as a Col|league with himself in the Empire, hap|ned
the Responce following in the sixth of the Aeneids,

Ostendent terris hunc tantum fata.

---Whom Fate let us see,

And would no longer suffer him to be.

And it so fell out; for he was killed on the Seventeenth day after he had attained unto the
management of the Emperial Charge. The very same Lot also, with the like misluck, did betide
the Emperor 86 Gordian the younger. To Claudius Albi|nus, being very sollicitous to understand
 277

somewhat of his future Adventures, did occur this Saying, which is written in the sixth of the
Aeneids,

Hic rem Romanam magno turbante tumultu

Sistet Eques, &c.

The Romans boyling with tumultuous rage,

This Warriour shall the dangerous Storm asswage:
With Victories he the Carthaginian mawls,
And with strong hand shall crush the Rebel Gauls.

Likeways when the Emperor D. Claudi|us, Aurelian's Predecessor· did with great eagerness
research after the Fate to come of his Posterity, his hap was to alight on this Verse in the first of
the Aeneids,

Hic ego nec metas rerum, nec tempore pono.

No bounds are to be set, no limits here.

Which was fulfilled by the goodly Gene|alogical Row of his Race. When Mr. Pe|ter Amy did in
like manner explore and make trial, if he should escape the Am|bush of the Hobgoblins, who lay
in wait 87 all-to-bemawl him, he fell upon this Verse in the third of the Aeneids,,

Hugh fuge credules terras, fuge Littus ava|rum!

Oh flee the bloody Land, the wicked Shoar!

Which Counsel he obeying, safe and sound forthwith avoided all these Ambuscades.

Were it not to shun Prolixity, I could enumerate a thousand such like Adven|tures, which
conform to the Dictate and Verdict of the Verse, have by that man|ner of Lot-casting encounter
befallen to the curious Researchers of them. Do not you nevertheless imagine, lest you should be
deluded, that I would upon this kind of Fortune flinging Proof infer an uncon|trolable, and not to
be gainsaid Infallibility· of Truth.
 278

88

CHAP. XI. How Pantagruel sheweth the Trial of ones Fortune by the throwing of Dice to be
unlawful.

IT would be sooner done (quoth Pa|nurge) and more expeditely, if we should trie the matter at
the chance of three fair Dice. (Quoth Pantagruel) that sort of Lottery is deceitful, abusive,
illici|tous, and exceedingly scandalous; never trust in it; the accursed Book of the Recreation of
Dice was a great while ago excogitated in Achaia near Bourre, by that ancient Enemy to
Mankind, the Infernal Calumniator, who before the Statue or Massive Image of the Bourraick
Hercules, did of old, and doth in several places of the World as yet, make many simple Souls to
err and fall into his Snares. You know how my Father Gargantua hath forbidden it over all his
Kingdoms and Dominions; how he hath caused burn the Moulds and Draughts thereof, and
altogether suppres|sed, abolished, driven forth and cast it out 89 of the Land, as a most dangerous
Plague and Infection to any well-polished State or Commonwealth. What I have told you of
Dice, I say the same of the Play at Cockall. It is a Lottery of the like Guile and Deceitfulness;
and therefore do not for convincing of me, alledge in oppositi|on to this my Opinion, or bring in
the Example of the fortunate Cast of Teberi|us, within the Fountain of Appona, at the Oracle of
Gerion. These are the bait|ed Hooks by which the Devil attracts and draweth unto him the foolish
Souls of silly People into eternal Perdition.

Nevertheless to satisfie your Humour in some measure, I am content you throw three Dice upon
this Table, that accord|ing to the number of the Blots which shall happen to be cast up, we may
hit upon a Verse of that Page, which in the setting open of the Book you shall have pitched upon.

Have you any Dice in your Pocket? A whole Bag full, answered Panurge, that is Provision
against the Devil, as is ex|pounded by Merlin Coccajus, Lib. 2. De Patria Diabolorum, the Devil
would be sure to take me napping; and very much at un|awares, if he should find me without
Dice. With this the three Dice being taken out, produced and thrown, they fell so pat 90 upon the
lower Points, that the Cast was Five, Six and Five. These are (quoth Pa|nurge) Sixteen in all. Let
us take the Six|teenth Line of the Page, the number pleaseth me very well; I hope we shall have a
prosperous and happy Chance. May I be thrown amidst all the Devils of Hell, even as a great
Bowl cast athwart at a Set of Nine Pins, or Cannon-ball shot among a Batalion of Foot, in case so
ma|ny times I do not boult my future Wife the first Night of our Marriage. Of that, forsooth, I
make no doubt at all: (quoth Pantagruel) You needed not to have rap|ped forth such a horrid
Imprecation, the sooner to procure Credit for the Perfor|mance of so small a business, seeing
possi|bly the first Bout will be amiss, and that you know is usually at Tennis called Fif|teen. At
the next justling Turn you may readily amend that Fault, and so compleat your Reckoning of
Sixteen. Is it so (quoth Panurge) that you understand the matter? and must my Words be thus
interpreted? Nay, believe me, never yet was any So|lecism committed by that valiant Champi|on,
who often hath for me in Belly-dale stood Centry at the Hypogastrian Crany. Did you ever
hitherto find me in the Confraternity of the Faulty? Never, I trow; never, nor ever shall, for ever
and 91 a day. I do the Feat like a goodly Friar, or Father Confessor without Default: And therein
am I willing to be judged by the Players. He had no sooner spoke these Words, than the Works
 279

of Virgil were brought in: But before the Book was laid open, Panurge said to Pantagruel, My
Heart, like the Furch of a Hart in Rut, doth beat within my Breast. Be pleased to feel and grope
my Pulse a lit|tle on this Artery of my Left Arm; at its frequent Rise and Fall you would say that
they swinge and belabour me after the manner of a Probationer posed, and put to a peremptory
Trial in the Examination of his Sufficiency for the Discharge of the Learned Duty of a Graduate
in some Eminent Degree in the Colledge of the Sorbonists.

But would not you hold it expedient, before we proceeded any further, that we should invocate
Hercules and the Teni|tian. Goddesses, who in the Chamber of Lots are said to Rule, sit in
Judgment, and bear a Presidential Sway? Neither him nor them, (answered Pantagruel) only
o|pen up the Leaves of the Book with your Fingers, and set your Nails awork.

92

CHAP. XII. How Pantagruel doth explore by the Virgilian Lottery what Fortune Pa|nurge
shall have in his Marriage.

THen at the opening of the Book in the Sixteenth Row of the Lines of the disclosed Page, did
Panurge encounter upon this following Verse:

Nec Deus hunc mensa Dea nec Dignata cubili est.

The God him from his Table banished,

Nor would the Goddess have him in her Bed.

This Response (quoth Pantagruel) ma|keth not very much for your benefit or advantage: for it
plainly signifies and de|noteth, that your Wife shall be a Strum|pet, and your self by consequence
a Cuc|kold; the Goddess, whom you shall not find propitious nor favourable unto you, is
Minerva, a most redoubtable and dread|ful 93 Virgin, a powerful and fulminating Goddess, an
Enemy to Cuckolds, and ef|feminate Youngsters, to Cuckold-makers and Adulterers: the God is
Iupiter, a terrible and Thunder-striking God from Heaven; and withal, it is to be remarked, that
conform to the Doctrine of the anci|ent Hetrurians, the Manubes (for so did they call the darting
Hurls, or slinging Casts of the Vulcanian Thunderbolts) did on|ly appertain to her, and to Iupiter
her Fa|ther Capital. This was verified in the Conflagration of the Ships of Ajax Oileus, nor doth
this fulminating Power belong to any other of the Olympick Gods; Men therefore stand not in
such fear of them. Moreover, I will tell you, and you may take it as extracted out of the
profoundest Mysteries of Mythology, that when the Giants had enterprized the waging of a War
against the Power of the Coelestial Orbs, the Gods at first did laugh at those Attempts, and
scorn'd such despicable Enemies, who were in their conceit, not strong enough to cope in Feats
 280

of Warfare with their Pages: but when they saw by the Gigantine labour the high Hill Pelion set
on lofty Ossa, and that the Mount O|lympus was made shake to be erected on the top of both.

94 Then was it that Iupiter held a Parlia|ment, or General Convention, wherein it was
unanimously resolved upon, and condescended to by all the Gods, that they should worthily and
valiantly stand to their Defence. And because they had often seen Battles lost by the cumbersome
lets and disturbing incumbrances of Wo|men, confusedly hudled in amongst Ar|mies, it was at
that time Decreed and Enacted, That they should expel and drive out of Heaven into Aegypt, and
the Confines of Nile, that whole Crue of Goddesses disguized in the shapes of Wee|zils, Polcats,
Bats, Shrew-Mice, Ferrets, Fulmarts, and other such like odd Trans|formations, only Minerva
was reserved to participate with Iupiter in the horrifick fulminating Power; as being the Goddess
both of War and Learning, of Arts and Arms, of Counsel and Dispatch; a God|dess armed from
her Birth, a Goddess dreaded in Heaven, in the Air, by Sea and Land. By the Belly of Saint Buff
(quoth Panurge) should I be Vulcan, whom the Poet blazons! Nay, I am neither a Cripple,
Coyner of false Money, nor Smith as he was.

My Wife possibly will be as comely and handsome as ever was his Venus, but not a Whore like
her, nor I a Cuckold like him.

95 The crook-leg'd slovenly Slave, made himself to be declared a Cuckold by a de|finitive

Sentence, and Judgment, in the open view of all the Gods: for this cause ought you to interpret
the aforemention|ed Verse quite contrary to what you have said. This Lot importeth, that my
Wife will be honest, vertuous, chast, loyal, and faithful; not armed, surly, waiward, cross, giddy,
humorous, heady, hair|brain'd, or extracted out of the Brains, as was the Goddess Pallas: nor
shall this fair jolly Iupiter be my Corrival, he shall ne|ver dip his Bread in my Broath, though we
should sit together at one Table.

Consider his Exploits and gallant Acti|ons, he was the manifest Ruffian, Wen|cher,
Whoremonger, and most infamous Cuckold-maker that ever breathed: he did always lecher it
like a Boar, and no wonder, for he was foster'd by a Sow in the Isle of Candia, (if Agathocles the
Baby|lonian be not a Lyar) and more rammish|ly lascivious then a Buck, whence it is that he is
said by others, to have been suckled and fed with the Milk of the A|malthaean Goat. By the
vertue of Acheron, he jusled, bulled, and lastauriated in one day the third part of the World,
Beasts and People, Floods and Mountains, that was Europa.

96 For this grand subagitatory Atchieve|ment, the Animonians caused, draw, delineate, and paint
him in the figure and shape of a Ram, ramming, and horn|ed Ram. But I know well enough how
to shield and preserve my self from that horned Champion: he will not, trust me, have to deal in
my Person, with a sottish, dunsical Amphytrion; nor with a silly wit|less Argus, for all his
hundred Spectacles; nor yet with the cowardly Meacock A|crisius; the simple Goosecap Lyrus of
Thebes; the doating Blockhead Agenor; the flegmatick Pea-Goose Aesop; rough-footed Lycaon;
the luskish mishapen Cory|tus of Tuscany; nor with the large back'd and strong reined Atlas: let
him alter, change, transform, and metamorphose himself into a hundred various shapes and
figures; into a Swan, a Bull, a Satyr, a Showre of Gold, or into a Cuckow, as he did when he
unmaiden'd his Sister Iu|no; into an Eagle, Ram, or Dove, as when he was enamoured of the
Virgin Phthia, who then dwelt in the Aegean Territory; into Fire, a Serpent; yea, even into a
 281

Flea, into Epicurian and Demo|cratical Atomes, or more Magistronostralisti|cally, into those sly
Intentions of the Mind, which in [...]he [...] are called Second No|[...]ions· [...] in the nick, and take
[...]

97 And would you know what I would do unto him, even that which to his Father Coelum,
Saturn did, (Seneca foretold it of me, and Lactantius hath confirmed it) what the Goddess Rhea
did to Athis; I would make him two Stone lighter, rid him of his Cyprian Cimbals, and cut so
close and neatly by the Breech, that there should not remain thereof so much as one---, so cleanly
would I shave him: and disable him for ever from being Pope; for Testiculos non habet. Hold
there, said Pantagruel, Hoc, soft and fair (my Lad) enough of that, cast up, turn over the Leaves,
and try your Fortune for the se|cond time. Then did he fall upon this ensuing Verse.

Membra quatit, gelidusque coit formidine sanguis.

His Ioynts and Members quake, he becomes pale,

And sudden Fear doth his cold Blood congeal.

This importeth (quoth Pantagruel) that she will soundly bang your Back and Belly. Clean and
quite contrary (an|swered Panurge) it is of me that he pro|gnosticates, in saying that I will beat
her like a Tyger, if she vex me. Sir Martin 98 Wagstaff will perform that Office, and in default of
a Cudgel, the Devil gulp him, if I should not eat her up quick, as Can|daul the Lydian King did
his Wife, whom he ravened and devoured.

You are very stout, says Pantagruel, and couragious, Hercules himself durst hard|ly adventure to
scuffle with you in this your raging Fury: nor is it strange; for the Ian is worth two and two in
fight against Hercules are too too strong. Am I a Ian? quoth Panurge. No, no, (an|swered
Pantagruel) my Mind was only running upon the lurch and tricktrack. Thereafter did he hit, at
the third open|ing of the Book, upon this Verse.

Faemineo Praedae, & spoliorum ardebat amore.

After the Spoil and Pillage (as in Fire)

He burnt with a strong Feminine Desire.
 282

This portendeth (quoth Pantagruel) that she will steal your Goods, and rob you. Hence this,
according to these three drawn Lots, will be your future Destiny, (I clearly see it) you will be a
Cuckold, you will be beaten, and you will be rob|bed. Nay, it is quite otherways, (quoth
Panurge) for it is certain that this Verse 99 Presageth, that she will love me with a Perfect liking:
nor did the Satyr-writing Poet lye in proof hereof, when he affirm|ed, That a Woman burning
with extream Affection, takes sometimes pleasure to steal from her Sweetheart. And what I pray
you? a Glove, a Point, or some such trifling Toy of no importance, to make him keep a gentle
kind of stirring in the research and quest thereof: in like man|ner these small scolding Debates,
and petty brabling Contentions, which fre|quently we see spring up, and for a certain space boyl
very hot betwixt a couple of high-spirited Lovers, are nothing else but recreative Diversions for
their refreshment, spurs to, and incentives of a more fervent Amity than ever. As for example:
We do sometimes see Cutlers with Hammers mawl their finest Whetstones, therewith to sharpen
their Iron Tools the better.

And therefore do I think, that these three Lots make much for my advantage; which if not, I from
their Sentence total|ly appeal. There is no appellation (quoth Pantagruel) from the Decrees of
Fate or Destiny, of Lot or Chance: as is record|ed by our ancient Lawyers, witness Bal|dus, Lib.
ult. Cap. de Leg. The reason hereof is, Fortune doth not acknowledge a Superiour, to whom an
Appeal may be 100 made from her, or any of her Substitutes· And in this case the Pupil cannot
be re|stored to his Right in full, as openly by the said Author is alledged in L. ait praetor,
Paragrult. H. de minor.

CHAP. XIII. How Pantagruel adviseth Panurge to try the future good or bad luck of his
Marriage by Dreams.

NOW seeing we cannot agree toge|ther in the manner of expounding or interpreting the Sense of
the Virgilian Lots, let us bend our course another way, and try a new sort of Divination. Of what
kind? (asked Panurge.) Of a good Ancient and and Authentick Fashion, (answered Pantagruel)
it is by Dreams: For in Dreaming such Circumstances and Conditions being thereto adhibited, as
are clearly enough described by Hip|pocrates, in Lib. [...], by Plato, Plo|tin, Iamblicus, Sinesius,
Aristotle, Xenophon, Galene, Plutarch, Artemidorus, Valdianus, He|rophilus, G. Calaper,
Theocritus, Pliny, Athe|naeus, 101 and others, the Soul doth often times foresee what is to come.

How true this is, you may conceive by a very vulgar and familiar Example; as when you see that
at such a time as Suck|ling Babes, well nourished, fed and fo|stred with good Milk, sleep soundly
and profoundly, the Nurses in the interim get leave to sport themselves, and are li|centiated to
recreate their Fancies at what Range to them shall seem most fitting and expedient; their
Presence, Sedulity and Attendance on the Cradle being, during all that space, held unnecessary.

Even just so, when our Body is at rest, that the Concoction is every where ac|complished, and
that, till it awake, it lacks for nothing, our Soul delighteth to disport it self, and is well-pleased in
that Frolick to take a review of its Native Country, which is the Heavens, where it receiveth a
most notable Participation of its first beginning with an Imbuement from its Divine Source, and
 283

in Contem|plation of that Infinite and Intellectual Sphere, whereof the Center is every where, and
the Circumference in no place of the universal World, to wit, God, according to the Doctrine of
Hermes Tris|megistus, to whom no new thing hapneth, whom nothing that is past escapeth, and
102 unto whom all things are alike present, remarketh not only what is preterit, and gone in the
inferiour Course and Agitati|on of sublunary matters, but withal taketh notice what is to come;
then bringing a Relation of those future Events unto the Body by the outward Senses and exterior
Organs, it is divulged abroad unto the hearing of others. Whereupon the Own|er of that Soul
deserveth to be termed a Vatiemator, or Prophet.

Nevertheless the truth is, that the Soul is seldom able to report those things in such Sincerity as it
hath seen them, by reason of the Imperfection and Frailty of the Corporeal Senses, which
obstruct the effectuating of that Office; even as the Moon doth not communicate unto this Earth
of ours that Light which she re|ceiveth from the Sun with so much Splen|dor, Heat, Vigour,
Purity and Liveliness as it was given her. Hence it is requi|site for the better reading, explaining
and unfolding of these Somniatory Vaticiations and Predictions of that nature, that a dexterous,
learned, skilful, wise, industri|ous, expert, rational and peremptory Ex|pounder or Interpreter be
pitched upon, such a one as by the Greeks is called Oni|rocrit, or Oniropolist.

103 For this cause Heraclitus was wont to say, that nothing is by Dreams revealed to us, that
nothing is by Dreams conceal|ed from us, and that only we thereby have a mystical Signification
and secret Evidence of things to come, either for own prosperous or unlucky Fortune, or for the
favourable or disastrous Success of another. The Sacred Scriptures testifie no less, and profane
Histories assure us of it, in both which are exposed to our view a thousand several kinds of
strange Adventures, which have befallen pat according to the nature of the Dream, and that as
well to the Party Dreamer as to others. The Atlantick People, and those that inhabit the Land of
Thasos, (one of the Cyclades) are of this grand Commodity deprived; for in their Coun|tries none
yet ever dreamed. Of this sort Cleon of Daulia, Thrasymedes; and in our days the Learned
Frenchman Villa|novanus, neither of all which knew what Dreaming was.

Fail not therefore to morrow, when the jolly and fair Aurora with her rosie Fin|gers draweth
aside the Curtains of the Night, to drive away the sable Shades of Darkness, to bend your Spirits
wholly to the task of sleeping sound, and thereto ap|ply your self. In the mean while you 104
must denude your Mind of every Hu|mane Passion or Affection, such as are Love and Hatred,
Fear and Hope; for as of old the great Vaticinator, most fa|mous and renowned Prophet Proteus
was not able in his Disguise or Transformation into Fire, Water, a Tyger, a Dragon, and other
such like uncouth Shapes and Visors to presage any thing that was to come, till he was restored
to his own first natu|ral and kindly Form. Just so doth Man; for at his reception of the Art of
Divi|nation, and Faculty of prognosticating future things, that part in him which is the most
Divine, (to wit, the [...], or Mens) must be calm, peaceable, untroubled, quiet, still, husht, and not
imbusied or distracted with Foreign, Soul-disturbing Preturbati|ons. I am content, (quoth
Panurge.) But I pray you, Sir, must I this Evening, e're I go to Bed, eat much or little? I do not
ask this without Cause: For if I sup not well, large, round and amply, my sleeping is not worth a
forked Turnep; all the Night long I then but dose and rave, and in my slumbering Fits talk idle
Nonsence, my Thoughts being in a dull brown Stu|dy, and as deep in their Dumps as is my Belly
hollow.
 284

105 Not to sup (answered Pantagruel) were best for you, considering the state of your
Complexion, and healthy Consti|tution of your Body. A certain very an|cient Prophet named
Amphiaraus, wished such as had a mind by Dreams to be im|bued with any Oracles, for Four and
Twenty Hours to taste no Victuals, and to abstain from Wine three days together; yet shall not
you be put to such a sharp, hard, rigorous and extream sparing Diet.

I am truly right apt to believe, that a Man whose Stomach is repleat with va|rious Cheer, and in a
manner surfeited with drinking, is hardly able to conceive aright of Spiritual things; yet am not I
of the Opinion of those, who after long and pertinacious Fastings, think by such means to enter
more profoundly into the Speculation of Celestial Mysteries. You may very well remember how
my Father Gargantua, (whom here for Honour sake I name) hath often told us, that the Wri|tings
of abstinent, abstemious, and long-fasting Hermits, were every whit as salt|less, dry, jejune and
insipid, as were there Bodies when they did compose them. It is a most difficult thing for the
Spirits to be in a good plight, serene and lively, when there is nothing in the Body but a kind of
Voidness and Inanity: Seeing 106 the Philosophers with the Physicians joint|ly affirm, that the
Spirits which are styled Animal, spring from, and have their con|stant practice in, and through the
Arteri|al Blood, refin'd and purify'd to the Life within the admirable Net, which wonder|fully
framed lieth under the Ventricles and Tunnels of the Brain. He gave us al|so the Example of the
Philosopher, who, when he thought most seriously to have withdrawn himself unto a solitary
Privacy, far from the rusling clutterments of the tu|multuous and confused World, the better to
improve his Theory, to contrive, com|ment and ratiocinate, was, notwithstand|ing his uttermost
endeavours to free himself from all untoward noises, surrounded and environ'd about so with the
barking of Currs, bawling of Mastiffs, bleating of Sheep, prating of Parrets, tatling of Jack|daws,
grunting of Swine, girning of Boars, yelping of Foxes, mewing of Cats, cheeping of Mice,
squeaking of Weasils, croaking of Frogs, crowing of Cocks, kekling of Hens, calling of
Partridges, chanting of Swans, chattering of Jays, peeping of Chickens, singing of Larks,
creaking of Geese, chirping of Swallows, clucking of Moorfowls, cucking of Cuc|kows, bumling
of Bees, rammage of Hawks, chi[...]ming of Linots, croaking of 107 Ravens, screeching of Owls,
whicking of Pigs, gushing of Hogs, curring of Pigeons, grumbling of Cushet-doves, howling of
Panthers, curkling of Quails, chirping of Sparrows, crackling of Crows, nuzzing of Camels,
wheening of Whelps, buzzing of Dromedaries, mumbling of Rabets, cricking of Ferrets,
humming of Wasps, mioling of Tygers, bruzzing of Bears, sussing of Kitnings, clamring of
Scarfes, whimpring of Fullmarts, boing of Buffalos, warbling of Nightingales, qua|vering of
Meavises, drintling of Turkies, coniating of Storks, frantling of Peacocks, clattering of Mag-
pyes, murmuring of Stock-doves, crouting of Cormorants, cig|ling of Locusts, charming of
Beagles, guarring of Puppies, snarling of Messens, rantling of Rats, guerieting of Apes,
snut|tering of Monkies, pioling of Pelicanes, quecking of Ducks, yelling of Wolves, roaring of
Lions, neighing of Horses, crying of Elephants, hissing of Serpents, and wailing of Turtles, that
he was much more troubled, than if he had been in the middle of the Crowd at the Fair of
Fontenoy or Niort.

Just so is it with those who are tormen|ted with the grievous pangs of Hunger; the Stomach
begins to gnaw, (and bark as it were) the Eyes to look dim, and the 108 Veins, by greedily
sucking some refection to themselves from the proper substance of all the Members of a Fleshy
Consistence; violently pull down and draw back that vagrant, roaming Spirit, careless and
ne|glecting of his Nurse and natural Host, which is the Body. As when a Hawk up|on the Fist,
 285

willing to take her Flight by a soaring aloft into the open spacious Air, is on a sudden drawn back
by a Leash tied to her Feet.

To this purpose also did he alledge un|to us the Authority of Homer, the Father of all Philosophy,
who said, that the Grecians did not put an end to their mournful mood for the Death of
Patroclus, the most intimate Friend of Achilles, till Hunger in a rage declared her self, and their
Bellies protested to furnish no more Tears unto their Grief. For from Bodies emptied and
mecerated by long Fasting, there could not be such supply of Moi|sture and brackish Drops, as
might be pro|per on that occasion.

Mediocrity at all times is commen|dable; nor in this case are you to aban|don it. You may take a
little Supper, but thereat must you not eat of a Hare, nor of any other Flesh: You are likewise to
abstain from Beans, from the Preak, (by some called the Polyp) as also from Cole|worts, 109
Cabbidge, and all other such like windy Victuals, which may endanger the troubling of your
Brains, and the dim|ning or casting a kind of Mist over your Animal Spirits: For as a Looking-
glass cannot exhibit the Semblance or Repre|sentation of the Object set before it, and exposed, to
have its Image to the life ex|pressed, if that the polish'd sleekedness thereof be darken'd by gross
Breathings, dampish Vapours, and foggy, thick, in|fectious Exhalations; even so the Fancy
cannot well receive the impression of the likeness of those things, which Divinati|on doth afford
by Dreams, if any way the Body be annoyed or troubled with the fumish Steam of Meat, which it
had ta|ken in a while before; because betwixt these two there still hath been a mutual Sympathy
and Fellow-[...]eeling, of an in|dissolubly knit Affection. You shall eat good Eusebian and
Bergamot-Pears· one Apple of the short-shank Pepin-kind, a parcel of the little Plums of Tours,
and some few Cherries of the growth of my Orchard: Nor shall you need to fear, that thereupon
will ensue doubtful Dreams, fal|lacious, uncertain, and not to be trusted to, as by some
Peripatetick Philosophers hath been related; for that, say they, Men do more copiously in the
Season of 110 Harvest feed on Fruitages, then at any other time. The same is mystically taught
us by the ancient Prophets and Poets, who alledge, That all vain and deceitful Dreams lie hid and
in covert, under the Leaves which are spread on the ground: by reason that the Leaves fall from
the Trees, in the Autumnal Quarter: for the natural fer|vour, which abounding in ripe, fresh,
recent Fruits, cometh by the quickness of its ebullition, to be with ease evapora|ted into the
Animal parts of the dream|ing Person (the Experiment is obvious in most) is a pretty while before
it be expi|red, dissolved, and evanished. As for your Drink, you are to have it of the fair, pure
Water of my Fountain.

The Condition (quoth Panurge) is very hard: nevertheless, cost what price it will, or whatsoever
come of it, I heartily condescend thereto; protesting, that I shall to morrow break my Fast
betimes, after my somniatory Exercitations; fur|thermore, I recommend my self to Ho|mer's two
Gates, to Morpheus, to Iselon, to Phautasus, and unto Phabetor. If they in this my great need
succour me, and grant me that assistance which is fitting, I will, in honour of them all, erect a
jolly, gentiel Altar, composed of the softest Down. If I were now in Laconia, in the Temple of
111 Iuno, betwixt Oetile and Thalamis, she suddenly would disintangle my Perplexity, resolve
me of my Doubts, and chear me up with fair and jovial Dreams in a deep Sleep. Then did he say
thus unto Pan|tagruel: Sir, were it not expedient for my purpose, to put a Branch or two of
curious Laurel betwixt the Quilt and Bol|ster of my Bed, under the Pillow on which my Head
must lean? There is no need at all of that (quoth Pantagruel) for besides that it is a thing very
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superstitious, the Cheat thereof hath been at large dis|covered unto us, in the Writings of
Sera|pion, Ascalonites, Antiphon, Philochorus, Ar|temon, and Fulgentius Placiades. I could say
as much to you of the Left Shoulder of a Crocodile, as also of a Camelion, without prejudice be
it spoken to the Credit which is due to the Opinion of old Democritus; and likewise of the Stone
of the Bactrians, called Eumerites, and of the Hamonian Horn: for so by the Aethiopians is
termed a certain precious Stone, colour|ed like Gold, and in the fashion, shape, form, and
proportion of a Ram's Horn, as the Horn of Iupiter Hammon is reported to have been: they over-
and-above assu|redly affirming, that the Dreams of those who carry it about them are no less
veri|[...]able and infallible, than the Truth of the 113 Divine Oracles. Nor is this much unlike to
what Homer and Virgil wrote of these two Gates of Sleep: to which you have been pleased to
recommend the manage|ment of what you have in hand. The one is of Ivory, which setteth in
confused, doubtful, and uncertain Dreams; for thro' Ivory, how small and slender it soever be, we
can see nothing, the density, opacity, and close compactedness of its material parts, hindring the
penetration of the vi|sual Rays, and the reception of the Spe|ciesses of such things as are visible:
the other is of Horn, at which an entry is made to sure and certain Dreams, even as through
Horn, by reason of the diapha|nous splendour, and bright transparency thereof, the Species of all
Objects of the sight distinctly pass, and so without con|fusion appear, that they are clearly seen.
Your meaning is, and you would thereby infer (quoth Fryar Iohn) that the Dreams of all horned
Cuckolds (of which number Panurge, by the help of God, and his fu|ture Wife, is without
controversie to be one) are always true and infallible.

112

CHAP. XIV. Panurge's Dream, with the Interpreta|tion thereof.

AT Seven a Clock of the next follow|ing Morning, Panurge did not fail to present himself before
Pantagruel, in whose Chamber were at that time Episte|mon, Fryar Iohn of the Funnels,
Ponocrates, Eudemon, Carpalin, and others, to whom, at the entry of Panurge, Pantagruel said,
Lo, here cometh our Dreamer. That word (quoth Epistemon) in ancient times cost very much,
and was dearly sold to the Children of Iacob. Then, said Panurge, I have been plunged into my
dumps so deeply, as if I had been lodged with Gaf|fer Noddy cap: dreamed indeed I have, and
that right lustily; but I could take a long with me no more thereof, that I did goodly understand,
save only, that I in my Vision had a pretty, fair, young, gal|lant, handsome Woman, who no less
lo|vingly and kindly treated and entertained me, hugg'd, cherish'd, cocker'd, dandled, 114 and
made much of me, as if I had been a|nother neat dillidarling Minion, like Ado|nis: never was
Man more glad then I was then, my joy at that time was incompera|ble; she flattred me, tickled
me, stroaked me, groped me, frizled me, curled me, kissed me, embraced me, laid her Hands
about my Neck, and now and then made jestingly, pretty little Horns above my Forehead: I told
her in the like disport, as I did play the Fool with her, that she should rather place and fix them in
a little below mine Eyes, that I might see the better what I should stick at, with them: for being so
situated, Momus then would find no fault therewith, as he did once with the position of the Horns
of Bulls. The wanton, toying Girl, notwithstand|ing any remonstrance of mine to the con|trary,
did always drive and thrust them further in: yet thereby (which to me seemed wonderful) she did
 287

not do me a|ny hurt at all. A little after, though I know not how, I thought I was trans|form'd into
a Tabor, and she into a Chough.

My sleeping there being interrupted, I awaked in a start, angry, displeased, per|plexed, chafing,
and very wroth. There have you a large-Platter-full of Dreams, make thereupon good Chear, and,
if you 115 please, spare not to interpret them accord|ing to the Understanding which you may
have in them. Come Carpalin, let us to Breakfast. To my sence and meaning, (quoth Pantagruel)
if I have skill or know|ledge in the Art of Divination by Dreams, your Wife will not really, and to
the out|ward appearance of the World, plant, or set Horns, and stick them fast in your Forehead,
after a visible manner, as Sa|tyrs use to wear and carry them; but she will be so far from
preserving herself Loy|al in the discharge and observance of a Conjugal Duty, that on the
contrary she will violate her plighted Faith, break her Marriage-Oath, infringe all Matrimonial
Tyes, prostitute her Body to the Dalliance of other Men, and so make you a Cuckold. This point
is clearly and manifestly ex|plained and expounded by Artemidorus, just as I have related it. Nor
will there be any metamorphosis, or transmutation made of you into a Drum, or Tabor, but you
will surely be as soundly beaten as e're was Ta|bor at a merry Wedding: nor yet will she be
changed into a Chough, but will steal from you, chiefly in the Night, as is the nature of that
thievish Bird. Hereby may you perceive your Dreams to be in every jot conform and agreeable to
the Virgilian Lots: A Cuckold you will be, beaten 116 and robbed. Then cryed out Father Iohn
with a loud Voice: He tells the truth; upon my Conscience, thou wilt be a Cuc|kold, an honest
one, I warrant thee; O the brave Horns that will be born by thee! Ha, ha, ha. Our good Master De
Corni|lius, God save thee, and shield thee; Wilt thou be pleased to preach but two words of a
Sermon to us, and I will go through the Parish-Church to gather up Alms for the poor.

You are (quoth Panurge) very far mi|staken in your Interpretation; for the mat|ter is quite
contrary to your sence thereof; my Dream presageth, that I shall by Mar|riage be stored with
plenty of all manner of Goods, the hornifying of me shewing, that I will possess a Cornucopia,
that Amal|thaean Horn, which is called, The Horn of Abundance, whereof the fruition did still
portend the Wealth of the Enjoyer. You possibly will say, that they are rather like to be Satyrs
Horns; for you of these did make some mention. Amen, Amen, Fiat siat, ad differentiam papae.
Thus shall I have my Touch-her-home still ready; my Staff of Love sempiternally in a good case,
will, Satyr-like, be never toyled out; a thing which all Men wish for, and send up their Prayers to
that purpose, but such a thing as nevertheless is granted but to a few; hence 117 doth it follow by
a consequence as clear as the Sun-beams, that I will never be in the danger of being made a
Cuckold, for the defect hereof is, Causa sine qua non; yea, the sole cause (as many think) of
making Husbands Cuckolds· What makes poor scoundrel Rogues to beg (I pray you)? Is it not
because they have not enough at home, wherewith to fill their Bellies, and their Poaks. What is it
makes the Wolves to leave the Woods? Is it not the want of Flesh Meat. What maketh Women
Whores? you understand me well enough. And herein may I very well submit my Opinion to the
Judgment of learned Law|yers, Presidents, Counsellors, Advocates, Procurers, Attorneys, and
other Glossers and Commentators on the venerable Ru|brick, De Frigidis, & maleficiatis. You
are in truth, Sir, as it seems to me (ex|cuse my boldness if I have transgressed) in a most palpable
and absurd Error, to attribute my Horns to Cuckoldry: Diana wears them on her Head after the
manner of a Cressant, is she a Cuequean for that? How the Devil can she be cuckolded, who
never yet was married? Speak some|what more correctly, I beseech you, least she being
offended, furnish you with a pair of Horns, shapen by the Pattern of those which she made for
 288

Actaeon. The 118 goodly Bacchus also carries Horns; Pan, Iupiter Hammon, with a great many
o|thers, are they all Cuckolds? If Iove be a Cuckold, Iuno is a Whore: this follows by the Figure
Metalepsis. As to call a Child in the presence of his Father and Mother, a Bastard, or Whore's
Son, is tacitly and under-board, no less than if he had said openly, the Father is a Cuc|kold, and
his Wife a Punk. Let our Di|scourse come nearer to the purpose: The Horns that my Wife did
make me are Horns of Abundance, planted and grafted in my Head for the increase and shooting
up of all good things: this will I affirm for truth, upon my Word, and pawn my Faith and Credit
both upon it; as for the rest, I will be no less joyful, frolick, glad, cheerful, merry, jolly, and
gamesome then a well-bended Tabor in the Hands of a good Drummer, at a Nuptial Feast, still
making a noise, still rowling, still buzzing and cracking. Believe me, Sir, in that consisteth none
of my least good Fortunes. And my Wife will be jocund, feat, compt, neat, quaint, dainty, trim,
trick'd up, brisk, smirk and smug, even as a pretty little Cornish Chough: who will not believe
this, let Hell or the Gallows be the Burden of his Christmas Carol.

119 I remark (quoth Pantagruel) the last point or particle which you did speak of, and having
seriously conferred it with the first, find that at the beginning you were delighted with the
sweetness of your Dream; but in the end· and final closure of it, you startingly awaked, and on a
sud|den were forthwith vexed in Choler, and annoyed. Yea, (quoth Panurge) the rea|son of that
was, because I had fasted too long. Flatter not your self (quoth Panta|gruel) all will go to ruine:
know for a certain truth, that every Sleep that end|eth with a starting, and leaves the Person
irksome, grieved, and fretting, doth either signifie a present evil, or otherways pre|sageth, and
portendeth a future imminent mishap. To signifie an Evil, that is to say, to shew some Sickness
hardly cura|ble, a kind of pestilentious, or malignant Bile, Botch, or Sore, lying and lurking, hid,
occult, and latent within the very Center of the Body, which many times doth by the means of
Sleep (whose nature is to reinforce, and strengthen the Facul|ty and Vertue of Concoction) begin
ac|cording to the Theorems of Physick to declare itself, and moves toward the out|ward
Superficies. At this sad stirring is the Sleeper's rest and ease disturbed and broken, whereof the
first feeling and 120 stinging smart admonisheth, that he must patiently endure great pain and
trouble, and thereunto provide some remedy: as when we say proverbially to incense Hor|nets, to
move a stinking Puddle, and to a|wake a sleeping Lyon, instead of these more usual expressions,
and of a more fa|miliar and plain meaning, to provoke an|gry Persons, to make a thing the worse
by medling with it, and to irritate a testy cholerick Man when he is at quiet. On the other part, to
presage or fore-tell an Evil, especially in what concerneth the Exploits of the Soul, in matter of
Somnial Divinations, is as much to say, as that it giveth us to understand, that some dismal
Fortune or Mischance is destinated and prepared for us, which shortly will not fail to come to
pass. A clear and evident Ex|ample hereof is to be found in the Dream, and dreadful awaking of
Hecuba, as like|wise in that of Euridice, the Wife of Or|pheus, (neither of which was sooner
finish|ed, saith Cunius) but that incontinently thereafter they awaked in a start, and were
affrighted horribly; thereupon these Accidents ensued, Hecuba had her Husband Priamus,
together with her Children, slain before her eyes, and saw then the Destru|ction of her Country;
and Euridice died speedily thereafter, in a most miserable 121 manner. Aeneas dreaming that he
spoke to Hector a little after his Decease, did on a sudden in a great start awake, and was a|fraid:
now hereupon did follow this event; Troy that same Night was spoil'd, sack'd, and burnt. At
another time the same Aeneas, dreaming that he saw his familiar Geniuses and Penates, in a
ghastly fright and astonish|ment awaked, of which terrour and amaze|ment the issue was, that the
very next day subsequent, by a most horrible Tempest on the Sea, he was like to have perished,
 289

and been cast-away. Moreover, Turnus being prompted, instigated, and stirred up, by the
fantastick Vision of an infernal Fury, to enter into a bloody War against Aeneas, awaked in a
start much troubled and disquieted in Spirit, in sequel whereof, after many notable and famous
Routs, De|feats and Discomfitures in open Field, he came at last to be killed in a single Com|bat,
by the said Aeneas. A thousand other instances I could afford, if it were needful, of this matter.
Whilst I relate these Sto|ries of Aeneas, remark the saying of Fa|bius Pictor, who faithfully
averred, That nothing had at any time befallen unto, was done, or enterprized by him, where|of
he preallably had not Notice, and before|hand fore seen it to the full, by sure Pre|dictions,
altogether founded on the Ora|cles 122 of Somnial Divination. To this there is no want of
pregnant Reasons, no more then of Examples: for if Repose and Rest in Sleeping be a special
Gift and Favour of the Gods, as is maintained by the Phi|losophers, and by the Poet attested in
these Lines:

Then Sleep, that heavenly Gift, came to re|fresh,

Of humane Labourers, the wearied Flesh.
Such a Gift or Benefit can never finish or terminate in wrath and indignation, with|out portending
some unlucky Fate, and most disastrous Fortune to ensue; other|ways it were a Molestation, and
not an Ease; a Scourge and not a Gift, at least, proceeding from the Gods above, but from the
infernal Devils our Enemies, according to the common vulgar Saying.

Suppose the Lord, Father, or Master of a Family, sitting at a very sumptuous Din|ner, furnished
with all manner of good Cheer, and having at his entry to the Ta|ble his Appetite sharp set upon
his Victu|als, whereof there was great plenty, should be seen rise in a start, and on a sudden fling
out of his Chair, abandoning his Meat, frighted, appalled, and in a horrid terrour, who should not
know the cause 123 hereof would wonder, and be astonished exceedingly: But what? he heard
his Male Servants cry, Fire, fire, fire, fire; his Serving Maids and Woman yell, Stop Thief, stop
Thief; and all his Children shout as loud as ever they could, Murther, O Murther, Murther. Then
was it not high time for him to leave his Banquet|ting, for application of a Remedy in hast, and to
give speedy Order for succouring of his distressed Houshold. Truly, I remem|ber, that the
Cabalists and Massorats, Inter|preters of the Sacred Scriptures, in treat|ing how with verity one
might judge of Evangelical Apparitions (because often|times the Angel of Satan is disguized and
transfigured into an Angel of Light) said, That the difference of these two mainly did consist in
this: the favourable and comforting Angel useth in his appearing unto Man at first to terrifie and
hugely affright him; but in the end he bringeth Consolation, leaveth the Person who hath seen
him, joyful, well pleased, fully con|tent, and satisfied: on the other side, the An|gel of Perdition,
that wicked, devilish, and malignant Spirit, at his appearance unto any Person, in the beginning
cheareth up the Heart of his Beholder, but at last for|sakes him, and leaves him troubled, angry,
and perplexed.

124

CHAP. XV. Panurge's Excuse and Exposition of the Monastick Mystery concerning
Pou|der'd Beef.
 290

THE Lord save those who see, and do not hear, (quoth Panurge) I see you well enough, but
know not what it is that you have said: the Hunger-starved Belly wanteth Ears: For lack of
Victuals, before God, I roar, bray, yell and fume as in a furious Madness. I have perfor|med too
hard a Task to day, an extrordi|nary Work indeed: He shall be craftier, and do far greater
Wonders than ever did Mr. Mush, who shall be able any more this year to bring me on the Stage
of Prepara|tion for a dreaming Verdict. Fy; not to sup at all, that is the Devil. Pox take that
Fashion. Come Friar Iohn, let us go break our Fast; for if I hit on such a round Refection in the
morning· as will serve throughly to fill the Mill-hopper and Hogshide of my Stomach, and
furnish it with Meat and Drink sufficient, then at a 125 pinch, as in the case of some extream
ne|cessity which presseth, I could make a shift that day to forbear Dining. But not to Sup: A
Plague-rot that base Custom, which is an Error offensive to Nature. That Lady made the Day for
Exercise, to travel, work, wait on and labour in each his Negotiation and Employment; and that
we may with the more Fervency and Ardour prosecute our business, she sets be|fore us a clear
burning Candle, to wit, the Suns Resplendency: And at Night, when she begins to take the Light
from us, she thereby tacitly implies no less, than if she would have spoken thus unto us: My Lads
and Lasses, all of you are good and honest Folks, you have wrought well to day, toiled and
turmoiled enough, the Night approacheth, therefore cast off these moiling Cares of yours, desist
from all your swinking painful Labours, and set your Minds how to refresh your Bodies in the
renewing of their Vigour with good Bread, choice Wine, and store of whol|som Meats; then may
you take some Sport and Recreation, and after that lie down and rest your selves, that you may
strongly, nimbly, lustily, and with the more Alacrity to morrow attend on your Affairs as
formerly.

126 Falconers in like manner, when they have fed their Hawks, will not suffer them to fly on a
full Gorge, but let them on a Pearch abide a little, that they may rouse, bait, tour and soar the
better. That good Pope, who was the first Instituter of Fast|ing, understood this well enough; for
he ordained that our Fast should reach but to the hour of Noon; all the remainder of that day was
at our disposure, freely to eat and feed at any time thereof. In an|cient times there were but few
that dined, as you would say, some Church men, Monks and Canons; for they have little other
Occupation; each day is a Festi|val unto them; who diligently heed the Claustral Proverb, De
missa ad mensam. They do not use to linger and defer their sitting down and placing of
themselves at Table, only so long as they have a mind in waiting for the coming of the Abbot; so
they fell to without Ceremony, Terms or Conditions; and every body supped, unless it were some
vain, conceited, dreaming Do|tard. Hence was a Supper called Caena, which sheweth that it is
common to all sorts of People. Thou knowest it well, Friar Iohn. Come let us go, my dear Friend
in the name of all the Devils of the Infer|nal Regions, let us go: The Gnawings of my Stomach, in
this rage of Hunger, are 127 so taring, that they make it bark like a Mastiff. Let us throw some
Bread and Beef into his Throat to pacifie him, as once the Sibyl did to Cerberus. Thou likest best
Monastical Browess, the prime, the flower of the Pot. I am for the solid, principal Verb that
comes after: The good brown Loaf, always accompany'd with a round slice of the Nine-lecture-
poudred Labourer. I know thy meaning, (answered Friar Iohn) this Metaphor is extracted out of
the Claustral Kettle; the Labourer is the Ox, that hath wrought and done the Labour; after the
fashion of Nine Lectures, that is to say, most exqui|sitely well and throughly boil'd. These holy
Religious Fathers, by a certain Cabalistick Institution of the Ancients, not written, but carefully
by Tradition conveyed from hand to hand, rising betimes to go to Morning Prayers, were wont to
flourish that their matutinal. Devotion with some certain notable Preambles before their en|try
 291

into the Church, viz. They dunged in the Dungeries, pissed in the Pisseries, spit in the Spitteries,
melodiously coughed in the Cougheries, and doted in their Do|teries, that to the Divine Service
they might not bring any thing that was un|clean or foul.

128 These things thus done· they very zea|lously made their repair to the Holy Chap|pel, (for so
was, in their canting Lan|guage, termed the Covent Kitchin) where they with no small
earnestness, had Care that the Beef Pot should be put on the Crook for the Breakfast of the
Religious Brothers of our Lord and Saviour; and the Fire they would kindle under the Pot
themselves. Now the Matines consisting of Nine Lessons, was so incumbent on them, that they
must have risen the ra|ther for the more expedite dispatching of them all. The sooner that they
rose, the sharper was their Appetite, and the Barkings of their Stomachs, and the Gnaw|ings
increase in the like proportion, and consequently made these Godly Men thrice more a hungred
and a-thirst, than when their Matines were hem'd over only with three Lessons.

The more betimes they rose by the said Cabal, the sooner was the Beef Pot put on; the longer that
the Beef was on the Fire, the better it was boiled; the more it boiled, it was the tenderer; the
ten|derer that it was, the less it troubled the Teeth, delighted more the Palats, less charged the
Stomach, and nourished our good Religious Men the more substantial|ly; which is the only end
and prime in|tention 129 of the first Founders, as appears by this, That they eat not to live, but
live to eat, and in this World have nothing but their Life. Let us go, Panurge.

Now have I understood thee, (quoth Panurge) my Plushcod Friar, my Cabal|line and Claustral
Ballock. I freely quit the Costs, Interest and Charges, seeing you have so egregiously commented
up|on the most especial Chapter of the Cu|linary and Monastick Cabal. Come along, my
Garpalin, and you Friar Iohn, my Leather-dresser: Good morrow to you all, my good Lords: I
have dreamed too much to have so little. Let us go. Pa|nurge had no sooner done speaking, than
Epistemon with a loud Voice said these Words: It is a very ordinary and com|mon thing amongst
Men to conceive, fore|see, know and presage the misfortune, bad luck or disaster of another; but
to have the understanding, providence, know|ledge and prediction of a Man's own mishap is very
scarce and rare to be found any where. This is exceeding judiciously and prudently deciphered
by Esop in his Apologues, who there affirmeth, That every Man in the World carrieth about his
Neck a Wallet, in the Fore-bag where|of were contained the Faults and Mis|chances of others,
always exposed to his 130 view and knowledge; and in the other Scrip thereof, which hangs
behind, are kept the Bearers proper Transgressions, and inauspicious Adventures, at no time seen
by him, nor thought upon, unless he be a person that hath a favourable A|spect from the Heavens.

CHAP. XVI. How Pantagruel adviseth Panurge to consult with the Sibyl of Panzoust.

A Little while thereafter Pantagruel sent for Panurge, and said unto him, The Affection which I
bear you being now inveterate, and setled in my Mind by a long continuance of time, prom|pteth
me to the serious consideration of your Welfare and Profit; in order where|to remark what I have
thought thereon: It hath been told me that at Panzoust near Crouly, dwelleth a very famous Sibyl,
who is endowed with the skill of foretelling all things to come. Take Epestimon in your
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Company, repair towards her, and hear what she will say unto you. She is 131 possibly (quoth
Epistemon) she is some Canidia, Sagane or Pythonisse, either where|of with us is vulgarly called
a Witch. I being the more easily induced to give Credit to the truth of this Character of her, that
the place of her Abode is vilely stained with the abominable repute of abounding more with
Sorcerers and Witches than ever did the Plains of Thessaly. I should not, to my thinking, go
thither willingly, for that it seems to me a thing unwarrantable, and altogether forbidden in the
Law of Moyses. We are not Iews, (quoth Pantagruel) nor is it a matter judi|ciously confess'd by
her, nor authentical|ly proved by others that she is a Witch. Let us for the present suspend our
Judg|ment, and defer till after your return from thence, the sifting and garbeling of those
Niceties. Do we know but that she may be an Eleventh Sibyl, or a Second Cassan|dra? But
although she were neither, and she did not merit the Name or Title of any of these Renowned
Prophetesses, what Hazard, in the Name of God, do you run, by offering to talk and confer with
her of the instant Perplexity and Perturbation of your Thoughts? Seeing especially (and which is
most of all) she is in the Estimation of those that are ac|quainted with her, held to know more,
132 and to be of a deeper reach of Under|standing, than is either customary to the Country
wherein she liveth, or to the Sex whereof she is. What hindrance, hurt or harm doth the laudable
desire of Knowledge bring to any Man, were it from a Sot, a Pot, a Fool, a Stool, a Winter
Mittam, a Truckle for a Pully, the Lid of a Goldsmiths Crucible, an Oil-Bottle, or old Slipper?
You may re|member to have read, or heard at least, that Alexander the Great, immediately af|ter
his having obtained a glorious Victo|ry over the King Darius in Arbeles, refused in the Presence
of the splendid and illu|strious Courtiers that were about him, to give Audience to a poor certain
despica|ble-like Fellow, who through the Soilicita|tions and Mediatio[...] of some of his Royal
Attendants· was admitted humbly to beg that Grace and Favour of him: But sore did he repent,
although in vain, a thou|sand and ten thousand times thereafter, the surly State which he then
took upon him to the Denial of so just a Suit, the Grant whereof would have been worth unto him
the value of a Brace of potent Cities. He was indeed Victorious in Per|sia, but withal so far
distant from Macedo|nia, his Hereditary Kingdom, that the Joy of the one did not expel the
extream 133 Grief, which through occasion of the o|ther he had inwardly conceived; for not
being able with all his Power to find or invent a convenient Mean and Expedient, how to get or
come by the certainty of any News from thence; both by reason of the huge remoteness of the
places from one to another, as also because of the impe|ditive Interposition of many great Rivers,
the interjacent Obstacle of divers wild Deserts, and obstructive Interjection of sundry almost
inaccessible Mountains. Whilst he was in this sad quandary and sollicitous pensiveness, which,
you may sup|pose, could not be of a small Vexation to him; considering that it was a matter of no
great difficulty to run over his whole Native Soil, possess his Country, seize on his Kingdom,
install a new King in the Throne, and plant thereon Foreign Co|lonies, long before he could come
to have any Advertisement of it. For obviating the Jeopardy of so dreadful Inconveniency, and
putting a fit Remedy thereto, a cer|tain Sydonian Merchant of a low Stature, but high Fancy, very
poor in shew, and to the outward appearance of little or no Account, having presented himself
be|fore him, went about to affirm and de|clare, that he had excogitated and hit up|on a ready
mean and way, by the which 134 those of his Territories at home should come to the certain
notice of his Indian Victories, and himself be perfectly in|formed of the state and condition of
Egypt and Macedonia within less then five days. Whereupon the said Alexander, plunged into a
sullen Animadvertency of mind, through his rash Opinion of the Improba|bility of performing a
so strange and impossible-like Undertaking, dismissed the Merchant without giving ear to what
he had to say, and villify'd him. What could it have cost him to hearken unto what the honest
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Man had invented and contrived for his good? What Detriment, Annoyance, Damage or Loss
could he have undergone to listen to the Discovery of that Secret, which the good Fellow would
have most willingly revealed unto him? Nature, I am perswaded, did not without a cause frame
our Eyes open, putting there|to no Gate at all, nor shutting them up with any manner of
Inclosures, as she hath done unto the Tongue, the Eyes, and other such out-jetting parts of the
Body: The Cause, as I imagine, is, to the end that every Day and every Night, and that
[...]ontinually, we may be ready to hear, and by a perpetual hearing apt to learn: For of all the
Senses, it is the fit|test for the reception of the knowledge 135 of Arts, Sciences and Disciplines;
and it may be, that Man was an Angel, (that is to say, a Messenger sent from God) as Raphael
was to Toby. Too suddenly did he contemn, despise and misregard him; but too long thereafter,
by an untimely and too late Repentance did he do Pennance for it. You say very well, (answered
E|pistemon) yet shall you never for all that induce me to believe, that it can tend any way to the
Advantage or Commodity of a Man, to take Advice and Counsel of a Woman, namely, of such a
Woman, and the Woman of such a Country. Truly I have found (quoth Panurge) a great deal of
good in the Counsel of Women, chiefly in that of the Old Wives amongst them; who for every
time I consult with them, I readily get a Stool or two extraordinary, to the great Solace of my
Bum-gut pas|sage. They are as Slothounds in the In|fallibility of their Scent, and in their Say|ings
no less Sententious than the Rubricks of the Law. Therefore in my Conceit it is not an improper
kind of Speech to call them Sage or Wise Women. In confir|mation of which Opinion of mine, the
customary style of my Language allow|eth them the Denomination of Presage Women. The
Epithet of Sage is due un|to them, because they are surpassing dex|trous 136 in the knowledge of
most things· And I give them the Title of Presage, for that they Divinely foresee, and certainly
foretel future Contingencies, and Events of things to come. Sometimes I call them not
Maunettes, but Monettes, from their wholsom Monitions. Whether it be so, ask Pythagoras,
Socrates, Empedocles, and our Master Ortuinus. I furthermore praise and commend above the
Skies the ancient memorable Institution of the pri|stine Germans, who ordained the Responces
and Documents of Old Women to be highly extolled, most cordially reveren|ced, and prised at a
rate, in nothing in|feriour to the weight, test and standerd of the Sanctuary: And as they were
re|spectfully prudent in receiving of these sound Advices, so by honouring and fol|lowing them
did they prove no less fortu|nate in the happy Success of all their En|deavours. Witness the Old
Wife Antinia, and the good Mother Villed, in the days of Vespasian. You need not any way
doubt, but that Feminine Old Age is al|ways fructifying in Qualities Sublime, I would have said
Sibylline. Let us go, by the help; let us go, by the Vertue. God, let us go. Farewel, Friar Iohn, I
recom|mend the care of my Codpiece to you. Well, (quoth Epistemon) I will follow you, 137
with this protestation nevertheless, that if I happen to get a sure information, or otherways find,
that she doth use any kind of Charm or Enchantment in her Responses, it may not be imputed to
me for a blame to leave you at the Gate of her House, without accompanying you any further in.

CHAP. XVII. How Panurge spoke to the Sybil of Panzoust.

THeir Voyage was three days Journey|ing, on the third whereof was shewn unto them the House
of the Vaticinatress standing on the knap or top of a Hill, un|der a large and spacious Walnut-
Tree. Without great difficulty they entred into that straw-thatch'd Cottage, scurvily built,
 294

naughtily movabled, and all besmoaked. It matters not, (quoth Epistemon) Heracli|tus, the grand
Scotist, and tenebrous dark|some Philosopher, was nothing astonish|ed at his Introit into such a
course and paultry Habitation; for he did usually 138 shew forth unto his Sectators and Disciples,
That the Gods made as cheerfully their Resi|dence in these mean homely Mansions, as in
sumptuous, magnifick Palaces, replenished with all manner of delight, pomp, and pleasure. I
withal do really believe, that the Dwelling-place of the so famous and renowned Hecate, was just
such another petty Cell as this is, when she made a Feast therein to the valiant Theseus. And that
of no other better Structure was the Coat or Cabin of Hyreus, or Oaenopion, wherein Iupiter,
Neptune, and Mercury were not ashamed, all three together, to harbour and sojourn a whole
Night, and there to take a full and hearty Repast; for the payment of the Shot they thankfully ed
Orion.

They finding the ancient Woman, at a corner of her own Chimney, Epistemon said, She is indeed
a true Sybil, and the lively Pourtraict of one represented by the [...] of Homer. The old Hag was in
a pitiful bad plight and condition, in matter of the outward state and complexi|on of her Body, the
ragged and tottred Equipage of her Person, in the point of Accoutrement, and beggerly poor
Provi|sion of Fare for her Diet and Entertain|ment; for she was ill apparelled, worse nourished,
Toothless, Blear-eyed, Crook-shoulder'd, 139 snotty, her Nose still drop|ping, and herself still
drooping, faint, and pithless. Whilst in this wofully wretched case she was making ready for her
Dinner, Porridge of wrinkled green Colworts, with a bit skin of yellow Bacon, mixed with a
twice before crooked sort of watrish, unsavoury Broath, extracted out of bare and hollow Bones.
Epistemon said, By the Cross of a Groat, we are to blame, nor shall we get from her any
Responce at all: for we have not brought along with us the Branch of Gold. I have (quoth
Panurge) provided pretty well for that, for here I have it within my Bag, in the substance of a
Gold Ring, accompanied with some fair Pieces of small Money. No sooner were these words
spoken, when Panurge coming up towards her, after the Ceremo|nial performance of a profound
and hum|ble Salutation, presented her with six Neats-Tongues dried in the Smoke, a great Butter-
pot full of fresh Cheese, a Boracho furnished with good Beverage, and a Rams Cod stored with
Single Pence, newly coyned: At last he, with a low Curtsie, put on her Medical Finger, a pretty
hand|some Golden Ring, whereinto was right artificially inchased a precious Toadstone of
Beausse. This done, in few words, and very succinctly did he set open, and expose 140 unto her
the motive Reason of his coming, most civilly and courteously entreating her, that she might be
pleased to vouch|safe to give him an ample and plenary In|telligence, concerning the future good
luck of his intended Marriage.

The old Trot for a while remained si|lent, pensive, and girning like a Dog, then, after she had set
her withered Breech upon the bottom of a Bushel, she took into her Hands three old Spindles,
which when she had turned and whirled betwixt her Fingers very diversly, and after several
fashions, she pryed more nar|rowly into, by the tryal of their points; the sharpest whereof she
retained in her hand, and threw the other two under a Stone Trough; after this she took a pair of
Yarn Windles, which she nine times unintermittedly veered, and frisked about, then at the ninth
revolution or turn, with|out touching them any more, maturely perpending the manner of their
motion, she very demurely waited on their repose and cessation from any further stirring. In
sequel whereof, she pull'd off one of her wooden Pattens, put her Apron over her Head, as a
Priest use to do his Amice, when he is going to sing Mass, and with a kind of antick, gaudy,
party-colour'd String, knit it under her Neck. Being 141 thus covered and muffled, she whiffed
 295

off a lusty good Draught out of the Borachoe, took three several Pence forth of the Ram Cod
Fob, put them into so many Walnut-shells, which she set down upon the bot|tom of a Feather-
pot; and then after she had given them three Whisks of a Broom Besom a-thwart the Chimney,
casting in|to the Fire half a Bevin of long Heather, together with a Branch of dry Laurel, she
observed with a very hush, and coy si|lence, in what form they did burn, and saw, that although
they were in a flame, they made no kind of noise, or crackling din, hereupon she gave a most
hideous and horribly dreadful shout, muttering betwixt her Teeth some few barbarous words, of a
strange termination.

This so terrified Panurge, that he forth|with said to Epistemon, The Devil mince me into a Gally-
mafry, if I do not tremble for fear. I do not think but that I am now inchanted; for she uttereth not
her Voice in the terms of any Christian Language. O look, I pray you, how she seemeth unto me,
to be by three full spans higher than she was, when she began to hood her self with her Apron.

What meaneth this restless wagging of her slouchy Chaps? What can be the signification of the
uneven shrugging of 142 her hulchy Shoulders? to what end doth she quaver with her Lips, like a
Monkey in the dismembring of a Lobster? My Ears through horrour glow; ah! how they tingle. I
think I hear the skreaking of Proserpina; the Devils are breaking loose to be all here. O the foul,
ugly, and de|formed Beasts! Let us run away! by the Hook of God, I am like to die for fear! I do
not love the Devils; they vex me, and are unpleasant Fellows. Now let us fly, and betake us to
our heels. Farewel Gammer; Thanks and Grammercy for your Goods. I will not marry, no,
be|lieve me, I will not; I fairly quit my In|terest therein, and totally abandon and renounce it,
from this time forward, even as much as at present. With this, as he endeavoured to make an
escape out of the room, the old Crone did anticipate his flight, and make him stop; the way how
she prevented him was this: whilst in her hand she held the Spindle, she flung out to a Back-yard
close by her Lodge, where after she had peeled off the Barks of an old Sycamore, three several
times, she ve|ry summarily, upon eight Leaves which dropt from thence, wrote with the Spin|dle-
point some curt, and briefly couched Verses, which she threw into the Air, then said unto them,
Search after them if 143 you will; find them if you can; the fa|tal Destinies of your Marriage
written in them.

No sooner had she done thus speaking, when she did withdraw herself unto her lurking Hole,
where on the upper Seat of the Porch, she tucked up her Gown, her Coats and Smock, as high as
her Arm|pits, and gave them a full inspection of the Nockandroe: which being perceived by
Panurge, he said to Epistemon, Gods Bodekins, I see the Sybil's Hole. She sud|denly then bolted
the Gate behind her, and was never since seen any more. They joyntly ran in hast after the fallen
and di|spersed Leaves, and gathered them at last, though not without great labour and toyl, for
the Wind had scattered them amongst the Thorn-bushes of the Valley. When they had ranged
them each after other in their due places, they found out their Sen|tence, as it is metrified in this
Ocstatick:

Thy Fame upheld,

Even so, so:
And she with Child
Of thee: No.
Thy Good End
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Suck she shall,

And flay thee, Friend,
But not all.

144

CHAP. XVIII. How Pantagruel, and Panurge did di|versly Expound the Verses of the Sybil
of Panzoust.

THE Leaves being thus collected, and orderly disposed, Epistemon and Pa|nurge returned to
Pantagruel's Court, part|ly well pleased, and other part discontent|ed: glad for their being come
back, and vexed for the trouble they had sustained by the way, which they found to be craggy,
rugged, stony, rough, and ill adjusted. They made an ample and full Relation of their Voyage,
unto Pantagruel; as likewise of the Estate and Condition of the Sybil. Then having presented to
him the Leaves of the Sycamore, they shew him the short and twattle Verses that were written in
them. Pantagruel having read and considered the whole sum and sub|stance of the matter, fetch'd
from his Heart a deep and heavy Sigh, then said to Panurge: You are now, forsooth, in a good
taking, and have brought your Hogs 145 to a fine Market: the Prophesie of the Sybil doth explain
and lay out before us, the same very Predictions which have been denotated, foretold, and
presaged to us by the Decree of the Virgilian Lots, and the Verdict of your own proper Dreams:
to wit, that you shall be very much disgraced, shamed, and discredited by your Wife: for that she
will make you a Cuckold in prostituting herself to others, being big with Child by another than
you; will steal from you a great deal of your Goods, and will beat you, scratch, and bruise you,
even from plucking the skin in apart from off you; will leave the Print of her Blows in some
Member of your Body. You understand as much (an|swered Panurge) in the veritable
Inter|pretation, and Expounding of recent Pro|phesies, as a Sow in the matter of Spice|ry. Be not
offended (Sir, I beseech you) that I speak thus boldly; for I find myself a little in Choler, and that
not without cause, seeing it is the contrary that is true; take heed, and give attentive Ear unto my
words: The old Wife said, that as the Bean is not seen till first it be unhuskt, and that its swad or
hull be shaled, and pilled from off it: so is it that my vertue and transcendent worth will never
come by the Mouth of Fame, to be blazed abroad 146 proportionable to the height, extent, and
measure of the excellency thereof, until preallably I get a Wife, and make the full half of a
married Couple. How many times have I heard you say, that the Fun|ction of a Magistrate, or
Office of Digni|ty, discovereth the Merits, Parts, and En|dowments of the Person so advanced
and promoted, and what is in him: that is to say, we are then best able to judge aright of the
Deservings of a Man, when he is called to the management of Affairs: for when before he lived
in a private Condi|tion, we could have no more certain knowledge of him, then of a Bean within
his Husk. And thus stands the first Arti|cle explained: otherways could you ima|gine, that the
good Fame, Repute, and Estimation of an Honest Man, should de|pend upon the Tayl of a
Whore?

Now to the meaning of the Second Ar|ticle: My Wife will be with Child, (here lies the prime
Felicity of Marriage) but not of me. Copsody, that I do believe indeed: It will be of a pretty little
Infant: O how heartily I shall love it! I do alrea|dy dote upon it; for it will be my dain|ty Fedle-
 297

darling, my gentiel Dilli-minion. From thenceforth no Vexation, Care, or Grief, shall take such
deep impression in my Heart, how hugely great or vehement 147 soever it otherways appear; but
that it shall evanish forthwith, at the sight of that my future Babe; and at the hearing of the Chat
and Prating of its Childish Gibbridge: And blessed be the Old Wife. By my truly, I have a mind
to settle some good Revenue or Pension upon her, out of the readiest Increase of the Lands of my
Salmigondinois; not an inconstant, and uncertain Rent-seek, like that of witless, giddy-headed
Batchellors, but sure and fix|ed, of the nature of the well-payed In|comes of Regenting Doctors.

If this Interpretation doth not please you, think you my Wife will bear me in her Flanks:
Conceive with me, and be of me delivered, as Women use in Childbed to bring forth their Young
Ones: so as that it may be said, Panurge is a second Bacchus, he hath been twice born; he is re-
born, as was Hypolitus, as was Proteus, one time of Thetis; and secondly, of the Mother of the
Philosopher Apollonius: as were the two Palices, near the Flood Same|thoe, in Sicily: his Wife
was big of Child with him. In him is renewed and begun again the Palintocy, and of the
Megariens, and the Palingenesie of Democritus. Fie up|on such Errors, to hear stuff of that
na|ture rends mine Ears.

148 The words of the third Article are: She will suck me at my best End. Why not? that pleaseth
me right well. You know the thing, I need not tell you, that it is my intercrural Pudding with one
end. I swear and promise, that in what I can, I will preserve it sappy, full of juyce, and as well
victualled for her use as may be; she shall not suck me, I believe, in vain, nor be destitute of her
allowance; there shall her justum both in Peck and Lippy be furnish'd to the full eternally. You
ex|pound this passage allegorically, and in|terpret it to Theft and Larceny. I love the Exposition,
and the Allegory pleaseth me; but not according to the Sence whereto you stretch it. It may be
that the sincerity of the Affection which you bear me· moveth you to harbour in your Breast
those refractory thoughts concern|ing me, with a suspition of my Adversity to come. We have
this saying from the Learned, That a marvelously fearful thing is Love, and that true Love is
never without fear. But (Sir) according to my Judg|ment, you do understand both of and by your
self, that here Stealth signifieth no|thing else, no more then in a thousand other places of Greek
and Latin, Old and Modern Writings, but the sweet fruits of amorous Dalliance, which Venus
liketh 149 best, when reap'd in secret, and cull'd by fervent Lovers filchingly.

Why so? I prithee tell: Because when the Feat of the loose Coat Skirmish hap|peneth to be done
under-hand and privi|ly, between two well-disposed, athwart the Steps of a Pair of Stairs,
lurkingly, and in covert, behind a Suit of Hangings, or close hid and trussed upon an unbound
Faggot, it is more pleasing to the Cyprian Goddess, (and to me also, I speak this without
prejudice to any better, or more sound Opinion) then to perform that Cul|busting Art, after the
Cynick manner, in the view of the clear Sun-shine, or in a rich Tent, under a precious stately
Cano|py, within a glorious and sublime Pavili|on, or yet on a soft Couch betwixt rich Curtains of
Cloth of Gold, without af|frightment, at long intermediate Respits, enjoying of Pleasures and
Delights a Belly|full, all at great ease, with a huge fly-flap Fan of Crimson Sattin, and a Bunch of
Feathers of some East-Indian Ostrich, ser|ving to give Chace unto the Flyes all round about:
whilst; in the Interim, the Female picks her Teeth with a stiff Straw, pick'd even then from out of
the bottom of the Bed she lies on.
 298

150 If you be not content with this my Ex|position, are you of the mind that my Wife will suck
and sup me up as People use to gulp and swallow Oysters out of the Shell? Or as the Cilician
Women, accor|ding to the Testimony of Dioscorides, were wont to do the Grain of Alkermes?
Assu|redly that is an Error. Who seizeth on it, doth neither gulch up, nor swill down; but takes
away what hath been packed up, catcheth, snatcheth, and plies the Play of Hey pass, Repass.

The Fourth Article doth imply, That my Wife will flay me, but not at all. O the fine Word! You
interpret this to beating Strokes and Blows. Speak wisely: Will you eat a Pudding? Sir, I beseech
you to raise up your Spirits above the low-sized pitch of earthly Thoughts unto that hight of
sublime Contemplation, which reacheth to the Apprehension of the Mysteries and Wonders of
Dame Na|ture. And here be pleased to condemn your self, by a renouncing of those Errors which
you have committed very grosly, and somewhat perversly, in expounding the Prophetick Sayings
of the Holy Sybil. Yet put the case (albeit I yield not to it) that by the Instigation of the Devil, my
Wife should go about to wrong me, make me a Cuckold downwards to the very 151 Breech,
disgrace me otherways, steal my Goods from me; yea, and lay vio|lently her Hands upon me; she
neverthe|less should fail of her Attempts, and not attain to the proposed end of her unrea|sonable
Undertakings.

The Reason which induceth me hereto, is grounded totally on this last Point, which is extracted
from the profoundest Privacies of a Monastick Pantheology, as good Friar Arther Wagtaile told
me once upon a Monday morning; as we were (if I have not forgot) eating a Bushel of Trot|ter-
pies; and I remember well it rained hard: God give him the good Morrow.

The Women at the beginning of the World, or a little after, conspired to flay the Men quick,
because they found the Spirit of Mankind inclined to domineer it, and bear rule over them upon
the face of the whole Earth; and in pursuit of this their Resolution, promised, confir|med, sworn
and covenanted amongst them all, by the pure Faith they owe to the nocturnal Sanct Rogero. But
O the vain Enterprises of Women! O the great Fra|gility of that Sex Feminine! They did begin to
flay the Man, or pill him, (as says Catullus) at that Member which of all the Body they loved
best; to wit, the nervous and cavernous Cane; and that above five 152 thousand years ago; yet
have they not of that small part alone flayed any more till this hour but the Head: In meer despite
whereof the Iews snip off that parcel of the Skin in Circumcision, choosing far rather to be called
Clip-yards, Raskals, than to be flayed by Women, as are other Nations. My Wife, according to
this Fe|male Covenant, will flay it to me, if it be not so already. I heartily grant my Con|sent
thereto, but will not give her leave to flay it all: Nay, truly will I not, my no|ble King. Yea, but
(quoth Epistemon) you say nothing of her most dreadful Cries and Exclamations, when she and
we both saw the Lawrel-bough burn without yielding any noise or crackling. You know it is a
very dismal Omen, an inauspicious sign, unlucky judice, and token formidable, bad, disastrous,
and most unhappy, as is certified by Propertius, Tibullus, the quick Philosopher Porphyrius,
Eustachius on the Iliads of Homer, and by many others.

Verily, verily, (quoth Panurge) brave are the Allegations which you bring me, and Testimonies
of two-footed Calves. These Men were Fools, as they were Po|ets; and Dotards, as they were
Philoso|phers; full of Folly, as they were of Phi|losophy.
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153

CHAP. XIX. How Pantagruel praiseth the Counsel of Dumb Men.

PAntagruel, when this Discourse was ended, held for a pretty while his Peace, seeming to be
exceeding sad and pensive, then said to Panurge, the malig|nant Spirit misleads, beguileth and
sedu|ceth you. I have read that in times past the surest and most veritable Oracles were not those
which either were delivered in Writing, or utter'd by word of Mouth in speaking: For many
times, in their Interpretation, right witty, learned and ingenious Men have been deceived thro'
Amphibolories, Equivoks, and Obscurity of Words, no less than by the brevity of their
Sentences. For which cause Apollo, the God of Vaticination, was Surnamed [...]. Those which
were represented then by Signs and outward Gestures were accounted the truest and the most
infal|lible. Such was the Opinion of Heracli|tus: And Iupitur did himself in this man|ner 154 give
forth in Amon frequently Predi|ctions: Nor was he single in this Pra|ctice; for Apollo did the like
amongst the Assyrians. His prophesying thus unto those People, moved them to paint him with a
large long Beard, and Cloaths be|seeming an old setled Person, of a most posed, stayed and grave
Behaviour; not naked, young and beardless, as he was pourtrayed most usually amongst the
Graecians. Let us make trial of this kind of Fatidicency; and go you take Advice of some dumb
Person without any speak|ing. I am content, (quoth Panurge.) But, says Pantagruel, it were
requisite that the Dumb you consult with be such as have been deaf from the hour of their
Nativi|ty, and consequently dumb; for none can be so lively, natural, and kindly dumb, as he who
never heard.

How is it, (quoth Panurge) that you conceive this matter? If you apprehend it so, that never any
spoke, who had not before heard the Speech of others, I will from that Antecedent bring you to
infer very logically a most absurd and pa|radoxical Conclusion. But let it pass; I will not insist on
it. You do not then believe what Herodotus wrote of two Chil|dren, who at the special Command
and Appointment of Psammeticus King of E|gypt, 155 having been kept in a petty Coun|try
Cottage, where they were nourished and entertained in a perpetual silence, did at last, after a
certain long space of time, pronounce this word Bee, which in the Phrygian Language signifieth
Bread. No|thing less (quoth Pantagruel) do I believe, than that it is a meer abusing of our
Un|derstandings to give Credit to the words of those, who say that there is any such thing as a
Natural Language. All Speeches have had their primary Origin from the Arbitrary Institutions,
Accords and Agree|ments of Nations in their respective Con|descendments to what should be
noted and betokened by them. An Articulate Voice (according to the Dialecticians) hath naturally
no signification at all; for that the sence and meaning thereof did totally depend upon the good
will and pleasure of the first Deviser and Imposer of it. I do not tell you this without a Cause; for
Bartholus, Lib. 5. de Verb. Oblig. very seriously reporteth, that even in his time there was in
Cugubia one na|med Sir Nello de Gabrielis, who although he by a sad mischance became
altogether deaf, understood nevertheless every one that talked in the Italian Dialect howsoe|ver
he expressed himself; and that only by looking on his external Gestures, and 156 casting an
attentive Eye upon the divers motions of his Lips and Chaps. I have read, I remember also, in a
very literate and eloquent Author, that Turidates King of Armenia, in the days of Nero, made a
Voyage to Rome, where he was received with great Honour and Solemnity, and with all manner
 300

of Pomp and Magnifi|cence: Yea, to the end there might be a sempiternal Amity and
Correspondence preserved betwixt him and the Roman Se|nate; there was no remarkable thing in
the whole City which was not shown un|to him.

At his Departure the Emperor bestow|ed upon him many ample Donatives of an inestimable
Value: And besides, the more entirely to testifie his Affection to|wards him, heartily intrusted
him to be pleased to make choice of any whatsoever thing in Rome was most agreeable to his
Fancy; with a Promise juramentally confirmed, That he should not be refused of his Demand.
Thereupon, after a suitable Return of Thanks for a so graci|ous Offer, he required a certain Iack-
pudding, whom he had seen to act his part most egregiously upon the Stage, and whose meaning
(albeit he knew not what it was he had spoken) he understood per|fectly enough by the Signs and
Gesticula|tions 157 which he had made. And for this Suit of his, in that he asked nothing else, he
gave this Reason, That in the several wide and spacious Dominions, which were reduced under
the Sway and Au|thority of his Sovereign Government, there were sundry Countries and Nations
much differing from one another in Lan|guage, with whom, whether he was to speak unto them,
or give any Answer to their Requests, he was always necessitated to make use of divers sorts of
Truchmen and Interpreters: Now with this Man a|lone, sufficient for supplying all their pla|ces,
will that great Inconveniency here|after be totally removed; seeing he is such a fine Gesticulator,
and in the Practice of Chirology an Artist so compleat, expert and dextrous, that with his very
Fingers he doth speak. Howsoever you are to pitch upon such a dumb Bone as is deaf by na|ture,
and from his Birth; to the end that his Gestures and Signs may be the more vively and truly
Prophetick, and not counterfeit by the intermixture of some adulterate Lustre and Affectation.
Yet whether this dumb Person shall be of the Male or Female Sex is in your Option, lieth at your
Discretion, and altogether dependeth on your own Election.

158 I would more willingly (quoth Pa|nurge) consult with and be advised by a Dumb Woman,
were it not that I am affraid of two things. The first is, That the greater part of Women, whatever
it be that they see, do always represent un|to their Fancies, think and imagine, that it hath some
relation to the sugred entring of the goodly Ithypallos, and graffing in the Cleft of the overturned
Tree, the quick-set Imp of the Pin of Copulation. Whatever Signs, Shews or Gestures we shall
make, or whatever our Behaviour, Carriage or Demeanour shall happen to be in their view and
Presence, they will interpret the whole in reference to the act of Androgynation, and the
culbatizing Exercise, by which means we shall be abusively disappointed of our Designs, in
regard that she will take all our Signs for nothing else but Tokens and Repre|sentations of our
Desire to entice her un|to the Lists of a Cyprian Combat, or Cat|senconny Skirmish.

Do you remember what hapned at Rome two hundred and threescore Years after the Foundation
thereof? A young Roman Gentleman encountring by chance at the Foot of Mount Celion with a
beauti|ful Latin-Lady named Verona, who from her very Cradle upwards had always been 159
both deaf and dumb, very civilly asked her, (not without a Chironomatick Italia|nising of his
Demand, with various Je|ctigation of his Fingers, and other Ge|sticulations, as yet customary
amongst the Speakers of that Country) what Senators in her Descent from the top of the Hill she
had met with going up thither. For you are to conceive, that he knowing no more of her Deafness
than Dumbness, was ignorant of both. She in the mean time, who neither heard nor understood
so much as one word of what he had said, streight imagin'd, by all that she could apprehend in
the lovely Gesture of his manual Signs, that what he then required of her was, what her self had a
 301

great mind to, even that which a Young Man doth naturally desire of a Woman. Then was it, that
by Signs (which in all oc|currences of Venerial Love are incompa|rably more attractive, valid and
efficaci|ous than Words) she beckned to him to come along with her to her House; which when
he had done, she drew him aside to a privy Room, and then made a most lively alluring Sign
unto him, to shew that the Game did please her. Whereup|on, without any more Advertisement,
or so much as the uttering of one Word on either side, they fell to, and bringuardised it lustily.

160 The other Cause of my being averse from consulting with dumb Women, is, that to our
Signs they would make no an|swer at all, but suddenly fall backwards in a divarication posture,
to intimate thereby unto us the reality of their consent to the supposed motion of our tacit
Demands. Or if they should chance to make any con|tre-signs responsory to our Propositions,
they would prove so foolish, impertinent, and ridiculous, that by them our selves should easily
judge their thoughts to have no excursion beyond the duffling Aca|demy. You know very well
how at Cro|quiniole, when the religious Nun, sister Fatbum, was made big with Child by the
young Stifly-Stantor, her Pregnancy came to be known, and she cited by the Abbess, and in a full
Convention of the Convent, accused of Incest. Her excuse was, That she did not consent thereto,
but that it was done by the violence and impetuous force of the Friar Stifly-stand-to[...]t. Hereto
the Abbess very austerely replying, Thou naughty wicked Girl, why didst thou not cry, a Rape, a
Rape, then should all of us have run to thy Succour. Her answer was, That the Rape was
committed in the Dorter, where she durst not cry, because it was a place of sempiternal Silence.
But (quoth the Abbess) thou roguish Wench, 161 why didst not thou then make some sign to
those that were in the next Chamber beside thee? To this she answered, That with her Buttocks
she made a sign unto them, as vigorously as she could, yet ne|ver one of them did so much as
offer to come to her help and assistance. But (quoth the Abbess) thou scurvy baggage, why didst
not thou tell it me immediately after the perpetration of the Fact, that so we might orderly,
regularly, and canoni|cally have accused him? I would have done so, had the case been mine, for
the clearer manifestation of mine Innocency. I truly, Madam, would have done the like with all
my heart and soul, (quoth Sister Fatbum) but that fearing I should remain in Sin, and in the
hazard of Eternal Dam|nation, if prevented by a sudden Death, I did confess my self to the Father
Fryar before he went out of the Room, who for my Penance, enjoyned me not to tell it, or reveal
the matter unto any. It were a most enormous and horrid Offence, de|testable before God and the
Angels, to re|veal a Confession: such an abominable Wickedness would have possibly brought
down Fire from Heaven, wherewith to have burnt the whole Nunnery, and sent us all headlong to
the bottomless Pit, to bear company with Corah, Dathan, and A|biram. 162 You will not (quoth
Pantagruel) with all your Jesting make me laugh; I know that all Monks, Fryars, and Nuns had
rather violate and infringe the highest of the Commandments of God, then break the least of their
Provincial Sta|tutes.

Take you therefore Goatsnose, a Man very fit for your present purpose; for he is, and hath been,
both dumb and deaf from the very remotest Infancy of his Childhood.

CHAP. XX. How Goatsnose by signs maketh answer to Panurge.

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Goatsnose being sent for, came the day thereafter to Pantagruel's Court; at his arrival to which
Panurge gave him a fat Calf, the half of a Hog, two Punchi|ons of Wine, one Load of Corn, and
thirty Franks of small Money: then ha|ving brought him before Pantatgruel, in presence of the
Gentlemen of the Bed-chamber, he made this sign unto him. 163 He yawned along time, and in
yawning made without his mouth with the thumb of his right hand the figure of the Greek Letter
Tau by frequent reiterations. After|wards he lifted up his eyes to Heaven|wards, then turned them
in his Head like a Shee-goat in the painful fit of an abso|lute Birth, in doing whereof he did
cough and sigh exceeding heavily: This done, after that he had made demonstration of the want
of his Codpiece, he from under his shirt took his Placket-racket in a full gripe, making it
therewithal clack very melodiously betwixt his Thighs: then no sooner had he with his Body
stooped a lit|tle forwards, and bowed his left Knee, but that immediately thereupon holding both
his Arms on his Breast, in a loose faint-like Posture, the one over the other, he paused awhile.
Goatsnose looked wistly up|on him, and having heedfully enough view|ed him all over, he lifted
up into the Air his left Hand, the whole fingers whereof he retained fist-ways closed together,
ex|cept the Thumb and the Fore-finger, whose Nails he softly joyned and coupled to one another.
I understand (quoth Pantagruel) what he meaneth by that sign: it denotes marriage, and withal
the number thirty, ac|cording to the Profession of Pythagorians, you will be married. Thanks to
you (quoth 164 Panurge) in turning himself towards Goats|nose, my little Sewer, pretty Masters-
mate, dainty Baily, curious Sergeant-Marshal, and jolly Catchpole-leader. Then did he lift higher
up than before his said left Hand, stretching out all the five Fingers thereof, and severing them as
wide from one ano|ther as he possibly could get done. Here (says Pantagruel) doth he more
amply and fully insinuate unto us, by the Token which he sheweth forth of the Quinary number,
that you shall be married. Yea, that you shall not only be affianced, be|trothed, wedded, and
married, but that you shall furthermore cohabit, and live jollily and merrily with your Wife; for
Pythagoras called five the Nuptial Number, which together with marriage, signifieth the
Consummation of Matrimony, because it is composed of a ternary the first of the odd, and
binary, the first of the even Num|bers, as of a Male and Female knit and u|nited together. In very
deed it was the fashion of old in the City of Rome at Mar|riage Festivals to light five wax Tapers,
nor was it permitted to kindle any more at the magnifick Nuptials of the most Po|tent and
Wealthy; nor yet any fewer at the penurious Weddings of the Poorest and most Abject of the
World. Moreover in times past, the Heathen, or Paynius im|plored 165 the Assistance of five
Deities, or of one helpful (at least) in five several good Offices to those that were to be married:
of this sort were the Nuptial Iove, Iuno, President of the Feast, the fair Venus, Pi|tho the Goddess
of Eloquence and Perswa|sion, and Diana, whose aid and succour was required to the labour of
Child-bear|ing. Then shouted Panurge, O the gen|tile Goatsnose, I will give him a Farm near
Gnais, and a Wind-mill hard by Mireba|lais. Hereupon the dumb Fellow sneezeth with an
impetuous vehemency, and huge concussion of the Spirits of the whole Bo|dy, withdrawing
himself in so doing with a jerting turn towards the left hand. By the Body of a Fox new slain
(quoth Pan|tagruel) what is that? this maketh nothing for your advantage; for he betokeneth
thereby that your marriage will be inauspi|cious and unfortunate. This snezing (accord|ing to the
Doctrine of Terpsion, is the Socra|tick Demon) if done towards the right side, it imports and
portendeth, that boldly, and with all assurance, one may go whither he will, and do what he
listeth, according to what deliberation he shall be pleased to have thereupon taken: his entries in
the beginning, progress in his proceedings, and success in the events and issues will be all lucky,
good, and happy. The quite con|trary 166 thereto is thereby implied and pre|saged, if it be done
towards the left. You (quoth Panurge) do take always the matter at the worst, and continually,
 303

like ano|ther Davus, casteth in new disturbances and obstructions; nor ever yet did I know this
old paultry Terpsion worthy of citation, but in points only of Cosenage and Impo|sture.
Nevertheless (quoth Pantagruel) Cicero hath written I know not what to the same purpose in his
Second Book of Divina|tion.

Panurge then turning himself towards Goatsnose made this sign unto him. He in|verted his Eye-
lids upwards, wrinched his Jaws from the right to the left side, and drew forth his Tongue half
out of his Mouth; this done, he posited his left Hand wholly open (the mid-finger wholly
ex|cepted, which was perpendicularly placed upon the Palm thereof) and set it just in the room
where his Codpiece had been. Then did he keep his right Hand altoge|ther shut up in a fist, save
only the Thumb, which he streight turned backwards di|rectly under the right Arm-pit, and
settled it afterwards on that most eminent part of the Buttocks which the Arabs call the Alkatim.
Suddenly thereafter he made this interchange, he held his right Hand after the manner of the left,
and posited 167 it on the place wherein his Codpiece some|time was, and retaining his left Hand
in the form and fashion of the right, he pla|ced it upon his Alkatim: this altering of Hands did he
reiterate nine several times; at the last whereof, he reseated his Eye|lids into their own first
natural position. Then doing the like also with his Jaws and Tongue, he did cast a squinting look
up|on Goatsnose, diddering and shivering his Chaps, as Apes use to do now-a-days, and Rabbets,
whilst almost starved with hun|ger, they are eating Oats in the Sheaf.

Then was it that Goatsnose lifting up in|to the Air his right Hand wholly open and displayed, put
the Thumb thereof, even close unto its first articulation, be|tween the two third Joints of the
middle and ring fingers, pressing about the said Thumb thereof very hard with them both, and
whilst the remainent Joints were con|tracted and shrunk in towards the Wrist, he stretched forth
with as much straitness as he could, the fore and little fingers. That hand thus framed and
disposed of, he laid and posited upon Panurge's Navel, mo|ving withal continually the aforesaid
Thumb, and bearing up, supporting, or under-propping that Hand upon the above specified, and
fore and little fingers, as up|on two Leggs. Thereafter did he make 168 in this posture his Hand
by little and little, and by degrees and pauses, successively to mount from athwart the Belly to
the Sto|mach, from whence he made it to ascend to the Breast, even upwards to Panurges's Neck,
still gaining ground, till having reached his Chin he had put within the concave of his Mouth his
afore-mentioned Thumb: then fiercely brandishing the whole Hand, which he made to rub and
grate against his Nose, he heaved it fur|ther up, and made the fashion, as if with the Thumb
thereof he would have put out his Eyes. With this Panurge grew a little angry, and went about to
withdraw, and rid himself from this ruggedly untoward dumb Devil. But Goatsnose in the mean
time prosecuting the intended purpose of his Prognosticatory Response, touched very rudely
with the above-mentioned shaking Thumb, now his Eyes, then his Forehead, and after that, the
borders and corners of his Cap. At last Panurge cried out, saying, Before God, Master-Fool, if
you do not let me alone, or that you will presume to vex me any more, you shall receive from the
best hand I have a Mask, wherewith to cover your rascally scoundred Face, you paultry shitten
Varlet. Then said Fryar Ihon, he is deaf, and doth not understand what thou sayest unto him.
Bulliballock, 169 make sign to him of a hail of Fisticuffs up|on the Muzzle.

What the Devil (quoth Panurge) means this busie restless Fellow? what is it that this
Polypragmonetick Ardelione to all the Fiends of Hell doth aim at? he hath almost thrust out mine
Eyes, as if he had been to potch them in a Skillet with Butter and Eggs, by God, da Iurandi, I
 304

will feast you with flirts and raps on the Snout, in|terlarded with a double row of bobs and finger
filipings? Then did he leave him in giving him by way of Salve a Volley of Farts for his Farewel.
Goatsnose perceiv|ing Panurge thus to slip away from him, got before him, and by meer strength
en|forcing him to stand, made this sign unto him. He let fall his right Arm toward his Knee on the
same side as low as he could, and raising all the fingers of that Hand in|to a close fist, past his
dexterer Thumb be|twixt the foremost and mid-fingers there|to belonging. Then scrubbing and
swindg|ing a little with his left Hand alongst, and upon the uppermost in the very bought of the
Elbow of the said dexter Arm, the whole Cubit thereof by leisure fair, and softly, at these
thumpatory warnings, did raise and elevate it self even to the El|bow, and above it, on a suddain
did he then let it fall down as low as before: and 170 after that, at certain intervals and such
spa|ces of time, raising and abasing it, he made a shew thereof to Panurge. This so incen|sed
Panurge, that he forthwith lifted his Hand to have strucken him the dumb Royster, and given him
a sound whirret on the Ear, but that the respect and reve|rence which he carried to the Presence of
Pantagruel restrained his Choler, and kept his Fury within bounds and limits. Then said
Pantagruel, If the bare signs now vex and trouble you, how much more grie|vously will you be
perplexed and disquie|ted with the real things, which by them are represented and signified. All
Truths agree, and are consonant with one ano|ther; this dumb Fellow Prophesieth and Foretelleth
that you will be married, cuckold|ed, beaten and robbed. As for the marriage (quoth Panurge) I
yield thereto, and ac|knowledge the verity of that point of his Prediction; as for the rest I utterly
abjure and deny it: and believe Sir, I beseech you, if it may please you so to do, that in the matter
of Wives and Horses, never any Man was predestinated to a better Fortune than I.

171

CHAP. XXI. How Panurge consulteth with an old French Poet, named Raminagrobis.

I Never thought (said Pantagruel) to have encountred with any Man so head|strong in his
Apprehensions, or in his O|pinions so wilful, as I have found you to be, and see you are.
Nevertheless, the better to clear and extricate your Doubts, let us try all courses, and leave no
stone unturned, nor wind unsailed by. Take good heed to what I am to say unto you, the Swans,
which are Fouls consecrated to Apollo, never chant but in the hour of their approaching Death,
especially in the Me|ander Flood, which is a River that run|neth along some of the Territories of
Phrygia. This I say, because Elianus and Alexander Wyndius write, that they had seen several
Swans in other places die, but ne|ver heard any of them sing, or chant be|fore their death.
However, it passeth for current that the imminent death of a Swan is presaged by his foregoing
Song, and 172 that no Swan dieth until preallably he have Sung.

After the same manner Poets, who are under the protection of Apollo, when they are drawing
near their latter end, do or|dinarily become Prophets, and by the in|spiration of that God sing
sweetly, in va|ticinating things which are to come. It hath been likeways told me frequently, That
old decrepit Men upon the Brinks of Charon's Banks, do usher their Decease with a disclosure,
all at ease (to those that are desirous of such Informations) of the determinate and assured truth
of future Accidents and Contingencies. I remem|ber also that Aristophanes, in a certain Co|medy
of his, calleth folks Sybils, [...], for as when being upon a Peer by the Shore, we see afar off
 305

Mariners, Sea|faring men, and other Travellers alongst the curled Waves of Azure Thetis within
their Ships, we then consider them in si|lence only, and seldom proceed any fur|ther than to wish
them a happy and pro|sperous Arrival: but when they do ap|proach near to the Haven, and come
to wet their Keels within their Harbour, then both with words and gestures we salute them, and
heartily congratulate their Ac|cess safe to the Port wherein we are our selves. Just so the Angels,
Heroes, and 173 good Demons (according to the Doctrine of Platonicks) when they see Mortals
draw|ing near unto the Harbour of the Grave, as the most sure and calmest Port of any, full of
Repose, Ease, Rest, Tranquility; free from the Troubles and Sollicitudes of this tumultuous and
tempestuous World; then is it that they with alacrity Hale and Salute them, Cherish and Comfort
them, and speaking to them lovingly, begin even then to bless them with Illuminations, and to
communicate unto them the abstrusest Mysteries of Divination. I will not offer here to confound
your Memory by quo|ting antick Examples of Isaac, of Iacob, of Patroclus towards Hector, of
Hector to|wards Achilles, of Polymnester towards A|gamemnon, of Hecuba, of the Phodian
re|nowned by Possidonius, of Calanus the In|dian towards Alexander the Great, of Oro|des
towards Mezentius, and of many others; it shall suffice for the present, that I com|memorate unto
you the learned and vali|ant Knight and Cavalier William of Ballay, late Lord of Langcy, who
died on the Hill of Tarara, the Tenth of Ianuary, in the Cli|macterick year of his Age, and of our
Sup|putation 1543. according to the Roman Account. The last three or four hours of his Life he
did imploy in the serious ut|terance of a very pithy Discourse, whilst 174 with a clear Judgment,
and Spirit void of all Trouble, he did foretell several impor|tant Things, whereof a great deal is
come to pass, and the rest we wait for. How|beit, his Prophesies did at that time seem unto us
somewhat strange, absurd, and unlikely; because there did not then ap|pear any sign of efficacy
enough to engage our Faith to the belief of what he did prognosticate.

We have hear near to the Town of Vil|lomer, a Man that is both Old and a Poet, to wit,
Raminogrobis, who to his Second Wife espoused my Lady Broadsow, on whom he begot the fair
Basoche; it hath been told me, he is a dying, and so near unto his latter end, that he is almost
up|on the very last moment, point, and arti|cle thereof; repair thither as fast as you can, and be
ready to give an attentive Ear to what he shall chant unto you: it may be, that you shall obtain
from him what you desire, and that Apollo will be pleased, by his means, to clear your scruples. I
am content (quoth Panurge) let us go thi|ther Epistemon, and that both instantly and in all hast,
least otherways his Death prevent our coming. Wilt thou come a|long with us, Fryar Ihon? Yes,
that I will, (quoth Fryar Ihon) right heartily to do thee a Courtesie, my Billy-ballocks; for 175 I
love thee with the best of my Milt and Liver. Thereupon, incontinently, with|out any further
lingring to the way, they all three went, and quickly thereafter (for they made good speed)
arriving at the Poetical Habitation, they found the jolly Old Man, albeit in the Agony of his
De|parture from this World, looking chear|fully, with an open Countenance, splen|did Aspect,
and Behaviour full of alacri|ty. After that Panurge had very civilly saluted him, he in a free Gift
did present him with a Gold Ring, which he even then put upon the Medical Finger of his Left
Hand, in the Collet or Bezle where|of was inchased an Oriental Saphire, very fair and large.
Then, in imitation of So|crates, did he make an Oblation unto him of a fair White Cock; which
was no sooner set upon the Tester of his Bed, then that with a high raised Head and Crest, lustily
shaking his Feather-Coat, he crowed Sten|toriphonically loud. This done, Panurge very
courteously required of him, that he would vouchsafe to favour him with the Grant and Report of
his Sence and Judg|ment, touching the future Destiny of his intended Marriage. For answer
hereto, when the honest Old Man had forthwith commanded Pen, Paper, and Ink to be brought
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unto him, and that he was at the 176 same Call conveniently served with all the three, he wrote
these following Verses:

Take, or not take her,

Off, or on:
Handy-dandy is your Lot.
When her Name you write, you blot.
'Tis undone, when all is done,
Ended e're it was begun:
Hardly Gallop, if you Trot,
Set not forward when you Run,
Nor be single, tho' alone,
Take, or not take her.

Before you Eat, begin to Fast;

For what shall be was never past.
Say, unsay, gainsay, save your Breath:
Then wish at once her Life and Death.
Take, or not take her.

These Lines he gave out of his own Hands unto them, saying unto them, Go my Lads in Peace,
the great God of the highest Hea|vens be your Guardian and Preserver; and do not offer any
more to trouble or disquiet me with this or any other Business whatsoever. I have this same very
day (which is the last both of May and of me) with a great deal of labour, toyl, and difficulty,
chased out of my House a rabble of filthy, unclean, and plagui|ly pestilentious Rake-hells, black
Beasts, dusk, 177 dun, white, ash-coloured, speckled, and a foul Vermine of other hues, whose
obtrusive impor|tunity would not permit me to die at my own ease: for by fraudulent and
deceitful prick|lings, ravenous, Harpy-like graspings, wa|spish stingings, and such-like
unwelcome Ap|proaches, forged in the Shop of I know not what kind of Insatiabilities; they went
about to withdraw, and call me out of those sweet Thoughts, wherein I was already beginning to
repose myself, and acquiesce in the Contempla|tion and Vision; yea, almost in the very touch
and tast of the Happiness and Felicity which the good God hath prepared for his faithful Saints,
and Elect in the other Life, and State of Immortality. Turn out of their Courses, and eschew them,
step forth of their ways, and do not resemble them, mean while, let me be no more troubled by
you, but leave me now in silence, I beseech you.

178

CHAP. XXII. How Panurge Patrocinates and Defend|eth the Order of the Begging Fryars.
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PAnurge, at his issuing forth of Ramina|gobris's Chamber, said, as if he had been horribly
affrighted, by the Vertue of God, I believe that he is an Heretick, the Devil take me, if I do not;
he doth so villanously rail at the Mendicant Fryars, and Iacobins: who are the two Hemi|spheres
of the Christian World; by whose Gyronomonick Circumbilvaginations, as by two Celivagous
Filopendulums, all the Autonomatick Metagrobolism of the Ro|mish Church, when tottering and
emblu|stricated with the Gibble gabble Gibbrish of this odious Error and Heresie, is
homo|centrically poysed. But what harm in the Devil's Name, have these poor De|vils the
Capucins and Minims done unto him? Are not these beggarly Devils suf|ficiently wretched
already? Who can imagine that these poor Snakes, the very Extracts of Ichthyophagy, are not
throughly 179 enough besmoaked and besmeared with Misery, Distress, and Calamity? Dost
thou think, Fryar Ihon, by thy Faith, that he is in the State of Salvation? He goeth, before God, as
surely damned to Thirty thousand baskets full of Devils, as a Pru|ning-Bill to the lopping of a
Vine-Branch.

To revile with opprobrious Speeches the good and couragious Props and Pillars of the Church, is
that to be called a Poetical Fury? I cannot rest satisfied with him, he sinneth grosly, and
blasphemeth against the true Religion. I am very much of|fended at his scandalizing Words, and
con|tumelious Obloquy. I do not care a straw (quoth Fryar Ihon) for what he hath said; for
although every body should twit and jerk them, it were but a just retalia[...]on, seeing all Persons
are served by them with the like Sauce: therefore do I pretend no Interest therein. Let us see
nevertheless what he hath written. Panurge very at|tentively read the Paper which the Old Man
had penned, then said to his two Fellow-Travellers, The poor Drinker doteth: howsoever, I
excuse him; for that I be|lieve he is now drawing near to the end, and final closure of his Life:
Let us go make his Epitaph.

180 By the Answer which he hath given us, I am not, I protest, one jot wiser then I was, hearken
here Epistemon, my little Bully, dost not thou hold him to be very Resolute in his Responsory
Verdicts? he is a witty, quick, and subtle Sophister. I will lay an even Wager, that he is a
mis|creant Apostate. By the Belly of a stalled Oxe, how careful he is not to be mista|ken in his
words.

He answered but by Disjunctives, there|fore can it not be true which he saith; for the verity of
such like Propositions is inherent only in one of its two Members. O the cozening Pratler that he
is! I won|der if Santiago of Bressure be one of these cogging Shirks. Such was of old (quoth
Epistemon) the Custom of the grand Vati|cina[...]or and Prophet Teresias, who used always (by
way of a Preface) to say open|ly and plainly, at the beginning of his Di|vinations and Predictions,
that what he was to tell would either come to pass, or not: And such is truly the stile of all
prudently presaging Prognosticators. He was ne|vertheless (quoth Panurge) so unfortu|nately
misadventrous in the Lot of his own Destiny, that Iuno thrust out both his eyes.

181 Yes, (answered Epistemon) and that meerly out of a spight and spleen, for ha|ving
pronounced his award more verita|bly then she, upon the Question which was merrily proposed
by Iupiter. But (quoth Panurge) what Arch-Devil is it that hath possest this Master
Raminagrobis, that so unreasonably, and without any occasion, he should have so snappishly,
and bitterly inveighed against these poor honest Father, Iacobins, Minors, and Mi|nims? It vexeth
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me grievously, I assure you; nor am I able to conceal my indi|gnation. He hath transgressed most
enor|mously; his Soul goeth infallibly to thir|ty thousand Panniers full of Devils.

I understand you not (quoth Episte|mon) and it disliketh me very much, that you should so
absurdly and perversly in|terpret that of the Fryar Mendicants, which by the harmless Poet was
spoken of black Beasts, dun, and other sorts of other co|loured Animals. He is not in my Opini|on
guilty of such a sophistical and fanta|stick Allegory, as by that Phrase of his to have meaned the
Begging Brothers; he in down right Terms speaketh abso|lutely and properly of Fleas, Punies,
Hand-worms, Flies, Gnats, and other such-like scurvy Vermine, whereof some are black, some
dun, some ash-coloured, some taw|ny, 182 and some brown and dusky, all noy|some, molesting,
tyrannous, cumbersome, and unpleasing Creatures, not only to sick and diseased Folks, but to
those also who are of a sound, vigorous, and healthful Temperament and Constitution. It is not
unlike, that he may have the Asca|rids, and the Lumbricks, and Worms with|in the Intrails of his
Body. Possibly doth he suffer (as is frequent and usual amongst the Aegyptians, together with all
those who inhabit the Erythraean Confines, and dwell along the Shores and Coasts of the Red
Sea) some four prickings, and smart stingings in his Arms and Legs of those little speckled
Dragons, which the Ara|bians call Meden. You are to blame for offering to expound his Words
otherways, and wrong the ingenuous Poet, and out|ragiously abuse and miscall the said Fra|ters,
by an imputation of baseness unde|servedly laid to their charge. We still should in such-like
Discourses of fatilo|quent Southsayers, interpret all things to the best. Will you teach me (quoth
Pa|nurge) how to discern Flies among Milk, or shew your Father the way how to be|get
Children: He is, by the Vertue of God, an arrant Heretick, a resolute formal Heretick; I say, a
rooted combustible Here|tick, one as fit to burn as the little wood|en 183 Clock at Rochel. His
Soul goeth to Thir|ty thousand Carts-full of Devils. Would you know whither? Cocks-body, my
Friend, streight under Proserpina's Close-stool, to the very middle of the self-same infernal Pan,
within which she, by an ex|crementitious evacuation voideth the fecal stuff of her stinching
Clysters, and that just upon the left side of the great Caul|dron of three fathom height, hard by the
Claws and Talons of Lucifer, in the very darkest of the passage which leadeth to|wards the Black
Chamber of Demigorgon. Oh the Villain!

CHAP. XXIII. How Panurge maketh the motion of a Return to Raminagrobis.

LET us return, quoth Panurge, not cea|sing, to the uttermost of our Abili|ties, to ply him with
wholesome Admo|nitions, for the furtherance of his Salva|tion. Let us go back for God's sake, let
us go in the Name of God: it will be a very meritorious Work, and of great Cha|rity 184 in us to
deal so in the matter, and pro|vide so well for him, that albeit he come to lose both Body and
Life, he may at least escape the risk and danger of the eter|nal Damnation of his Soul. We will by
our holy perswasions bring him to a sence and feeling of his Escapes, induce him to
acknowledge his Faults, move him to a cordial Repentance of his Errors, and stir up in him such
a sincere Contrition of Heart for his Offences, as will prompt him with all earnestness to cry
Mercy, and to beg Pardon at the Hands of the good Fathers, as well of the absent, as of such as
are present: Whereupon we will take Instrument formally and authentical|ly extended, to the end
he be not, after his Decease, declared an Heretick, and condemned, as were the Hobgoblins of the
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Provost's Wife of Orleans, to the undergo|ing of such Punishments, Pains and Tor|tures, as are
due to, and inflicted on those that inhabit the horrid Cells of the infer|nal Regions: and withal
incline, instigate, and perswade him to bequeath, and leave in Legacy (by way of an amends and
sa|tisfaction for the outrage and injury done) to those good Religious Fathers, throughout all the
Convents, Cloysters, and Mona|stries of this Province, many Bribes, a great deal of Mass-
singing, store of Obits, 185 and that sempiternally, on the Anniver|sary Day of his Decease,
every one of them all be furnished with a quintuple Allow|ance: and that the great Borrachoe,
reple|nished with the best Liquor, trudge apace along the Tables, as well of the young Duckling,
Monkito's, Lay-Brothers, and lowermost degree of the Abbey-Lubbards, as of the Learned
Priests, and Reverend Clerks. The very meanest of the Novi|ces, and Mitiants unto the Order
being equally admitted to the benefit of those Funerary and Obsequial Festivals, with the aged
Rectors, and professed Fathers; this is the surest ordinary means, whereby from God he may
obtain forgiveness.

Ho, ho, I am quite mistaken, I digress from the purpose, and fly out of my Di|scourse, as if my
Spirits were a wool-ga|thering. The Devil take me, if I go thi|ther. Vertue, God, the Chamber is
al|ready full of Devils. O what a swinging, thwacking Noise is now amongst them! O the terrible
Coyl that they keep! Hear|ken, do you not hear the rustling thump|ing bustle of their Stroaks and
Blows, as they scuffle with one another, like true Devils indeed, who shall gulp up the
Ra|minogrobis Soul, and be the first Bringer of it, whilst it is hot, to Monsieur Lucifer. Beware,
and get you hence: for my part, 186 I will not go thither; the Devil roast me if I go. Who knows
but that these hun|gry mad Devils may in the hast of their rage and fury of their impatience, take
a quid for a quo, and instead of Raminagro|bis snatch up poor Panurge frank and free? Though
formerly, when I was deep in Debt, they always failed. Get you hence: I will not go thither.
Before God, the very bare apprehension thereof is like to kill me. To be in the place where there
are greedy, famished, and hunger-starved Devils; amongst factious Devils: amidst trading and
trafficking Devils: O the Lord preserve me! Get you hence, I dare pawn my Credit on it, that no
Iacobin, Corde|lier, Carme Capucin, Theatin, or Minim, will bestow any personal Presence at his
Inter|ment. The wiser they, because he hath ordained nothing for them in his latter Will and
Testament.

The Devil take me, if I go thither; if he be damned to his own loss and hin|drance be it. What the
Deuce moved him to be so snappish and depravedly bent a|gainst the good Fathers of the true
Reli|gion? Why did he cast them off, reject them, and drive them quite out of his Chamber, even
in that very nick of time when he stood in greatest need of the aid, suffrage, and assistance of
their devout 187 Prayers, and holy Admonitions? Why did not he by Testament leave them, at
least, some jolly Lumps and Cantles of substan|tial Meat, a parcel of Cheek-puffing Vi|ctuals,
and a litttle Belly-Timber, and Provision for the Guts of these poor Folks, who have nothing but
their Life in this World.

Let him go thither, who will; the Devil take me, if I go; for if I should, the Devil would not fail to
snatch me up. Cancro: Ho, the Pox! Get you hence, Fryar Ihon; Art thou content that Thirty
thousand Waineload of Devils should get away with thee at this same very instant? If thou be, at
my Request, do these Three things: First, Give me thy Purse; for besides, that thy Money is
marked with Crosses, and the Cross is an Enemy to Charms, the same may befall to thee, which
not long ago happened to Ihon Dodin, Colle|ctor of the Excise of Coudray, at the Ford of Vede,
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when the Soldiers broak the Planks. This money'd Fellow meeting at the very Brink of the Bank
of the Ford, with Fryar Adam Crankcod, a Franciscan Ob|servantin of Mirebeau, promised him
a new Frock, provided, that in the transporting of him over the Water, he would bear him up|on
his Neck and Shoulders, after the man|ner of carrying dead Goats: for he was a lusty, strong-
limb'd, sturdy Rogue.

188 The Condition being agreed upon, Friar Crankcod trusseth himself up to his very Ballocks,
and layeth upon his Back like a fair little Saint Christopher, the load of the said Supplicant
Dodin, and so car|ry'd him gayly and with a good Will; as Aeneas bore his Father Anchises
through the Conflagration of Troy, singing in the mean while a prety Ave maris Stella. When
they were in the very deepest place of all the Foord, a little above the Master-wheel of the Water-
Mill, he asked if he had any Coin about him. Yes, (quoth Dodin) a whole Bag full; and that he
needed not to mistrust his Ability in the performance of the Promise, which he had made unto
him, concerning a new Frock. How! (quoth Friar Cranckcod) thou knowest well enough, that by
the express Rules, Ca|nons and Injunctions of our Order, we are forbidden to carry on us any
kind of Money: Thou art truly unhappy, for having made me in this point to commit a hainous
Trespass. Why didst thou not leave thy Purse with the Miller? With|out fail thou shalt presently
receive thy Reward for it; and if ever hereafter I may but lay hold upon thee within the Limits of
our Chancel at Mirebeau, thou shalt have the Miserere even to the Vitulos. With this suddenly
discharging himself of 189 his Burthen, he throws me down your Do|din headlong.

Take Example by this Dodin, my dear Friend Friar Iohn, to the end that the Devils may the better
carry thee away at thine own ease. Give me thy Purse. Car|ry no manner of Cross upon thee.
There|in lieth an evident and manifestly appa|rent Danger: For if you have any Silver coined with
a Cross upon it, they will cast thee down headlong upon some Rocks; as the Eagles use to do
with the Tortoises for the breaking of their Shells, as the bald Pate of the Poet Eschilus can
suffici|ently bear witness. Such a Fall would hurt thee very sore by Sweet Bully, and I would be
sorry for it; or otherways they will let thee fall, and tumble down into the high swollen Waves of
some capacious Sea, I know not where; but I warrant thee far enough hence, (as Icarus fell)
which from thy Name would afterwards get the Denomination of the Funnelian Sea.

Secondly, Out of Debt: For the De|vils carry a great liking to those that are out of Debt. I have
sore felt the experi|ence thereof in mine own particular; for now the lecherous Varlets are always
woo|ing me, courting me, and making much of me, which they never did when I was 190 all to
pieces. The Soul of one in Debt is insipid, dry, and heretical altoge|ther.

Thirdly, With the Cowl and Domino de Grobis, return to Raminagrobis; and in case, being thus
qualify'd, Thirty Thou|sand Boats full of Devils forthwith come not to carry thee quite away, I
shall be content to be at the charge of paying for the Pinte and Fagot. Now if for the more
Security thou wouldst some Associ|ate to bear thee Company, let not me be the Comrade thou
searchest for, think not to get a Fellow-Traveller of me; nay, do not, I advise thee for the best.
Get you hence; I will not go thither; the Devil take me if I go. Notwithstanding all the Fright that
you are in, (quoth Fri|ar Ihon) I would not care so much, as might possibly be expected I should,
if I once had but my Sword in my hand. Thou hast verily hit the Nail on the Head, (quoth
Panurge) and speakest like a Learned Doctor, subtile, and well skil|led in the Art of Devilry.
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At the time when I was a Student in the University of Tolouse, that same Re|verend Father in the
Devil, Picarris, Re|ctor of the Diabological Faculty, was wont to tell us, that the Devils did
natu|rally fear the bright glancing of Swords, 191 as much as the Splendour and Light of the Sun.
In Confirmation of the Verity whereof he related this Story, That Her|cules at his Descent into
Hell to all the Devils of those Regions, did not by half so much terrifie them with his Club and
Lion's Skin, as afterwards Aeneas did with his clear shining Armour upon him, and his Sword in
his hand well furbished and unrusted, by the Aid, Council and Assi|stance of the Sybilla
Cumana. That was per|haps the reason why the Senior Ihon Iaco|mo di Trivulcio, whilst he was a
dying at Chartres, called for his Cutlass, and died with a Drawn Sword in his hand, laying about
him alongst and athwart around the Bed, and every where within his reach, like a stout, doughty,
valorous and Knight-like Cavaleer: By which resolute manner of Fence he scared away and put
to flight all the Devils that were then ly|ing in wait for his Soul at the passage of his Death. When
the Malsorets and Ca|balists are asked, Why it is that none of all the Devils do at any time enter
into the Terestrial Paradice? Their Answer hath been, is, and will be still, That there is a
Cherubin standing at the Gate thereof with a Flame-like glistering Sword in his hand. Although
to speak in the true Diabological Sence or Phrase of Toledo, 192 I must needs confess and
acknowledge, that veritably the Devils cannot be killed, or die by the stroke of a Sword. I do
ne|vertheless avow and maintain, according to the Doctrine of the said Diabology, that they may
suffer a Solution of Con|tinuity; (as if with thy Shable thou shouldst cut athwart the Flamme of a
burning Fire, or the gross opacous Exha|lations of a thick and obscure Smoak) and cry out, like
very Devils, at their Sense and Feeling of this Dissolution, which in real Deed I must averr and
affirm is devil|ishly painful, smarting and dolorous.

When thou seest the impetuous Shock of two Armies, and vehement Violence of the Push in
their horrid Encounter with one another; dost thou think, Balockasso, that so horrible a noise as
is heard there proceedeth from the Voice and Shouts of Men? The dashing and joulting of
Har|nish? The clattering and clashing of Ar|mies? The hacking and slashing of Bat|tle-Axes? The
justling and crashing of Pikes? The bustling and breaking of Lances? The Clamour and Skrieks
of the Wounded? The sound and din of Drums? The Clangour and Shrilness of Trumpets? The
neighing and rushing in of Horses? with the fearful Claps and thundering of all sorts of Guns,
from the Double Ca|non 193 to the Pocket Pistol inclusively? I cannot, Goodly, deny, but that in
these various things which I have rehearsed, there may be somewhat occasionative of the huge
Yell and Tintamarre of the two engaged Bodies.

But the most fearful and tumultuous Coil and Stir, the terriblest and most boisterous Garboil and
Hurry, the chiefest rustling Black Santus of all, and most prin|cipal Hurly Burly, springeth from
the grievously plangorous howling and low|ing of Devils, who Pell-mell, in a hand-over-head
Confusion, waiting for the poor Souls of the maimed and hurt Sol|diery, receive unawares some
Stroaks with Swords, and so by those means suffering a Solution of, and Division in the
Continui|ty of their Aerial and Invisible Substances: As if some Lackey, snatching at the Lard-
slices, stuck in a piece of Roast-meat on the Spit, should get from Mr. Greazyfist a good rap on
the Knuckles with a Cudgel, they cry out and shout like Devils. Even as Mars did, when he was
hurt by Diome|des at the Siege of Troy, who (as Homer te|stifieth of him) did then raise his
Voice more horrifically loud, and sonoriferously high, than ten thousand Men together would
have been able to do. What ma|keth all this for our present purpose? I 194 have been speaking
here of well-furbished Armour and bright shining Swords. But so is it not (Friar Ihon) with thy
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Weapon; for by a long discontinuance of Work, cessation from Labour, desisting from making it
officiate, and putting it into that practice wherein it had been former|ly accustomed; and in a
word, for want of occupation, it is, upon my Faith, be|come more rusty than the Key-hole of an
old Poudering-Tub. Therefore it is expedient that you do one of these two, either furbish your
Weapon bravely, and as it ought to be, or otherwise have a care that in the rusty case it is in, you
do not presume to return to the House of Rami|nagrobis. For my part, I vow I will not go thither,
the Devil take me if I go.

CHAP. XXIV. How Panurge consulteth with Epi|stemon.

HAving left the Town of Villomere, as they were upon their return towards Pant[...]gruel,
Panurge in addressing his Dis|course 195 to Epistemon, spoke thus: My most ancient Friend and
Gossip, thou seest the perplexity of my Thoughts, and know|est many Remedies for the removal
there|of; art thou not able to help and succour me? Epistemon thereupon taking the Speech in
hand, represented unto Panurge, how the open Voice and common Fame of the whole Country
did run upon no other Discourse, but the derision and mockery of his new Disguise; wherefore
his Counsel unto him was that he would in the first place be pleased to make use of a little
Hellebore, for the purging of his Brain of that peccant [...]umour, which thro' that extravagant and
fantastick Mummery of his had furnished the People with a too just occasion of flouting and
gibbing, jeering and scoffing him; and that next he would resume his ordinary Fashion of
Accoutrement, and go apparelled as he was wont to do. I am (quoth Panurge) my dear Gossip
Epistemon, of a mind and resolution to Marry, but am afraid of being a Cuckold, and to be
unfortunate in my Wedlock: For this cause have I made a Vow to young St. Francis, (who at
Plessiletours is much reverenced of all Women, earnestly cried unto by them, and with great
Devotion; for he was the first Founder of the Confraternity of good 196 Men, whom they
naturally covet, affect and long for) to wear Spectacles in my Cap, and to carry no Codpiece in
my Breeches, un|til the present Inquietude and Perturbati|on of my Spirits be fully setled.

Truly (quoth Epistemon) that is a pretty jolly Vow, of Thirteen to a Dozen: It is a shame to you,
and I wonder much at it, that you do not return unto your self, and recall your Senses from this
their wild swarving and straying abroad to that rest and stilness which becomes a vertuous Man.
This whimsical Conceit of yours brings me to the remembrance of a so|lemn Promise made by
the Shaghaired Ar|gives, who having in their Controversie against the Lacedemonians for the
Terreto|ry of Tyree lost the Battle, which they ho|ped should have decided it for their Ad|vantage,
vowed to carry never any hair on their Heads, till preallably they had recovered the loss of both
their Honour and Lands: As likewise to the memory of the Vow of a pleasant Spaniard called
Michel Doris, who vowed to carry in his Hat a piece of the Shin of his Leg, till he should be
revenged of him who had struck it off. Yet do not I know which of these two deserveth most to
wear a Green and Yellow Hood with a Hares Ears tied to it, either the aforesaid vain-glorious
Champi|on, 197 or that Euguerrant, who having forgot the art and manner of writing Histories,
set down by the Samosatian Philosopher, maketh a most tediously long Narrative and Relation
thereof: For at the first reading of such a profuse Discourse, one would think it had been
broached for the introducing of a Story of great impor|tance and moment concerning the waging
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of some formidable War, or the notable change and mutation of potent States and Kingdoms; but
in conclusion, the World laugheth at the capricious Cham|pion, at the English-man who had
affront|ed him, as also at their Scribler Euguerrant, more driveling at the Mouth than a Mu|stard-
pot. The Jest and Scorn thereof is not unlike to that of the Mountain of Ho|race, which by the
Poet was made to cry out and lament most enormously as a Wo|man in the Pangs and Labour of
Child|birth, at which deplorable and exorbitant Cries and Lamentations the whole
Neigh|bourhood being assembled in expectation to see some marvellous monstrous Produ|ction,
could at last perceive no other but the paultry ridiculous Mouse.

Your mousing (quoth Panurge) will not make me leave my musing why Folks should be so
frumpishly disposed, seeing I am certainly perswaded that some flout, 198 who merit to be
flouted at; yet as my Vow imports so will I do. It is now a long time since, by Iupiter Philos, we
did swear Faith and Amity to one another: Give me your Advice, and tell me your O|pinion
freely, Should I marry or no? Tru|ly (quoth Epistemon) the case is hazardous, and the danger so
eminently apparent, that I find my self too weak and insufficient to give you a punctual and
peremptory re|solution therein; and if ever it was true, the Iudgment is difficult in matters of the
Medicinal Art, what was said by Hippocra|tes of Lango, it is certainly so in this case. True it is,
that in my Brain there are some rowling Fancies, by means whereof some|what may be pitched
upon of a seeming efficacy to the disintangling your mind of those dubious Apprehensions
wherewith it is perplexed; but they do not tho|roughly satisfie me. Some of the Plato|nick Sect
affirm, that whosoever is able to see his proper Genius, may know his own Destiny. I understand
not their Do|ctrine; nor do I think that you adhere to them; there is a palpable Abuse. I have seen
the experience of it in a very cu|rious Gentleman of the Country of E|strangowre. This is one of
the Points. There is yet another not much better. If there were any Authority now in the 199
Oracles of Iupiter Ammon; of Apollo in Lebadia, Delphos, Delos, Cyrra, Patara, Tegires,
Preneste, Lycia, Colophon, or in the Castalian Fountain; near Antiochia in Sy|ria; between the
Branchidians; of Bacchus, in Dodona; of Mercure in Phares; near Parras; of Apis, in Egypt; of
Serapis in Canorie; of Faunus in Menalia, and Albu|nes near Tivoly; of Tiresias in Orchomenie;
of Mosus in Silicia; of Orpheus in Lisbos; and of Trophonius in Lucadia. I would in that case
advise you, and possibly not, to go thither for their Judgment concerning the Design and
Enterprize you have in hand. But you know that they are all of them become as dumb as so many
Fishes, since the Advent of that Saviour King, whose coming to this World hath made all Oracles
and Prophesies to cease; as the approach of the Suns radiant Beams expelleth Goblins, Bugbears,
Hobthrushes, Broams, Schriech-Owl-Mates, Night-walking Spirits, and Tenebrions. These now
are gone; but although they were as yet in continuance, and in the same Pow|er, Rule and
Request that formerly they were, yet would not I counsel you to be too credulous in putting any
Trust in their Responses: Too many Folks have been deceived thereby. It stands further|more
upon Record, how Agrippina did 200 charge the fair Lollia with the Crime of having interrogated
the Oracle of Apollo Clarius, to understand if she should be at any time married to the Emperor
Clau|dius; for which Cause she was first ba|nished, and thereafter put to a shameful and
ignominious Death.

But (saith Panurge) let us do better; the Ogygian Islands are not far distant from the Haven of
Sammalo: Let us, after that we shall have spoken to our King, make a Voyage thither. In one of
these four Isles, to wit, that which hath its primest Aspect towards the Sun setting, it is reported,
(and I have read in good Antick and Au|thentick Authors) that there reside many Soothsayers,
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Fortune-tellers, Vaticinators, Prophets, and Diviners of things to come; that Saturn inhabiteth
that place, bound with fair Chains of Gold, and within the Concavity of a Golden Rock, being
nou|rished with Divine Ambrosie and Nectar, which are daily in great store and abun|dance
transmitted to him from the Hea|vens, by I do not well know what kind of Fowls (it may be that
they are the same Ravens, which in the Deserts are said to have fed St. Paul, the first Her|mit) he
very clearly foretelleth unto every one, who is desirous to be certified of the condition of his Lot,
what his Destiny 201 will be, and what future Chance the Fates have ordained for him: for the
Parques, or Weerd Sisters do not twist, spin, or draw out a Thread; nor yet doth Iupiter per|pend,
project, or deliberate any thing, which the good old Coelestial Father knoweth not to the full,
even whilst he is a sleep: This will be a very summary Abbreviation of our Labour, if we but
hearken unto him a little upon the seri|ous debate and canvassing of this my per|plexity. That is
(answered Epistemon) a Gullery too evident, a plain Abuse· and Fib too fabulous. I will not go,
not I, I will not go.

CHAP. XXV. How Panurge consulteth with Her Trippa.

NEvertheless, (quoth Epistemon, con|tinuing his Discourse) I will tell you what you may do, if
you will believe me, before we return to our King: Hard by here, in the Brown-wheat Island,
dwelleth Her Trippa; you know how by the Arts 202 of Astrology, Geomancy, Chiromancy,
Metopomancy, and others of a like stuff and nature, he foretelleth all things to come: Let us talk
a little, and confer with him about your Business. Of that (answered Panurge) I know nothing:
but of this much concerning him I am assu|red, that one day, and that not long since, whilst he
was prating to the Great King, of Coelestial, Sublime, and Transcendent Things, the Lackqueys
and Footboys of the Court, upon the upper Steps of Stairs between two Doors, jumbled, one after
another, as often as they listed, his Wife; who is passable fair, and a pretty snug Hus|sie. Thus he
who seemed very clearly to see all Heavenly and Terrestrial Things without Spectacles, who
discoursed bold|ly of Adventures past, with great confi|dence opened up present Cases and
Acci|dents, and stoutly professed the presaging of all future Events and Contingencies, and was
not able with all the Skill and Cunning that he had, to perceive the Bumbasting of his Wife,
whom he repu|ted to be very chast; and hath not till this hour, got Notice of any thing to the
con|trary. Yet let us go to him, seeing you will have it so: for surely we can never learn too
much. They on the very next ensuing Day, came to Her Trippa's Lodg|ing. 203 Panurge, by way
of Donative, pre|sented him with a long Gown lined all thorough with Wolves-skins, with a short
Sword mounted with a gilded Hilt, and covered with a Velvet Scabbard, and with fifty good
single Angels: then in a familiar and friendly way did he ask of him his Opinion touching the
Affair. At the very first Her Trippa looking on him very wist|ly in the face, said unto him: Thou
hast the Metoposcopy, and Physiognomy of a Cuckold; I say, of a notorious and infa|mous
Cuckold. With this casting an eye upon Panurge's right Hand in all the parts thereof, he said,
This rugged Draught which I see here, just under the Mount of Iove, was never yet but in the
Hand of a Cuckold. Afterwards, he with a White Lead Pen, swiftly, and hastily drew a certain
Number of diverse kinds of Points, which by Rules of Geomancy he coupled and joyned
together, then said, Truth it self is not truer, then that it is certain, thou wilt be a Cuckold, a little
after thy Marriage. That being done, he asked of Panurge the Horoscope of his Nativity; which
 315

was no sooner by Panurge tendred unto him, then that, erecting a Figure, he very promptly and
speedily formed and fashion'd a compleat Fabrick of the Houses of Heaven, in all their parts,
whereof when 204 he had considered the Situation and the Aspects in their Triplicities, he
fetched a deep sigh, and said: I have clearly enough already discovered unto you the Fate of your
Cuckoldry, which is unavoidable, you cannot escape it; and here have I got of new a further
assurance thereof, so that I may now hardily pronounce, and affirm without any scruple or
hesitation at all, that thou wilt be a Cuckold; that fur|thermore, thou wilt be beaten by thine own
Wife, and that she will purloyn, filch, and steal of thy Goods from thee; for I find the Seventh
House, in all its Aspects, of a malignant Influence, and every one of the Planets threatning thee
with Disgrace, according as they stand seated towards one another, in relation to the Horned
Signs of Aries, Taurus, and Capricorn: In the Fourth House I find Iupiter in a Deca|dence, as
also in a Tetragonal Aspect to Saturn, associated with Mercury: thou wilt be soundly pepper'd,
my good honest Fellow, I warrant thee. I will be: (an|swered Panurge) a Plague rot thee, thou old
Fool, and doating Sot, how graceless and unpleasant thou art.

When all Cuckolds shall be at a Gene|ral Rendezvous, thou shouldst be their Standard-bearer.
But whence comes this Ciron-worm betwixt these two Fingers? 205 This Panurge said, putting
the Fore-finger of his Left-hand, betwixt the Fore and Mid-finger of the Right, which he thrust
out to|wards Her Trippa, holding them open af|ter the manner of two Horns, and shutting into a
Fist his Thumb, with the other Fingers. Then in turning to Epistemon, he said, Lo here the true
Ollus of Martial, who addicted and devoted himself wholly to the observing the Miseries,
Crosses, and Calamities of others, whilst his own Wife, in the Interim, did keep an open Bawdy-
house.

This Varlet is poorer then ever was Irus, and yet he is a proud, vaunting, ar|rogant, self-
conceited, over-weening, and more insupportable then Seventeen Devils; in one word, [...], which
term of old was applied to the like beggarly strut|ting Coxcombs.

Come, let us leave this Madpash Bed|lam, this hair-brain'd Fop, and give him leave to rave and
dose his Belly-full, with his private and intimately acquainted Devils; who, if they were not the
very worst of all the infernal Fiends, would ne|ver have daigned to serve such a knavish, barking
Cur as this is. He hath not learnt the first Precept of Philosophy, which is, Know thy Self: for
whilst he braggeth and boasteth, that he can discern the least 206 Mote in the Eye of another, he
is not a|ble to see the huge Block that puts out the sight of both his Eyes. This is such ano|ther
Polypragmon, as is by Plutarch descri|bed: He is of the nature of the Lamian Witches, who in
forreign Places, in the Houses of Strangers, in Publick, and a|mongst the common People, had a
sharper and more piercing Inspection into their Affairs then any Lync; but at home in their own
proper Dwelling-Mansions, were blinder then Mold-Warps, and saw nothing at all: for their
Custom was at their return from abroad, when they were by themselves in private to take their
Eyes out of their Head, from whence they were as easily removable as a Pair of Spe|ctacles from
their Nose, and to lay them up into a wooden Slipper, which for that purpose did hang behind the
Door of their Lodging.

Panurge had no sooner done speaking, when Her Trippa took into his Hand a Ta|marisk Branch.
In this (quoth Epistemon) he doth very well, right, and like an Ar|tist, for Nicander calleth it the
Divinatory Tree. Have you a mind (quoth Her Trippa) to have the truth of the matter yet more
 316

fully and amply disclosed unto you by Pyromancy, by Aeromancy, (whereof Ari|stophanes in his
Clouds maketh great esti|mation) 207 by Hydromancy, by Leconomancy, of old in prime request
amongst the As|syrians, and throughly tried by Hermolaus Barbarus: Come hither, and I will
shew thee in this Platter-full of fair Fountain-water, thy future Wife, lechering, and
sercroupierising it with two swaggering Ruffians, one after another. Yea, but have a special care
(quoth Panurge) when thou comest to put thy Nose within mine Arse, that thou forget not to pull
off thy Spectacles. Her Trippa going on in his Discourse, said by Catoptromancy, likewise held
in such account by the Emperor Di|dius Iulianus, that by means thereof he ever and anon
foresaw all that which at any time did happen or befal unto him: Thou shalt not need to put on
thy Spe|ctacles, for in a Mirror thou wilt see her as clearly and manifestly. Nebrundiated, and
Billibodring-it, as if I should shew it in the Fountain of the Temple of Minerva near Parras. By
Coscinomancy, most reli|giously observed of old, amidst the Cere|monies of the ancient Romans.
Let us have a Sieve and Shiers, and thou shalt see Devils. By Alphitomancy, cried up by
Theocritus in his Pharmeketria. By Alento|mancy, mixing the Flower of Wheat with Oatmeal,
By Astragalomancy, whereof I have the Plots and Models all at hand 208 ready for the purpose.
By Tyromancy, whereof we make some Proof in a great Brehemont Cheese, which I here keep
by me: By Giromancy, if thou shouldst turn round Circles, thou mightest assure thy self from
me, that they would fall al|ways on the wrong side: By Sternoman|cy, which maketh nothing for
thy Ad|vantage, for thou hast an ill proportion'd Stomach: By Libanomancy, for the which we
shall need but a little Frankin|cense: By Gastromancy, which kind of ventral Fatiloquency was
for a long time together used in Ferrara by Lady Giacoma Rodogina, the Eugastrimythian
Prophetess: By Cephalomancy, often practised a|mongst the High Germans in their boiling of an
Asses Head upon burning Coals: By Ceromancy, where by the means of Wax dissolved into
Water, thou shalt see the Figure, Pourtrait and lively Repre|sentation of thy future Wife, and of
her Fredin Fredaliatory Belly thumping Blades: By Capnomancy; O the gal|lantest and most
excellent of all Se|crets! By Axionomancy, we want only a Hatchet and a Jeat-stone to be laid
together upon a quick Fire of hot Em|bers. O how bravely Homer was versed in the practice
hereof towards Penelope's Suiters! By Onymancy; for that we have 209 Oyl and Wax: By
Tephromancy, thou wilt see the Ashes thus aloft dispersed, ex|hibiting thy Wife in a fine Posture:
By Botonomancy, for the nonce I have some few Leaves in reserve: By Sicomancy; O Divine
Art in Fig-tree Leaves! By Icthiomancy, in ancient times so celebra|ted, and put in use by
Tiresias and Polyda|mas, with the like certainty of event as was tried of old at the Dina-ditch
within that Grove consecrated to Apollo, which is in the Territory of the Lycians: By
Choiramancy. Let us have a great ma|ny Hogs, and thou shalt have the Bladder of one of them:
By Cheromomancy, as the Bean is found in the Cake at the Epi|phany Vigil: By
Anthropomancy, pra|ctised by the Roman Emperor Heliagobu|lus; it is somewhat irksom, but
thou wilt endure it well enough, seeing thou art destinated to be a Cuckold: By a Sybilline
Stichomancy: By Onomatomancy: How do they call thee! Chaw, turd; (quoth Panurge) or yet by
Alectryomancy. If I should here with a Compass draw a round, and in looking upon thee, and
consider|ing thy Lot, divide the Circumference thereof into four and twenty equal parts, then
form a several Letter of the Alpha|bet upon every one of them; and lastly, posit a Barly Corn or
two upon each of 201 these so disposed Letters, I durst promise upon my Faith and Honesty, that
if a young Virgin Cock be permitted to range alongst and athwart them, he should on|ly eat the
Grains which are set and placed upon these Letters, A. C.u.c.k.o.l.d. T.h.o.u. s.h.a.l.t. b.e. And
that as fatidically, as un|der the Emperor Valence, most perplex|edly desirous to know the Name
of him, who should be his Successor to the Em|pire, the Cock Vaticinating and Alectry|omantick,
 317

are up the Pickles that were po|sited on the Letters T.h.e.o.d. Or for the more certainty, will you
have a trial of your Fortune by the Art of Aruspiciny? by Augury? or by Extispicine? By
Tur|dispicine, quoth Panurge; or yet by the Mystery of Negromancy? I will, if you please,
suddenly set up again, and revive some one lately deceased, as Apollonius of Tyan did to
Achilles, and the Pythoniss in the Presence of Saul; which Body so raised up and requickned,
will tell us the Sum of all you shall require of him; no more nor less than at the Invocation of
Erictho, a certain defunct Person foretold to Pompy the whole progress and issue of the fatal
Battle fought in the Pharsalian Fields? Or if you be afraid of the Dead, as commonly all
Cuckolds are, I will make use of the Faculty of Sciomancy. 211 Go, get thee gone (quoth
Panurge) thou Frantick Ass, to the Devil, and be bug|gered, filthy Bordachio that thou art, by
some Albanian, for a Steeple-crown'd Hat. Why the Devil didst not thou counsel me as well to
hold an Emerald, or the Stone of a Hyena under my Tongue? Or to furnish and provide my self
with Tongues of Whoops, and Hearts of Green Frogs? Or to eat of the Liver and Milt of some
Dragon? To the end that by those means I might at the chanting and chirping of Swans and other
Fowls, understand the Substance of my future Lot and Destiny, as did of old the Ara|bians in the
Country of Mesopotamia? Fifteen brace of Devils seize upon the Bo|dy and Soul of this horned,
Renegado, miscreant Cuckold, the Inchanter, Witch, and Sorcerer of Antichrist to all the De|vils
of Hell.

Let us return towards our King: I am sure he will not be well pleased with us, if he once come to
get notice that we have been in the Kennel of this muffled Devil. I repent my being come hither.
I would willingly dispence with a Hun|dred Nobles, and Fourteen Yeomans, on condition that he
who not long since did blow in the bottom of my Breeches, should instantly with his squirting
Spittle 212 inluminate his Mustaches. O Lord God now! how the Villain hath besmoaked me
with Vexation and Anger, with Charms and Witchcraft, and with a ter|rible Coyl and Stir of
Infernal and Tar|tarian Devils! The Devil take him: say Amen; and let us go drink. I shall not
have any Appetite for my Victuals (how good Cheer soever I make) these two days to come,
hardly these four.

CHAP. XXVI. How Panurge consulteth with Friar Ihon of the Funnels.

PAnurge was indeed very much troubled in mind, and disquieted at the words of Her Trippa, and
therefore as she passed by the little Village of Hugmes, after he had made his Address to Friar
Ihon, in pecking at, rubbing and scratching his own left Ear, he said unto him, Keep me a little
jovial and merry, my dear and sweet Bully, for I find my Brains altoge|ther metagrabolized and
confounded, and my Spirits in a most dunsical puzzle at 213 the bitter talk of this Devillish,
Hellish, Damned Fool: Hearken, my dainty Cod.

 Mellow C.
 Lead-coloured C.
 Knurled C.
 Suborned C.
 Desired C.
 318

 Stuffed C.
 Speckled C.
 Finely metall'd C.
 Arabian-like C.
 Trussed up Grey|hound-like C.
 Mounted C.
 Sleeked C.
 Diapred C.
 Spotted C.
 Master C.
 Seeded C.
 Lusty C.
 Jupped C.
 Milked C.
 Calfeted C.
 Raised C.
 Odd C.
 Steeled C.
 Stale C.
 Orange-tawny C.
 Imbroidered C.
 Glazed C.
 Interlarded C.
 Burger-like C.
 Impoudred C.
 Ebenized C.
 Brasiliated C.
 Organized C.
 Passable.
 Trunkified C.
 Furious C.
 Packed C.
 Hooded C.
 Varnished C.
 Renowned C.
 Matted C.
 Genetive C.
 Gigantal C.
 Oval C.
 Claustral C.
 Viril C.
 Stayed C.
 Massive C.
 Manual C.
 Absolute C.
 Well-set C.
 319

 Gemel C.
 Turkish C.
 214 Burning C.
 Thwacking C.
 Urgent C.
 Handsome C.
 Prompt C.
 Fortunate C.
 Boxewood C.
 Latten C.
 Unbridled C.
 Hooked C.
 Researched C.
 Encompassed C.
 Strouting out C.
 Jolly C.
 Lively C.
 Gerundive C.
 Franked C.
 Polished C.
 Poudred Beef C.
 Positive C.
 Spared C.
 Bold C.
 Lascivious C.
 Gluttonous C.
 Resolute C.
 Cabbage-like C.
 Courteous C.
 Fertil C.
 Whizzing C.
 Neat C.
 Common C.
 Brisk C.
 Quick C.
 Barelike C.
 Partitional C.
 Patronymick C.
 Cockney C.
 Auromercuriated C.
 Robust C.
 Appetizing C.
 Succourable C.
 Redoutable C.
 Affable C.
 Memorable C.
 320

 Palpable C.
 Barbable C.
 Tragical C.
 Transpontine C.
 Digestive C.
 Active C.
 Vital C.
 Magistral C.
 Monachal C.
 Subtil C.
 Hammering C.
 Clashing C.
 Tingling C.
 Usual C.
 Exquisite C.
 Trim C.
 Succulent C.
 Factious C.
 215 Clammy C.
 Fat C.
 High-prised C.
 Requisite C.
 Laycod C.
 Hand-filling C.
 Insuperable C.
 Agreeable C.
 Formidable C.
 Profitable C.
 Notable C.
 Musculous C.
 Subsidiary C.
 Satyrick C.
 Repercussive C.
 Convulsive C.
 Restorative C.
 Masculinating C.
 Incarnative C.
 Sigillative C.
 Sallying C.
 Plump C.
 Thundering C.
 Lechering C.
 Fulminating C.
 Sparkling C.
 Ramming C.
 Lusty C.
 321

 Houshold C.
 Pretty C.
 Astrolabian C.
 Algebraical C.
 Venust C.
 Aromatizing C.
 Trixy C.
 Paillard C.
 Gaillard C.
 Broaching C.
 Adle C.
 Syndicated C.
 Boulting C.
 Snorting C.
 Pilfring C.
 Shaking C.
 Bobbing C.
 Chiveted C.
 Fumbling C.
 Topsiturvying C.
 Raging C.
 Piled up C.
 Filled up C.
 Manly C.
 Idle C.
 Membrous C.
 Strong C.
 Twin C.
 Belabouring C.
 Gentil C.
 Stirring C.
 Confident C.
 216 Nimble C.
 Roundheaded C.
 Figging C.
 Helpful C.
 Spruce C.
 Plucking C.
 Ramage C.
 Fine C.
 Fierce C.
 Brawny C.
 Compt C.
 Repaired C.
 Soft C.
 Wild C.
 322

 Renewed C.
 Quaint C.
 Starting C.
 Fleshy C.
 Auxiliary C.
 New vamped C.
 Improved C.
 Malling C.
 Sounding C.
 Batled C.
 Burly C.
 Seditious C.
 Wardian C.
 Protective C.
 Twinkling C.
 Able C.
 Algoristical C.
 Odoriferous C.
 Pranked C.
 Jocund C.
 Routing C.
 Purloyning C.
 Frolick C.
 Wagging C.
 Ruffling C.
 Jumbling C.
 Rumbling C.
 Thumping C.
 Bumping C.
 C[...]ingeling C.
 Berumpling C.
 Jogging C.
 Nobbing C.
 Touzing C.
 Tumbling C.
 Fambling C.
 Overturning C.
 Shooting C.
 Culeting C.
 Jagged C.
 Pinked C.
 Arsiversing C.
 Polished C.
 Slasht C.
 Hamed C.
 Leisurely C.
 323

 Cut C.
 Smooth C.
 217 Depending C.
 Independent C.
 Lingring C.
 Rapping C.
 Reverend C.
 Nodding C.
 Disseminating C.
 Affecting C.
 Affected C.
 Grapled C.
 Stuffed C.
 Well-fed C.
 Flourished C.
 Fallow C.
 Sudden C.
 Grasp-full C.
 Swillpow C.
 Crushing C.
 Creaking C.
 Dilting C.
 Ready C.
 Vigorous C.
 Scoulking C.
 Superlative C.
 Clashing C.
 Wagging C.
 Scriplike C.
 Encremaster'd C.
 Bouncing C.
 Levelling C.
 Fly-flap C.
 Perinae tegminal C.
 Squat-couching C.
 Short-hung C.
 The hypogastrian C.
 Witness bearing C.
 Testigerous C.
 Instrumental C.

My Harcabuzing Cod, and Buttock-stirring Ballock, Fryar Ihon, my Friend: I do carry a singular
respect unto thee, and honour thee with all my Heart, thy Counsel I hold for a choice and delicate
Morsel, therefore have I reserved it for the last Bit. Give me thy Advice freely, I beseech thee;
Should I marry, or no? Fryar Ihon very merrily, and with a sprightly chearfulness made this
Answer to him: Marry, in the Devil's Name, 218 Why not? What the Devil else shouldst thou do,
 324

but marry? Take thee a Wife, and furbish her Harnish to some tune: Swinge her Skin-coat, as if
thou wert beat|ing on Stock-fish; and let the repercussi|on of thy Clapper from her resounding
Metal, make a Noise, as if a double Peal of Chiming-Bells were hung at the Cre|masters of thy
Ballocks. As I say Marry, so do I understand, that thou shouldst fall to work as speedily as may
be: yea, my meaning is, that thou oughtest to be so quick and forward therein, as on this same
very day, before Sun-set, to cause, proclaim thy Banes of Matrimony, and make provision of
Bedsteads. By the Blood of a Hog's-pudding, till when wouldst thou delay the acting of a
Hus|band's part? Dost thou not know, and is it not daily told unto thee, that the end of the World
approacheth? We are nearer it by three Poles, and half a Fathom, then we were two days ago.
The Antichrist is already born, at least it is so reported by many: the truth is, that hitherto the
ef|fects of his wrath have not reached further then to the scratching of his Nurse and
Governesses: his Nails are not sharp e|nough as yet, nor have his Claws attained to their full
growth; he is little.

219 Crescat; Nos qui vivimus, multiplicemur. It is written so, and it is holy stuff, I warrant you:
The truth whereof is like to last as long as a Sack of Corn may be had for a Penny, and a
Punction of pure Wine for Three-pence. Would thou be content to be found with thy Genitories
full in the Day of Judgment? Dum vene|ris judicari. Thou hast (quoth Panurge) a right, clear,
and neat Spirit, Fryar Ihon, my Metropolitan [...]od; thou speakst in very deed pertinently, and to
purpose: That belike was the reason which moved Leander of Abydos in Asia, whilst he was
swimming through the Hellespontick Sea, to make a Visit to his Sweetheart Hero of Se|stus in
Europe, to pray unto Neptune, and all the other Marine Gods, thus:

Now, whilst I go, have pity on me,

And at my back returning drown me.
He was loath, it seems, to die with his Cods over-gorged: He was to be com|mended, therefore
do I promise, that from henceforth no Malefactor shall by Justice be executed within my
Jurisdiction of Sal|migondinois, who shall not, for a day or two at least before, he be permitted to
culbut, and foraminate, Onocrotalwise, that there remain not in all his Vessels, to 220 write a
great Greek [...]; such a precious thing should not be foolishly cast away; he will perhaps
therewith beget a Male, and so depart the more contentedly out of this Life, that he shall have left
behind him one for one.

CHAP. XXVII. How Fryar Ihon merrily, and sportingly counselleth Panurge.

BY Saint Rigomet (quoth Fryar Ihon) I do advise thee to nothing, my dear Friend Panurge)
which I would not do my self, were I in thy place: only have a special care, and take good heed
thou soulder well together the Joynts of the double backed, and two bellied Beast, and fortifie thy
Nerves so strongly, that there be no discontinuance in the Knocks of the Venerian thwacking,
else thou art lost, poor Soul: for if there pass long intervals betwixt the Priapising Feats, and that
thou make an intermission of too large a time, that will befall thee, which betides the Nurses, if
they desist from giving suck to 221 Children, they lose their Milk; and if continually thou do not
hold thy Asper|sory Tool in exercise, and keep thy Men|tal going, thy Lacticinian Nectar will be
 325

gone, and it will serve thee only as a Pipe to piss out at, and thy Cods for a Wallet of lesser value
then a Beggars Scrip. This is a certain truth I tell thee, Friend, and doubt not of it; for my self
have seen the sad experiment thereof in many, who cannot now do what they would, because
before they did not what they might have done: Ex desuetudine amittuntur Privilegia: Non-usage
oftentimes destroys ones Right, say the learned Doctors of the Law: there|fore, my Billy,
entertain as well as possibly thou canst, that Hypogastrian, lower sort of Troglodytick People,
that their chief plea|sure may be placed in the case of sempiter|nal labouring. Give order that
henceforth they live not like adle Gentlemen, idly upon their Rents and Revenues, but that they
may work for their Livelyhoood, by breaking ground within the Paphian Tren|ches. Nay truly
(answered Panurge) Fryar Ihon, my left Ballock, I will believe thee, for thou dealest plain with
me, and fal|lest down-right square upon the business, without going about the Bush with
frivo|lous circumstances, and unnecessary re|servations. Thou with the splendour of 222 a
piercing Wit, hast dissipated all the lour|ing Clouds of anxious Apprehensions and Suspicions,
which did intimidate and ter|rifie me: therefore the Heavens be plea|sed to grant to thee, at all
She-conflicts, a stiff-standing Fortune. Well then, as thou hast said, so will I do, I will, in good
Faith, Marry; in that point there shall be no failing, I promise thee, and shall have always by me
pretty Girls clothed with the Name of my Wives Waiting-Maids, that lying under thy Wings,
thou mayest be Night-Protector of their Sister|hood.

Let this serve for the first part of the Sermon. Hearken (quoth Fryar Ihon) to the Oracle of the
Bells of Varenes; What say they? I hear and understand them (quoth Panurge) their Sound is by
my Thirst, more uprightly fatidical, then that of Iove's Great Kettles in Dodona. Heark|en; Take
thee a Wife, take thee a Wife, and marry, marry, marry: for if thou marry, thou shalt find good
therein, herein, here in a Wife thou shalt find good; so marry, marry. I will assure thee, that I
shall be married, all the Elements invite and prompt me to it: let this Word be to thee a Brazen
Wall, by diffidence not to be broken thorough. As for the Second part of this our Do|ctrine: Thou
seemest in some measure to 223 mistrust the readiness of my Paternity, in the practising of my
Placket-Racket with|in the Aphrodisian Tennis-Court at all times fitting, as if the stiff God of
Gardens were not favourable to me. I pray thee, favour me so much as to believe, that I still have
him at a beck, attending always my Com|mandments, docile, obedient, vigorous, and active in all
things, and every-where, and never stubborn or refractory to my will or pleasure.

I need no more, but to let go the Reins, and slacken the Leash, which is the Belly-point, and
when the Game is shewn un|to him, say, Hey, Iack, to thy Booty, he will not fail even then to
flesh himself up|on his Prey, and tuzle it to some purpose. Hereby you may perceive, although
my future Wife were as unsatiable and glutto|nous in her Voluptuousness, and the De|lights of
Venery, as ever was the Empress Messalina, or yet the Marchioness in Eng|land; and I desire
thee to give credit to it, that I lack not for what is requisite to over[...]oy the Stomach of her Lust,
but have wherewith aboundingly to please her.

I am not ignorant that Salomon said, who indeed of that matter speaketh Clerk-like, and
learnedly: as also how Aristotle after him declared for a truth, That for the greater part, the
Lechery of a Woman 224 is ravenous and unsatisfiable: neverthe|less, let such as are my Friends,
who read those passages, receive from me for a most real verity, that I for such a Gill, have a fit
Iack; and that, if Womens things can|not be satiated, I have an Instrument inde|fatigable; an
Implement as copious in the giving, as can in craving be their Vade Mecums. Do not here
 326

produce ancient Examples of the Paragons of Paillardise, and offer to match with my
Testiculatory A|bility, the Priapaean Prowess of the fabu|lous Fornicators, Hercules, Proculus,
Caesar, and Mahomet, who in his Alchoran doth vaunt, that in his Cods he had the vigour of
Threescore Bully Ruffians; but let no zealous Christian trust the Rogue, the filthy ribald Rascal is
a Lyar. Shall thou need to urge Authorities, or bring forth the Instance of the Indian Prince, of
whom Theophrastus Plinius, and Athenaeus testifie, that with the help of a certain Herb, he was
able, and had given frequent Experi|ments thereof, to toss his sinewy Piece of Generation, in the
Act of carnal Concu|piscence, above Threescore and ten times in the space of Four and twenty
hours. Of that I believe nothing, the number is sup|posititious, and too prodigally foisted in: Give
no Faith unto it, I beseech thee, but prithee trust me in this, and thy credulity 225 therein shall
not be wronged; for it is true, and Probatum est, that my Pionier of Nature, the sacred
Ithyphallian Champion, is of all stiff-intruding Blades the primest: Come hither my Ballockette,
and hearken, Didst thou ever see the Monk of Castres Cowl? when in any House it was laid
down, whether openly in the view of all, or covertly out of the sight of any, such was the
ineffable Vertue thereof for exci|tating and stirring up the People of both Sexes unto Lechery,
that the whole Inha|bitants and Indwellers, not only of that, but likeways of all the circumjacent
places thereto, within three Leagues around it, did suddenly enter into Rut, both Beasts and
Folks, Men and Women, even to the Dogs and Hogs, Rats and Cats.

I swear to thee, that many times hereto|fore I have perceived, and found in my Codpiece a certain
kind of Energy, or effi|cacious Vertue, much more irregular, and of a greater Anomaly, then what
I have related: I will not speak to thee either of House or Cottage, nor of Church or Market, but
only tell thee, that once at the Representation of the Passion, which was acted at Saint Mexents; I
had no soon|er entred within the Pit of the Theater, but that forthwith, by the vertue and oc|cult
property of it, on a sudden all that 226 were there, both Players and Spectators, did fall into such
an exorbitant Tempta|tion of Lust, that there was not Angel, Man, Devil, nor Deviless, upon the
place, who would not then have Bri|collitched it with all their Heart and Soul.

The Prompter forsook his Copy, he who played Michael's part, came down to rights, the Devils
issued out of Hell, and carried along with them most of the pret|ty little Girls that were there;
yea, Luci|fer got out of his Fetters; in a word: seeing the huge Disorder, I disparked my self forth
of that inclosed place, in imita|tion of Cato the Censor, who perceiving by reason of his
presence, the Floralian Festivals out of order, withdrew him|self.

227

CHAP. XXVIII. How Friar Ihon comforteth Panurge in the douhtful matter of Cuckoldry.

I Understand thee well enough, said Friar Ihon; but time makes all things plain. The most durable
Marbre or Por|phyr is subject to Old Age and Decay. Though for the present thou possibly be not
weary of the Exercise, yet is it like, I will hear thee confess a few years hence, that thy Cods
hang dangling downwards for want of a better Truss. I see thee waxing a little hoar-headed
already; thy Beard by the Distinctions of grey, white, tawny and black, hath to my thinking the
resemblance of a Map of the Terre|strial Globe, or Geographical Cart. Look attentively upon, and
 327

take Inspe|ction of what I shall show unto thee. Behold there Asia, here are Tygris and
Euphrates. Lo there Africk; here is the Mountain of the Moon, yonder thou mayst perceive the
Fenny Marsh of Ni|lus. On this side lieth Europe: Dost thou 228 not see the Abby of Tileme?
This little Tuft, which is altogether white, is the Hyperborean Hills. By the thirst of my Throple,
Friend, when Snow is on the Mountains, I say the Head and the Chin, there is not then any
considerable Heat to be expected in the Valleys and Low-Countries of the Codpiece. By the
Kibes of thy Heels (quoth Panurge) thou dost not understand the Topicks. When Snow is on the
tops of the Hills, Lightning, Thunder, Tempest, Whirlwinds, Storms, Hurricanes, and all the
Devils of Hell rage in the Valleys. Wouldst thou see the experience thereof, go to the Terri|tory
of the Swissers, and earnestly perpend with thy self there the Situation of the Lake of
Wendelberliok, about four Leagues distant from Berne, on the Syon-side of the Land. Thou
twittest me with my Grey Heirs, yet considerest not how I am of the Nature of Leeks, which with
a white Head carry a green, fresh, streight, and vigorous Tail.

The truth is nevertheless, (why should I deny it) that I now and then discern in my self some
indicative Signs of Old Age. Tell this, I prithee, to no body, but let it be kept very close and
secret be|twixt us two; for I find the Wine much sweeter now, more savoury to my taste, 229 and
unto my Palate of a better relish than formerly I was wont to do; and withal, besides mine
accustomed manner, I have a more dreadful Apprehension than I ever heretofore have had of
lighting on bad Wine. Note and observe that this doth argue and portend I know not what of the
West and Occident of my time, and signifieth that the South and Meridian of mine Age is past.
But what then? my Gentle Companion, that doth but beto|ken that I will hereafter drink so much
the more. That is not, the Devil hale it, the thing that I fear; nor is there where my Shoo pinches.
The thing that I doubt most, and have greatest reason to dread and suspect, is, that through some
long absence of our King Pantagruel (to whom I must needs bear Company, should he go to all
the Devils of Berathrum) my fu|ture Wife shall make me a Cuckold. This is, in truth, the long
and the short on't: For I am by all those whom I have spoke to menac'd and threatned with a
Horned Fortune; and all of them affirm, it is the Lot to which from Heaven I am pre|destinated.
Every one (answered Friar Ihon) that would be a Cuckold, is not one: If it be thy Fate to be
hereafter of the number of that Horned Cattle, then may I conclude with an Ergo, thy Wife 230
will be beautiful, and Ergo, thou wilt be kindly used by her: Likewise with this Ergo thou shalt
be blissed with the fruition of many Friends and Well-willers: And finally with this other Ergo
thou shalt be saved, and have a place in Paradise. These are Monachal Topicks and Maxims of
the Cloyster: Thou mayst take more liberty to sin: Thou shalt be more at ease than ever: There
will be nevertheless left for thee, nothing diminished, but thy Goods shall increase notably: And
if so be it was preordinated for thee, wouldst thou be so impious as not to acquiesce in thy
Destiny? Speak thou jaded Cod,

 Faded C.
 Mouldy C.
 Musty C.
 Paultery C.
 Senseless C.
 Foundred C.
 Distempred C.
 Berayed C.
 328

 Inveigled C.
 Dangling C.
 Stupid C.
 Seedless C.
 Soaked C.
 Lowting C.
 Discouraged C.
 Surfeited C.
 Peevish C.
 Translated C.
 Forlorn C.
 Unsavoury C.
 Worm-eaten C.
 Overtoiled C.
 Miserable C.
 Steeped C.
 Kneaded with cold Water C.
 Appealant C.
 Swagging C.
 Withered C.
 Broken reined C.
 231 Defective C.
 Crestfallen C.
 Felled C.
 Fleeted C.
 Cloyed C.
 Squeezed C.
 Resty C.
 Pounded C.
 Loose C.
 Coldish C.
 Peckled C.
 Churned C.
 Filiped C.
 Singlefied C.
 Begrimed C.
 Wrinkled C.
 Fainted C.
 Extenuated C.
 Grim C.
 Wasted C.
 Inflamed C.
 Unhinged C.
 Scurfie C.
 Stradling C.
 Putrified C.
 329

 Maimed C.
 Overlechered C.
 Druggely C.
 Mitified C.
 Goat-ridden C.
 Weakned C.
 Asse-ridden C.
 Puff-pasted C.
 St. Anthonified C.
 Untriped C.
 Blasted C.
 Cut off C.
 Beveraged C.
 Scarified C.
 Dasht C.
 Slasht C.
 Infeebled C.
 Whore-hunting C.
 Deteriorated C.
 Chil C.
 Scrupulous C.
 Crazed C.
 Tasteless C.
 Hacked C.
 Flaggy C.
 Scrubby C.
 Drained C.
 Haled C.
 Lolling C.
 Drenched C.
 Burst C.
 Stirred up C.
 Mitred C.
 Pedlingly furnished C.
 Rusty C.
 Exhausted C.
 232 Perplexed C.
 Unhelved C.
 Fizled C.
 Leaprous C.
 Bruised C.
 Spadonick C.
 Boughty C.
 Mealy C.
 Wrangling C.
 Gangreened C.
 330

 Crustrisen C.
 Ragged C.
 Quelled C.
 Bragodochio C.
 Beggarly C.
 Trepanned C.
 Bedusked C.
 Emasculated C.
 Corked C.
 Transparent C.
 Vile C.
 Antidated C.
 Chopped C.
 Pinked C.
 Cup-glassified C.
 Fruitless C.
 Riven C.
 Pursie C.
 Fusty C.
 Jadish C.
 Fistulous C.
 Languishing C.
 Maleficiated C.
 Hectick C.
 Worn out C.
 Ill-favoured C.
 Duncified C.
 Macerated C.
 Paralytick C.
 Degraded C.
 Benummed C.
 Bat-like C.
 Fart-shotten C.
 Sun-burnt C.
 Pacified C.
 Blunted C.
 Rankling tasted C.
 Rooted out C.
 Costive C.
 Hailed on C.
 Cuffed C.
 Buffeted C.
 Whirreted C.
 Robbed C.
 Neglected C.
 Lame C.
 331

 Confused C.
 Unsavoury C.
 Overthrown C.
 Boulted C.
 Trod under C.
 Desolate C.
 233 Declining C.
 Stinching C.
 Sorrowful C.
 Murthered C.
 Matachin-like C.
 Besotted C.
 Customerless C.
 Minced C.
 Exulcerated C.
 Patched C.
 Stupified C.
 Annihilated C.
 Spent C.
 Foiled C.
 Aguish C.
 Disfigured C.
 Disabled C.
 Forcedless C.
 Censured C.
 Cut C.
 Rifled C.
 Undone C.
 Corrected C.
 Slit C.
 Skittish C.
 Spungy C.
 Botched C.
 Dejected C.
 Jagged C.
 Pining C.
 Deformed C.
 Mischieved C.
 Cobled C.
 Imbased C.
 Ransacked C.
 Despised C.
 Mangy C.
 Abased C.
 Supine C.
 Mended C.
 332

 Dismayed C.
 Harsh C.
 Beaten C.
 Barred C.
 Abandoned C.
 Confounded C.
 Lowtish C.
 Born down C.
 Sparred C.
 Abashed C.
 Unseasonable C.
 Opprest C.
 Grated C.
 Falling away C.
 Smalcut C.
 Disordered C.
 Lattised C.
 Ruined C.
 Exasperated C.
 Rejected C.
 Belammed C.
 Fabricitant C.
 234 Perused C.
 Emasculated C.
 Roughly handled C.
 Examined C.
 Crakt C.
 Waiward C.
 Hagled C.
 Gleaning C.
 Ill-favoured C.
 Pulled C.
 Drooping C.
 Faint C.
 Parched C.
 Paultry C.
 Cankred C.
 Void C.
 Vexed C.
 Bestunk C.
 Crooked C.
 Brabling C.
 Rotten C.
 Anxious C.
 Clouted C.
 Tired C.
 333

 Proud C.
 Fractured C.
 Melancholy C.
 Coxcombly C.
 Base C.
 Bleaked C.
 Detested C.
 Diaphanous C.
 Unworthy C.
 Checked C.
 Mangled C.
 Turned over C.
 Harried C.
 Flawed C.
 Froward C.
 Ugly C.
 Drawn C.
 Riven C.
 Distasteful C.
 Hanging C.
 Broken C.
 Limber C.
 Effeminate C.
 Kindled C.
 Evacuated C.
 Grieved C.
 Carking C.
 Disorderly C.
 Empty C.
 Disquieted C.
 Besysted C.
 Confounded C.
 Hooked C.
 Diverous C.
 Wearied C.
 Sad C.
 Cross C.
 Vain-glorious C.
 235 Poor C.
 Brown C.
 Shrunkin C.
 Abhorred C.
 Troubled C.
 Scornful C.
 Dishonest C.
 Reproved C.
 334

 Cocketed C.
 Filthy C.
 Shred C.
 Chawned C.
 Short-winded C.
 Branchless C.
 Chapped C.
 Failing C.
 Deficient C.
 Lean C.
 Consumed C.
 Used C.
 Puzled C.
 Allayed C.
 Spoiled C.
 Clagged C.
 Palsey-strucken C.
 Amazed C.
 Bedunsed C.
 Extirpated C.
 Banged C.
 Stripped C.
 Hoary C.
 Winnowed C.
 Decayed C.
 Disastrous C.
 Unhandsom C.
 Stummed C.
 Barren C.
 Wretched C.
 Feeble C.
 Cast down C.
 Stopped C.
 Kept under C.
 Stubborn C.
 Ground C.
 Retchless C.
 Weather-beaten C.
 Flayed C.
 Bauld C.
 Tossed C.
 Flapping C.
 Cleft C.
 Meagre C.
 Dumpified C.
 Supprest C.
 335

 Hagged C.
 Jawped C.
 Havocked C.
 Astonished C.
 Dulled C.
 Slow C.
 Plucked up C.
 Constipated C.
 236 Blown C.
 Blockify'd C.
 Pommeled C.
 All-to-be mawl'd C.
 Fallen away C.
 Unlucky C.
 Steril C.
 Beshitten C.
 Appeased C.
 Caitive C.
 Woful C.
 Unseemly C.
 Heavy C.
 Weak C.
 Prostrated C.
 Uncomely C.
 Naughty C.
 Laid flat C.
 Suffocated C.
 Held down C.
 Barked C.
 Hairless C.
 Flamping C.
 Hooded C.
 Wormy C.
 Besysted C.
 Faulty C.
 Bemealed C.
 Mortified C.
 Scurvy C.
 Bescabbed C.
 Torn C.
 Subdued C.
 Sneaking C.
 Bare C.
 Swart C.
 Smutched C.
 Raised up C.
 336

 Chopped C.
 Flirted C.
 Blained C.
 Blotted C.
 Sunk in C.
 Gastly C.
 Unpointed C.
 Beblistered C.
 Wizened C.
 Begger-plated C.
 Douf C.
 Clarty C.
 Lumpish C.
 Abject C.
 Side C.
 Choaked up C.
 Backward C.
 Prolix C.
 Spotted C.
 Crumpled C.
 Frumpled C.
 State C.
 Corrupted C.
 Beflowred C.
 237 Amated C.
 Blackish C.
 Underlaid C.
 Loathing C.
 Ill-filled C.
 Bobbed C.
 Mated C.
 Tawny C.
 Whealed C.
 Besmeared C.
 Hollow C.
 Pantless C.
 Guizened C.
 Demiss C.
 Refractory C.
 Rensie C.
 Frowning C.
 Limping C.
 Raveled C.
 Rammish C.
 Gaunt C.
 Beskimmered C.
 337

 Scraggy C.
 Lank C.
 Swashring C.
 Moyling C.
 Swinking C.
 Harried C.
 Tugged C.
 Towed C.
 Misused C.
 Adamitical C.

Balockatso to the Devil, my dear Friend Panurge, seeing it is so decreed by the Gods, wouldst
thou invert the course of the Planets, and make them retrograde? Wouldst thou disorder all the
Coelestial Spheres? blame the Intelligences, blunt the Spindles, joynt the Wherves, slander the
Spinning Quills, reproach the Bob|bins, revile the Clew-bottoms, and final|ly ravel and untwist
all the Threads of both the warp and the waft of the weer'd Sister Parques? What a Pox to thy
Bones dost thou mean, stony Cod? thou wouldst if thou couldst, a great deal worse than 238 the
Gyants of old intended to have done· Come hither, Billicullion; Whether wouldst thou be Jealous
without cause, or be a Cuckold and know nothing of it? Neither the one nor the other (quoth
Pa|nurge) would I choose to be: But if I get an inkling of the matter, I will provide well enough,
or there shall not be one stick of Wood within Five hundred Leagues about me, whereof to make
a Cudgel. In good Faith (Fryar Ihon) I speak now seriously unto thee, I think it will be my best
not to marry: Hearken to what the Bells do tell me, now that we are nearer to them: Do not
Marry, Marry not, not, not, not, not; Marry, Marry not, not, not, not, not: If thou Marry, thou
wilt miscarry, carry, carry· thou'lt repent it, re|sent it, sent it: if thou Marry, thou a Cuc|kold, a
Cou-cou-Cuckoe, Cou-cou-Cuckold thou shalt be. By the worthy Wrath of God I begin to be
angry; this Campanilian Ora|cle fretteth me to the Guts, a March-Hare was never in such a Chaff
as I am. O how I am vexed! you Monks and Fryars of the Cowl-pated, and Hood-poll'd
Fra|ternity, have you no Remedy nor Salve against this Malady of Graffing Horns in Heads?
Hath Nature so abandoned Hu|mane-kind, and of her help left us so de|stitute, that married Men
cannot know 239 how to sail through the Seas of this mortal Life, and be safe from the
Whirlpools, Quicksands, Rocks, and Banks, that lie a|longst the Coast of Cornwall.

I will (said Fryar Ihon) shew thee a way, and teach thee an expedient, by means whereof thy
Wife shall never make thee a Cuckold without thy knowledge, and thine own consent. Do me the
favour, I pray thee, (quoth Panurge) my pretty soft downy Cod; now tell it, Billy, tell it, I
beseech thee. Take (quoth Fryar Ihon) Hans Carvel's Ring up|on thy Finger, who was the King
of Me|linda's chief Jeweller; besides that, this Hans Carvel had the Reputation of being very
skilful and expert in the Lapidary's Profession, he was a studious, learned, and ingenious Man, a
Scientifick Person, full of Knowledge, a great Philosopher, of a sound Judgment, of a prime Wit,
good Sence, clear Spirited, an honest Creature, Courteous, Charitable, Giver of Alms, and of a
Jovial Humour, a Boon Companion, and a Merry Blade, if ever there was any in the World: He
was somewhat Gorbellied, had a little Shake in his Head, and in ef|fect unwieldy of his Body; in
his Old Age he took to Wife the Bayliff of Concordat's Daughter, a young, fair, jolly, gallant,
spruce, frisk, brisk, neat, feat, smirk [...]ug, compt, quaint, gay, fine, trixy, tri[...], de|cent, 240
 338

proper, graceful, handsome, beauti|ful, comely; and kind, a little too much to her Neighbours and
Acquaintance.

Hereupon it fell out, after the expiring of a scantling of Weeks, that Master Car|vel became as
jealous as a Tygar, and en|tred into a very profound suspition, that his new-married Gixy did
keep a Buttock-stirring with others: to prevent which inconveniency, he did tell her many
tra|gical Stories of the total Ruine of several Kingdoms by Adultery; did read unto her the
Legend of chast Wives; then made some Lectures to her in the praise of the choice Vertue of
Pucidity, and did pre|sent her with a Book in Commendation of Conjugal Fidelity: wherein the
wic|kedness of all licentious Women was odi|ously detested; and withal, he gave her a Chain
enriched with pure Oriental Sa|phires. Notwithstanding all this, he found her always more and
more inclined to the reception of her Neighbour Copes-mates, that day by day his Jealousie
increased; in sequel whereof, one Night as he was lying by her, whilst in his Sleep the ram|bling
Fancies of the leacherous Deport|ments of his Wife, did take up the Celluls, of his Brain, he
dreamt that he encountred with the Devil, to whom he had disco|vered to the full the buzzing of
his Head, 241 and suspicion that his Wife did tread her Shooe awry; the Devil, he thought, in this
perplexity, did for his comfort, give him a Ring, and therewithal did kindly put it on his Middle-
finger, saying, Hans Carvel, I give thee this Ring, whilst thou carriest it upon that Finger, thy
Wife shall never carnally be known by any o|ther then thy self, without thy special knowledge
and consent. Grammercy (quoth Hans Carvel) my Lord Devil, I renounce Mahomet, if ever it
shall come off my Finger. The Devil vanished, as is his Custom, and then Hans Carvel full of
Joy awaking, found that his Middle-finger was as far as it could reach within the What-do-you-
call-it of his Wife. I did forget to tell thee, how his Wife, as soon as she had felt the Finger there,
said in re|coyling her Buttocks, Off, yes, nay, tut, pish, tush, aye, Lord, that is not the thing which
should be put up in that place. With this Hans Carvel thought that some pilferring Fellow was
about to take the Ring from him.

Is not this an Infallible and Sovereign Antidote? therefore, if thou wilt believe me, in imitation of
this Example, never fail to have continually the Ring of thy Wife's Commodity upon thy Finger.
When that was said, their Discourse and their Way ended.

242

CHAP. XXIX. How Pantagruel Convocated together a Theologian, Physitian, Lawyer, and
Philosopher, for extricating Panurge out of the perplexity wherein he was.

NO sooner were they come into the Royal Palace, but they, to the full, made Report unto
Pantagruel of the Suc|cess of their Expedition; they shew him the Response of Paminagrobis.
When Pan|tagruel had read it over and over again, the oftner he perused it, being the better
pleased therewith; he said, in addressing his Speech to Panurge, I have not as yet seen any
Answer framed to your Demand, which affordeth me more Contentment: for in this his succinct
Copy of Verses, he summarily, and briefly, yet fully enough expresseth, how he would have us
to un|derstand, that every one in the Project and Enterprize of Marriage, ought to be his own
Carver, sole Arbitrator of his proper Thoughts, and from himself alone take Counsel in the main
 339

and peremptory 243 closure of what his Determination should be, in either his assent to, or
dissent from it. Such always hath been my Opinion to you, and when at first you spoke there|of
to me, I truly told you this same very thing; but tacitly you scorned my Ad|vice, and would not
harbour it within your mind. I know for certain, and therefore may I with the greater confi|dence
utter my conception of it, that Phi|lauty, or Self love, is that which blinds your Judgment, and
deceiveth you.

Let us do otherways, and that is this: Whatever we are, or have, consisteth in Three Things: the
Soul, the Body, and the Goods: now for the preservation of these Three, there are Three sorts of
Learned Men ordained, each respectively to have care of that one which is re|commended to his
charge. Theologues are appointed for the Soul, Physitians for the Welfare of the Body, and
Law|yers for the Safety of our Goods: hence it is, that it is my Resolution to have on Sunday next
with me at Dinner, a Divine, a Physician, and a Lawyer, that with those Three assembled thus
together, we may in every Point and Particle, confer at large of your Perplexity. By Saint Picot
(an|swered Panurge) we never shall do any good that way: I see it already, and you 244 see your
self how the World is vilely abu|sed, as when with a Fox-tayl one claps a|nother's Breech, to
cajole him. We give our Souls to keep to the Theologues, who for the greater part are Hereticks:
Our Bodies we commit to the Physitians, who never themselves take any Physick: and then we
intrust our Goods to Lawyers, who never go to Law against one ano|ther. You speak like a
Courtier (quoth Pantagruel) but the first Point of your As|sertion is to be denied: for we daily see
how good Theologues make it their chief Business, their whole and sole Employ|ment, by their
Deeds, their Words, and Writings, to extirpate Errors and Here|sies out of the Hearts of Men; and
in their stead profoundly plant the true and lively Faith. The Second Point you spoke of I
commend: for whereas the Professors of the Art of Medicine, give so good order to the
Prophylactick, or Conservative part of their Faculty, in what concerneth their proper Healths,
that they stand in no need of making use of the other Branch, which is the Curative, or
Therapentick, by Medicaments. As for the Third, I grant it to be true: for Learned Advocates and
Counsellors at Law, are so much taken up with the Affairs of others in their Consul|tations,
Pleadings, and such-like Patroci|nations 245 of those who are their Clients, that they have no
leisure to attend any Controversies of their own. Therefore, on the next ensuing Sunday, let the
Divine be our godly Father Hippothadee, the Phy|sitian our honest Master Rondibilis, and the
Legist our good Friend Bridlegoose: nor will it be (to my thinking) amiss, that we enter into the
Pythagorick Field, and choose for an Assistant to the Three afore|named Doctors, our ancient
faithful Ac|quaintance, the Philosopher Trouillogan; especially seeing a perfect Philosopher,
such as is Trouiilogan, is able positively to resolve all whatsoever Doubts you can propose.
Carpalin, have you a care to have them here all Four on Sunday next at Din|ner, without fail.

I believe (quoth Epistemon) that through|out the whole Country, in all the Corners thereof, you
could not have pitched upon such other Four: which I speak not so much in regard of the most
excellent Qua|lifications and Accomplishments where|with all of them are endowed for the
re|spective Discharge and Management of each his own Vocation and Calling, (wherein without
all doubt or controver|sie, they are the Paragons of the Land, and surpass all others) as for that
Rondibilis is marrried now, who before was not: Hip|pothadee 246 was not before, nor is yet:
Bridle|goose was married once, but is not now: and Trouillogan is married now, who wed|ded
was to another Wife before. Sir, if it may stand with your good liking, I will ease Carpalin of
some parcel of his Labour, and invite Bridlegoose my self, with whom I of a long time have had
 340

a very intimate familiarity, and unto whom I am to speak on the behalf of a pretty hopeful Youth,
who now studieth at Tholouse, under the most learned, vertuous Doctor Boissonnet. Do what you
deem most expedient (quoth Pantagruel) and tell me, if my Recom|mendation can in any thing
be steadable for the promoval of the good of that Youth, or otherways serve for bettering of the
Di|gnity and Office of the worthy Boissonet, whom I do so love and respect, for one of the ablest
and most sufficient in his way, that any where are extant. Sir, I will use therein my best
Endeavours, and heartily bestir my self about it.

247

CHAP. XXX. How the Theologue, Hippothadee, giv+eth Counsel to Panurge in the mat|ter
and business of his Nuptial En|terprize.

THE Dinner on the subsequent Sun|day was no sooner made ready, than that the afore-named
invited Guests gave thereto their Appearance, all of them; Bridlegoose only excepted, who was
the Deputy-Governor of the Fonspeton. At the ushering in of the Second Service, Panurge
making a low Reverence, spake thus: Gentlemen, the Question I am to propound unto you shall
be uttered in very few Words; Should I marry or no? If my Doubt herein be not resolved by you,
I shall hold it altogether insolvable, as are the Insolubilia de Aliaco; for all of you are elected,
chosen, and culled out from a|mongst others, every one in his own Condition and Quality, like so
many picked Peas on a Carpet.

248 The Father Hippothada, in obedience to the bidding of Pantagruel, and with much Courtesie
to the Company, an|swered exceeding modestly, after this man|ner: My Friend, you are pleased
to ask Counsel of us; but first you must consult with your self. Do you find any trouble or
disquiet in your Body by the impor|tunate stings and pricklings of the Flesh? That I do (quoth
Panurge) in a hugely strong and almost irresistible mea|sure: Be not offended, I beseech you,
good Father, at the freedom of my Ex|pression. No truly, Friend, not I, (quoth Hippothadee)
there is no reason why I should be displeased therewith: But in this Carnal Strife and Debate of
yours, have you obtained from God the Gift and special Grace of Continency? In good Faith,
not, (quoth Panurge.) My Counsel to you in that case (my Friend) is, that you marry, (quoth
Hippothadee) for you should rather choose to marry once, than to burn still in Fires of
Con|cupiscence. Then Panurge, with a jovial Heart and a loud Voice, cried out, That is spoke
gallantly, without circumbiliva|ginating about and about, and never hit it in its centred Point.
Grammercy, my good Father. In truth I am resolved now to marry, and without fail I shall do 249
it quickly. I invite you to my Wedding; by the Body of a Hen, we shall make good Cheer, and be
as merry as Crickets: You shall wear the Bridegroom's Colours; and if we eat a Goose, my Wife
shall not rost for me. I will intreat you to lead up the first Dance of the Brides Maids, if it may
please you to do me so much Favour and Honour. There resteth yet a small Difficulty, a little
Scruple, yea, even less than nothing, whereof I humbly crave your Resolution; Shall I be a
Cuckold, Father, yea or no? By no means, (an|swered Hippothadee) will you be Cuc|kolded, if it
please God. O the Lord help us now, (quoth Panurge) whither are we driven to, good Folks? To
the Conditionals, which according to the Rules and Precepts of the Dialectick Faculty, admit of
all contradictions and impossi|bilities. If my Transalpine Mule had Wings, my Transalpine Mule
 341

would fly. If it please God I shall not be a Cockold, but I shall be a Cuckold if it please him.
Good God, if this were a condition which I knew how to prevent, my Hopes should be as high as
ever, nor would I despair: But you here send me to God's Privy Coun|cil, to the Closet of his
little Pleasures. You my French Countrymen, which is the way you take to go thither?

250 My honest Father, I believe it will be your best not to come to my Wedding: The clutter and
dingle dangle noise of Marriage Guests will but disturb you, and break the serious Fancies of
your Brain. You love Repose, with Solitude and Si|lence; I really believe you will not come. And
then you Dance but indifferently, and would be out of Countenance at the first Entry. I will send
you some good things to your Chamber, together with the Bride's Favour, and there you may
drink our Health, if it may stand with your good liking. My Friend (quoth Hippothadee) take my
Words in the Sence wherein I meaned them, and do not mis|interpret me. When I tell you, if it
please God, do I to you any wrong there|in? Is it an ill Expression? Is it a Blas|pheming Clause
or Reserve any way scan|dalous unto the World? Do not we there|by honour the Lord God
Almighty, Cre|ator, Pretector and Conserver of all things? Is not that a mean, whereby we do
acknowledge him to be the sole Giver of all whatsoever is good? Do not we in that manifest our
Faith, that we believe all things to depend upon his in|finite and incomprehensible Bounty? and
that without him nothing can be produ|ced, nor after its Production be of any 251 value, force, or
power, without the con|curring aid and favour of his assisting Grace? Is it not a canonical and
authen|tick Exception, worthy to be premised to all our Undertakings? Is it not expedient that
what we propose unto our selves, be still referred to what shall be disposed of by the Sacred Will
of God, unto which all things must acquiesce in the Heavens as well as on the Earth? Is not that
verily a sanctifying of his Holy Name? My Friend, you shall not be a Cuckold, if it please God,
nor shall we need to despair of the knowledge of his good Will and Pleasure herein, as if it were
such an ab|struse and mysteriously hidden Secret, that for the clear understanding thereof it were
necessary to consult with those of his Celestial Privy Council, or expresly make a Voyage unto
the Empyrean Cham|ber, where Order is given for the effe|ctuating of his most holy Pleasures.

The great God hath done us this good, that he hath declared and revealed them to us openly and
plainly, and described them in the Holy Bible. There will you find that you shall never be a
Cuckold, that is to say, your Wife shall never be a Strumpet, if you make choice of one of a
commendable Extraction, descended of honest Parents, and instructed in all 252 Piety and
Vertue: Such a one as hath not at any time hanted or frequented the Com|pany or Conversation of
those that are of corrupt and deprav'd Manners; one loving and fearing God, who taketh a
singular delight in drawing near to him by Faith, and the cordial observing of his Sacred
Commandments: And finally, one who standing in awe of the Divine Majesty, of the most High,
will be loath to offend him, and lose the favourable kindness of his Grace through any defect of
Faith, or transgression against the Ordinances of his Holy Law, wherein Adultery is most
rigorously forbidden, and a close Adhe|rence to her Husband alone most strictly and severely
enjoyned; yea, in such sort, that she is to cherish, serve and love him above any thing, next to
God, that me|riteth to be beloved. In the interim, for the better schooling of her in these
In|structions, and that the wholsom Do|ctrine of a Matrimonial Duty may take the deeper Root in
her Mind, you must needs carry your self so on your part, and your behaviour is to be such, that
you are to go before her in a good Example, by entertaining her unfeigned|ly with a Conjugal
Amity, by continu|ally approving your self in all your Words and Actions a faithful and discreet
Hus|band; 253 and by living not only at home, and privately with your own Houshold and
 342

Family, but in the face also of all Men, and open view of the World, devotely, vertuously and
chastly, as you would have her on her side to deport and demean her self towards you, as
becomes a Godly, Loyal and Respectful Wife, who maketh Conscience to keep inviolable the Tie
of a Matrimonial Oath.

For as that Looking-glass is not the best, which is most deck'd with Gold and Pre|cious Stones,
but that which representeth to the Eye the liveliest shapes of Objects set before it: Even so that
Wife should not be most esteemed who richest is, and of the noblest Race, but she who fearing
God, conforms her self nearest unto the Humour of her Husband.

Consider how the Moon doth not bor|row her Light from Iupiter, Mars, Mer|cury, or any other of
the Planets; nor yet from any of those Splendid Stars which are set in the spangled Firma|ment;
but from her Husband only, the bright Sun, which she receiveth from him more or less, according
to the man|ner of his Aspect, and variously bestowed Eradiations. Just so should you be a Pattern
to your Wife in Vertue, goodly Zeal and true Devotion, that by your 254 Radiance in darting on
her the Aspect of an Exemplary Goodness, she, in your imi|tation, may outshine the Luminaries
of all other Women. To this effect you daily must implore God's Grace to the Protection of you
both. You would have me then (quoth Panurge, twisting the Whiskers of his Beard on either side
with the Thumb and Fore-finger of his Left Hand) to espouse and take to Wife the prudent frugal
Woman described by Solomon: Without all doubt she is dead, and truly to my best remembrance
I never saw her; the Lord forgive me. Never|theless I thank you, Father; eat this slice of
Marchpane, it will help your Disgestion; then shall you be presented with a Cup of Claret
Hypocras, which is right healthful and stomached. Let us proceed.

255

CHAP. XXXI. How the Physician Rondibilis counsel|leth Panurge.

PAnurge continuing his Discourse, said, The first word which was spoken by him who guelded
the Lubbardly quaffing Monks of Saussiniac, after that he had un|stoned Friar Corcil, was this,
To the rest. In like manner, I say, to the rest. There|fore I beseech you, my good Master
Ron|dibilis, should I marry or not? By the ra|king pace of my Mule, quoth Rondibilis, I know not
what Answer to make to this Problem of yours.

You say that you feel in you the prick|ing Stings of Sensuality, by which you are stirred up to
Venery. I find in our Faculty of Medicine, and we have founded our Opinion therein upon the
deliberate Resolution and final Decision of the anci|ent Platonicks, that Carnal Concupiscence is
cooled and quelled five several ways.

256 First, By the means of Wine. I shall easily believe that, (quoth Friar Ihon) for when I am
well whitled with the Juyce of the Grape, I care for nothing else so I may sleep. When I say
(quoth Rondi|bilis) that Wine abateth Lust, my meaning is, Wine immoderately taken; for by
In|temperancy proceeding from the exces|sive drinking of Strong Liquor, there is brought upon
the Body of such a Swill-down Bouser a chilness in the Blood, a slackening in the Sinews, a
 343

Dissipation of the Generative Seed, a numbness and he|betation of the Senses, with a perversive
wriness and Convulsion of the Muscles; all which are great Lets and Impediments to the Act of
Generation. Hence it is that Bacchus, the God of Bibbers, Tip|lers and Drunkards is most
commonly painted Beardless, and clad in a Womans Habit, as a Person altogether Effeminate, or
like a libbed Eunuch. Wine neverthe|less taken moderately worketh quite con|trary Effects, as is
implied by the old Proverb, which saith, That Venus takes cold when not accompanied with
Ceres and Bacchus. This Opinion is of great Antiquity, as appeareth by the Testimo|ny of
Diodorus the Sicilian, and confirmed by Pausanias, and universally held amongst 257 the
Lampsacians, that Don Priapos was the Son of Bacchus and Venus.

Secondly, The Fervency of Lust is aba|ted by certain Drugs, Plants, Herbs and Roots, which
make the Taker cold, ma|leficiated, unfit for, and unable to perform the Act of Generation; as
hath been of|ten experimented in the Water-Lilly, Heraclea, Agnus Castus, Willow-twigs, Hemp-
stalks, Woodbind, Honey suckle, Tamarisk, Chastree, Mandrake, Bennet, Kecbuglosse, the Skin
of a Hippopatam, and many other such, which by conveni|ent Doses proportioned to the peccant
Humour and Constitution of the Patient, being duly and seasonably received with|in the Body,
what by their Elementary Vertues on the one side, and peculiar Properties on the other, do either
be|numb, mortifie and beclumpse with Cold the prolifick Semence; or scatter and dis|perse the
Spirits, which ought to have gone along with, and conducted the Sperm to the places destinated
and ap|pointed for its reception. Or lastly, Shut up, stop and obstruct the ways, passages and
conduits through which the Seed should have been expelled, evacuated and ejected. We have
nevertheless of those Ingredients, which being of a contrary Operation, heat the Blood, bend the
258 Nerves, unite the Spirits, quicken the Senses, strengthen the Muscles, and there|by rouze up,
provoke, excite and inable a Man to the vigorous Accomplishment of the Feat of Amorous
Dalliance. I have no need of those, (quoth Panurge) God be thanked, and you my good Master.
Howsoever I pray you take no exception or offence at these my words; for what I have said was
not out of any ill Will I did bear to you, the Lord he knows.

Thirdly, The Ardour of Lechery is very much subdued and mated by fre|quent Labour and
continual Toiling: For by painful Exercises and laborious work|ing, so great a Dissolution is
brought upon the whole Body, that the Blood which runneth alongst the Channels of the Veins
thereof, for the Nourishment and Ali|mentation of each of its Members, hath neither time, leisure
nor power to afford the Seminal Resudation, or superfluity of the third Concoction, which Nature
most carefully reserves for the conservati|on of the Individual, whose Preservation she more
heedfully regardeth than the propagating of the Species, and the mul|tiplication of Humane Kind.
VVhence it is, that Diana is said to be chast, be|cause she is never idle, but always busied about
her Hunting, For the same reason 259 was a Camp, or Leaguer of old called Ca|strum, as if they
would have said Castum: because the Soldiers, Wrestlers, Runners, Throwers of the Bar, and
other such-like Athletick Champions, as are usually seen in a Military Circumvallation, do
unces|santly travel and turmoil, and are in a perpetual stir and agitation. To this pur|pose
Hippocrates also writeth in his Book, De Aere Aqua & locis: That in his time there were People
in Scythia as impotent as Eunuchs, in the discharge of a Vene|rian Exploit; because that without
any cessation, pause, or respit, they were ne|ver from off Horseback, or otherways as|siduously
employed in some troublesome and molesting Drudgery.
 344

On the other part, in opposition and repugnancy hereto, the Philosophers say, That Idleness is the
Mother of Luxury. When it was asked Ovid, Why Egistus became an Adulterer? he made no
other Answer but this: Because he was idle. Who were able to rid the World of Loytring and
La|ziness, might easily frustrate and disap|point Cupid of all his Designs, Aims, En|gines, and
Devices, and so disable and ap|pall him, that his Bow, Quiver, and Darts should from thenceforth
be a meer need|less Load and Burthen to him: for that it could not then lie in his power to 260
strike, or wound any of either Sex, with all the Arms he had. He is not, I believe, so expert an
Archer, as that he can hit the Cranes flying in the Air, or yet the young Stags skipping through
the Thickets, as the Parthians knew well how to do; that is to say, People moyling, sinking, and
hurrying up and down, restless, and with|out repose. He must have those husht, still, quiet, lying
at a stay, lither, and full of ease, whom he is able, though his Mo|ther help him, to touch, much
less to pierce with all his Arrows, in confirma|tion hereof, Theophrastus being asked on a time,
What kind of Beast or Thing he judged a toyish, wanton Love to be? he made Answer, That it
was a Passion of idle and sluggish Spirits. From which pretty Description of ticking Love-tricks
that of Diogenes's hatching was not very discrepant, when he defined Leachery, Occupation of
Folks destitute of all other Occupation.

For this cause the Syconian Engraver, Ca|nachus, being desirous to give us to under|stand, that
Sloath, Drouziness, Negli|gence, and Laziness were the prime Guar|dians and Governesses of
Ribaldry, made the Statue of Venus (not standing, as other Stone-Cutters had used to do, but)
sit|ting.

261 Fourthly, The tickling pricks of Incon|tinency are blunted by an eager Study; for from thence
proceedeth an incredible resolution of the Spirits, that oftentimes there do not remain so many
behind as may suffice to push and thrust forwards the Generative Resudation to the places
thereto appropriated, and therewithal in|flate the Cavernous Nerve; whose office is to ejaculate
the Moisture for the Pro|pagation of Humane Progeny. Least you should think it is not so, be
pleased but to contemplate a little the Form, Fashion, and Carriage of a Man exceeding earnest|ly
set upon some Learned Meditation, and deeply plunged therein, and you shall see how all the
Arteries of his Brains are stretched forth, and bent like the String of a Cross-bow, the more
promptly, dexte|rously, and copiously to suppeditate, fur|nish, and supply him with store of
Spirits, sufficient to replenish, and fill up the Ven|tricles, Seats, Tunnels, Mansions, Rece|ptacles,
and Celluls of the common Sense; of the Imagination, Apprehension, and Fancy; of the
Ratiocination, Arguing, and Resolution; as likewise of the Memo|ry, Recordation, and
Remembrance; and with great alacrity, nimbleness, and agility to run, pass, and course from the
one to the other, through those Pipes, Windings, 262 and Conduits, which to skilful Anatomists
are perceivable, at the end of the Wonder|ful Net, where all the Arteries close in a terminating
Point: which Arteries taking their rise and origine from the left Capsul of the Heart, bring
through several Cir|cuits, Ambages, and Anfractuosities, the Vital, to subtilize and refine them to
the Aetherial Purity of Animal Spirits. Nay, in such a studiously musing Person, you may espy
so extravagant Raptures of one, as it were, out of himself, that all his Na|tural Faculties for that
time will seem to be suspended from each their proper charge and office, and his exteriour
Senses to be at a stand. In a word, you cannot o|therways choose then think, that he is by an
extraordinary Extasie quite transported out of what he was, or should be; and that Socrates did
not speak improperly, when he said, That Philosophy was nothing else but a Medi|tation upon
Death. This possibly is the rea|son, why Democritus deprived himself of the Sense of Seeing,
 345

prizing at a much lower rate the loss of his Sight, than the diminution of his Contemplations;
which he frequently had found disturbed by the vagrant, flying-out strayings of his unset|led and
roving Eyes. Therefore is it, that Pallas, the Goddess of Wisdom, Tutress, and Guardianess of
such as are diligently 263 studious, and painfully industrious, is, and hath been still accounted a
Virgin. The Muses upon the same consideration are esteemed perpetual Maids: and the Graces
for the like reason, have been held to con|tinue in a sempiternal Pudicity.

I remember to have read, that Cupid on a time being asked of his Mother Ve|nus, why he did not
assault and set upon the Muses, his Answer was, That he found them so fair, so sweet, so fine, so
neat, so wise, so learned, so modest, so discreet, so courteous, so vertuous, and so continually
busied and em|ployed: One in the Speculation of the Stars; another in the Supputation of
Num|bers; the Third in the Dimension of Geo|metrical Quantities; the Fourth in the Composition
of Heroick Poems; the Fifth in the jovial Interludes of a Comick Strain; the Sixth in the stately
Gravity of a Tragick Vein; the Seventh in the Melo|dious Disposition of Musical Airs; the Eighth
in the compleatest manner of Wri|ting Histories, and Books on all sorts of Subjects; and the
Ninth in the Mysteries, Secrets, and Curiosities of all Sciences, Fa|culties, Disciplines, and Arts
whatsoever, whether Liberal or Mechanick; that ap[...]proaching near unto them, he unbended his
Bow, shut his Quiver, and extinguish|ed his Torch, through meer shame and 264 fear, that by
mischance he might do them some hurt or prejudice: which done, he thereafter put off the Fillet
wherewith his Eyes were bound, to look them in the Face, and to hear their Melody and Poe|tick
Odes. There took he the greatest pleasure in the World; that many times he was transported with
their Beauty and pretty Behaviour, and charmed asleep by the Harmony: so far was he from
assault|ing them, or interrupting their Studies. Under this Article may be comprised, what
Hippocrates wrote in the aforecited Treatise concerning the Scythians, as also that in a Book of
his entituled, Of Breed|ing and Production; where he hath affirm|ed, all such Men to be unfit for
Genera|tion, as have their Parotid Arteries cut; whose Situation is beside the Ears: for the reason
given already, when I was speak|ing of the resolution of the Spirits, and of that Spiritual Blood,
whereof the Arte|ries are the sole and proper Receptacles; and that likewise he doth maintain a
large portion of the Parastatick Liquor, to issue and descend from the Brains and Back|bone.

Fifthly, By the too frequent reiteration of the Act of Venery. There did I wait for you (quoth
Panurge) and shall willing|ly apply it to my self, whilst any one that 265 pleaseth may, for me,
make use of any of the four preceding. That is the very same thing (quoth Fryar Ihon) which
Fa|ther Scyllino, Prior of Saint Victor, at Mar|seilles, calleth by the Name of Maceration, and
taming of the Flesh. I am of the same Opinion; and so was the Hermite of Saint Radegonde, a
little above Chinon: for (quoth he) the Hermites of Thebaida can no more aptly or expediently
macerate and bring down the Pride of their Bodies, daunt and mortifie their leacherous
Sensuality, or depress and overcome the stubbornness and rebellion of the Flesh, then by dufling
and fanferluching it Five and twenty, or Thirty times a day. I see Panurge, quoth Rondibilis,
neatly featured, and propor|tioned in all the Members of his Body, of a good temperament in his
Humors, well complexioned in his Spirits, of a competent Age, in an opportune Time, and of a
reasonably forward Mind to be married: truly, if he encounter with a Wife of the like Nature,
Temperament, and Constitution, he may beget upon her Children worthy of some Transpontine
Mo|narchy; and the sooner he marry, it will be the better for him, and the more con|ducible for
his Profit, if he would see and have his Children in his own time well provided for. Sir, my
worthy Master 266 (quoth Panurge) I will do it, do not you doubt thereof; and that quickly
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enough, I warrant you. Nevertheless, whilst you were busied in the utter|ing of your Learned
Discourse, this Flea which I have in mine Ear, hath tick|led me more then ever. I retain you in the
Number of my Festival Guests, and promise you, that we shall not want for Mirth, and Good
Chear e|nough; yea, over and above the or|dinary Rate. And, if it may please you, desire your
Wife to come along with you, together with her She-Friends and Neighbours: That is to be
understood, and there shall be fair Play.

267

CHAP. XXXII. How Rondibilis declareth Cuckoldry to be naturally one of the

Appendances of Marriage.

THere remaineth as yet, quoth Panurge going on in his Discourse, one small scruple to be
cleared: you have seen here|tofore, I doubt not, in the Roman Stand|ards, S. P. Q. R. Si, Peu, Que,
Rien: Shall not I be a Cuckold? By the Haven of Safety, cried out Rondibilis, what is this you
ask of me? If you shall be a Cuckold: My Noble Friend, I am married, and you are like to be so
very speedily: therefore be pleased from my Experiment in the matter, to write in your Brain,
with a Steel-pen, this subsequent Ditton, There is no married Man who doth not run the hazard
of being made a Cuckold. Cuckoldry natu|rally attendeth Marriage; the Shadow doth not more
naturally follow the Body, then Cuckoldry ensueth after Marriage, to place fair Horns upon the
Husband's Heads.

268 And when you shall happen to hear any Man pronounce these three Words: He is Married:
if you then say he is, hath been, shall be, or may be a Cuckold, you will not be accounted an
unskilful Artist in framing of true Consequences. Tripes and Bowels of all the Devils, cries
Panurge, what do you tell me? My dear Friend, (answered Rondibilis) as Hippo|crates, on a
time, was in the very nick of set|ting forwards from Lango to Polystilo, to Visit the Philosopher
Democritus, he wrote a familiar Letter to his Friend Dionoys, wherein he desired him, That he
would during the interval of his absence, carry his Wife to the House of her Father and Mother,
who were an honourable Couple, and of good Repute; because I would not have her at my
Home, (said he) to make abode in Solitude: yet notwith|standing this her Residence beside her
Pa|rents, do not fail (quoth he) with a most heedful care and circumspection to pry into her ways,
and to espy what places she shall go to with her Mother, and who those be that shall repair unto
her: Not (quoth he) that I do mistrust her Vertue, or that I seem to have any diffidence of her
Pudicity, and chaste Behaviour; for of that I have frequently had good and real proofs: but I must
freely tell you, 269 She is a Woman: there lies the suspition.

My worthy Friend, the Nature of Wo|men is set forth before our Eyes, and repre|sented to us by
the Moon, in divers other things, as well as in this, that they squat, sculck, constrain their own
Inclinations, and with all the Cunning they can, dis|semble and play the Hypocrite in the sight
and presence of their Husbands; who come no sooner to be out of the way, but that forthwith
they take their advantage, pass the time merrily, desist from all labour, frolick it, gad abroad; lay
aside their counterfeit Garb, and open|ly declare and manifest the interiour of their Dispositions;
even as the Moon, when she is in Conjunction with the Sun, is neither seen in the Heavens, nor
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on the Earth, but in her Opposition, when remotest from him, shineth in her greatest fulness, and
wholly appeareth in her brightest splendour whilst it is Night: Thus Women are but Women.

When I say Womankind, I speak of a Sex so frail, so variable, so changeable, so fickle,

inconstant, and imperfect, that in my Opinion, Nature (under favour ne|vertheless of the prime
Honour and Reve|rence which is due unto her) did in a manner mistake the Road which she had
traced formerly, and stray exceedingly 270 from that Excellence of Providential Judg|ment, by
the which she had created and formed all other things, when she built, framed, and made up the
Woman. And having thought upon it a Hundred and five times, I know not what else to
deter|mine therein, save only that in the devi|sing, hammering, forging, and compo|sing of the
Woman, she hath had a much tenderer regard, and by a great deal more respectful heed to the
delightful Consort|ship, and sociable Delectation of the Man, than to the Perfection and
Accomplishment of the individual Womanishness, or Mul[...]ebrity. The Divine Philosopher
Plato, was doubtful in what Rank of living Creatures to place and collocate them, whither
amongst the Rational Animals, by elevating them to an upper Seat in the Specifical Classis of
Hu|manity; or with the Irrational, by degra|ding them to a lower Bench on the oppo|site side, of a
Brutal kind, and meer Bestia|lity: for Nature hath posited in a privy, secret, and intestine place of
their Bodies, a sort of Member (by some not imperti|nently termed an Animal) which is not to be
found in Men. Therein sometimes are engendred certain Humors so saltish, brackish, clammy,
sharp, nipping, tear|ing, prickling, and most eagerly tickling, that by their stinging Acrimony,
rending 271 Nitrosity, figging Itch, wrigling Mordi|cancy, and smarting Salsitude, (for the said
Member is altogether sinewy, and of a most quick and lively feeling) their whole Body is shaken
and ebrangled, their Senses totally ravished and transpor|ted, the operations of their Judgment
and Understanding utterly confounded, and all disordinate Passions and Perturbations of the
Mind thoroughly and absolutely allowed, admitted, and approved of; yea, in such sort, that if
Nature had not been so favourable unto them, as to have sprin|kled their Forehead with a little
Tincture of Bashfulness and Modesty, you should see them in a so frantick mood run mad after
Lechery, and hye apace up and down with hast and Lust, in quest of, and to fix some Chamber-
Standard in their Paphian Ground, that never did the Pretides, Mimallonides, nor Lyaean Thyads
deport themselves in the time of their Bacchanalian Festivals, more shamelesly, or with a so
affronted and brazen-faced Impudency; because this terrible Animal is knit unto, and hath an
Union with all the chief and most principal parts of the Body, as to Anatomists is evident· Let it
not here be thought strange that I should call it an Animal, seeing therein I do no otherwise than
follow and adhere 272 to the Doctrine of the Academick and Pe|ripatetick Philosophers. For if a
proper Motion be a certain mark and infallible token of the Life and Animation of the Mover, (as
Aristotle writeth) and that any such thing as moveth of its self ought to be held Animated, and of a
Living Na|ture; then assuredly Plato with very good reason did give it the Denomination of an
Animal; for that he perceived and ob|served in it the proper and self-stirring mo|tions of
Suffocation, Precipitation, Cor|rugation, and of Indignation, so extream|ly violent, that
oftentimes by them is taken and removed from the Women all other sense and moving
whatsoever, as if she were in a swounding Lipothymy, be|numming Sincop, Epileptick,
Apoplectick Palsey, and true resemblance of a pale|faced Death.

Furthermore, in the said Member there is a manifest discerning Faculty of Scents and Odours
very perceptible to Women, who feel it fly from what is rank and un|savoury, and follow fragrant
and Aroma|tick Smells. It is not unknown to me how Cl. Gallen striveth with might and main, to
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prove that these are not proper and particular Notions proceeding in|trinsically from the thing it
self, but acci|dentally, and by chance. Nor hath it 273 escaped my notice, how others of that Sect
have laboured hardly, yea, to the ut|most of their Abilities, to demonstrate that it is not a sensitive
discerning or per|ception in it of the difference of Wafts and Smells, but meerly a various manner
of Vertue and Efficacy, passing forth and flowing from the diversity of odoriferous Substances
applied near unto it. Neverthe|less, if you will studiously examine, and se|riously ponder and
weigh in Critolaus's Ba|lance the strength of their Reasons and Ar|guments, you shall find that
they, not only in this, but in several other matters also of the like nature, have spoken at random,
and rather out of an ambitious Envy to check and reprehend their Betters, than for any design to
make enquiry into the solid Truth.

I will not launch my little Skif any further into the wide Ocean of this Di|spute, only will I tell
you that the Praise and Commendation is not mean and slen|der which is due to those honest and
good Women, who living chastly and without blame, have had the power and vertue to curb,
range and subdue that unbridled, heady and wild Animal to an obedient, submissive and
obsequious yielding unto Reason. Therefore here will I make an end of my Discourse thereon,
when I 274 shall have told you, that the said Animal being once satiated (if it be possible that it
can be contented or satisfied) by that Aliment, which Nature hath provided for it out of the
Epididymal Store-house of Man, all its former and irregular and disordered Motions are at an
end, laid and asswaged; all its vehement and un|ruly Longings lulled, pacified and quieted; and
all the furious and raging Lusts, Ap|petites and Desires thereof appeased, sup|pressed, calmed
and extinguished. For this cause let it seem nothing strange un|to you, if we be in a perpetual
Danger of being Cuckolds; that is to say, such of us as have not wherewithal fully to satisfie the
Appetite and Expectation of that vo|racious Animal. Ods Fish! (quoth Pa|nurge) have you no
preventive Cure in all your Medicinal Art for hindring ones [...]ead to be Horny-graffed at home,
whilst his Feet are plodding abroad? Yes that I have, my gallant Friend, (answered Ron|dibilis)
and that which is a Sovereign Re|medy, whereof I frequently make use my self; and that you may
the better relish, it is set down and written in the Book of a most famous Author, whose Renown
is of a standing of two thousand Years. Hearken and take good heed: You are (quoth Panurge)
by Cocks-Hobby, a right 275 honest Man, and I love you with all my heart; eat a little of this
Quince-Pye, it is very proper and convenient for the shut|ting up of the Orifice of the Ventricle of
the Stomach, because of a kind of astrin|gent Stypticity, which is in that sort of Fruit, and is
helpful to the first Conco|ction. But what? I think I speak Latin before Clerks. Stay, fill, I give
you some|what to drink out of this Nestorian Gob|let. Will you have another Draught of white
Hippocras? Be not afraid of the Squinzy, No: There is neither Squinant, Ginger nor Grains in it;
only a little choice Cinnamon, and some of the best refined Sugar, with the delicious White-wine
of the Growth of that Vine, which was set in the Slips of the great Sorbaple, above the Wallnut-
tree.

276

CHAP. XXXIII. Rondibilis the Physician's Cure of Cuc|koldry.

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AT that time (quoth Randibilis) when Iupitur took a view of the state of his Olympick House and
Family, and that he had made the Calender of all the Gods and Goddesses, appointing unto the
Fe|stival of every one of them its proper day and season, establishing certain fixed places and
stations for the pronouncing of Oracles, and relief of travelling Pil|grims, and ordaining Victims,
Immolati|ons and Sacrifices suitable and correspon|dent to the Dignity and Nature of the
worshipped and adored Deity. Did not he do (asked Panurge) therein, as Tintou|ille the Bishop
of Auxerre is said once to have done? This Noble Prelate loved entirely the pure Liquor of the
Grape, as every honest and judicious Man doth; therefore was it that he had an especial care and
regard to the Bud of the Vine-tree, as to the great Grandfather of Bac|chus. 277 But so it is, that
for sundry Years together he saw a most pitiful Havock, Desolation and Destruction made
amongst the Sprouts, Shootings, Buds, Blossoms and Sciens of the Vines by hoary Frosts, Dank-
fogs, hot Mists, unseasonable Colds, chill Blasts, thick Hail, and other calami|tous Chances of
foul Weather happening, as he thought, by the dismal inauspicious|ness of the Holy Days of St
George, St. Ma|ry, St. Paul, St. Eutrope, Holy Rood, the As|cension, and o[...]her Festivals, in
that time when the Sun passeth under the Sign of Taurus; and thereupon harboured in his Mind
this Opinion, that the afore-named Saints were Saint Hail-flingers, Saint Frost-senders, Saint
Fogmongers, and Saint Spoilers of the Vine-buds; for which cause be went about to have
transmitted their Feasts from the Spring to the Win|ter, to be Celebrated between Christmas and
Epiphany, (so the Mother of the three Kings called it) allowing them with all Honour and
Reverence the liberty then to freeze, hail and rain as much as they would; for that he knew that at
such a time Frost was rather profitable than hurtful to the Vine-buds, and in their steads to have
placed the Festivals of St. Christopher, St. Iohn the Baptist, St. Mag|dalene, St. Ann, St.
Domingo, and St. Law|rence; 278 yea, and to have gone so far as to collocate and transpose the
middle of Au|gust in, and to the beginning of May; because during the whole Space of their
Solemnity, there was so little danger of hoary Frosts and cold Mists, that no Ar|tificers are then
held in greater Request, than the Afforder of refrigerating Inven|tions, Makers of Junkets, fit
Disposers of cooling Shades, Composers of green Ar|bours, and Refreshers of Wine.

Iupiter (said Rondibilis) forgot the poor Devil Cuckoldry, who was then in the Court at Paris,
very eagerly solliciting a pedling Suit at Law for one of his Vassals and Tenants; within some
few days there|after, (I have forgot how many) when he got full notice of the Trick, which in his
Absence was done unto him, he in|stantly desisted from prosecuting Legal Processes, in the
behalf of others, full of Sollicitude to pursue after his own business, lest he should be fore-
closed: And there|upon he appeared personally at the Tri|bunal of the great Iupiter, displayed
be|fore him the importance of his preceed|ing Merits; together with the acceptable Services,
which in Obedience to his Com|mandments he had formerly performed; and therefore, in all
humility, begged of him, that he would be pleased not to 279 leave him alone amongst all the
Sacred Potentates, destitute and void of Honour, Reverence, Sacrifices and festival Cere|monies.
To this Petition Iupiter's Answer was excusatory, That all the Places and Offices of his House
were bestowed. Ne|vertheless so importuned was he by the continual Supplications of Monsieur
Cuc|koldry, that he, in fine, placed him in the Rank, List, Roll, Rubrick and Catalogue; and
appointed Honours, Sacrifices and Fe|stival Rites to be observed on Earth in great Devotion, and
tendred to him with Solemnity.

The Feast, because there was no void, empty nor vacant place in all the Calen|der, was to be
celebrated jointly with, and on the same day that had been conse|crated to the Goddess Iealousie:
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His Power and Dominion should be over Married Folks, especially such as had handsom Wives:
His Sacrifices were to be Suspici|on, Diffidence, Mistrust, a lowring powt|ing Sullenness,
Watchings, Wardings, Re|searchings, Plyings, Explorations, toge|ther with the Way-layings,
Ambushes, narrow Observations, and malicious Dog|gings of the Husband's Scouts and Espials
of the most privy Actions of their Wives. Herewithal every married Man was ex|presly and
rigorously commanded to re|verence, 280 honour and worship him; to ce|lebrate and solemnize
his Festival with twice more respect than that of another Saint or Deity, and to immolate unto
him with all Sincerity and Alacrity of Heart the above-mentioned Sacrifices and Oblations, under
pain of severe Censures, Threatnings, and Comminations of these subsequent Fines, Mulcts,
Amerciaments, Penalties and Punishments to be inflicted on the Delinquents; that Monsieur
Cuc|koldry should never be favourable nor pro|pitious to them; that he should never help, aid,
supply, succour nor grant them any subventitious Furtherance, auxiliary Suffrage, or
adminiculary Assistance; that he should never hold in any Reckoning Account or Estimation;
that he should never daign to enter within their Houses, neither at the Doors, Windows, nor any
other place thereof; that he should never haunt nor frequent their Companies or Conversations;
how frequently soever they should invocate him, and call upon his Name; and that not only he
should leave and abandon them to rot alone with their Wives in a sempiternal Solitariness,
without the benefit of the diversion of any Copesmate or Corrival at all; but should withal shun
and eschew them, fly from them, and eternally forsake and re|ject 281 them as impious Hereticks
and Sacri|legious Persons, according to the accu|stom'd manner of other Gods, towards such as
are too slack in offering up the Duties and Reverences which ought to be performed respectively
to their Divinities: As is evidently apparent in Bacchus to|wards negligent Vine-dressers; in
Ceres against idle Plow-men and Tillers of the Ground; in Pomona to unworthy Fruite|rers and
Custard-mongers; in Neptune towards dissolute Mariners and Sea-faring Men; in Vulcan towards
loytering Smiths and Forge-men; and so throughout the rest.

Now, on the contrary, this infallible Promise was added, that unto all those who should make a
Holy Day of the above-recited Festival, and cease from all man|ner of worldly Work and
Negotiation, lay aside all their own most important occasions, and to be so wretchless, heedless,
and careless of what might concern the management of their proper Affairs, as to mind nothing
else but a suspicious espying and prying into the secret Deportments of their Wives, and how to
koop, shut up, hold at under, and deal cruelly and au|steerly with them, by all the Harshness and
Hardships that an implacable, and every way inexorable Jealousie can de|vise 282 and suggest,
conform to the Sacred Ordinances of the afore-mentioned Sa|crifices and Oblations, he should be
con|tinually favourable to them, should love them, sociably converse with them, should be Day
and Night in their Houses, and never leave them destitute of his Presence. Now I have said, and
you have heard my Cure.

Ha, ha, ha, (quoth Capalin laughing) this is a remedy yet more apt and proper than Hans Carvel's
Ring: The Devil take me if I do not believe it. The Humour, Inclination and Nature of Women is
like the Thunder, whose Force in its Bolt, or otherways, burneth, bruiseth and break|eth only
hard, massive and resisting Ob|jects, without staying or stopping at soft, empty and yielding
matters: For it pash|eth into pieces the Steel Sword, without doing any hurt to the Velvet
Scabbard which insheatheth it: It rusheth also, and consumeth the Bones, without wounding or
end[...]mmaging the Flesh, wherewith they are vailed and covered: Just so it is, that Women for
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the greater part never bend the Contention, Subtilty, and con|tradictory Disposition of their
Spirits, unless it be to do what is prohibited and forbidden.

283 Verily, (quoth Hippothadee) some of of our Doctors averr for a truth, that the first Woman
of the World, whom the Hebrews call Eve, had hardly been indu|ced or allured into the
Temptation of eating of the Fruit of the Tree of Life, if it had not been forbidden her so to do.
And that you may give the more Credit to the Validity of this Opinion, consider how the
cautelous and wily Tempter did com|memorate unto her, for an antecedent to his Enthymeme, the
Prohibition which was made to taste it, as being desirous to infer from thence, It it forbidden
thee; therefore thou shouldst eat of it, else thou canst not be a Woman.

CHAP. XXXIV. How Women ordinarily have the great|est longing after things prohibited.

WHEN I was (quoth Carpalin) a Whoremaster at Orleans, the whole Art of Rhetorick in all its
Tropes and Figures, was not able to afford unto me a Colour or Flourish of greater force and 284
value; nor could I by any other form or manner of Elocution pitch upon a more perswasive
Argument for bringing young beautiful married Ladies into the Snares of Adultery, through
alluring and inticing them to tast with me of Amorous Delights, then with a lively Sprightfulness
to tell them in down-right terms, and to re|monstrate to them, (with a great shew of Detestation of
a Crime so horrid) how their Husbands were jealous. This was none of my Invention: It is
written, and we have Laws, Examples, Reasons and daily Experiences confirmative of the same.
If this Belief once enter into their Noddles, their Husbands will infallibly be Cuckolds; yea, by
God, will they, (without swearing) although they should do like Semiramis, Pasiphae, Egesta,
the Women of the Isle Mandez in Egypt, and other such like Queanish flurting Harlots,
mentioned in the Writings of Herodotus, Strabo, and such like Puppies.

Truly (quoth Panocrates) I have heard it related, and it hath been told me for a Verity, that Pope
Ihon 22. passing on a day through the Abby of Toucherome, was in all Humility required and
besought by the Abbess, and other discreet Mothers of the said Convent, to grant them an
In|dulgence, by means whereof they might 285 confess themselves to one another, alledg|ing,
That Religious Women were subject to some petty secret Slips and Imperfecti|ons, which would
be a foul and burning shame for them to discover and to reveal to Men, how Sacerdotal soever
their Fun|ction were: but that they would freelier, more familiarly, and with greater chear|fulness,
open to each other their Offences, Faults, and Escapes, under the Seal of Confession. There is not
any thing (an|swered the Pope) fitting for you to impe|trate of me, which I would not most
willingly condescend unto: but I find one inconvenience; you know, Confession should be kept
secret: and Women are not able to do so. Exceeding well (quoth they) most Holy Father, and
much more closely then the best of Men.

The said Pope on the very same day, gave them in keeping a pretty Box, where|in he purposely
caused a little Linnet to be put, willing them very gently and cour|teously to lock it up in some
sure and hid|den place; and promising them, by the Faith of a Pope, that he should yield to their
Request, if they would keep secret what was enclosed within that deposited Box: enjoyning them
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withal, not to pre|sume one way nor other, directly or indi|rectly, to go about the opening thereof,
286 under pain of the highest Ecclesiastical Censure, Eternal Excommunication. The Prohibition
was no sooner made, but that they did all of them boyl with a most ar|dent desire to know, and
see what kind of thing it was that was within it: they thought long already, that the Pope was not
gone, to the end they might joyntly, with the more leisure and ease apply themselves to the Box-
opening Curio|sity.

The Holy Father, after he had given them his Benediction, retired and with|drew himself to the
Pontifical Lodgings of his own Palace; but he was hardly gone three Steps from without the
Gates of their Cloyster, when the good Ladies throngingly, and as in a hudled Crowd, pressing
hard on the Backs of one another, ran thrusting and shoving who should be first at the setting
open of the forbidden Box, and descrying of the Quod latitat within.

On the very next day thereafter, the Pope made them another Visit, of a full design, purpose, and
intention (as they imagined) to dispatch the Grant of their sought and wished-for Indulgence: but
before he would enter into any Chat or Communing with them, he commanded the Casket to be
brought unto him: it 287 was done so accordingly; but by your leave, the Bird was no more there.
Then was it, that the Pope did represent to their Maternities, how hard a matter and diffi|cult it
was for them to keep Secrets reveal|ed to them in Confession, unmanifested to the Ears of others;
seeing for the space of Four and twenty hours they were not able to lay up in secret a Box, which
he had highly recommended to their Discretion, Charge and Custody.

Welcome, in good Faith, my dear Ma|ster, welcome: It did me good to hear you talk, the Lord be
praised for all. I do not remember to have seen you before now, since the last tim[...] that you
acted at Monpelliers, with our ancient Friends, Anthony Saporra, Guy Bourguyer, Balthasar
Noyer, Tolly, Ihon Quentin, Francis Robinet, Ihon Perdrier, and Francis Rabelais, the Moral
Comedy of him who had espoused and married a Dumb Wife. I was there, quoth Epistemon, the
good honest Man, her Husband, was very earnestly urgent to have the Fillet of her Tongue
untied, and would needs have her speak by any means: at his desire, some pains were ta|ken on
her, and partly by the industry of the Physitian, other part by the expert|ness of the Surgeon, the
Encyliglotte, which she had under her Tongue, being cut, she 288 spoke and spoke again; yea,
within few hours she spoke so loud, so much, so fiercely, and so long, that her poor Hus|band
returned to the same Physitian for a Recipe to make her hold her Peace: There are (quoth the
Physician) many pro|per Remedies in our Art, to make dumb Women speak, but there are none,
that ever I could learn therein, to make them silent. The only Cure which I have found out, is
their Husband's Deafness. The Wretch became within few Weeks there|after, by Vertue of some
Drugs, Charms or Enchantments, which the Physician had prescribed unto him, so deaf, that he
could not have heard the Thundring of Nine|teen hundred Canons at a Salve. His Wife
perceiving, that indeed he was as deaf as a Door-nail, and that her Scold|ing was but in vain, sith
that he heard her not, she grew stark mad.

Some time after, the Doctor asked for his Fee of the Husband; who answered, That truly he was
deaf, and so was not able to understand what the tenure of his Demand might be. Whereupon the
Leech bedusted him with a little, I know not what, sort of Powder; which rendred him a Fool
immediately: so great was the stultificating Vertue of that strange kind of pulverized Dose. Then
did this 289 Fool of a Husband, and his mad Wife joyn together, falling on the Doctor and the
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Surgeon, did so scratch, bethwack, and bang them, that they were left half dead upon the place,
so furious were the Blows which they received: I never in my Life-time laughed so much, as at
the acting of that Buffoonry.

Let us come to where we left off, quoth Panurge) your Words· being translated from the
Clapper-dudgions to plain Eng|lish, do signifie, that it is not very inex|pedient that I marry, and
that I should not care for being a Cuckold. You have there hit the Nail on the Head. I believe,
Master Doctor, that on the Day of my Marriage you will be so much taken up with your Patients,
or otherways so seri|ously employed, that we shall not enjoy your Company: Sir, I will heartily
ex|cuse your absence.

Stercus & urina medici sunt prandia prima.

Ex aliis paleas ex ist is collige grana.

You are mistaken (quoth Rondibilis) in the Second Verse of our Distich; for it ought to run thus:
Nobis sunt signa vobis sunt prandia digna.

290 If my Wife at any time prove to be un|well, and ill at ease, I will look upon the Water which
she shall have made in an Urinal-glass, (quoth Rondibilis) grope her Pulse, and see the
disposition of her Hypogaster, together with her Umbilicary Parts. According to the Prescript
Rule of Hippocrates, 2. Aph. 35. before I proceed any further in the Cure of her Distem|per. No,
no, (quoth Panurge) that will be but to little purpose; such a Feat is for the Practice of us that are
Lawyers, who have the Rubrick, De Ventre inspiciendo: Do not therefore trouble your self about
it, (Master Doctor) I will provide for her a Plaister of warm Guts. Do not neglect your more
urgent occasions other-where, for coming to my Wedding, I will send you some supply of
Victuals to your own House, without putting you to the trou|ble of coming abroad, and you shall
al|ways be my special Friend. With this approaching somewhat nearer to him, he clapp'd into his
Hand, without the speak|ing of so much as one word, four Rose Nobles. Rondibilis did shut his
Fist upon them right kindly; yet as if it had displea|sed him to make acceptance of such Gold|en
Presents; he in a start, as if he had been wroth, said, He, he· he, he he, th[...]e was no need of any
thing, I [...] 291 nevertheless; From wicked Folks, I never get enough; and I from honest People
refuse nothing. I shall be always, Sir, at your Command. Provided that I pay you well, quoth
Panurge. That (quoth Rondi|bilis) is understood.

CHAP. XXXV. How the Philosopher Trouillogan han|dleth the difficulty of Marriage.

AS this Discourse was ended, Panta|gruel said to the Philosopher Trouillo|gan, Our loyal,
honest, true and trusty Friend, the Lamp from hand to hand is come to you; it falleth to your turn
to give an Answer, Should Panurge, pray you, marry, yea or no? He should do both, quoth
Trouillogan. What say you, asked Panurge? That which you have heard, answered Trouillogan.
What have I heard? replied Panurge. That which I have said, replied Trouillogan. Ha, ha, ha, are
 354

we come to that pass, quoth Pa|nurge? Let it go nevertheless, I do not value it at a rush, seeing
we can make no 292 better of the Game. But howsoever tell me, Should I marry or no? Neither
the one nor the other, answered Trouillogan. The Devil take me, quoth Panurge, if these odd
Answers do not make me dote, and may be snatch me presently away, if I do understand you.
Stay awhile until I fasten these Spectacles of mine on this left Ear, that I may hear you better.
With this Pantagruel perceived at the Door of the great Hall, (which was that day their Dining
Room) Gargantua's little Dog, whose Name was Kyne; for so was Toby's Dog called, as is
Recorded. Then did he say to these who were there present, Our King is not far off, let us all rise.
That word was scarcely sooner uttered, than that Gargantua with his Ro[...]al Pre|sence graced
that banqueting and stately Hall. Each of their Guests arose to do their King that Reverence and
Duty which became them. After that Gargan|tua had most affably saluted all the Gen|tlemen
there present, he said, Good Friends, I beg this Favour of you, and therein you will very much
oblige me, that you leave not the places where you sate, nor quit the Discourse you were upon.

293 Let a Chair be brought hither unto this end of the Table, and reach me a Cup full of the
strongest and best Wine you have, that I may drink to all the Com|pany. You are in Faith, all
welcom, Gentlemen. Now let me know what Talk you were about. To this Panta|gruel answered,
That at the beginning of the Second Service Panurge had proposed a Problematick Theme, to
wit, Whether he should marry, or not marry? That Father Hippothadee, and Doctor Rondibilis
had al|ready dispatched their Resolutions there|upon; and that just as his Majesty was coming in,
the faithful Trouillogan, in the delivery of his Opinion, hath thus far proceeded, that when
Panurge asked, whether he ought to marry, yea or no. At first he made this Answer, Both
together. When this same Question was again pro|pounded, his second Answer was, Not the one
nor the other. Panurge exclaimeth, that those Answers are full of Repugnan|cies and
Contradictions, protesting that he understands them not, nor what it is that can be meaned by
them. If I be not mistaken, quoth Gargantua, I under|stand it very well: The Answer is not unlike
to that which was once made by a Philosopher in ancient times, who be|ing interrogated, if he
had a Woman, 294 whom they named him, to his Wife; I have her, quoth he, but she hath not
me; possessing her, by her I am not possest. Such another Answer, quoth Pantagruel, was once
made by a certain bouncing Wench of Sparta, who being asked, if at any time she had had to do
with a Man? No, (quoth she) but sometimes Men have to do with me. Well then (quoth
Rondibilis) let it be a Neuter in Physick; as when we say a bo|dy is Neuter, when it is neither sick
nor healthful; and a Mean in Philosophy; that by an Abnegation of both Extreams, and this by
the Participation of the one and of the other: Even as when luke|warm Water is said to be both
hot and cold; or rather, as when Time makes the Partition, and equally divides betwixt the two, a
while in the one, ano|ther while, as long, in the other opposite extremity. The holy Apostle,
(quoth Hippothadee) seemeth, as I conceive, to have more clearly explained this Point, when he
said, Those that are married, let them be as if they were not married; and those that have Wives,
let them be as if they had no Wives at all. I thus inter|terpret (quoth Pantagruel) the having and
not having of a Wife. To have a Wife, is to have the use of her in such a way as Nature hath
ordained, which is for the 295 Aid, Society and Solace of Man, and pro|pagating of his Race: To
have no Wife is not to be uxorious, play the Cow|ard, and be lazy about her, and not for her sake
to distain the Lustre of that Affection which Man owes to God; or yet for her to leave those
Offices and Duties which he owes unto his Coun|try, unto his Friends and Kindred; or for her to
abandon and forsake his pre|cious Studies, and other businesses of Account, to wait still on her
 355

Will, her Beck, and her Buttocks. If we be plea|sed in this Sense to take having and not having of
a Wife, we shall indeed find no Repugnancy nor Contradiction in the Terms at all.

296

CHAP. XXXVI. A Continuation of the Answer of the Ephectick and Pyrronian

Philosopher Trouillogan.

YOU speak wisely, quoth Panurge, if the Moon were green Cheese; such a Tale once piss'd my
Goose: I do not think but that I am let down into that dark Pit, in the lowermost bottom where|of
the truth was hid, according to the saying of Heraclitus. I see no whit at all, I hear nothing,
understand as little, my Senses are altogether dull'd and blunted; truly I do very shrewdly suspect
that I am enchanted. I will now alter the for|mer style of my Discourse, and talk to him in another
Strain. Our trusty Friend, stir not, nor imburse any; but let us va|ry the Chance, and speak
without Dis|junctives: I see already that these loose and ill-joined Members of an Eunuciati|on do
vex, trouble and perplex you.

297 Now go on, in the Name of God, Should I marry?

Trouillogan.

There is some likelyhood therein.

Panurge.

But if I do not marry?

Trouil.

I see in that no Inconveni|ence.

Pan.

You do not?

Trouil.

None, truly, if my Eyes deceive me not.

 356

Pan.

Yea, but I find more than Five Hundred.

Trouil.

Reckon them.

Pan.

This is an Impropriety of Speech, I confess; for I do no more thereby, but take a certain for an
uncertain Number, and posit the determinate Term for what is indeterminate. When I say
therefore Five Hundred, my meaning is, many.

Trouil.

I hear you.

Pan.

Is it possible for me to live with|out a Wife, in the Name of all the Sub|terranean Devils?

Trouil.

Away with these filthy Beasts.

Pan.

Let it be then in the Name of God; for my Salmigondinish People use to say, To lie alone without
a Wife, is certainly a bruitish Life. And such a Life also was it assevered to be by Dido in her
Lamen|tations.

Trouil.

At your Command,

298 Pan.
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By the Pody Cody, I have fished fair; where are we now? But will you tell me? Shall I marry?

Trouil.

Perhaps.

Pan.

Shall I thrive or speed well with|all?

Trouil.

According to the Encounter.

Pan.

But if in my Adventure I en|counter aright, as I hope I will, shall I be fortunate?

Trouil.

Enough.

Pan.

Let us turn the clean contrary way, and brush our former Words against the Wool; what if I
encounter ill?

Trouil.

Then blame not me.

Pan.

But, of Courtesie, be pleased to give me some Advice: I heartily beseech you, what must I do?

Trouil.
 358

Even what thou wilt.

Pan.

Wishy, washy; Trolly, trolly.

Trouil.

Do not Invocate the Name of any thing, I pray you.

Pan.

In the Name of God, let it be so: my Actions shall be regulated by the Rule and Square of your
Counsel: What is it that you advise and counsel me to do?

Trouil.

Nothing.

Pan.

Shall I marry?

Trouil.

I have no hand in it.

Pan.

Then shall I not marry?

299 Trouil.

I cannot help it.

Pan.
 359

If I never marry, I shall never be a Cuckold,

Trouil.

I thought so.

Pan.

But put the case that I be married.

Trouil.

Where shall we put it?

Pan.

Admit it be so then, and take my meaning in that sence.

Trouil.

I am otherways employed.

Pan.

By the Death of a Hog, and Mo|ther of a Toad, O Lord, if I durst ha|zard upon a little Fling at the
swearing Game, though privily and under Thumb, it would lighten the Burthen of my Heart, and
ease my Lights and Reins exceeding|ly; a little Patience nevertheless is requi|site. Well then, if I
marry, I shall be a Cuckold.

Trouil.

One would say so.

Pan.

Yet if my Wife prove a vertu|ous, wise, discreet and chaste Woman, I shall never be Cuckolded.
 360

Trouil.

I think you speak congruously.

Pan.

Hearken.

Trouil.

As much as you will.

Pan.

Will she be discreet and chaste? This is the only Point I would be resolved in?

Trouil.

I question it.

Pan.

You never saw her?

Trouil.

Not that I know of.

300 Pan.

Why do you then doubt of that which you know not?

Trouil.

For a Cause.
 361

Pan.

And if you should know her.

Trouil.

Yet more.

Pan.

Page, my pretty little Darling, take here my Cap, I give it thee: Have a care you do not break the
Spectacles that are in it; go down to the lower Court: Swear there half an hour for me, and I shall
in compensation of that Favour swear hereafter for thee as much as thou wilt. But who shall
Cuckold me?

Trouil.

Some body.

Pan.

By the Belly of the wooden Horse at Troy, Master Somebody, I shall bang, be|lam thee, and claw
thee well for thy la|bour.

Trouil.

You say so.

Pan.

Nay, nay, that Nick in the dark Celler, who hath no White in his Eye, carry me quite away with
him, if, in that case, whensoever I go abroad from the Palace of my Domestick Residence, I do
not with as much Circumspection, as they use to ring Mares in our Country to keep them from
being sallied by Stoned Horses, clap a Bergamasco Lock upon my Wife.

301 Trouillogan.

Talk better.
 362

Panurge.

It is Bien chien chié chanté, well cacked, and cackled; shitten, and sung in matter of Talk: Let us
resolve on some|what.

Trouillogan.

I do not gainsay it.

Panurge.

Have a little patience, seeing I cannot on this side draw any Blood of you. I will try, if with the
Launcet of my Judgment, I be able to bleed you in another Vein. Are you married, or are you
not?

Trouillogan.

Neither the one nor the o|ther, and both together.

Panurge.

O the good God help us; by the Death of a Buffle-ox, I sweat with the toyl and travel that I am
put to, and find my Digestion broke off, disturbed, and interrupted for all my Phrenes,
Meta|phrenes, and Diaphragmes, Back, Belly, Mid|rif, Muscles, Veins, and Sinews are held in a
suspence, and for a while discharged from their proper Offices, to stretch forth their several
Powers and Abilities, for Incor|nifistibulating, and laying up into the Ham|per of my
Understanding, your various Sayings and Answers.

Trouillogan.

I shall be no hinderer there|of.

Panurge.

Tush, for shame: our faithful Friend, speak, Are you married?

302 Trouillogan.
 363

I think so.

Panurge.

You were also married before you had this Wife.

Trouillogan.

It is possible.

Panurge.

Had you good Luck in your First Marriage?

Trouillogan.

It is not impossible.

Panurge.

How thrive you with this Se|cond Wife of yours?

Trouillogan.

Even as it pleaseth my Fa|tal Destiny.

Panurge.

But what in good earnest? tell me: Do you prosper well with her?

Trouillogan·

It is likely

Panurge.
 364

Come on, in the Name of God: I vow by the Burthen of Saint Christopher, that I had rather
undertake the fetching of a Fart forth of the Belly of a dead Ass, then to draw out of you a
positive and determinate Resolution: yet shall I be sure at this time to have a snatch at you, and
get my Claws over you. Our trusty Friend, let us shame the Devil of Hell, and confess the verity:
Were you ever a Cuckold? I say, you who are here, and not that other you who playeth be|low in
the Tennis-Court?

Trouillogan.

No, if it was not predesti|nated.

303 Panurge.

By the Flesh, Blood, and Body, I swear, reswear, forswear, abjure, and re|nounce, he evades and
avoids, shifts, and escapes me, and quite slips and winds him|self out of my Gripes and Clutches.

At these words Gargantua arose, and said, Praised be the good God in all things, but especially
for bringing the World in|to that heighth of Refinedness, beyond what it was when I first came to
be ac|quainted therewith, that now the Learn|edst and most Prudent Philosophers are not
ashamed to be seen entring in at the Porches and Frontispieces of the Schools of the Pyrronian,
Aporetick, Sceptick, and Eph[...]ctick Sects: Blessed be the Holy Name of God, veritably, it is
like henceforth to be found an Enterprize of much more ea|sie undertaking, to catch Lyons by the
Neck, Horses by the Main, Oxen by the Horns· Bulls by the Muzzle, Wolves by the Tail, Goats
by the Beard, and flying Birds by the Feet, then to intrap such Philosophers in their words.
Farewel, my worthy, dear, and honest Friends.

When he had done thus speaking, he withdrew himself from the Company; Pantagruel, and
others with him would have followed and accompanied him, but he would not permit them so to
do. No sooner was Gargantua departed out of the 304 Banquetting-Hall, then that Pantagruel
said to the invited Guests: Plato's Timee, at the Beginning always of a solemn Festi|val
Convention, was wont to count those that were called thereto; we on the con|trary, shall at the
Closure and End of this Treatment, reckon up our Number, One, Two, Three; Where is the
Fourth? I miss my Friend Bridlegoose: Was not he sent for? Epistemon answered, That he had
been at his House to bid and invite him; but could not meet with him: for that a Messenger from
the Parliament of Mirlingois, in Mirlingues, was come from him, with a Writ of Summons, to
cite and warn him personally to appear before the Reverend Senators of the High Court there, to
vindicate and justifie himself at the Bar, of the Crime of Prevarication laid to his charge, and to
be peremptorily instanced against him in a certain De|cree, Judgment, or Sentence lately
award|ed, given and pronounced by him: and that therefore he had taken Horse, and departed in
great hast from his own House; to the end, that without peril or danger of falling into a default, or
contu|macy, he might be the better able to keep the prefixed and appointed time.

I will (quoth Pantagruel) understand how that matter goeth; it is now above 305 Forty Years,
that he hath been constantly the Judge of Fonsbeton: during which space of time, he hath given
 365

Four thou|sand Definitive Sentences: of Two thou|sand three hundred and nine whereof,
al|though Appeal was made by the Parties whom he had judicially condemned from his inferiour
Judicatory, to the Supream Court of the Parliament of Mirlingois, in Mirlingues they were all of
them never|theless confirmed, ratified and approved of by an Order, Decree, and final Sen|tence
of the said Sovereign Court, to the casting of the Appellants, and utter over|throw of the Suits
wherein they had been foiled at Law, for ever and a day: that now in his Old Age he should be
perso|nally summoned· who in all the foregoing time of his Life, hath demeaned himself so
unblamably in the Discharge of the Office and Vocation he had been called unto; it cannot
assuredly be, that such a change hath happened without some notorious Misfortune and Disaster:
I am resolved to help and assist him in Equity and Justice to the uttermost extent of my power
and ability. I know the Malice, Despight, and Wickedness of the World to be so much more now-
a-days exaspered, increa|sed, and aggravated by what it was not long since, that the best Cause
that is, how 306 just and equitable soever it be, standeth in great need to be succoured, aided and
supported. Therefore presently, from this very instant forth, do I purpose, till I see the event and
closure thereof, most heed|fully to attend and wait upon it, for [...]ar of some under-hand tricky
Surprizal, [...]|villing, Pettifoggery, or fallacious Qui[...]ks in Law, to his detriment, hurt, or
disad|vantage.

Then Dinner being done, and the Ta|bles drawn and removed, when Pantagruel had very
cordially and affectionately thanked his invited Guests, for the Favour which he had enjoyed of
their Company, he presented them with several rich and costly Gifts, such as Jewels, Rings set
with precious Stones, Gold and Silver Vessels, with a great deal of other sort of Plate be|sides;
and lastly, taking of them all his Leave, retired himself into an inner Cham|ber.

307

CHAP. XXXVII. How Pantagruel perswaded Panurge to take Counsel of a Fool.

WHen Pantagruel had withdrawn himself, he by a little sloping Window in one of the Galleries,
percei|ved Panurge in a Lobbey not far from thence, walking alone, with the Gesture, Carriage,
and Garb of a fond Dotard, ra|ving, wagging, and shaking his Hands, dandling, lolling, and
nodding with his Head, like a Cow bellowing for her Calf; and having then called him nearer,
spoke unto him thus: You are at this present (as I think) not unlike to a Mouse in|tangled in a
snare, who the more that she goeth about to rid and unwind herself out of the Gin wherein she is
caught, by en|deavouring to clear and deliver her feet from the Pitch whereto they stick, the
foulier she is bewrayed with it, and the more strongly pestered therein; even so is it with you: for
the more that you la|bour, strive, and inforce your se[...]f to dis|incumber, 308 incumber, and
extricate your Thoughts out of the implicating Involutions and Fetterings of the grievous and
lamentable Gins and Springs of Anguish and Perplexi|ty; the greater difficulty there is in the
relieving of you, and you remain faster bound then ever: nor do I know or the removal of this
Inconveniency, any Re|medy but one.

Take heed; I have often heard it said in a Vulgar Proverb, The Wise may be in|structed by a Fool.
Seeing the Answers and Responses of sage and judicious Men, have in no manner of way
 366

satisfied you, take Advice of some Fool; and possibly by so doing, you may come to get that
Councel which will be agreeable to your own Heart's desire and contentment. You know how by
the Advice and Councel and Prediction of Fools, many Kings, Prin|ces, States, and
Commonwealths have been preferved, several Battels gained, and di|vers doubts of a most
perplexed Intricacy resolved: I am not so diffident of your Memory, as to hold it needful to
refresh it with a Quotation of Examples; nor do I so far undervalue your Judgment, but that I
think it will acquiesce in the Reason of this my subsequent Discourse.

309 As he who narrowly takes heed to what concerns the dextrous Management of his private
Affairs, domestick Businesses, and those Adoes which are confined within the streight-lac'd
compass of one Family: who is attentive, vigilant, and active in the oeconomick Rule of his own
House; whose frugal Spirit never strays from home; who loseth no occasion, whereby he may
purchase to himself more Riches, and build up new Heaps of Treasure on his former Wealth; and
who knows wa|rily how to prevent the Inconveniencies of Poverty, is called a worldly Wise Man,
though perhaps in the Second Judgment of the Intelligences which are above, he be esteemed a
Fool. So on the contrary, is he most like (even in the thoughts of all Coelestial Spirits) to be not
only sage, but to presage Events to come by Divine In|spiration, who laying quite aside those
Cares which are conducible to his Body, or his Fortunes, and as it were departing from himself,
rids all his Senses of Ter|rene Affections, and clears his Fancies of those plodding Studies, which
harbour in the Minds of Thriving Men: all which Neglects of Sublunary Things are vulgarly
imputed Folly.

After this manner, the Son of Picus, King of the Latins, that great Southsayer 310 Faunus, was
called Fatuus, by the witless Rabble of the common People. The like we dail[...] see practised
amongst the Co|mick Players, whose Drammatick Rolls, in distribution of the Personages,
appoint the acting of the Fool to him who is the wisest of the Troop. In approbation al|so of this
fashion the Mathematicians allow the very same Horoscope to Princes, and to Sots. Whereof a
right pregnant instance by them is given in the Nativities of Ae|neas and Choraebus; the latter of
which two is by Euphorion said to have been a Fool: and yet had with the former the same
Aspects, and heavenly Genethlick In|fluences.

I shall not, I suppose, swerve much from the purpose in hand, if I relate unto you, what Ihon
Andrew said upon the Return of a Papal Writ, which was directed to the Mayor of Rochel; and
Burgesses after him by Panorm, upon the same Pontifical Ca|non; Barbatia, on the Pandects,
and re|cently by Iason, in his Councels, con|cerning Seyny Ihon the noted Fool of Paris, and
Caillets fore-great Grandfather. The Case is this:

At Paris, in [...] Roast-meat Cookery of the Petit [...], before the Cook-Shop of one [...] Roast-
meat Sellers of that Lane, a [...] hungry Porter was 311 eating his Bread, after he had by Parcels
kept it a while above the Reek and Steam of a fat Goose on the Spit, turn|ing at a great Fire, and
found it so be|smoaked with the Vapour, to be savoury; which the Cook observing, took no
no|tice, till after having ravined his Penny Loaf, whereof no Morsel had been un|smoakified, he
was about discamping and going away; but by your leave, as the Fellow thought to have departed
thence shot-free, the Master-Cook laid hold upon him by the Gorget, demand|ed payment for the
Smoak of his Roast-meat. The Porter answered, that he had sustained no loss at all; that by what
he had done there was no Diminution made of the Flesh, that he had taken nothing of his, and
 367

that therefore he was not in|debted to him in any thing: As for the Smoak in question, that,
although he had not been there, it would howsoever have been evaporated: besides that, before
that time it had never been seen nor heard, that Roast-meat Smoak was sold upon the Streets of
Paris. The Cook hereto replied, That he was not obliged nor any way bound to feed and nourish
for nought a Porter whom he had never seen before with the Smoak of his Roast-meat; and
thereupon swore, that if he 312 would not forthwith content and satisfie him with present
Payment for the Repast which he had thereby got, that he would take his crooked Staves from off
his Back; which instead of having Loads thereafter laid upon them, should serve for Fuel to his
Kitchin Fires. Whilst he was going about so to do, and to have pulled them to him by one of the
bottom Rungs, which he had caught in his Hand, the sturdy Porter got out of his Gripes, drew
forth the knotty Cudgel, and stood to his own Defence. The Altercation waxed hot in Words,
which moved the gaping Hoydons of the sottish Parisians to run from all parts thereabouts to see
what the issue would be of that babling Strife and Contention. In the interim of this Di|spute, to
very good purpose Seiny Ihon the Fool and Citizen of Paris, hapned to be there, whom the Cook
perceiving, said to the Porter, Wilt thou refer and submit unto the noble Seiny Ihon, the Decision
of the Difference and Controversie which is betwixt us? Yes, by the Blood of a Goose, answered
the Porter, I am content. Seiny Ihon the Fool, finding that the Cook and Porter had compromised
the Determina|tion of their Variance and Debate to the Discretion of his Award and Arbitriment;
after that the Reasons on either side 313 whereupon was grounded the mutual fierceness of their
brawling Jar had been to the full displayed and laid open before him, commanded the Porter to
draw out of the Fab of his Belt a piece of Money, if he had it. Whereupon the Porter
im|mediately without delay, in Reverence to the Authority of such a Judicious Um|pire, put the
tenth part of a Silver Phillip into his hand. This little Phillip Seiny Ihon took, then set it on his
Left Shoul|der, to try by feeling if it was of a suf|ficient weight; after that, laying it on the palm
of his hand he made it ring and tingle, to understand by the Ear if it was of a good Alloy in the
Metal where|of it was composed: Thereafter he put it to the Ball or Apple of his Left Eye, to
ex|plore by the sight if it was well stamped and marked; all which being done, in a profound
Silence of the whole doltish People, who were there Spectators of this Pageantry, to the great
Hope of the Cooks, and Despair of the Porters Pre|valency in the Suit that was in agitation, he
finally caused the Porter to make it sound several times upon the Stall of the Cooks Shop. Then
with a Presidential Majesty holding his Bable (Scepter-like) in his Hand, muffling his Head with
a Hood of Martern Skins, each side where|of 314 had the resemblance of an Apes Face,
sprucified up with Ears of pasted Paper, and having about his Neck a bucked Ruff, raised,
furrowed, and ridged, with Ponting Sticks of the shape and fashion of small Organ Pipes; he first
with all the force of his Lungs Coughed two or three times, and then with an audible Voice
pronounced this following Sentence, The Court declareth, that the Porter, who ate his Bread at
the Smoak of the roast, hath ci|villy paid the Cook with the sound of his Mo|ney: And the said
Court Ordaineth, that every one return to his own home, and attend his proper business, without
Cost and Charges, and for a Cause. This Ver|dict, Award and Arbitriment of the Pa|risian Fool,
did appear so equitable, yea, so admirable to the aforesaid Doctors, that they very much doubted,
if the matter had been brought before the Sessions for Iu|stice of the said place, or that the Judges
of the Rota at Rome had been Umpires therein; or yet that the Areopagites them|selves had been
the Deciders thereof, if by any one part, or all of them together, it had been so judicially
sententiated and awarded. Therefore advise if you will be counselled by a Fool.
 368

315

CHAP. XXXVIII. How Triboulet is set forth and blazed by Pantagruel and Panurge.

BY my Soul, quoth Panurge, that Over|ture pleaseth me exceedingly well; I will therefore lay
hold thereon, and em|brace it. At the very motioning thereof my very Right Entral seemeth to be
wide|ned and enlarged, which was but just now hard bound, contracted and costive: but as we
have hitherto made choice of the purest and most refined Cream of Wisdom and Sapience for our
Counsel, so would I now have to preside and bear the prime Sway in our Consultation, as were a
Fool in the supream degree. Triboulet (quoth Pantagruel) is compleatly foolish, as I conceive.
Yes truly (answered Pa|nurge) he is properly and totally a Fool, a

Pantagruel. Panurge.
Fatal f. Jovial f.
Natural f. Mercurial f.
Celectial f. Lunatick f.
316 Erratick f. Ducal f.
Excentrick f. Common f.
Aetherial and Juno|nian f. Lordly f.
Palatin f.
Arctick f. Principal f.
Heroick f. Pretorian f.
Gemial f. Ellected f.
Inconstant f. Courtly f.
Earthly f. Primipilary f.
Solacious and spor|ting f. Triumphant f.
Vulgar f.
Jocund and wan|ton f. Domestick f.
Exemplary s.
Pimpled f. Rare outlandish f.
Freckled f. Satrapal f.
Bell-tinging f. Civil f.
Laughing and lech|erous f. Popular f.
Familiar f.
Nimming and fil|ching f. Notable f.
Favourized f.
Unpressed f. Latinized f.
First broached f. Ordinary f.
 369

Augustal f. Transcendent f.
Cesarine f. Rising f.
Imperial f. Papal f.
Royal f. Consistorian f.
Patriarchal f. Conclavist f.
Original f. Bullist f.
Loyal f. Synodal f.
317 Episcopal f. Doting and raving f.
Doctoral f. Singular and sur|passing f.
Monachal f.
Fiscal f. Special and excel|ling f.
Extravagant f.
Writhed f. Metaphysical f.
Canonical f. Scatical f.
Such another f. Predicamental and Catagorick f.
Graduated f.
Commensal f. Predicable and e|nunciatory f.
Primolicentiated f.
Trainbairing f. Decumane and Su|perlative f.
Supererrogating f.
Collateral f. Dutiful and offici|ous f.
Haunch and side f.
Nestling, ninny and youngling f.Optical and perspe|ctive f.
Flitting, giddy and unsteddy f. Algoristick f.
Algebraical f.
Brancher, novice and Cockney f. Cabalistical & Mas|soretical f.
Hagard, cross and froward f. Talmudical f.
Algamalized f.
Gentle, mild and tractable f. Compendious f.
Abbreviated f.
Mail-coated f. Hyperbolical f.
Pilfring and pur|loining f. Anatomastical f.
Allegorical f.
Tail-grown f. Tropological f.
Gray-peckled f.
318 Pleonasmical f. Micher pincrust f.
Capital f. Heteroclit f.
Hair brained f. Summist f.
 370

Cordial f. Abbridging f.
Intimate f. Morrish f.
Hepatick f. Leaden-sealed f.
Cushotten and swil|ling f. Mandatory f.
Compassionate f.
Splenetick f. Titulary f.
Windy f. Crooching, showk|ing, ducking f.
Ligitimate f.
Azymathal f. Grim, stern, harsh, and wayward f.
Almicautarized f.
Proportioned f. Well-hung & tim|bred f.
Chinnified f.
Swollen and puffed up f. Ill-clawed, pounced and pawed f.
Overcockrifed lid and lified f. Well-stoned f.
Crabbed and un|pleasing f.
Corallery f.
Eastern f. Winded and tain|ted f.
Sublime f.
Crimson f. Kitchin-haunting f.
Ingrained f. Lofty and stately f.
City f. Spitrack f.
Basely acoutred f. Architrave f.
Mast-headed f. Pedestal f.
Modal f. Tetragonal f.
Second notial f. Renowned f.
319 Chearful and bux|om f. Reumatick f.
Flaunting and brag|gadochio f.
Solemn f.
Annual f. Egregious f.
Festival f. Humorous and ca|pricious f.
Recreative f.
Boorish and coun|terfeit f. Rude, gross and ab|surd f.
Pleasant f. Large measured f.
Priviledged f. Bable f.
Rustical f. Down-right f.
Proper and peculi|ar f. Broad-listed f.
Downsical-bear|ing f.
Ever ready f.
 371

Diapatonal f. Stale and over|worn f.

Resolute f.
Hieroglyphical f. Sawcy and swagger|ing f.
Authentick f.
Worty f. Full bulked f.
Precious f. Gallant and vain|glorious f.
Fanatick f.
Fantastical f. Gorgeous and gaw|dy f.
Symphatiok f.
Panick f. Continual and in|termitting f.
Limbicked and di|stilled f.
Rebasing & round|ling f.
Comportable f.
Wretched & heart|less f. Prototypal and pre|cedenting f.
320 Fooded f. Prating f.
Thick and three|fold f. Catechetick f.
Cacodoxical f.
Damasked f. Meridional f.
Fearny f. Nocturnal f.
Unleavened f. Occidental f.
Barytonant f. Trifling f.
Pink and spot-pou|dered f. Astrological and Fi|gure-flinging f.
Musket-proof f. Cenethliack & Ho|roscopal f.
Pedantick f.
Strouting f. Knavish f.
Wood f. Idiot f.
Greedy f. Blockish f.
Senseless f. Beetle-headed f.
Godderlich f. Crotesk f.
Obstinate f. Impertinent f.
Contradictory f. Quarrelsom f.
Pedagogical f. Unmannerly f.
Daft f. Captious and Sophi|stical f.
Drunken f.
Peevish f. Soritick f.
Prodigal f. Catholoproton f.
Rash f. Hoti and Diots f.
Plodding f. Aplos and Catati f.
 372

Pantagruel.

If there was any reason why at Rome the Quirinal Holiday, of old, was called the Feast of Fools;
I know not 321 why me may not for the like cause insti|tute in France the Tribouletick Festivals,
to be Celebrated and Selemnized over all the Land.

Panurge.

If all Fools carried Cruppers.

Pantagruel.

If he were the God Fatu|us, of whom we have already made men|tion, the Husband of the
Goddess Fatua, his Father would be Good Day, and his Grand-mother Good Even.

Panurge.

If all Fools paced, albeit he be somewhat wry-legged, he would overlay at least a Fathom at
every Rake. Let us go toward him without any further lin|gring or delay, we shall have no doubt
some fine Resolution of him. I am rea|dy to go, and long for the issue of our Progress
impatiently. I must needs (quoth Pantagruel) according to my former Re|solution of him, be
present at Bridlegoose's Tryal: Nevertheless, whilst I shall be upon my Journey towards
Mirelingues, which is on the other side of the River of Loire, I will dispatch Carpalin to bring
a|long with him from Blois the Fool Tribou|let. Then was Carpalin instantly sent away, and
Pantagruel at the same time attended by his Domesticks, Panurge, Epistemon, Po|nocrates, Friar
Ihon, Gymnast, Rysotome, and others, marched forward on the the High Road to Marlingues.

322

CHAP. XXXIX. How Pantagruel was present at the Try|al of Iudge Bridlegoose, who
decided Causes and Controversies in Law, by the Chance and Fortune of the Dice.

ON the Day following, precisely at the Hour appointed, Pantagruel came to Merlingues: At his
Arrival the Presidents, Senators, and Counsellors prayed him to do them the Honour to enter in
with them, to hear the Decision of all the Causes, Ar|guments, and Reasons, which Bridlegoose
in his own Defence would produce, why he had pronounced a certain Sentence a|gainst the
Subsidy-Assessor, Toucheronde; which did not seem very equitable to that Centumviral Court.
Pantagruel very wil|lingly condescended to their desire, and accordingly entring in, found
Bridlegoose sitting within the middle of the Inclosure of the said Court of Justice; who
imme|diately upon the coming of Pantrgruel, ac|companied with the Senatorian Members of that
 373

worshipful Judicatory, arose, went 323 to the Bar, had his Indictment read, and for all his
Reasons, Defences, and Excuses, answered nothing else, but that he was become Old, and that
his Sight of late was very much failed, and become dim|ner then it was wont to be; instancing
therewithal many Miseries and Calami|ties, which Old Age bringeth along with it, and are
concomitant to wrinkled Elders; which not, par Archi d' LXXVI.C. tanta: by reason of which
Infirmity he was not able so distinctly and clearly to discern the Points and Blots of the Dice, as
formerly he had been accustomed to do: whence it might very well have happened, said he, as
old dim-sighted Isaac took Ia|cob for Esau, that I after the same manner, at the Decision of
Causes and Controver|sies in Law, should have been mistaken in taking a Quatre for a Cinque,
or Tre for a Deuce: This, I beseech your Worship (quoth he) to take into your serious
Consideration, and to have the more favourable Opinion of my Uprightness, (notwithstanding the
Prevarication whereof I am accused, in the matter of Toucherondy's Sentence) that at the time of
that Decrees pronouncing, I only had made use of my small Dice; and your Worships (said he)
knew very well, how by the most Authentick Rules of the Law, it is provided, That the
Imperfecti|ons 324 of Nature should never be imputed unto any for Crimes and Transgressions;
as ap|peareth, F. de re Mil. L. qui cum uno F. de Reg. Iur. L. fere F. de aedit. edict. per totum, F.
de term. Mo. L. Divus Adrianus, resol|ved by LU. RO. ML. Si Vero. F. Sol. Mat. And who would
offer to do otherways, should not thereby accuse the Man, but Nature, and the All-seeing
Providence of God, as is evident in L. Maximum Vitium C. de Liber praeter.

What kind of Dice (quoth Trinquamelle, grand President of the said Court) do you mean, my
Friend Bridle-goose? The Dice (quoth Bridlegoose) of Sentences at Law, Decrees, and
peremptory Judgments, A|lea Iudiciorum, whereof is written, Per Doct. 26. qu. 2.Ca. Sors L. nec
emptio F. de contrahen. empt. L. quod debetur. F. de pecu, & ibi Bart. And which your
Worships do as well as I, use, in this glorious Sovereign Court of yours: so do all other righteous
Judges in their Decision of Processes, and Final Determination of Legal Differences, observing
that which hath been said there|of, by D. Henri. Ferraudet. & not. Gl. MC. si de sort. il & L. sed
cum ambo F. de rud. ubi Doc. Where mark, that Chance and Fortune, are good, honest,
profitable and necessary for ending of, and putting a fi|nal closure to Dissensions and Debates in
325 Suits at Law. The same hath more clear|ly been declared by Bal. Barto. & Alex. C.
communia de L. Si duo. But how is it that you do these things? (asked Tirque|mel.) I very briefly
(quoth Bridlegoose) shall answer you, according to the Do|ctrine and Instructions of L.
ampliorem par in refutatoriis C. de Appell. Which is con|form to what is said in Il. 1. L. 2. F.
quod met. cau. gaudent. brevitate moderni. My Practice is therein the same with that of your
other Worships, and as the Custom of the Judicatory requires, unto which our Law commandeth
us to have regard, and by the Rule thereof still to direct and regulate our Actions and Procedures.
Ut not. extra de consuet. C. ex literis, & ibi Iano: for having well and exactly seen, surveyed,
overlooked, reviewed, recognised, read, and read over again, turned and tossed over, seriously
perused and examined the Bills of Complaint, Accusations, Impeach|ments, Indictments,
Warnings, Citations, Summonings, Comparitions, Appearan|ces, Mandates, Commissions,
Delegations, Instructions, Informations, Inquests, Pre|paratories, Productions, Evidences, Proofs,
Allegations, Depositions, cross Speeches, Contradictions, Supplications, Requests, Petitions,
Enquiries, Instruments of the Deposition of Witnesses, Rejoinders, Re|plies, 326 Confirmations
of former Assertions, Duplies, Triplies, Answers to Rejoinders, Writings, Deeds, Reproaches,
disabling of Exceptions taken, Grievances, Salvation-Bills, Re-examination of Witnesses,
Con|fronting of them together, Declarations, Denunciations, Libels, Certificates, Royal Missives,
 374

Letters of Appeal, Letters of At|torney, Instruments of Compulsion, De|linatories, Anticipatories,

Evocations, Mes|sages, Dimissions, Issues, Exceptions, dila|tory Pleas, Demurs, Compositions,
Injun|ctions, Reliefs, Reports, Returns, Confes|sions, Acknowledgments, Exploits, Exe|cutions,
and other such-like Confects and Spiceries, both at the one and the other side, as a good Judge
ought to do, con|form to what hath been noted thereupon. Sper de ordinario. Paragr. 3. & Tit. de
Offi. O. in Paragr. fin. & de prescriptis Praesent· à Parag. 1. I posit on the end of a Table, in my
Closet, all the Poaks and Bags of the Defendant, and then allow unto him the first hazard of the
Dice; according to the usual manner of your other Worships. And it is mentioned, L.
Favorabiliores F. de Reg. Iur. & in d. cum sunt eo. Tit. Lib. 6. which saith, Quum sunt partium
Iura obscura, reo potius favendum est quam actori. That being done, I thereafter lay down upon
the other end of the same Table, the Bags 327 and Sachels of the Plaintiff, (as your other
Worships are accustomed to do) Visum Visu, just over-against one another: for, Opposi[...]a juxta
se potest clarius elucescunt: ut not. in L. Parag. Videamus F. de his qui sunt sui vel alieni juris,
& in L Munerum. Mixta F. de mun. & hon. Then do I likeways, and semblably throw the Dice for
him, and forthwith livre him his chance. But (quoth Trigamelle) my Friend, how come you to
know, understand, and resolve the obscurity of these various and seeming contrary Passages in
Law, which are laid claim to by the Suitors, and pleading Par|ties? Even just (quoth Bridlegoose)
after the fashion of your other Worships: to wit, when there are many Bags on the one side, and
on the other, I then use my little small Dice (after the customary manner of your other Worships)
in obedience to the Law. Semper in stipulationibus F. de Reg. Iur. The Law verified, verifieth
that, Eo tit. semper in obscuris quod minimum est sequi|mur: Canonized in C. in obscuris cod.
Tit. Lib. 6. I have other large great Dice, fair, and goodly ones, which I employ in the fashion
that your other Worships use to do, when the matter is more plain, clear, and liquid: that is to
say, when there are fewer Bags. But when you have done all these fine things (quoth Tri|quamel)
328 how do you, my Friend, award your Decrees, and pronounce Judgment? Even as your other
Worships (answered Bridlegoose) for I give out Sentence in his favour, unto whom hath befallen
the best Chance by Dice; Judiciary, Tribunian, Pretorial, what comes first: So our Laws
command. F. qui pot. in Pig. L. Potior. L. Creditor. C. de Cons. L. 1. & de Reg. Iur on U. Qui
prior est jure.

CHAP. XL. How Bridlegoose giveth Reasons, why he looked upon those Law-Actions which
he decided by the Chance of the Dice.

YEa, but (quoth Trinquamel) my Friend, seeing it is by the Lot, Chance, and Throw of the Dice
that you award your Judgments and Sentences, why do not you livre up these fair Throws and
Chances the very same Day and Hour, without any further procrastination or delay, that the
controverting Party-pleaders appear before you? To what use can those Wri|tings 329 serve you,
those Papers, and other Procedures contained in the Bags and Poaks of the Law-Suitors? To the
very same use (quoth Bridle-goose) that they serve your other Worships. They are behooful unto
me, and serve my turn in three things very exquisite, requisite, and authentical. First, For
Formality-sake, the omission whereof, that it maketh all what|ever is done, to be of no force nor
value, is excellently well proved, by Spec. tit. de inst. edi. & tit. de rescript. praesent. Besides,
that it is not unknown to you, who have had many more Experiments thereof then I, how
 375

oftentimes in Judicial Proceed|ings, the Formalities utterly destroy the Materialities and
Substances of the Causes and Matters agitated; for Forma mutata, mutatur substantia F. ad exh.
L. Iulianus F. ad. leg. Pals. si is qui Quadraginta. Et extra de deci. C. ad audientiam. Et de Cel.
Miss. C. in quadam.

Secondly, They are useful and steadable to me, (even as unto your other Worships) in lieu of
some other honest and healthful Exercise. The late Master Othoman Vadat, a prime Physician, as
you would say, Cod. de Comit. & Archi. Lib. 12. hath frequent|ly told me, That the lack and
default of Bodily Exercise, is the chief, if not the sole and only cause of the little Health, and 330
short Lives of all Officers of Justice, such as your Worships and I am. Which Ob|servation was
singularly well, before him, noted and remarked by Bartholus in Lib. 1. C. de Sent. quae pro eo
quod: therefore is it, that the Practice of such-like Exercitations is appointed to be laid hold on by
your other Worships, and consequently not to be denied unto me, who am of the same
Profession: Quia accessurum naturam sequi|tur principalis, de Reg. Iur. L. 7. & L cum
principalis, & L. nihil dolo F. eo tit. F. de fide juss. L. fide Iuss. & extra de Officio de L. Cap. 1.
Let certain honest, and recreative Sports and Plays of Corporeal Exercises be allowed and
approved of; and so far, Ut omnes obed. in prius Coll. 7. & F. de prae|script. ver L. gratuitatem
& L. 1. Cod. de Spe. L. 11. Such also is the Opinion of D. Thom. in Secunda, Secundae Q. 168.
Quoted in very good purpose, by D. at de Rosa; who, Fuit magnus Practicus, and a solemn
Doctor, as Barbaria attesteth in Principiis Consil. Wherefore the Reason is evidently and clearly
deduced, and set down before us, in Gloss. in praemio F. par ne autem tertii. Interpone tuis
interdum gaudia curis. In very deed, one, in the Year a Thousand four hundred fourscore and
sixth, having a Bu|siness concerning the Portion and Inheri|tance of a younger Brother,
depending in 331 the Court and Chamber of the Four High Treasurers of France, whereinto
assoon as ever I got leave to enter by a Pecuniary Permission of the Usher thereof, as your other
Worships know very well, that Pe|cunia obediant omnia; and there says, Bal|dus, in L.
Singularia. F. si cert. pet. & lol. in L. receptitia. Cod. de constit. pecuni. & card. in cler. 1. de
Baptism. I found them all re|creating and diverting themselves at the Play called Musse, either
before or after Dinner; to me, truly, it is a thing altoge|ther indifferent, whether of the two it was,
provided that Hic not. that the Game of the Musse is honest, healthful, ancient, and lawful: A
Muscho inventore, de quo Cod. de perhaere L. si post motam: & Muscarii. Such as play and
sport it at the Musse, are excu|sable in and by Law, Lib. 1. C. de excus. artific. lib. 10. And at the
very same time was Master Tielman Picquet, one of the Players of that Game of Musse: there is
nothing that I do better remember; for he laughed heartily, when his Fellow-Members of the
aforesaid Judicial Cham|ber, spoiled their Caps in swinging of his Shoulders; he, nevertheless,
did even then say unto them, that the banging and flap|ping of him to the wast, and havock of
their Caps, should not at their return from the Palace to their own Houses, ex|cuse 332 them from
their Wives: Part 1. extra de praesum. & ibi glos. Now resolutory lo|quendo, I should say,
according to the stile and phrase of your other Worships, that there is no Exercise, Sport, Game,
Play, nor Recreation in all this Palatine, Pala|cial, or Parliamentary World, more ario|matizing
and fragrant, then to empty and void Bags and Purses: turn over Papers and Writings: quote
Margins and Backs of Scrolls and Rolls; fill Panniers, and take inspection of Causes: Ex Bart. &
Ioan. de prad. in L. falsa de condit. & De|most. F.

Thirdly, I consider as your own Wor|ships use to do, that Time ripeneth and bring|eth all things to
maturity, that by Time every thing cometh to be made manifest and patent, and that Time is the
 376

Father of Truth and Vertue. Gloss. in I. cod. de Ser|vit. authent. de restit. & ea quae pa. & spe
tit. de requis. cons. Therefore is it, that after the manner and fashion of your other Worships, I
defer, protract, delay, pro|long, intermit, surcease, pause, linger, su|spend, prorogate, drive out,
wyre-draw, and shift off the Time of giving a Defini|tive Sentence, to the end that the Suit or
Process, being well vanned and winnow|ed, tost and canvassed to and fro; nar|rowly, precisely,
and nearly garbelled, 333 sifted, searched and examined: and on all Hands exactly argued,
disputed and deba|ted, may, by success of Time come at last to its full ripeness and maturity: by
means whereof, when the fatal hazard of the Dice ensueth thereupon, the Parties cast or
con|demned by the said Aleatory Chance, will with much greater patience, and more mildly and
gently endure, and bear up the disastrous Load of their Misfortune, then if they had been
sentenced at their first arrival unto the Court: as, Not. gl. F. de excus. tut. L. tria onera. Portatur
leviter quod portas quis{que} libenter. On the other part, to pass a Decree or Sentence, when the
action is raw, crude, green, unripe, and unprepared as at the beginning, a danger would ensue of
a no less inconve|niency, then that which the Physicians have been wont to say, befalleth to him
in whom an Imposthume is pierced before it be ripe; or unto any other whose Bo|dy is purged of
a strong predominating Humor, before its digestion: for as it is written, In Authent. haec consist.
in nos. de constit. princip. So is the same repeated, In gloss. in C. caeterum extr. quod
medicamenta morbis exhibent. hoc jura negotiis. Nature furthermore admonisheth and teacheth
us, to gather and reap, eat and feed on Fruits when they are ripe, and not before. In|stit. 334 de re
di paragr. is ad quem & F. de acti|on. empt. L. Iulianus. To marry likeways our Daughters when
they are ripe, and no sooner. F. de donation inter vir. & ux|or. L. cum his status paragr. si quia
sponsa & 21 q. C. sic ut dicit. gl.

Iam matura thoro plenis adoleverat annis Virginitas.

And in a word, she instructeth us to do nothing of any considerable Importance, but in a full
maturity and ripeness. 23 q. 2 paragr. ult. & 23. de C. ultimo.

CHAP. XLI. How Bridlegoose relateth the History of the Reconcilers of Parties at va|riance
in matters of Law.

I Remember to the same purpose (quoth Bridlegoose, in continuing his Discourse) that in the
time when at Poictiers I was a Student of Law under Crocadium Iuris, there was at Smerva one
Peter Dandin, a very honest Man, careful Labourer of 335 the Ground, fine Singer in a Church-
Desk, of good Repute and Credit, and older than the most aged of all your Worships; who was
wont to say, that he had seen the great and goodly Good Man the Council of Lateran, with his
wide and broad brimmed Red Hat: As also, that he had beheld and looked upon the fair and
beautiful Pragmatical Sanction, his Wife, with her huge Rosary or Pate|notrian Chapelet of Jeat-
beads, hanging at a large Sky-coloured Ribbond. This honest Man compounded, attoned and
a|greed more Differencies, Controversies and Variances at Law than had been de|termined,
voided and finished during his time in the whole Palace of Poictiers, in the Auditory of
Montmorillon, and in the Town-house of the old Partenay. This amicable Disposition of his
 377

rendred him Venerable, and of great Estimation, Sway, Power and Authority throughout all the
neighbouring places of Chauvinie, Nouaille, Vivonne, Mezeaux, Estables, and other bordering
and circumjacent Towns, Vil|lages, and Hamlets: All their Debates were pacified by him; he put
an end to their brabling Suits at Law, and wrang|ling Differences. By his Advice and Counsels
were Accords and Reconcile|ments no less firmly made, than if the 336 Verdict of a Soveraign
Judge had been interposed therein, although, in very deed, he was no Judge at all, but a right
honest Man, as you may well conceive. Arg. in L. si Anius F. de Iure jur. & de ver|bis obligatorii
sit continuus.

There was not a Hog killed within three Parishes of him, whereof he had not some part of the
Haslet and Puddings. He was almost every day invited either to a Marriage, Banket, Christning
Feast, an upri|sing or Women-Churching Treatment, a Birth-day's Anniversary Solemnity, a
mer|ry Frollick Gossiping, or otherways to some delicious Entertainment in a Ta|vern, to make
some Accord and Agree|ment between Persons at odds, and in de|bate with one another. Remark
what I say; for he never yet setled and com|pounded a Difference betwixt any two at variance,
but he streight made the Par|ties agreed and pacified, to drink together, as a sure and infallible
Token and Symbol of a perfect and compleatly well cemen|ted Reconciliation, sign of a sound
and sincere Amity and proper Mark of a new Joy and Gladness to follow thereupon. Ut Not. per
F. de Peri & com. rei. ven. L. 1. He had a Son whose Name was Tenot Dan|din, a lusty young
sturdy frisking Royster, so help me God, who likewise (in imita|tion 337 of his Peace-making
Father, would have undertaken and medled with the taking up of Variances, and deciding of
Controversies betwixt disagreeing and contentious Parties, Pleaders as you know.

Saepe solet similis filius esse patri.

Et sequitur levitèr filia matris iter.

Ut ait gloss. vi, quaest. I. C. siquis g. de cons. disc. v. C. 2. fin. & est. int. per dict. cod. de im|pu.
& aliis substit. L. vir. & L. Legitimae. F. de stat. hom. gloss. in L. quod si nolit. de adi L.
quisquis C. ad leg. Iure Majest. excipio filius à moniali susceptos ex Monacho per gloss. in C.
impudicas 27 quaestione. And such was his Confidence to have no worse Success than his
Father, he assumed unto himself the Title of Law-strife-setler. He was like|ways in these
pacificatory Negotiations so active and vigilant; for Vigilantibus Iu|ra subveniunt ex L. pupillus
F. quae in fraud. cred. & ibi. L. non enim & instit. m. proaem. That when he had smelt, heard,
and ful|ly understood; ut F. si quando paufec. L. Agaso q. in verbo offecit, id est nasum ad
cu|lum posuit. That there was any where in the Country a debatable matter at Law, he would
incontinently thrust in his Ad|vice, and so forwardly intrude his Opini|on in the business, that he
made no Bones 338 of making offer, and taking upon him to decide it, how difficult soever it
might happen to be, to the full Contentment and Satisfaction of both Parties: It is written, Qui
non laborat non manducat. And the said Gl. F. de damn. infect. L. si quam|vis: And Currere plus
que lae pas vetulam compellit egestas. Gloss. F. de lib. agnosco. L. si quis pro quo facit. L. si
plures C. de Codd in|cert. But so huge great was his Misfor|tune in this his Undertaking, that he
ne|ver composed any difference, how little soever you may imagine it might have been, but that
instead of reconciling the Parties at odds, he did incense, irritate and exasperate them to a higher
point of Dissention and Enmity than ever they were at before. Your Worships know I doubt not
 378

that,
Sermo datur cunctis animi sapientia paucis.

Gl. F. de alien in mun. caus. fa. lib. 2. This ad|ministred unto the Tavern-keepers, Wine-drawers
and Vintners of Smerva an occasion to say, that under him they had not in the space of a whole
year so much Reconciliation-Wine (for so were they pleased to call the good Wine of Leguge) as
under his Father they had done in one half hours time. It hapned a little while thereafter, that 339
he made a most heavy regret thereof to his Father, attributing the Causes of his bad Success in
pacificatory Enterprizes to the Perversity, Stubbornness, froward, cross and backward
Inclinations of the People of his time, roundly, boldly and irreverently upbraiding, that if but a
score of Years before the World had been so wayward, obstinate, pervicacious, impla|cable, and
out of all Square, Frame and Order as it was then, his Father had ne|ver attained to, and acquired
the Honour and Title of Strife-appeaser, so irrefraga|bly, inviolably and irrevocably as he hath
done; in doing whereof Tenot did hei|nously transgress against the Law which prohibiteth
Children to reproach the Acti|ons of their Parents. Per gl. & Barth. L. 3. par agr. si quis F. de
cond. ob caus. & au|thent. de Nupt. par sed quod sancitum Col. 3. ment. To this the honest old
Father an|swered thus: My Son Dandin, when Don oportet taketh place, this is the course which
we must trace, Gl. C. de Appel. L. eos etiam: For the Road that you went upon was not the way
to the Fullers Mill, nor in any part thereof was the Form to be found wherein the Hare did sit.
Thou hast not the skill and dexterity of setling and com|posing Differences. Why? Because thou
takest them at the beginning, in the 340 very Infancy and Bud as it were, when they are green,
raw, and indigestible; yet I know handsomly and seatly how to compose and settle them all.
Why? Be|cause I take them at their Decadence, in their Weaning, and when they are pretty well
digested. So saith Gl. dulcior est fru|ctus post multa pericula ductus. L. non morittu|rus C. de
contrahend. & comit. stip. Didst thou ever hear the vulgar Proverb, Hap|py is the Physician
whose coming is desired at the declension of a Disease? For the Sickness being come to a Crisis,
is then upon the decreasing hand, and drawing towards an end, although the Physician should not
repair thither for the Cure thereof; whereby though Nature wholly do the Work, he bears away
the Palm and Praise thereof. My Pleaders after the same man|ner, before I did interpose my
Judgment in the reconciling of them, were waxing faint in their Contestations, their Alterca|tion
Heat was much abated, and in decli|ning from their former Strife, they of themselves inclined to
a firm Accommo|dation of their Differences; because there wanted Fuel to that Fire of burning,
Rancour and despightful Wrangling, whereof the lower sort of Lawyers were the Kindlers: That
is to say, their Pur|ses were emptied of Coin, they had not 341 a Win in their Fab, nor Penny in
their Bag, wherewith to sollicit and present their Actions.

Deficiente pecu deficit omne, nia.

There wanted then nothing but some Brother to supply the place of a Paru|nymph, Braul broker,
Proxenete or Me|diator, who acting his part dextrously, should be the first Broacher of the
Moti|on of an Agreement, for saving both the one and the other Party from that hurt|ful and
pernicious Shame, whereof he could not have avoided the Imputation, when it should have been
said, that he was the first who yielded and spoke of a Re|concilement; and that therefore his
Cause not being good, and being sensible where his Shoe did pinch him, was willing to break the
Ice, and make the greater haste to prepare the way for a Condescend|ment to an amicable and
 379

friendly Treaty. Then was it that I came in pudding time, (Dandin my Son) nor is the fat of
Bacon more relishing to boiled Pease, than was my Verdict then agreeable to them: This was my
Luck, my Profit and good For|tune. I tell thee, my Jolly Son Dandin, that by this Rule and
Method I could set|tle a firm Peace, or at least clap up a Ces|sation 342 of Arms and Truce for
many years to come betwixt the Great King and the Ve|netian State; the Emperor and the
Cantons of Swisserland; the English and the Scots; and betwixt the Pope and the Ferrarians.
Shall I go yet further: Yea, as I would have God to help me, betwixt the Turk and the So|phy, the
Tartars and the Muscoviters. Re|mark well what I am to say unto thee, I would take them at that
very instant nick of time, when both those of the one and the other side should be weary and tired
of making War, when they had voided and emptied their own Cashes and Coffers of all Treasure
and Coin, drained and exhausted the Purses and Bags of their Subjects, sold and morgaged their
Domains and proper Inheritances, and totally wast|ed, spent and consumed the Munition,
Furniture, Provision and Victuals that were necessary for the continuance of a Military
Expedition. There I am sure, by God, or by his Mother, that would they, would they, in spight of
all their Teeths, they should be forced to take a little Respit and Breathing time, to mo|derate the
Fury and cruel Rage of their ambitious Aims. This is the Doctrine in Gl. 37. d. c. si quando.

Odero, si potero, si non invitus amabo.

343

CHAP. XLII. How Suits at Law are bred at first, and how they come afterwards to their
perfect growth.

FOR this Cause (quoth Bridlegoose) go|ing on in his Discourse, I temporise and apply my self to
the Times, as your other Worships use to do, waiting patient|ly for the Maturity of the Process,
full Growth and Perfection thereof in all its Members; to wit, the Writings and the Bags. Arg. in
L. fin. Major. C. commodus, & de cons. de 1. c. solemnitates, & ibi gl. A Suit in Law at its
Production, Birth and first beginning, seemeth to me as unto your other Worships, shapeless,
without Form or Fashion, incompleat, ugly and im|perfect, even as a Bare, at his first coming
into the World, hath neither Hands, Skin, Hair nor Head, but is meerly an inform, rude and ill-
favoured peice and lump of Flesh; and would remain still so, if his Dam out of the abundance of
her Af[...]e|ction to her hopeful Cub, did not with 344 much liking put his Members into that
Figure and shape which Nature had pro|vided for those of an Arctick and Ursinal kind. Ut Not.
Doct. F. ad L. aliquia 2. in si. Just so when I see, as your other Worships do, Processes and Suits
in Law at their first bringing forth, to be num|berless, without shape, deformed and dis|figured;
for that then they consist only of one or two Writings, or Copies of In|struments, through which
Defect they appear unto me as to your other Wor|ships, foul, loathsom, filthy and mis-sha|pen
Beasts. But when there are Heaps of these Legiformal Papers packed, piled, laid up together,
impoaked, insacheled, and put up in Bags, then is it that with a good reason we may term that
Suit, to which, as pieces, parcels, parts, porti|ons and members thereof, they do per|tain and
belong, well-formed and fashion|ed, big limmed, strong set, and in all and each of its Dimensions
most compleatly membred: Because forma dat. esse. rei L. si is qui F. ad leg. falcid. in C. cum
delicta extra de rescript. Barbaria consil. Lib. 2. And be|fore him, Balsus in C. ult. extra decons.
 380

& L. Iulianus exhib. & F. ad L. quaesitum F. de leg· 3. The manner is such as is set down in gl.
p. quaest. 1 C. Paulus.

345 Debile principiam melior fortuna sequetur.

Like your other Worships, also the Sergeants, Catchpoles, Pursevants, Mes|sengers, Summoners,
Apparitors, Ushers, Door-keepers, Pettifoggers, Attorneys, Proctors, Commissioners, Justices of
the Peace, Judge Delegates, Arbitrators, O|verseers, Sequestrators, Advocates, Inquisi|tors,
Jurors, Searchers, Examiners, Notaries, Tabellions, Scribes, Scriveners, Clerks, Preg|natories,
Secondaries, and Expedanean Judges, de quibus tit. est L. 3. C. by sucking very much, and that
exceeding forcibly, and licking at the Purses of the pleading Parties, they, to the Suits already
begot and engendred, form, fashion and frame Head, Feet, Claws, Talons, Beaks, Bills, Teeth,
Hands, Veins, Sinews, Arteries, Muscles, Humours, and so forth, through all the Simulary and
Dissimilary Parts of the whole; which Parts, Particles, Pen|dicles and Appurtenances, are the
Law. poaks and Bags, Gl. de Cons. d. 3. C. acce|pisti qualis vestis erit, talia cornua gerit. Hic
notandum est. That in this respect the Pleaders, Litigants and Law-Suiters are happier than the
Officers, Ministers and Administrators of Justice: For beatus est dare quam accipere. F. Com. L.
3. extra de 346 celcb· Miss. cum Matthae & 24. Quaest. 1. Cap. Od. Gl.
Affectum dantis pensat censura tonantis.
Thus becometh the Action or Process, by their care and industry, to be of a com|pleat and goodly
bulk, well shaped, fra|med, formed, and fashioned according to the Canonical Gloss.
Accipe, sume, cape, sunt verba placentia Papae.
Which Speech hath been more clearly explained by Alb. de Res. in verbo Roma.

Roma manus rodit, quas rodere non valet, odit.

Dantes custodit, non dantes spernit, & odit.
The Reason whereof is thought to be this:
Ad praesens ova, cras pullis sunt meliora.
Ut est Gl. in L. quum H.F. de Transact. Nor is this all, for the inconvenience of the contrary is set
down in H. C. de Allu. L. F.
347 Quum labor in damno est, crescit mortalis egestas.
In confirmation whereof we find, that the true Etymology and Exposition of the word Process is
Purchase, viz. of good store of Money to the Lawyers, and of many Poaks, id est, Prou-Sacks, to
the Pleaders, upon which Subject we have most Coele|stial Quips, Gybes, and Girds.
Litigando jura crescunt, litigando jus ac|quiritur.
Item Gl. in Cap. illud extrem. de praesumpt. & C. de prob. L. instram. L. non Epistolis L. non
nudis.

Et si non prosunt singula, multa juvant.

Yea, but (asked Trinquamelle) how do you proceed, (my Friend) in Criminal Causes, the
culpable and guilty Party being taken and seized upon, Flagrante Crimine? Even as your other
Worships use to do (answer|ed Bridlegoose): First, I permit the Plain|tiff to depart from the
Court, enjoyning him not to presume to return thither, till he preallably, should have taken a
 381

good sound and profound Sleep, which is to 348 serve for the prime Entry and Introduction to
the Legal carrying on of the Business. In the next place, a formal Report is to be made to me of
his having slept. Third|ly, I issue forth a Warrant to convent him before me. Fourthly, He is to
produce a sufficient and authentick Attestation, of his having thoroughly and entirely sleeped,
conform to the Gloss. 22. Quest. 7. Si quis cum.

Quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.

Being thus far advanced in the Forma|lity of the Process, I find that this Con|sopiating Act
engendreth another Act, whence ariseth the articulating of a Mem|ber; that again produceth a
Third Act, fashionative of another Member; which Third bringing forth a Fourth, Procrea|tive of
another Act: New Members in a no fewer Number are shapen and framed, one still breeding, and
begetting another (as Link after Link, the Coat of Mail at length is made) till thus, Piece after
Piece, by little and little, like Information upon Information, the Process be compleatly well
formed, and perfect in all his Mem|bers. Finally, having proceeded this length, I have recourse to
my Dice, nor is it to be thought, that this interruption, re|spit, 349 or interpellation, is by me
occasioned without very good reason inducing me thereunto, and a notable Experience of a most
convincing and irrefragable force.

I remember, on a time, that in the Camp at Stockholm, there was a certain Gascon named
Gratianauld, Native of the Town of Saint Sever, who having lost all his Money at Play, and
consecutively be|ing very angry thereat, as you know, Pe|cunia est alius sanguis ut ait Anto. de
Burtio, MC. accedens 2. extra ut lit. non contest & Bald. in L. si tuis C. de op. Lib. per not. & L.
advocati. C. de advo. diu. Iud. pecunia est vita hominis & optimus fide jusser in necessita|tibus:
Did, at his coming forth of the Gaming-House, in the presence of the whole Company that was
there, with a very loud Voice, speak in his own Lan|guage these following words: Pap. cap. de
bious nillots que maux depipes rous tresire: aresque de pergudes sont les mires bingt, &
quovatre bagnelles, ta pla donne rien pies cruz & Patacts, Scy de Gum de bons aulx, qui boille
trequar ambe Iou à Belsambiz. Find|ing that none would make him any An|swer, he passed from
thence to that part of the Leaguer, where the huff, snuff, honder-sponder, swash-buckling High
Ger|mans were, to whom he renewed these very Terms, provoking them to fight with 350 him;
but all the Return he had from them to his stout Challenge, was only, Der Gasconner that schich,
usz. mitt. cim. iedem zeselage aberer ist genegrer au staclen darum liebem fram ve hend serg au
inverm hausraut. Finding also, that none of that Band of Teutonick Soldiers offered himself to
the Combat; he passed to that Quarter of the Leaguer where the French Free-booting Adventures
were encamped, and reitera|ting unto them, what he had before re|peated to the Dutch Warriours,
challen|ged them likewise to fight with him, and therewithal made some pretty little Gasco|nado
frisking Gambols, to oblige them the more cheerfully and gallantly to cope with him in the Lists
of a Duellizing Engage|ment; but no Answer at all was made un|to him. Whereupon the Gascon
despair|ing of meeting with any Antagonists, de|parted from thence, and laying himself down,
not far from the Pavilions of the grand Christian Cavalier, Crissie fell fast asleep. When he had
throughly sleeped an hour or two, another adventurous and all-hazarding Blade of the Forlorn
Hope of the lavishingly wasting Gamesters, ha|ving also lost all his Moneys, sallied forth with a
Sword in his Hand, of a firm Reso|lution to fight with the aforesaid Gascon, seeing he had lost as
well as he.
 382

351 Ploratur lachrym[...]s amissa pecunia veris.

Saith the Gl. de poenitent. distinct. 2. C. sunt plures. To this effect having made en|quiry and
search for him throughout the whole Camp, and in sequel thereof found him asleep, he said unto
him, Up, ho, good Fellow, in Name of all the Devils of Hell rise up, rise up, get up; I have lost
my Money as well as thou hast done, let us therefore go fight lustily together, grap|ple and
scuffle it to some purpose: Thou may'st see that; and look, my Tuck is no longer then thy Rapier.
The Gascon altogether astonished at his unexpected provocation, without altering his former
Dialect, spoke thus: Cap de Saint Arnault, qu'au segs tu qui me rebeillez? Que mande taberne te
gire: Ho Saint Siobe Cab. de Ga|scoigne tapla do my Iou, quand à quest ta quam me bringu
estae. The ventrous Royster in|viteth him again to the Duel; but the Gascon, without
condescending to his de|sire, said only this: Hepauvres Iet' esqui|nerie ares que son plat reposat:
vene impaur que te pansat comme Iou peusse truquete. Thus in forgetting his loss, he forgot the
eager|ness which he had to fight. In conclusi|on, after that the other had likeways sleeped a little,
they instead of fighting, 352 and possibly killing one another, went joyntly to a Sutler's Tent,
where they drank together very amicably, each upon the pawn of his Sword. Thus by a little
Sleep was pacified the ardent fury of two warlike Champions. There, Gossip, comes the Golden
Word of Ihon Andr. in Cap. ult. de Sent. & rejudic. L. Sexto.

Sedendo, & dormiendo fit anima prudens.

CHAP. XLIII. How Pantagruel excuseth Bridlegoose, in the matter of Sentencing Actions at
Law, by the Chance of the Dice.

WIth this Bridlegoose held his peace. Whereupon Trinquamelle bid them withdraw from the
Court; which accord|ingly was done: and then directed his Di|scourse to Pantagruel, after this
manner. It is fitting (most illustrious Prince) not only by reason of the deep Obligations, wherein
this present Parliament, together with the whole Marquisate of Merlingues, 353 stand bound to
your Royal Highness, for the innumerable Benefits, which as effects of meer Grace, they have
received from your Incomperable Bounty; but for that excellent Wit also, prime Judgment, and
admirable Learning wherewith Almighty God, the Giver of all Good Things, hath most richly
qualified and endowed you, we tender and present unto you the Deci|sion of this new, strange,
and Paradoxical Case of Bridlegoose; who in your presence, to your both hearing and seeing,
hath plainly confessed his final judging and de|terminating of Suits of Law, by the meer Chance
and Fortune of the Dice: there|fore do we beseech you, that you may be pleased to give Sentence
therein, as unto you shall seem most just and equitable. To this Pantagruel answered:
Gentlemen, It is not unknown to you, how my Con|dition is somewhat remote from the
Pro|fession of deciding Law-Controversies; yet seeing you are pleased to do me the Honour to
put that Task upon me, instead of undergoing the Office of a Iudge, I will become your humble
Supplicant: I ob|serve, Gentlemen, in this Bridlegoose, several things, which induce me to
represent be|fore you, that it is my Opinion he should be pardoned. In the First place, his Old
Age. Secondly, His Simplicity: To both 354 which Qualities our Statute and Common Laws,
Civil and Municipal together, al|low many excuses for any slips or escapes, which through the
invincible Imperfecti|on of either, have been inconsiderately stumbled upon by a Person so
 383

qualified. Thirdly, Gentlemen, I must needs display before you another Case, which in Equity
and Justice maketh much for the advan|tage of Bridlegoose: to wit, that this one, sole, and single
fault of his, ought to be quite forgotten, abolished, and swallowed up, by that immense and vast
Ocean of Just Dooms and Sentences, which hereto|fore he hath given and pronounced: his
Demeanours for these Forty Years and up|wards, that he hath been a Judge, having been so
evenly ballanced in the Scales of Uprightness, that Envy itself, till now, could not have been so
impudent as to ac|cuse and twit him with any Act worthy of a Check or Reprehension: As if a
Drop of the Sea were thrown into the Loire, none could perceive, or say, that by this single Drop,
the whole River should be salt and brackish.

Truly, it seemeth unto me, that in the whole Series of Bridlegoose's Juridical De|crees, there hath
been, I know not what, of extraordinary savouring of the unspeaka|ble Benignity of God, that all
those his pre|ceding 355 Sentences, Awards, and Judge|ments, have been confirmed and
appro|ved of by your selves, in this your own Venerable and Sovereign Court: for it is usual (as
you know well) with him whose ways are inscrutable, to manifest his own ineffable Glory, in
blunting the perspicacy of the Eyes of the Wise, in weakning the Strength of potent Oppressors,
in depres|sing the Pride of rich Extortioners, and in erecting, comforting, protecting, sup|porting,
upholding, and shoaring up the poor, feeble, humble, silly, and foolish Ones of the Earth. But
waving all these matters, I shall only beseech you, not by the Obligations which you pretend to
owe to my Family, for which I thank you; but for that constant and unfeigned Love and
Affection which you have always found in me, both on this and on the other side of Loire, for the
Maintenance and Esta|blishment of your Places, Offices, and Dignities, that for this one time,
you would pardon and forgive him, upon these two Conditions: First, That he sa|tisfie, or put a
sufficient Surety for the Sa|tisfaction of the Party wronged by the In|justice of the Sentence in
question: for the fulfilment of this Article, I will pro|vide sufficiently. And Secondly, That for his
subsidiary Aid in the weighty Charge 356 of Administrating Justice, you would be pleased to
appoint, and assign unto him some pretty, little, vertuous Counseller, younger, learneder, and
wiser then he, by the Square and Rule of whose Advice he may regulate, guide, temper and
mode|rate in times coming all his Judiciary Pro|cedures, or otherways, if you intend to|tally to
depose him from his Office, and to deprive him altogether of the State and Dignity of a Judge, I
shall cordially intreat you to make a Present and free Gift of him to me, who shall find in my
Kingdoms Charges and Employments e|nough wherewith to imbusie him, for the bettering of his
own Fortunes, and fur|therance of my Service. In the mean time, I implore the Creator, Saviour
and Sanctifyer of all good things, in their Grace, Mercy and Kindness to preserve you all now
and evermore, World with|out end.

These Words thus spoken, Pantagruel vayling his Cap, and making a Leg with such a Majestick
Garb as became a Person of his paramount Degree and Eminency, farewell'd Trinquamelle the
President, and Master Speaker of that Merlinguesian Par|liament, took his leave of the whole
Court, and went out of the Chamber; at the Door whereof finding Panurge, Epistemon, 357 Friar
Ihon, and others, he forthwith at|tended by them, walked to the utter Gate, where all them
immediately took Horse to return towards Gargantua. Pan|tagruel by the way related to them
from point to point, the manner of Bridlegoose's sententiating Differences at Law. Friar Ihon
said, that he had seen Peter Dandin, and was acquainted with him at that time when he sojourned
in the Monastery of Fontaine le Conte, under the Noble Abbot Ardillon. Gymnast likeways
affirmed, that he was in the Tent of the Grand Chri|stian Cavallier de Cressie, when the Gascon,
 384

after his Sleep, made answer to the Ad|venturer. Panurge was somewhat incre|dulous in the
matter of believing, that it was morally possible. Bridlegoose should have been for such a long
space of time so continually fortunate in that Aleatory way of deciding Law Debates. Epistemon
said to Pantagruel, Such another Story, not much unlike to that, in all the Circum|stances thereof,
is vulgarly reported of the Provost of Montlehery. In good sooth, such a Perpetuity of good Luck
is to be wondred at. To have hit right twice or thrice in a Judgment so given by Hap-ha|zard·
might have fallen out well enough, e|specially in Controversies that were am|biguous, intricate,
abstruse, perplexed and obscure.

358

CHAP. XLIV. How Pantagruel relateth a strange Hi|story of the Perplexity of Humane
Iudgment.

SEeing you talk (quoth Pantagruel) of dark, difficult, hard and knotty De|bates, I will tell you of
one controverted before Cneius Dolobella, Proconsul in Asia. The Case was this.

A Wife in Smyrna had of her first Hus|band a Child named Abece; he dying, she after the
expiring of a Year and Day, married again, and to her Second Hus|band bore a Boy called Edege:
A pretty long time thereafter it happened (as you know the Affection of Step-fathers and Step-
dams is very rare, towards the Chil|dren of the first Fathers and Mothers de|ceased) that this
Husband, with the help of his Son Edege, secretly, wittingly, wil|lingly and treacherously
murthered Abece. The Woman came no sooner to get Infor|mation of the Fact, that it might not
go unpunished, she caused kill them both, 359 to revenge the Death of her first Son. She was
Apprehended and carried before Cneius Dolobella, in whose Presence, she, without dissembling
any thing, confessed all that was laid to her Charge; yet alledged that she had both Right and
Reason on her side for the killing of them. Thus was the state of the Question. He found the
business so dubious and intricate, that he knew not what to determin therein, nor which of the
Parties to incline to. On the one hand, it was an execrable Crime to cut off at once both her
Second Hus|band and her Son. On the other hand, the Cause of the Murther seemed to be so
natural, as to be grounded upon the Law of Nations, and the rational Instinct of all the People of
the World; seeing they two together had feloniously and mur|therously destroyed her first Son.
Not that they had been in any manner of way· wronged, outraged or injured by him, but out of an
avaricious Intent to possess his Inheritance. In this doubtful Quan|dary and Uncertainty what to
pitch up|on, he sent to the Areopagites then sitting at Athens, to learn and obtain their Ad|vice
and Judgment. That Judicious Se|nate very sagely perpending the Reasons of his Perplexity, sent
him word, to sum|mon her personally to compear before 360 him, a precise Hundred Years
thereafter· to answer to some Interrogatories touch|ing certain Points, which were not con|tained
in the Verbal Defence: Which Resolution of theirs did import, that it was in their Opinion a so
difficult and inextricable a matter, that they knew not what to say or judge therein. Who had
decided that Plea by the Chance and For|tune of the Dice, could not have erred nor awarded
amiss on which side soever he had past his casting and condemnatory Sen|tence: If against the
Woman, she deser|ved Punishment for usurping Sovereign Authority, by taking that Vengeance
at her own hand, the inflicting whereof was only competent to the Supream Power, to administer
 385

Justice in Criminal Cases: If for her, the just Resentment of a so atrocious Injury done unto her,
in mur|thering her innocent Son, did fully excuse and vindicate her of any Trespass or Of|fence
about that particular committed by her. But this continuation of Bridlegoose for so many years,
still hitting the Nail on the Head, never missing the Mark, and al|ways judging aright, by the
meer throwing of the Dice, and the Chance thereof, is that which most astonisheth and amazeth
me. To answer (quoth Epistemon) categorically to that which you wonder at, I must ingeni|ously
confess and avow that I cannot; yet 361 conjecturally to guess at the reason of it, I would refer
the Cause of that marvelously long continued happy Success in the Ju|diciary Results of his
Definitive Sentences to the favourable Aspect of the Heavens, and Benignity of the Intelligences;
who, out of their love to Goodness, after ha|ving contemplated the pure Simplicity and sincere
Unfeignedness of Judge Bri|dlegoose in the acknowledgment of his In|abilities, did regulate that
for him by Chance, which by the profoundest Act of his maturest Deliberation he was not able to
reach unto. That likeways which possibly made him to diffide in his own Skill and Capacity,
notwithstanding his being an expert and understanding Law|yer, for any thing that I know to the
con|trary, was the Knowledge and Experi|ence which he had of the Antenomies, Contrarieties,
Antilogies, Contradictions, Traversings and Thwartings of Laws, Customs, Edicts, Statutes,
Orders and Or|dinances, in which dangerous Oppositi|on, Equity and Justice being structured and
founded on either of the opposite Terms, and a Gap being thereby opened for the ushering in of
Injustice and Ini|quity, through the various Interpretations of Self ended Lawyers, being
assuredly perswaded that the Infernal Calumniator, 362 who frequently transformeth himself into
the likeness of a Messenger or Angel of Light, maketh use of these cross Glosses and
Expositions in the Mouths and Pens of his Ministers and Servants, the perverse Advocates,
bribing Judges, Law-monging Attorneys, prevaricating Counsellors, and other such like Law-
wrestling Members of a Court of Justice, to turn by those means Black to White, Green to Grey,
and what is Streight to a Crooked ply; for the more expedient doing whereof these Diabolical
Ministers make both the Pleading Parties believe that their Cause is just and righte|ous; for it is
well known that there is no Cause how bad soever, which doth not find an Advocate to
patrocinate and de|fend it, else would there be no Process in the World, no Suits at Law, nor
Plead|ings at the Bar. He did in these Extre|mities, as I conceive, most humbly re|commend the
Direction of his Judicial Proceedings to the upright Judge of Judg|es, God Almighty; did submit
himself to the Conduct and Guideship of the blessed Spirit, in the Hazard and Perplexity of the
Definitive Sentence; and by this Alea|tory Lot, did as it were implore and ex|plore the Divine
Decree of his Good Will and Pleasure, in stead of that which we call the Final Iudgment of a
Court. To 363 this effect, to the better attaining to his purpose, which was to judge righteously,
he did in my Opinion throw and turn the Dice, to the end, that by the Provi|dence aforesaid, the
best Chance might fall to him whose Action was uprightest, and backed with greatest Reason; in
doing whereof he did not stray from the Sence of Talmudists, who say that there is so little harm
in that manner of searching the Truth, that in the Anxiety and Per|plexedness of Humane Wits,
God often|times manifesteth the Secret Pleasure of his Divine Will.

Furthermore, I will neither think nor say, nor can I believe, that the unstreight|ness is so irregular,
or the Corruption so evident, of those of the Parliament of Mirlingois in Mirlingues, before
whom Bri|dlegoose was Arraigned for Prevarication, that they will maintain it to be a worse
Practice to have the Decision of a Suit at Law referred to the Chance and Hazard of a Throw of
the Dice, hab nab, or luck as it will, than to have it remitted to, and past by the Determination of
those whose Hands are full of Blood, and Hearts of wry Affections. Besides that, their principal
 386

Direction in all Law-matters comes to their Hands from one Tribonian, a wicked, miscreant,
barbarous, faithless 364 and perfidious Knave, so pernicious, in|just, avaricious and perverse in
his ways, that it was his ordinary custom to sell Laws, Edicts, Declarations, Constituti|ons and
Ordinances, as at an Outroop or Putsale, to him who offered most for them. Thus did he shape
Measures for the Pleaders, and cut their Morsels to them by and out of these little Parcels,
Fragments, Bits, Scantlings and Shreds of the Law now in use, altogether conceal|ing,
suppressing, disannulling and abo|lishing the remainder, which did make for the total Law;
fearing that if the whole Law were made manifest and laid open to the knowledge of such as are
in|teressed in it, and the Learned Books of the Ancient Doctors of the Law, upon the Exposition
of the Twelve Tables and Prae|torian Edicts, his villanous Pranks, Naugh|tiness and vile Impiety
should come to the publick notice of the World. Therefore were it better in my Conceit, that is to
say, less inconvenient, that Parties at Va|riance in any Juridicial Case, should in the dark march
upon Caltropes, then to sub|mit the Determination of what is their Right to such unhallowed
Sentences and horrible Decrees: As Cato in his time wished and advised, that every Judiciary
Court should be paved with Caltropes.

365

CHAP. XLV. How Panurge taketh Advice of Tri|boulet.

ON the sixth Day thereafter Pantagruel was returned home, at the very same hour that Triboulet
was by Water come from Blois. Panurge at his Arrival gave him a Hogs Bladder, puffed up with
Wind, and resounding, because of the hard Pease that were within it: More|over he did present
him with a guilt Wooden Sword, a hollow Budget made of a Tortoise shell, an Osier Watled
Wick|er-Bottle full of Briton Wine, and Five and Twenty Apples of the Orchard of Blanduc[...] .

If he be such a Fool (quoth Carpalin) as to be won with Apples, there is no more Wit in his Pate
than in the Head of an ordinary Cabbage. Triboulet girded the Sword and Scrip to his[...]side,
took the Bladder in his Hand, ate some few of the Apples, and drunk up all the Wine Pa|nurge
very wistly and heedfully looking upon him, said, I never yet saw a Fool, 366 (and I have seen
ten thousand Franks worth of that kind of Cattle) who did not love to drink heartily, and by good
long Draughts. When Triboulet had done with his Drinking, Panurge laid out be|fore him, and
exposed the Sum of the bu|siness, wherein he was to require his Ad|vice in eloquent and
choicely-sorted Terms, adorned with Flourishes of Rhe|torick. But before he had altogether done,
Triboulet with his Fist gave him a bouncing Whirret between the Shoulders, rendred back into
his Hand again the em|pty Bottle, filipped and flirted him on the Nose with the Hogs Bladder;
and lastly, for a final resolution, shaking and wag|ging his Head strongly and disorderly, he
answered nothing else but this, By God, God; mad Fool, beware the Monk: Buzan|say,
Hornepipe. These Words thus finished, he slipped himself out of the Company, went aside, and
ratling the Bladder, took a huge Delight in the Melody of the rickling, crackling noise of the
Pease; after which time it lay not in the power of them all to draw out of his Chaps the Articulate
Sound of one Syllable; inso|much that when Panurge went about to interrogate him further,
Triboulet drew his Wooden Sword, and would have stuck him therewith. I have fished fair now,
367 (quoth Panurge) and brought my Pigs to a fine Market. Have I not got a brave
 387

Determination of all my Doubts, and a Responce in all things agreeable to the Oracle that gave
it? He is a great Fool that is not to be denied; yet is he a great|er Fool who brought him hither to
me. That Bolt, quoth Carpalin, levels point blank at me; but of the three I am the greatest Fool,
who did impart the Secret of my Thoughts to such an Idiot Ass and Native Ninny.

Without putting our selves to any stir or trouble in the least, (quoth Pantagruel) let us maturely
and seriously consider and perpend the Gestures and Speech which he hath made and uttered: In
them veri|tably (quoth he) have I remarked and observed some excellent and notable My|steries;
yea, of such important and worth and weight, that I shall never henceforth be astonished, nor
think strange, why the Turks with a great deal of Worship and Reverence, Honour and Respect
Natural Fools, equally with their Primest Doctors, Mufties, Divines and Prophets. Did not you
take heed (quoth he) a little before he opened his Mouth to speak, what a shog|ging· shaking and
wagging his Head did keep? By the approved Doctrine of the ancient Philosophers, the
customary Ce|remonies 368 of the most expert Magici|ans, and the received Opinions of the
learnedest Lawyers, such a brangling A|gitation and Moving should by us all be judged to
proceed from, and be quickned and suscitated by the coming and Inspira|tion of the Prophetizing
and Fatielical Spirit, which entring briskly, and on a sudden, into a shallow Receptacle of a debil
Substance (for as you know, and as the Proverb shews it, a little Head containeth not much
Brains) was the cause of that Commotion. This is conform to what is avouched by the most
skilful Physicians, when they affirm, that Shakings and Trem|blings fall upon the Members of a
Hu|mane Body, partly because of the Heavi|ness and violent Impetuosity of the Bur|then and
Load that is carried, and other part, by reason of the Weakness and Imbe|cillity that is in the
vertue of the bearing Organ: A manifest Example whereof ap|peareth in those, who fasting, are
not a|ble to carry to their Head a great Goblet full of Wine without a trembling and a shaking in
the Hand that holds it. This of old was accounted a Prefiguration and mystical pointing out of the
Pythian Di|vineress, who used always before the ut|tering of a Responce from the Oracle, to
shake a Branch of her Domestick Lawrel. 369 Lampridius also testifieth, that the Empe|ror
Heliogabulus, to acquire unto himself the Reputation of a Sooth-sayer, did, on several Holy Days
of prime Solemnity, in the Presence of the Fanatick Rabble, make the Head of his Idol, by some
slight within the Body thereof, publickly to shake. Plautus, in his Asserie, declareth likeways,
that Saurius, whithersoever he walked like one quite distracted of his Wits, keepeth such a
furious lolling and mad-like shaking of his Head, that he commonly affrighted those who
casually met with him in his Way. The said Au|thor in another place shewing a Reason why
Charmides shook and brangled his Head, assevered that he was transported, and in an Extasie.
Catullus after the same manner maketh mention in his Berecyn|thia and Atys, of the place
wherein the Menades, Bacchical Women, She Priests of the Lyaean God, and demented
Prophe|tesses, carrying Ivy Boughs in their hands, did shake their Heads. As in the like case
amongst the Gauls, the guelded Priests of Cybele were wont to do in the celebrating of some
Festivals, which according to the sense of the ancient Theologues, have from thence had their
Denomination; for [...] signifieth to turn round, whirl 370 about, shake the Head, and play the
part of one that is wry-necked.

Semblably Titus Livius writeth, that in the Solemnization time of the Bacchana|lian Fobedayes at
Rome, both Men and Women seemed to Prophetize and Va|ticinate, because of an affected kind
of wagging of the Head, shrugging of the Shoulders, and Jectigation of the whole Body, which
they used then most pun|ctually. For the common Voice of the Philosophers, together with the
 388

Opinion of the People, asserteth for an irrefraga|ble Truth, that Vaticination is seldom by the
Heavens bestowed on any, without the Concomitancy of a little Phrensie, and a Head shaking,
not only when the said presaging Vertue is infused, but when the Person also therewith inspired
declareth and manifesteth it unto others. The Learned Lawyer Iulien, being asked on a time, if
that Slave might be truly esteem|ed to be healthful and in a good plight, who had not only
convers'd with some fu|rious, maniack and enraged People, but in their Company had also
prophesied, yet without a Noddle-shaking Concussion, answered, That seeing there was no
Head-wagging at the time of his Predictions, he might be held for sound and compotent enough.
Is it not daily seen how School|masters, 371 Teachers, Tutors and Instructors of Children, shake
the Heads of their Dis|ciples, (as one would do a Pot in holding it by the Lugs) that by this
Erection, Vellication, stretching and pulling their Ears, (which according to the Doctrine of the
sage Egyptians, is a Member consecra|ted to the Memory) they may stir them up to recollect their
scatter'd Thoughts, bring home those Fancies of theirs, which per|haps have been extravagantly
roaming abroad upon strange and uncouth Ob|jects, and totally range their Judgments, which
possibly by disordinate Affections have been made wild, to the Rule and Pat|tean of a wise,
discreet, vertuous and Philosophical Discipline: All which Vir|gil acknowledgeth to be true, in
the bran|glement of Apollo Cynthius.

372

CHAP. XLVI. How Pantagruel and Panurge diversly interpret the Words of Triboulet.

HE says you are a Fool; and what kind of Fool? A mad Fool, who in your old Age would
enslave your self to the Bondage of Matrimony, and shut your Pleasures up within a Wedlock,
whose Key some Ruffian· carries in his Codpiece. He says furthermore, beware of the Monk.
Upon mine Honour, it gives me in my mind, that you will be cuckold|ed by a Monk. Nay, I will
engage mine Honour, which is the most precious Pawn I could have in my Possession, al|though
I were sole and peaceable Domi|nator over all Europe, Asia, and Africk, that if you marry, you
will surely be one of the Horned Brotherhood of Vulcan. Hereby may you perceive how much I
do attribute to the wise Foolery of our Morosoph Triboulet. The other Oracles and Responses did
in the general prognosti|cate you a Cuckold, without descending 373 so near to the point of a
particular De|termination, as to pitch upon what Vo|cation, amongst the several sorts of Men, he
should profess who is to be the Copes|mate of your Wife, and Hornifyer of your proper self.
Thus noble Triboulet tells it us plainly, from whose Words we may gather with all ease
imaginary, that your Cuckoldry is to be infamous, and so much the more scandalous, that your
Conjugal Bed will be incestuously conta|minated with the Filthiness of a Monkery Lecher.
Moreover he says, that you will be the Hornepipe of Buzansay. That is to say, well horned,
hornified and cornuted: And as Triboulet's Unkle asked from Lewis the Twelfth, for a younger
Brother of his own who lived at Blois, the Hornepipes of Buzansay, for the Organ Pipes, through
the mistake of one Word for another: Even so, whilst you think to marry a wise, humble, calm,
discreet and honest Wife, you shall unhappily stumble upon one witless, proud, lowd,
obstreperous, bawling, clamourous, and more unplea|sant than any Buzansay-hornepipe.
Consider withal, how he flirted you on the Nose with the Bladder, and gave you a sound
thumping Blow with his Fist upon the ridge of the Back. This denotates and presageth, that you
 389

shall be banged, beaten 374 and filipped by her; and that also she will steal of your Goods from
you, as you stole the Hogs Bladder from the little Boys of Vaubreton. Plat contrary (quoth
Panurge) not that I would impudently ex|empt my self from being a Vassal in the Territory of
Folly; I hold of that Juris|diction, and am subject thereto, I confess it; and why should I not? for
the whole World is foolish. In the old Lorrain Lan|guage (fou for oou) All and Fool were the
same thing. Besides it is avouched by So|lomon, that infinite is the number of Fools: From an
Infinity nothing can be deducted or abated; nor yet by the Testimony of Aristotle, can any thing
thereto be added or subjoyned. Therefore were I a mad Fool, if being a Fool I should not hold
my self a Fool. After the same manner of speaking, we may averr the number of the mad and
enraged Folks to be infinite. Avicenne maketh no Bones to assert, that the several kinds of
Madness are infi|nite.

Though this much of Triboulet's words tend little to my Advantage, how be it the Prejudice
which I sustain thereby be common with me to all other Men, yet the rest of his Talk and Gesture
maketh altogether for me. He said to my Wife, Be weary of the Monky; that is as much, 375 as if
he should be chery, and take as much delight in a Monky as ever did the Les|bia of Catullus in
her Sparrow; who will for his Recreation pass his time no less joy|fully at the exercise of
snatching Flies, then heretofore did the merciless Fly|catcher Domitian. Withal he meant by
another part of his Discourse, that she should be of a Jovial Country-like Hu|mour, as gay and
pleasing as a harmoni|ous Hornepipe of Saulian or Buzansy. The veridical Triboulet did therein
hint at what I liked well, as perfectly knowing the In|clinations and Propensions of my Mind, my
natural Disposition, and the Biass of my Interior Passions and Affections: For you may be
assured, that my Humour is much better satisfied and contented with the pretty frolick rural
discheveled Shep|heardesses, whose Bums through their course Canvas Smocks smell of the
Cla|ver-grass of the Field, than with those great Ladies in Magnifick Courts, with their Flandan,
Top-knots and Sultana's, their Polvil, Postillo's and Cosmeticks. The homely sound likeways of a
Rustical Hornepipe, is more agreeable to my Ears, than the curious Warbling and musical
Quavering of Lutes, Teorbes, Viols, Re|becks and Violins. He gave me a lusty rapping thwack on
my Back. What then? 376 Let it pass in the Name and for the Love of God, as an Abatement of,
and Dedu|ction from so much of my future Pains in Purgatory. He did it not out of any evil
intent: He thought belike to have hit some of the Pages: He is an honest Fool, and an innocent
Changeling. It is a Sin to harbour in the Heart any bad Conceit of him. As for my self, I hear|tily
pardon him. He flirted me on the Nose: In that there is no harm; for it importeth nothing else, but
that betwixt my Wife and me there will occur some toyish wanton Tricks, which usually hap|pen
to all new married Folks.

CHAP. XLVII. How Pantagruel and Panurge resolved to make a Visit to the Oracle of the
Holy Bottle.

THere is as yet another Point (quoth Panurge) which you have not at all considered on, although
it be the chief and principal Head of the matter. He put the Bottle in my hand, and restored it 377
me again. How interpret you that Pas|sage? What is the meaning of that? He possibly (quoth
Pantagruel) signifieth there|by, that your Wife will be such a Drun|kard, as shall daily take in her
 390

Liquor kindly, and ply the Pots and Bottles apace. Quite otherways (quoth Panurge) for the
Bottle was empty. I swear to you, by the prickling brambly Thorn of St. Fiacre in Brie, that our
unique Morosoph, whom I formerly termed the Lunatick Triboulet, re|ferreth me, for attaining to
the final Re|solution of my Scruple, to the Response-giving Bottle: Therefore do I renew afresh
the first Vow which I made, and here in your Presence protest and make Oath by Styx and
Acheron, to carry still Spectacles in my Cap, and never to wear a Codpiece in my Breeches, until
upon the Enterprize in hand of my Nuptial Undertaking, I shall have obtained an Answer from
the Holy Bottle. I am acquainted with a pru|dent, understanding, and discreet Gentle|man, and
besides a very good Friend of mine, who knoweth the Land, Country, and Place where its
Temple and Oracle is built and posited: He will guide and conduct us thither sure and safely. Let
us go thither, I beseech you: Deny me not, and say not, Nay; reject not the Suit I make unto you,
I intreat you. I 378 will be to you an Achates, a Damis, and heartily accompany you all along in
the whole Voyage, both in your going forth and coming back. I have of a long time known you
to be a great Lover of Pe|regrination, desirous still to learn new things, and still to see what you
had ne|ver seen before.

Very willingly (quoth Pantagruel) I con|descend to your Request. But before we enter in upon
our Progress towards the Accomplishment of so far a Journey, re|plenished and fraught with
eminent Perils, full of innumerable Hazards, and every way stored with evident and manifest
Dangers. What Dangers (quoth Panurge) interrupting him? Dangers fly back, run from, and shun
me whither soever I go seven Leagues around: As in the Presence of the Soveraign a subordinate
Magistra|cy is eclipsed; or as Clouds and Darkness quite evanish at the bright coming of a
Radiant Sun; or as all Sores and Sicknes|ses did suddenly depart, at the approach of the Body of
St. Martin Aquande: Ne|vertheless (quoth Pantagruel) before we ad|venture to set forwards on
the Road of our projected and intended Voyage, some few Points are to be discussed, expedited
and dispatched. First, Let us send back Triboulet to Blois, (which was instantly 379 done, after
that Pantagruel had given him a Frize Coat.) Secondly, Our Design must be backed with the
Advice and Counsel of the King my Father. And Lastly, It is most needful and expedient for us,
that we search for, and find out some Sybille to serve us for a Guide, Truchman and In|terpreter.
To this Panurge made answer, That his Friend Xenomanes would abun|dantly suffice for the
plenary Discharge and Performance of the Sybil's Office; and that furthermore, in passing
through the Lanternatory Revelling Country, they should take along with them a Learned and
profitable Lanterne, which would be no less useful to them in their Voyage, than was that of the
Sybil to Aeneas in his Descent to the Elysian Fields. Carpalin in the interim, as he was upon the
conduct|ing away of Triboulet, in his passing by, hearkened a little to the Discourse they were
upon, then spoke out, saying, Ho, Panurge, Master Freeman, take my Lord Debitis at Calais
alongst with you, for he is Goud-fallot, a good Fellow: He will not forget those who have been
Debitors: These are Lanternes: Thus shall you not lack for both Fallot and Lanterne. I may
safely with the little Skill I have (quoth Pantagruel) prognosticate, that by the way we shall
engender no Melancholy; 380 I clearly perceive it already: The only thing that vexeth me is, that
I cannot speak the Lanternatorie Language. I shall (answered Panurge) speak for you all; I
understand it every whit as well as I do mine own Maternal Tongue, I have been no less used to
it than to the Vulgar French.
 391

Briz mara dalgotbrick nubstzenos

Isqufez prus{que} alboriz crinqs zabac
Mizbe dilbarlkz morp nipp stanch bac
Srombtz, Paurg, walmap quost grufzbac.

Now guess, Friend Epistemon, what this is. They are (quoth Epistemon) Names of errand Devils,
paissant Devils, and rampant Devils. These words of thine, dear friend of mine, are true (quoth
Pa|nurge) yet are they Terms used in the Language of the Court of the Lanternish People. By the
way as we go upon our Journey I will make to thee a pretty lit|tle Dictionary, which
notwithstanding shall not last you much longer than a Pair of new Shooes; thou shalt have
learned it sooner than thou canst perceive the Dawning of the next subsequent Morn|ing. What I
have said in the foregoing Tetrastick is thus translated out of the Lan|ternish Tongue into our
Vulgar Dialect.

381
All Miseries attended me, whilst I
A Lover was, and had no good thereby:
Of better Luck the married People tell,
Panurge is one of those, and knows it well.

There is little more then (quoth Pan|tagruel) to be done, but that we under|stand what the Will of
the King my Fa|ther will be therein, and purchase his Con|sent.

CHAP. XLVIII. How Gargantua sheweth, that the Chil|dren ought not to marry without
the special Knowledge and Advice of their Fathers and Mothers.

NO sooner had Pantagruel entred in at the Door of the Great Hall of the Castle, than that he
encountred full but with the good honest Gargantua coming forth from the Council Board, unto
whom he made a succinct and summary Narra|tive 382 of what had pass'd and occurred worthy
of his Observation in his Travels abroad· since their last Interview: Then, acquainting him with
the Design he had in hand, besought him that it might stand wi[...]h his good Will and Pleasure to
grant him leave to prosecute and go thorough-stitch with the Enterprize which he had
undertaken. The good Man Gargantua having in one hand two great Bundles of Petitions,
indorsed and answered; and in the other some remembrancing Notes and Bills, to put him in
mind of such other Requests of Supplicants, which al|beit presented, had nevertheless been
nei|ther read nor heard, he gave both to Ul|rich Gallet, his ancient and faithful Ma|ster of
Requests; then drew aside Pan|tagruel, and with a Countenance more se|rene and jovial than
customary, spoke to him thus: I praise God, and have great reason so to do, my most dear Son,
that he hath been pleased to entertain in you a constant Inclination to vertuous Actions. I am well
content that the Voyage which you have motioned to me be by you ac|complished, but withal, I
could wish you would have a mind and desire to marry, for that I see you are of competent years.
Panurge in the mean while was in a rea|diness of preparing and providing for 383 Remedies,
 392

Salves and Cures against all such Lets, Obstacles and Impediments as he could in the heighth of
his Fancy con|ceive might by Gargantua be cast in the way of their Itinerary Design. Is it your
Pleasure (most dear Father) that you speak? (answered Pantagruel) For my part I have not yet
thought upon it. In all this Affair I wholly submit and rest in your good liking and Paternal
Autho|rity: For I shall rather pray unto God that he would throw me down stark dead at your
Feet, in your Pleasure, then that against your pleasure I should be found married alive. I never
yet heard that by any Law, whether Sacred or Profane, yea, amongst the rudest and most
barba|rous Nations in the World, it was allowed and approved of, that Children may be suffered
and tolerated to marry at their own good Will and Pleasure, without the Knowledge, Advice or
Consent asked and had thereto of their Fathers, Mo|thers, and nearest Kindred. All Legisla|tors
every where upon the Face of the whole Earth, have taken away and remo|ved this Licentious
Liberty from Chil|dren, and totally reserved it to the Dis|cretion of the Parents.

384 My dearly beloved Son (quoth Gargan|tua) I believe you, and from my Heart thank God for
having endowed you with the Grace of having both a perfect no|tice of, and entire liking to
laudable and praise[...]worthy things; and that through the Windows of your exterior Senses he
hath vouchsafed to transmit unto the in|teriour Faculties of your Mind, nothing but what is good
and vertuous. For in my time there hath been found on the Continent a certain Country, wherein
are I know not what kind of Pastophorian Mole-catching Priests, who albeit averse from
engaging their proper Persons into a Matrimonial Duty, like the Pontifical Flamens of Cibele in
Phrygia, as if they were Capons and not Cocks; full of Las|civiousness, Salacity and
Wantonness, who yet have nevertheless, in the matter of Con|jugal Affairs, taken upon them to
prescribe Laws and Ordinances to married Folks. I cannot goodly determine what I should most
abhor, detest, loath and abominate, whether the Tyrannical Presumption of those dreaded
Sacerdotal Molecatchers, who not being willing to contain and coop up themselves within the
Grates and Treil|lices of their own mysterious Temples, do deal in, meddle with, obtrude upon,
and thrust their Sickles into Harvests of Secu|lar 385 Businesses quite contrary, and
diame|trically opposite to the Quality, State and Condition of their Callings, Professions and
Vocations; or the superstitious Stu|pidity and senceless Scrupulousness of mar|ried Folks, who
have yielded Obedience, and submitted their Bodies, Fortunes and Estates to the Discretion and
Authority of such odious, perverse, barbarous, and unreasonable Laws. Nor do they see that
which is clearer than the Light and Splendour of the Morning Star, how all these Nuptial and
Connubial Sanctions, Statutes and Ordinances have been de|creed, made and instituted, for the
sole Benefit, Profit and Advantage of the Fla|minal Mists, and mysterious Flamens, and nothing
at all for the good Utility or E|molument of the silly hood-winked mar|ried People; which
administreth unto others a sufficient Cause for rendring these Church-men suspicious of Iniquity,
and of an unjust and fraudulent manner of dealing, no more to be connived at nor countenanced,
after that it be well weigh|ed in the Scales of Reason, than if with a reciprocal Temerity the
Laicks by way of Compensation would impose Laws to be followed and observed by those Mysts
and Flamens; how they should behave them|selves in the making and Performance of 386 their
Rites and Ceremonies, and after what manner they ought to proceed in the offering up, and
immolating of their various Oblations, Victims and Sacrifices; seeing that besides the
Edecimation and Tith-haling of their Goods, they cut off and take Parings, Shreddings and
Clip|pings of the Gain proceeding from the Labour of their Hands, and Sweat of their Brows,
therewith to entertain them|selves the better. Upon which Conside|ration in my Opinion; their
 393

Injunctions and Commands would not prove so per|nicious and impertinent as those of the
Ecclesiastick Power, unto which they had tendred their blind Obedience.

For as you have very well said, there is no place in the World where legally a Licence is granted
to the Children to marry without the Advice and Consent of their Parents and Kindred.
Nevertheless by those wicked Laws and Mole-catching Customs, whereat there is a little hinted
in what I have already spoken to you, there is no scurvy, mezely, leprous or pocky Ruffian,
Pander, Knave, Rogue, Skelm, Robber or Thief, pilloried, whip|ped and burn-marked in his own
Coun|try for his Crimes and Felonies, who may not violently snatch away and ravish what Maid
soever he had a mind to pitch up|on, 387 how noble, how fair, how rich, ho|nest and chaste
soever she be, and that out of the House of her own Father, in his own Presence, from the Bosom
of her Mother, and in the sight and despight of her Friends and Kindred looking on a so woful
Spectacle, provided that the Rascal Villain be so cunning as to associate unto himself some
Mystical Flamen, who ac|cording to the Covenant made betwixt them two, shall be in hope some
day to participate of the Prey.

Could the Goths, the Scyths, or Messa|gets do a worse or more cruel Act to any of the Inhabitants
of a Hostile City, when after the loss of many of their most consi|derable Commanders, the
expence of a great deal of Money, and a long Siege, they shall have stormed and taken it by a
vio|olent and impetuous Assault? May not these Fathers and Mothers (think you) be sorrowful
and heavy-hearted, when they see an unknown Fellow, a Vagabond Stranger, a barbarous Lowt,
a rude Curr, rotten, fleshless, putrified, scraggy, boily, botchy, poor, a forlorn Caitif and
mise|rable Snake, by an open Rapt, snatcht a|way before their own Eyes their so fair, delicate,
neat, well-behavioured, richly provided for, and healthful Daughters, on whose Breeding and
Education they had 388 spared no Cost nor Charges, by bringing them up in an honest Discipline
to all the honourable and vertuous Employments becoming one of their Sex, descended of a
noble Parentage, hoping by those com|mendable and industrious means in an opportune and
convenient time to be|stow them on the worthy Sons of their well-deserving Neighbours and
ancient Friends, who had nourished, entertained, taught, instructed and schooled their Chil|dren
with the same Care and Sollicitude, to make them Matches fit to attain to the Felicity of a so
happy Marriage; that from them might issue an Off-spring and Progeny no less Heirs to the
laudable En|dowments and exquisite Qualifications of their Parents whom they every way
re|semble, than to their Personal and Real Estates, Moveables and Inheritances? How doleful,
trist and plangorous would such a Sight and Pageantry prove unto them? You shall not need to
think that the Col|lachrymation of the Romans, and their Confederates, at the Decease of
Germani|cus Drusus, was comparable to this Lamen|tation of theirs? Neither would I have you to
believe, that the Discomfort and Anxiety of the Lacedemonians, when the Greek Helen, by the
Perfidiousness of the 389 Adulterous Trojan Paris was privily stollen away out of their Country,
was greater or more pitiful than this ruthful and de|plorable Collugency of theirs? You may very
well imagine that Ceres, at the Ra|vishment of her Daughter Proserpina, was not more attristed,
sad, no[...] mournful than they. Trust me, and your own Reason, that the loss of Osyris was not so
regreatable to Isis; nor did Venus so de|plore the Death of Adonis; nor yet did Hercules so bewail
the straying of Hylas; nor was the Rapt of Polyxena more throb|bingly resented and condoled by
Pryamus and Hecuba, than this aforesaid Accident would be sympathetically bemoaned,
grie|vous, ruthful and anxious to the wofully desolate and disconsolate Parents.
 394

Notwithstanding all this, the greater part of so vilely abused Parents, are so timerous and afraid
of Devils and Hob|goblins, and so deeply plunged in Super|stition, that they dare not gainsay nor
contradict, much less oppose and resist those unnatural and impious Actions, when the Mole-
catcher hath been present at the perpetrating of the Fact, and a Party Contracter and Covenanter
in that de|testable Bargain. What do they do then? They wretchedly stay at their own mise|rable
390 Homes, destitute of their well-be|loved Daughters; the Fathers cursing the days and the hours
wherein they were mar|ried; and the Mothers howling and crying that it was not their fortune to
have brought forth Abortive Issues, when they hapned to be delivered of such unfortunate Girls;
and in this pitiful plight spend at best the remainder of their Time with Tears and Weeping for
those their Children of, and from whom they expected (and with good reason should have
obtained and reaped) in these latter days of theirs, Joy and Comfort. Other Parents there have
been, so impatient of that Affront and Indigni|ty put upon them and their Families, that,
transported with the Extremity of Passi|on, in a mad and frantick mood, through the Vehemency
of a grievous Fury and raging Sorrow, have drowned, hanged, killed, and otherways put violent
hands on themselves. Others again of that Pa|rental Relation, have upon the reception of the like
Injury, been of a more mag|nanimous and heroick Spirit, who (in imitation, and at the Example
of the Children of Iacob, revenging upon the Sichemits the Rapt of their Sister Dina) having
found the Rascally Ruffian in the Association of his mystical Mole-catcher closely and in
hugger-mugger, conferring, 391 parlying, and coming with their Daugh|ters, for the suborning,
corrupting, de|praving, perverting and enticing these in|nocent, unexperienced Maids unto filthy
Lewdnesses, have, without any further Advisement on the matter, cut them in|stantly into pieces,
and thereupon forth|with thrown out upon the Fields their so dismembred Bodies, to serve for
Food unto the Wolves and Ravens. Upon the chivalrous, bold and couragious Atchieve|ment of a
so valiant, stout and man-like Act, the other Mole catching Symmists have been so highly
incensed, and have so chaffed, fretted and fumed thereat, that Bills of Complaint and
Accusations ha|ving been in a most odious and detestible manner put in before the competent
Judges, the Arm of Secular Authority hath with much Importunity and Impetuosity been by them
implored and required, they proudly contending, that the Ser|vants of God would become
contempti|ble, if exemplary Punishment were not speedily taken upon the Persons of the
Perpetrators of such an enormous, horrid, sacrilegious, crying, heinous, and execra|ble Crime.

Yet neither by Natural Equity, by the Law of Nations, nor by any Imperial Law whatsoever, hath
there been found 392 so much as one Rubrick, Paragraph, Point or Tittle, by the which any kind
of Cha|stisement or Correction hath been adjudg|ed due to be inflicted upon any for their
Delinquency in that kind. Reason op|poseth, and Nature is repugnant: For there is no vertuous
Man in the World, who, both naturally and with good rea|son, will not be more hugely troubled
in Mind, hearing of the News of the Rapt, Disgrace, Ignominy and Dishonour of his· Daughter,
than of her Death. Now any Man finding in hot Blood, one who with a fore-thought Felony hath
mur|thered his Daughter, may, without tying himself to the Formalities and Circum|stances of a
Legal Proceeding, kill him on a sudden, and out of hand, without incurring any hazard of being
attainted and apprehended by the Officers of Ju|stice for so doing. What wonder is it then? or
how little strange should it ap|pear to any rational Man, if a Lechering Rogue, together with his
Mole catching Abetter, be entrapped· in the flagrant Act of suborning his Daughter, and stealing
her out of his House, (though her self con|sent thereto) that the Father in such a case of Stain and
Infamy by them brought upon his Family, should put them both to a shameful Death, and cast
their Car|casses 393 upon Dunghils to be devoured and eaten up by Dogs and Swine, or
 395

other|wise fling them a little further off to the direption, tearing and rending asunder of their
Joynts and Members by the Wild Beasts of the Field.

Dearly beloved Son, have an especial Care, that after my Decease none of these Laws be
received in any of your King|doms; for whilst I breath, by the Grace and Assistance of God I
shall give good Order.

Seeing therefore you have totally re|ferred unto my Discretion the Disposure of you in Marriage,
I am fully of an O|pinion, that I shall provide sufficiently well for you in that Point. Make ready
and prepare your self for Panurge's Voy|age· Take along with you Epistemon, Friar Ihon, and
such others as you will choose: Do with my Treasures what un|to your self shall seem most
expedient: None of your Actions, I promise you, can in any manner of way displease me. Take
out of my Arcenal Thalasse, what|soever Equipage, Furniture or Provision you please, together
with such Pilots, Mariners and Truchmen, as you have a mind to; and with the first fair and
favourable Wind set sail and make out to Sea in the Name of God our Saviour. In 394 the mean
while, during your Absence, I shall not be neglective of providing a Wife for you, nor of those
Preparations, which are requisite to be made for the more sumptuous solemnizing of your
Nuptials with a most splendid Feast, if ever there was any in the World, since the days of
Assuerus.

CHAP. XLIX. How Pantagruel did put himself in a readiness to go to Sea; and of the Herb
named Pantagruelion.

WIthin very few days after that Pan|tagruel had taken his Leave of the good Gargantua, who
devoutly prayed for his Sons happy Voyage, he arrived at the Sea-Port, near to Sammalo,
accompanied with Panurge, Epistemon, Friar Ihon of the Funnels, Abbot of Theleme, and others
of the Royal House, especially with Xenoma|nes the great Traveller, and Thwarter of dangerous
ways, who was come at the bidding and appointment of Panurge, of whose Castle wick of
Salmigondin he did 395 hold some petty Inheritance by the Tenure of a Mesnefee. Pantagruel
be|ing come thither, prepared and made ready for launching a Fleet of Ships, to the number of
those which Ajax of Sala|mine had of old equipped, in Convoy of the Graecian Soldiery against
the Trojan State. He likewise picked out for his use so many Mariners, Pilots, Sailors,
Inter|preters, Artificers, Officers and Soldiers, as he thought fitting; and therewithal made
Provision of so much Victuals of all sorts, Artillery, Munition of divers kinds, Cloaths, Moneys,
and other such Lug|gage, Stuff, Baggage, Chaffer and Fur|niture, as he deemed needful for
car|rying on the Design of a so tedious, long and perillous Voyage. Amongst o|ther things, it was
observed, how he cau|sed some of his Vessels to be fraught and loaded with a great quantity of
an Herb of his called Pantagruelion, not only of the green and raw sort of it, but of the con|fected
also, and of that which was nota|bly well befitted for present use after the fashion of Conserves.
The Herb Panta|gruelion hath a little Root somewhat hard and ruff, roundish, terminating in an
ob|tuse and very blunt Point, and having some of its Veins, Strings or Filaments coloured with
some spots of white, never 396 fixeth it self into the ground above the profoundness almost of a
Cubit, or Foot and a half; from the Root thereof pro|ceedeth the only Stalk, orbicular,
 396

cane[...]like, green without, whitish within, and hollow like the Stem of Smyrgium, Olus Atrum,
Beans and Gentian, full of long Threds, streight, easie to be broken, jog|ged, snipped, nicked and
notched a little after the manner of Pillars and Columns, slightly farrowed, chamfered, guttred
and channel'd, and full of Fibres, or Hairs like Strings, in which consisteth the chief Value and
Dignity of the Herb, especially in that part thereof which is termed Me|sa, as he would say the
M[...]an; and in that other which hath got the Denomination of Milasea. Its Height is commonly
of five or six Foot; yet sometimes it is of such a tall Growth, as doth surpass the length of a
Lance, but that is only when it meeteth with a sweet, easie, warm, wet and well-soaked Soil, (as
is the ground of the Territory of Olone, and that of Rasea, near to Preneste in Sabinia) and that it
want not for Rain enough about the Season of the Fishers Holydays, and the Estival Solstice.
There are many Trees whose Height is by it very far exceeded, and you might call it
Dendromalache by the Authority of Theophrastus. The Plant 397 every year perisheth; the Tree,
neither in the Trunk, Root, Bark or Boughs, being durable.

From the Stalk of this Pantagruelian Plant there issue forth several large and great Branches,
whose Leaves have thrice as much length as breadth, always green, roughish and rugged like the
Alcanet, or Spanish Buglose, hardish, slit round about like unto a Sickle, or as the Saxifragum,
Betony, and finally ending as it were in the Points of a Macedonian Spear, or of such a Lancet as
Surgeons commonly make use of in their Phlebotomizing Til|tings. The Figure and shape of the
Leaves thereof is not much different from that of those of the Ash-tree, or of Egrimony; the Herb
it self so being like the Eupato|rian Plant, that many skilful Herbalists have called it the
Domestick Eupator, and the Eupator the wild Pantagruelion. These Leaves are in equal and
parallel Distances spread around the Stalk, by the number in every Rank either of Five or Seven,
Na|ture having so highly favoured and che|rish'd this Plant, that she hath richly a|dorned it with
these two odd, divine and mysterious Numbers. The Smell thereof is somewhat strong, and not
very pleasing to nice, tender and delicate Noses: The Seed inclosed therein mounteth up to the
398 very top of its Stalk, and a little above it.

This is a numerous Herb; for there is no less abundance of it than of any other whatsoever. Some
of these Plants are Spherical, some Romboid, and some of an oblong shape, and all of those
either black, bright-coloured or tawny, rude to the touch, and mantled with a quickly-blasted-
away Coat, yet such a one as is of a delicious Taste and Savour to all shrill and sweetly singing
Birds, such as Linnets, Goldfinches, Larks, Canary Birds, Yellow-hammers, and others of that
Airy chir|ping Quire; but it would quite extinguish the Natural Heat and Procreative Vertue of
the Semence of any Man, who would eat much, and often of it. And although, that, of old,
amongst the Greeks there was certain kinds of Fritters and Pancakes, Buns and Tarts made
thereof, which commonly for a lickorish Daintiness were presented the Table after Supper, to
de|light the Palat, and make the Wine relish the better. Yet is it of a difficult Con|coction, and
offensive to the Stomach; for it engendreth bad and unwholsom Blood, and with its exorbitant
Heat woun|deth them with grievous, hurtful, smart and noysom Vapours. And as in divers Plants
and Trees there are two Sexes, 399 Male and Female, which is perceptible in Lawrels, Palms,
Cypresses, Oaks, Holmes, the Daffadil, Mandrake, Fearn, the Agarick, Mushrum, Birthwort,
Tur|pentine, Penny-royal, Peony, Rose of the Mount, and many other such like. Even so, in this
Herb there is a Male which beareth no Flower at all, yet it is very copious of, and abundant in
Seed. There is likeways in it a Female, which hath great store and plenty of whitish Flowers,
ser|viceable to little or no purpose; nor doth it carry in it Seed of any worth at all, at least
 397

comparable to that of the Male. It hath also a larger Leaf, and much softer than that of the Male;
nor doth it al|together grow to so great a height. This Pantagruelion is to be sown at the first
coming of the Swallows, and is to be plucked out of the Ground when the Grashoppers begin to
be a little hoarse.

400

CHAP. L. How the famous Pantagruelion ought to be prepared and wrought.

THE Herb Pantagruelion in September, under the Autumnal Equinox, is dressed and prepared
several ways, accor|ding to the various Fancies of the People, and Diversity of the Climates
wherein it groweth. The first Instruction which Pantagruel gave concerning it, was, to di|vest and
dispoil the Stalk and Stem there|of of all its Flowers and Seeds, to mace|rate and mortifie it in
Pond, Pool, or Lake-water, which is to be made run a little for five days together, if the Season
be dry, and the Water hot; or for full nine or twelve days, if the weather be cloudish, and the
Water cold: Then must it be parched before the Sun, till it be drained of its Moisture: After this it
is in the Shadow, where the Sun shines not, to be peeled, and its Rind pulled off: Then are the
Fibres and Strings thereof to be parted, (wherein, as we have already 401 said, consisteth its
prime Vertue, Price, and Efficacy) and severed from the woody part thereof, which is
improfitable, and serveth hardly to any other use, than to make a clear and glistering Blaze, to
kin|dle the Fire, and for the Play, Pastime and Disport of little Children, to blow up Hogs
Bladders, and make them rat|tle. Many times some use is made there|of by tipling, sweet-lipped
Bibbers, who out of it frame Quills and Pipes, through which they with their Liquor-attractive
Breath suck up the new dainty Wine from the Bung of the Barrel. Some modern Pantagruelists,
to shun and avoid that ma|nual Labour, which such a separating and partitional Work would of
necessity re|quire, employ certain Catarractick Instru|ments, oomposed and formed after the
same manner that the froward, pettish and angry Iuno did hold the Fingers of both her hands
interwovenly clenched together, when she would have hindred the Child|birth Delivery of
Alcmena, at the Nativi|ty of Hercules; and athwart those Cata|racts they break and bruise to very
Trash the woody parcels, thereby to preserve the better the Fibres, which are the pre|cious and
excellent parts. In, and with this sole Operation do these acquiesce and are contented, who,
contrary to the recei|ved 402 Opinion of the whole Earth, and in in a manner paradoxical to all
Philoso|phers, gain their Livelihoods backwards, and by recoiling. But those that love to hold it
at a higher rate, and prize it ac|cording to its Value, for their own great|er Profit, do the very same
which is told us of the recreation of the three fatal Si|ster Parques, or of the nocturnal Exercise of
the noble Circe; or yet of the Excuse which Penelope made to her fond wooing Youngsters and
effeminate Courtiers, du|ring the long Absence of her Husband Ulysses.

By these means is this Herb put into a way to display its inestimable Vertues, whereof I will
discover a part: (for to relate all is a thing impossible to do) I have already interpreted and
exposed be|fore you the Denomination thereof. I find that Plants have their Names given and
bestowed upon them after several ways: Some got the Name of him who first found them out,
knew them, sowed them, improved them by Culture, quali|fied them to a tractability, and
appropri|ated them to the uses and subserviences they were fit for: As the Mercuriale from
 398

Mercury, Panacee from Panace the Daugh|ter of Esculapius, in Armois from Artemis, who is
Diana; Eupatorie from the King 403 Eupator; Telephion from Telephus; Euphor|bium from
Euphorbus, King Iuba's Physici|an; Clymenos from Clymenus; Alchibiadi|um from Alcibiades;
Gentiane from Gentius King of Sclavonia, and so forth, through a great many other Herbs or
Plants. Tru|ly, in ancient Times, this Prerogative of imposing the Inventors Name upon an Herb
found out by him, was held in a so great account and estimation, that as a Controversie arose
betwixt Neptune and Pallas, from which of them two that Land should receive its Denomination,
which had been equally found out by them both together, though thereafter it was called and had
the Apellation of A|thens, from Athene, which is Minerva: Just so would Lynceus King of
Scythia have treacherously slain the young Trip|tolemus, whom Ceres had sent to shew unto
Mankind the Invention of Corn, which until then had been utterly un|known, to the end, that after
the mur|ther of the Messenger (whose Death he made account to have kept secret) he might, by
imposing with the less suspicion of false dealing, his own Name upon the said found out Seed,
acquire unto himself an immortal Honour and Glory, for ha|ving been the Inventor of a Grain so
pro|fitable and necessary to, and for the use of 404 Humane Life. For the wickedness of which
Treasonable Attempt he was by Ceres transformed into that wild Beast, which by some is called
a Lynx, and by others an Oince. Such also was the Am|bition of others upon the like occasion, as
appeareth by that, very sharp Wars, and of a long continuance, have been made of old betwixt
some Residentary Kings in Capadocia, upon this only De|bate, of whose Name a certain Herb
should have the Appellation; by reason of which difference, so troublesom and expensive to
them all, it was by them cal|led Polemonion, and by us for the same Cause termed Make-bate.

Other Herbs and Plants there are, which retain the Names of the Countries from whence they
were transported: As the Median Apples from Media, where they first grew; Punick Apples from
Pu|nicia, (that is to say, Carthage;) Ligusti|cum (which we call Louage) from Liguria the Coast
of Genoua; Rubarb from a Flood in Barbary (as Ammianus attesteth) called Ru; Sautonica from
a Region of that Name; Fenugreek from Greece; Ga|stanes from a Country so called; Persicarie
from Persia; Sabine from a Territory of that Appellation; Staechas from the Stae|chad Islands;
Spica Celtica from the Land 405 of the Celtick Gauls; and so throughout a great many other,
which were tedious to enumerate. Some others again have ob|tained their Denominations by way
of Antiphrasis, or Contrariety; as, Absinth, because it is contrary to [...]; for it is bitter to the taste
in drinking; Holosteon, as if it were all Bones, whilst on the con|trary, there is no frailer, tenderer
nor britler Herb in the whole Production of Nature than it.

There are some other sorts of Herbs, which have got their Names from their Vertues and
Operatious; as Aristolochie, because it helpeth Women in Child-birth; Lichen, for that it cureth
the Disease of that name; Mallow, because it mollifi|eth; Callithricum, because it maketh the
Hair of a bright Colour; Alyssum, Ephe|merum, Bechium, Nasturtium, Aneban, and so forth
through many more.

Other some there are which have ob|tained their Names from the admirable Qualities that are
found to be in them; as Heliotropium (which is the Marigold) because it followeth the Sun; so
that at the Sun rising it displayeth and spreads it self out, at his ascending it mounteth, at his
declining it waineth; and when he is set it is close shut; Adianton, because al|though it grow near
unto watry places, 406 and albeit you should let it lie in Water a long time, it will nevertheless
retain no Moisture nor Humidity; Hierachia, Erin|gium, and so throughout a great many more.
 399

There are also a great many Herbs, and Plants, which have retained the very same Names of the
Men and Women who have been metamorphosed and trans|formed in them; as from Daphne the
Law|rel is called also Daphne; Myrrhe from Myrrha the Daughter of Cinarus; Pythis from
Pythis; Cinara (which is the Arti|chock) from one of that name; Narcis|sus, with Saffran,
Similax, and divers o|thers.

Many Herbs likewise have got their Names of those things which they seem to have some
Resemblance; as Hippuris, because it hath the likeness of a Horses Tail; Alopecuris, because it
representeth in similitude the Tail of a Fox; Psyllion, from a Flea which it resembleth;
Del|phinium, for that it is like a Dolphin Fish; Buglosse is so called, because it is an Herb like an
Oxes Tongue; Iris, so called, be|cause in its Flowers it hath some resem|blance of the Rain-bow;
Myosata, because it is like the Ear of a Mouse; Coronopus, for that it is of the likeness of a
Crows Foot: A great many other such there are, which here to recite were needless. Fur|thermore,
407 as there are Herbs and Plants which have had their Names from those of Men, so by a
reciprocal Denominati|on have the Surnames of many Families taken their Origin from them; as
the Fa|bii, à fabis, Beans; the Pisons, à pisis, Pease; the Lentuli from Lentils; the Cicerons, à
Ciceribus, vel Ciceris, a sort of Pulse called Cichepeason, and so forth. In some Plants and Herbs
the resemblance or likeness hath been taken from a higher Mark or Object, as when we say
Venus Navil, Ve|nus Hair, Venus Tub, Iupiter's Beard, Iu|piter's Eye, Mars's Blood, the
Hermodactyl or Mercury's Fingers, which are all of them Names of Herbs, as there are a great
many more of the like Appellation. Others again have received their Deno|mination from their
Forms; such as the Trefoil, because it is three-leaved; Penta|phylon, for having five Leaves;
Serpolet, because it creepeth along the ground; Helixine, Petast, Myrobalon, which the Ara|bians
call Been, as if you would say an Ackorne; for it hath a kind of resemblance thereto, and withal is
very oily.

408

CHAP. LI. Why is it called Pantagruelion, and of the admirable Vertues thereof.

BY such like means of attaining to a Denomination (the fabulous ways being only from thence
excepted; for the Lord forbid that we should make use of any Fables in this a so venerable
Hi|story) is this Herb called Pantagruelion; for Pantagruel was the Inventor thereof: I do not say
of the Plant it self, but of a certain use which it serves for, exceeding odious and hateful to
Thieves and Rob|bers, unto whom it is more contrarious and hurtful than the Strangle-weed,
Choak|fitch is to the Flax, the Cats-tail to the Brakes, the Sheavgrass to the Mowers of Hay, the
Fitches to the Chickny Pease, the Darnel to Barley, the Hatchet Fitch to the Lentil Pulse, the
Antramium to the Beans, Tares to Wheat, Ivy to Walls, the Water Lilly to lecherous Monks, the
Birchen Rod to the Scholars of the Col|ledge of Navarre in Paris, Colewort to 409 the Vine-tree,
Garlick to the Load-stone, Onyons to the sight, Fearn-seed to Wo|men with Child, Willow Grain
to vici|ous Nuns, the Yew-tree shade to those that sleep under it, Wolfsbane to Wolves and
Libbards, the Smell of Fig-tree to mad Bulls, Hemlock to Goslings, Pur|slane to the Teeth, or Oil
to Trees: For we have seen many of those Rogues by vertue and right application of this Herb
finish their Lives, short and long, after the manner of Phillis Queen of Thra|cia, of Benosus
 400

Emperor of Rome, of Ama|ta King Latinus's Wife, of Iphus, Autolicus, Lycambe, Arachne,
Phaedra, Leda, Achius King of Lydia, and many thousands more; who were chiefly angry and
vexed at this Disaster therein, that with|out being otherways sick, evil dispo|sed in their Bodies,
by a touch only of the Pantagruelian, they came on a suddain to have the passage obstructed,
and their Pipes (through which were wont to bolt so many jolly Sayings, and to enter so many
luscious Morsels) stopped, more cleaverly, than ever could have done the Squinancy.

Others have been heard most wofully to lament, at the very instant when Atro|pos was about to
cut the thred of their Life, that Pantagruel held them by the Gorge. 410 But (well-a-day) it was
not Pantagruel; he never was an Executioner: It was the Pantagruelian, manufactured and
fashioned into an Halter, and serving in the place and Office of a Cravat. In that verily they
solaecized, and spoke improperly, un|less you would excuse them by a Trope, which alloweth us
to posit the Inventor in the place of the thing invented; as when Ceres is taken for Bread, and
Bacchus put instead of Wine. I swear to you here, by the good and frolick Words which are to
issue out of that Wine-bottle which is a cooling below in the Copper Vessel full of Fountain
Water, that the noble Pan|tagruel never snatch'd any Man by the Throat, unless it was such a one
as was al|together careless and neglective of those obviating Remedies, which were preven|tive
of the Thirst to come.

It is also termed Pantagruelion by a Si|militude: For Pantagruel, at the very first minute of his
Birth, was no less tall than this Herb is long, whereof I speak unto you, his measure having been
then taken the more easie, that he was born in the Season of the great Drowth, when they were
busiest in the gathering of the said Herb, to wit, at that time when Ica|rus's Dog, with his fiery
bawling and barking at the Sun, maketh the whole 411 World Troglodytick, and enforceth People
every where to hide themselves in Dens and subterranean Caves. It is likeways called
Pantagruelion, because of the nota|ble and singular Qualities, Vertues and Properties thereof:
For as Pantagruel hath been the Idea, Pattern, Prototype and Exemplary of all Iovial Perfection
and Accomplishment (in the truth whereof I believe there is none of you, Gentle|men Drinkers,
that putteth any Question) so in this Pantagruelion have I found so much Efficacy and Energy,
so much Compleatness and Excellency, so much Exquisiteness and Ra[...]ity, and so many
admirable Effects and Operations of a transcendent Nature, that if the Worth and Vertue thereof
had been known, when those Trees, by the relation of the Prophet, made Election of a wooden
King, to rule and govern over them, it with|out all doubt would have carried away from all the
rest the Plurality of Votes and Suffrages.

Shall I yet say more? If Oxilus the Son of Orius had begotten this Plant upon his Sister
Hamadryas, he had taken more de|light in the Value and Perfection of it a|lone, then in all his
Eight Children, so highly renowned by our ablest Mythologi|ans, that they have sedulously
recommen|ded 412 their Names to the never-failing Tui|tion of an eternal Remembrance. The
eldest Child was a Daughter, whose Name was Vine; the next born was a Boy, and his Name was
Fig-tree; the third was cal|led Walnut-tree; the fourth Oak; the fifth Sorbaple-tree; the sixth Ash;
the se|venth Poplar; and the last had the Name of Elm, who was the greatest Surgeon in his time.
I shall forbear to tell you, how the Juyce or Sap thereof, being pou|red and distilled within the
Ears, killeth every kind of Vermin, that by any man|ner of Putrefaction cometh to be bred and
engendred there; and destroyeth also any whatsoever other Animal that shall have entred in
thereat. If likewise you put a little of the said Juyce within a Pale or Bucket full of Water, you
 401

shall see the Water instantly turn and grow thick therewith, as if it were Milk-Curds, whereof the
Vertue is so great, that the Water thus curded is a present Remedy for Horses subject to the
Cholick, and such as strike at their own Flanks. The Root thereof well boiled, mollifieth the
Joynts, softneth the hardness of shrunk in Sinews, is every way comfortable to the Nerves, and
good against all Cramps and Convul|sions, as likeways all cold and knotty Gouts. If you would
speedily heal a 413 Burning, whether occasioned by Water or Fire, apply thereto a little raw
Panta|gruelion, that is to say, take it so as it cometh out of the Ground, without be|stowing any
other Preparation or Com|position upon it; but have a special Care to change it for some fresher,
in lieu there|of, as soon as you shall find it waxing dry upon the Sore.

Without this Herb Kitchins would be detested, the Tables of Dining-Rooms abhorred, although
there were great Plen|ty and Variety of most dainty and sum|ptuous Dishes of Meat set down
upon them; and the choicest Beds also, how richly soever adorned with Gold, Silver, Amber,
Ivory, Porphyr, and the mixture of most precious Metals, would without it yield no Delight or
Pleasure to the Reposers in them: Without it Millers could neither carry Wheat, nor any o|ther
kind of Corn, to the Mill; nor would they be able to bring back from thence Flour, or any other
sort of Meal whatsoever. Without it, how could the Papers and Writs of Lawyers Clients be
brought to the Bar? Seldom is the Mortar, Lime or Plaister brought to the Work|house without it.
Without it how should the Water be got out of a Draw-Well? In what case would Tabellions,
Notaries, 414 Copists, Makers of Counterpanes, Wri|ters, Clerks, Secretaries, Scriveners, and
such like Persons be without it? Were it not for it, what would become of the Toll-rates and
Rent-rolls? Would not the noble Art of Printing perish without it? Whereof could the Chassis or
Paper-Win|dows be made? How should the Bells be rung? The Altars of Isis are adorned
therewith; the Pastophorian Priests are therewith clad and accoutred; and whole Humane Nature
covered and wrapped therein, at its first position and producti|on in, and into this World: All the
Luni|fick Trees of Seres, the Bumbast and Cot|ton Bushes in the Territories near the Per|sian Sea
and Gulph of Bengala; the Ara|bian Swans, together with the Plants of Maltha, do not all of
them cloath, attire, and apparel so many Persons as this one Herb alone. Soldiers are now-a-days
much better sheltered under it, than they were in former times, when they lay in Tents covered
with Skins. It overshadows the Theaters and Amphitheaters from the heat of a scorching Sun: It
begirdeth and encompasseth Forests, Chases, Parks, Cop|ses and Groves, for the pleasure of
Hun|ters: It descendeth into the Salt and Fresh of both Sea and River-Waters, for the profit of
Fishers: By it are Boots of 415 all sizes, Buskins, Gamashes, Brodkins, Gambados, Shooes,
Pumps, Slippers, and every cobled Ware wrought and made steddable for the use of Man: By it
the Butt and Rover-bows are strong, the Cross-bows bended, and the Slings made fixed: And, as
if it were an Herb every whit as holy as the Verveine, and reverenced by Ghosts, Spirits,
Hobgoblins, Fiends and Phantoms, the Bodies of deceased Men are never buried without it.

I will proceed yet further, by the means of this fine Herb, the invisible Substances are visibly
stopped, arrested, taken, detain|ed, and Prisoner-like committed to their receptive Goals. Heavy
and ponderous Weights are by it heaved, lifted up, turn|ed, veered, drawn, carried, and every way
moved quickly, nimbly and easily, to the great Profit and Emolument of Humane Kind. When I
perpend with my self these and such like marvellous Ef|fects of this wonderful Herb, it seemeth
strange unto me, how the Invention of so useful a Practice did escape, through so many by-past
Ages, the Knowledge of the Ancient Philosophers, considering the in|estimable Utility which
from thence pro|ceeded; and the immense Labour, which without it, they did undergo in their
 402

pri|stine Elucubrations. By vertue thereof, 416 through the retention of some Aerial Gusts, are
the huge Rambarges, mighty Gallioons, the large Floyts, the Chiliander, the Myriander Ships
launched from their Stations, and set a going at the Pleasure and Arbitriment of their Rulers,
Con|ders and Steersmen. By the help thereof those remote Nations, whom Nature seem|ed so
unwilling to have discovered to us, and so desirous to have kept them still in abscondito, and
hidden from us, that the ways through which their Countries were to be reached unto, were not
only totally unknown, but judged also to be altogether impermeable and inaccessible, are now
ar|rived to us, and we to them.

Those Voyages outreached Flights of Birds, and far surpass'd the Scope of Fea|ther'd Fowls, how
swift soever they had been on the Wing, and notwithstanding that advantage which they have of
us in swimming through the Air. Taproban hath seen the Heaths of Lapland, and both the Iava's
the Riphaean Mountains, wide distant Phebol shall see Theleme, and the Islanders drink of the
Flood Euphrates: By it the chill-mouthed Boreas hath sur|veyed the parched Mansions of the
tor|rid Auster, and Eurus visited the Regions which Zephirus hath under his Command; yea, in
such sort have Interviews been 417 made, by the assistance of this Sacred Herb, that maugre
Longitudes and Latitudes, and all the Variations of the Zones. The Periae|cian People, and
Antoecian, Amphiscian, He|teroscian, and Periscian had oft tendred and received mutual Visits
to, and from other, upon all the Climates. These strange Ex|ploits bred such Astonishment to the
Ce|lestial Intelligences, to all the Marine and Terrestrial Gods, that they were on a sud|den all
afraid: From which Amazement, when they saw how, by means of this blest Pantagruelion, the
Arctick People lookt upon the Antarctick, scowred the Atlantick Ocean, passed the Tropicks,
pushed through the Torrid Zone, measured all the Zodiack, sported under the Equinoctial, having
both Poles level with their Horizon; they judg|ed it high time to call a Council, for their own
Safety and Preservation.

The Olympick Gods being all and each of them affrighted at the sight of such At|chievements,
said, Pantagruel hath shapen Work enough for us, and put us more to a plunge, and nearer our
Wits end, by this sole Herb of his, then did of old the Aloids, by overturning Mountains. He very
speedily is to be married, and shall have many Children by his Wife: It lies not in our Power to
oppose this Destiny; for it hath passed through the Hands and 418 Spindles of the Fatal Sisters,
Necessi|ties inexorable Daughters. Who knows but by his Sons may be found out an Herb of
such another Vertue and prodigi|ous Energy, as that by the Aid thereof, in using it aright
according to their Fathers Skill, they may contrive a way for Hu|mane Kind to pierce into the
high Aerian Clouds, get up unto the Spring-head of the Hail, take an Inspection of the snowy
Sources, and shut and open as they please the Sluces from whence proceed the Flood-gates of the
Rain; then prosecuting their Aetherial Voyage, they may step in unto the Lightning Work-house
and Shop, where all the Thunderbolts are forged, where seizing on the Magazin of Hea|ven, and
Store-house of our Warlike Fire Munition, they may discharge a bouncing Peal or two of
thundering Ordinance, for Joy of their Arrival to these new su|pernal places; and charging those
Toni|trual Guns afresh, turn the whole force of that Artillery against our selves, wherein we most
confided: Then is it like they will set forward to invade the Territories of the Moon, whence
passing through both Mercury and Venus, the Sun will serve them for a Torch, to shew the way
from Mars to Iupiter and Saturn: We shall not then be able to resist the Impetuosity of 419 their
Intrusion, nor put a stoppage to their entring in at all whatever Regions, Domicils or Mansions of
the Spangled Firmament they shall have any mind to see, to stay in, to travel through for their
 403

Re|creation: All the Celestial Signs together, with the Constellations of the Fixed Stars, will
joyntly be at their Devotion then: Some will take up their Lodging at the Ram, some at the Bull,
and others at the Twins; some at the Crab, some at the Li|on Inn, and others at the Sign of the
Vir|gin; some at the Balance, others at the Scorpion, and others will be quartered at the Archer;
some will be harboured at the Goat, some at the Water-pourer's Sign, some at the Fishes; some
will lie at the Crown, some at the Harp, some at the Golden Eagle and the Dolphin; some at the
Flying Horse, some at the Ship, some at the great, some at the little Bear; and so throughout the
glistning Hostories of the whole twinkling Asteristick Welkin: There will be Sojourners come
from the Earth, who longing after the taste of the sweet Cream, of their own scumming off, from
the best Milk of all the Dairy of the Galaxy, will set themselves at Table down with us, drink of
our Nectar and Ambrosia, and take to their own Beds 420 at Night for Wives and Concubines
our fairest Goddesses, the only means whereby they can be Deify'd. A Junto hereupon being
convocated, the better to consult upon the manner of obviating a so dread|ful Danger, Iove,
sitting in his Presi|dential Throne, asked the Votes of all the other Gods, which, after a profound
Deliberation amongst themselves on all Contingencies, they freely gave at last, and then resolved
unanimously to with|stand the Shock of all whatsoever sub|lunary Assaults.

421

CHAP. LII. How a certain kind of Pantagruelion is of that nature, that the Fire is not able
to consume it.

I Have already related to you great and admirable things; but if you might be induced to
adventure upon the hazard of believing some other Divinity of this Sacred Pantagruelion, I very
willingly would tell it you. Believe it if you will, or otherways believe it not, I care not which of
them you do, they are both alike to me, it shall be sufficient for my purpose to have told you the
Truth, and the Truth I will tell you: But to enter in thereat, because it is of a knaggy, difficult and
rugged access, this is the Question which I ask of you, If I had put within this Bottle two Pints,
the one of Wine and the other of Water, throughly and exactly mingled together, how would you
unmix them? After what manner would you go about to sever them, and separate the one Liquor
from 422 the other, in such sort, that you render me the Water apart, free from the Wine, and the
Wine also pure, without the In|termixture of one drop of Water; and both of them in the same
measure, quan|tity and taste that I had embottled them? Or to state the Question otherways, If
your Carr-men and Mariners, entrusted for the Provision of your Houses, with the bringing of a
certain considerable number of Tuns, Punchions, Pipes, Bar|rels and Hogsheads of Graves Wine,
or of the Wine of Orleans, Beanne and Mire|vaux, should drink out the half, and af|terwards with
Water fill up the other empty halves of the Vessels as full as be|fore; as the Limosins use to do in
their Carriages by Wains and Carts of the Wines of Argenton and Sangaultier. After that, how
would you part the Water from the Wine, and purifie them both in such a case. I understand you
well enough; your meaning is, that I must do it with an Ivy Funnel: That is written, it is true, and
the Verity thereof explored by a thousand Experiments; you have learned to do this Feat before I
see it: But those that have never known it, nor at any time have seen the like, would hardly
be|lieve that it were possible. Let us never|theless proceed.
 404

423 But put the case we were now living in the Age of Silla, Marius, Caesar, and other such
Roman Emperors; or that we were in the time of our ancient Druids, whose custom was to burn
and calcine the dead Bodies of their Parents and Lords, and that you had a mind to drink the
Ashes or Cinders of your Wives or Fathers in the infused Liquor of some good White-wine, as
Artemisia drunk the Dust and Ashes of her Husband Mansolus; or o|therways, that you did
determine to have them reserved in some fine Urn or Reli|quary Pot, how would you save the
Ashes apart, and separate them from those o|ther Cinders and Ashes into which the Fuel of the
Funeral and bustuary Fire hath been converted? Answer if you can; by my Figgins, I believe it
will trouble you so to do.

Well, I will dispatch, and tell you, that if you take of this Celestial Pantagruelion so much as is
needful to cover the Body of the Defunct, and after that you shall have inwrapped and bound
therein as hard and closely as you can the Corps of the said deceased Persons, and sowed up the
Folding-sheet with thred of the same stuff, throw it into the Fire, how great or ardent soever it be
it matters not a Straw, the Fire through this Pantagruelion 424 will burn the Body, and reduce to
Ashes the Bones thereof, and the Pantagruelion shall be not only not consumed nor burnt, but
also shall neither lose one Atom of the Ashes inclos'd within it, nor receive one Atom of the huge
bustuary heap of Ashes resulting from the blazing Confla|gration of things combustible laid
round about it, but shall at last, when taken out of the Fire, be fairer, whiter, and much cleaner
than when you did put it in at first: Therefore it is called Asbeston, which is as much to say as
incombustible. Great plenty is to be found thereof in Carpasia, as likeways in the Climate
Diasienes, at ve|ry easie rates. O how rare and admira|ble a thing it is, that the Fire which
de|voureth, consumeth and destroyeth all such things else, should cleanse, purge and whi|ten this
sole Pantagruelion Carpasian Asbe|ston! If you mistrust the Verity of this Relation, and demand
for further Con|firmation of my Assertion a Visible Sign, as the Iews, and such incredulous
Infidels use to do; take a fresh Egg, and orbicu|larly (or rather ovally) infold it within this Divine
Pantagruelion; when it is so wrap|ped up, put it in the hot Embers of a Fire, how great or ardent
soever it be, and having left it there as long as you will, you shall at last, at your taking it 425 out
of the Fire, find the Egg roasted hard, and as it were burnt, without any Alte|ration, Change,
Mutation, or so much as a Calefaction of the Sacred Pantagruelion: For less than a Million of
Pounds Sterling, modified, taken down and amoderated to the twelfth part of one Four Pence
Half-penny Farthing, you are able to put it to a trial, and make Proof thereof.

Do not think to overmatch me here, by paragoning with it, in the way of a more eminent
Comparison, the Salaman|der. That is a Fib; for albeit a little or|dinary Fire, such as is used in
Dining-Rooms and Chambers, gladden, chear up, exhilerate and quicken it, yet may I
war|rantably enough assure, that in the flaming Fire of a Furnace, it will, like any other animated
Creature, be quickly suffocated, choaked, consumed and destroyed. We have seen the
Experiment thereof, and Galen many ages ago hath clearly demon|strated and confirmed it, Lib.
3. De tempo|ra mentis. And Dioscorides maintaineth the same Doctrine, Lib. 2. Do not here
in|stance in competition with this Sacred Herb the Feather Allum, or the wooden Tower of
Pyrce, which Lucius Sylla was never able to get burnt; for that Arche|laus, Governour of the
Town for Mithri|dates King of Pontus, had plaistered it all 426 over on the out-side with the said
Allum. Nor would I have you to compare there|with the Herb, which Alexander Cornelius called
Fonem, and said that it had some re|semblance with that Oak which bears the Misselto; and that
it could neither be con|sumed, nor receive any manner of pre|judice by Fire, nor by Water, no
 405

more than the Misselto, of which was built (said he) the so renowned Ship Argos. Search where
you please for those that will be|lieve it, I in that Point desire to be excu|sed. Neither would I
wish you to paral|lel therewith (although I cannot deny but that it is of a very marvellous Nature)
that sort of Tree which groweth alongst the Mountains of Brianson and Ambrun, which
produceth out of his Root the good Agarick; from its Body it yieldeth unto us a so excellent
Rosin, that Galen hath been bold to equal it to the Turpentine: Upon the delicate Leaves thereof
it retaineth for our use that sweet Heavenly Honey, which is called the Manna: And although it
be of a gummy, oily, fat and greasie Sub|stance, it is notwithstanding unconsuma|ble by any Fire.
It is in Greek and Latin called Larix. The Alpinesi name it Melze. The Antenotides and Venetians
term it La|rege; which gave occasion to that Castle in Piedmont to receive the Denomination 427
of Larignum, by putting Iulius Caesar to a stand at his return from amongst the Gauls.

Iulius Caesar commanded all the Yeo|mens, Boors, Hinds, and other Inhabitants in, near unto,
and about the Alps and Pi|edmont, to bring all manner of Victuals and Provision for an Army to
those places, which on the Military Road he had ap|pointed to receive them for the use of his
marching Soldiery; to which Ordinance all of them were obedient, save only those as were
within the Garrison of Larignum; who, trusting in the natural Strength of the place, would not
pay their Contribu|tion. The Emperor purposing to cha|stise them for their refusal, caused his
whole Army to march streight towards that Ca|stle, before the Gate whereof was erected a
Tower, built of huge big Sparrs and Rafters of the Larch Tree, fast bound to|gether with Pins and
Pegs of the same Wood, and interchangeably laid on one another, after the fashion of a Pile or
Stack of Timber, set up in the Fabrick thereof to such an apt and convenient heighth, that from
the Parapet above the Portcullis they thought with Stones and Leavers to beat off and drive away
such as should approach thereto.

428 When Caesar had understood that the chief Defence of those within the Castle did consist in
Stones and Clubs, and that it was not an easie matter to sling, hurl, dart, throw, or cast them so
far as to hin|der the Approaches, he forthwith com|manded his Men to throw great store of
Bavins, Faggots and Fascines round about the Castle; and when they had made the Heap of a
competent height to put them all in a fair Fire, which was thereupon incontinently done; the Fire
put amidst the Faggots was so great and so high, that it covered the whole Castle, that they might
well imagine the Tower would thereby be altogether burnt to Dust, and demolished.
Nevertheless, contrary to all their Hopes and Expectations, when the Flame ceased, and that the
Faggots were quite burnt and consumed, the Tow|er appeared as whole, sound and entire as ever.
Caesar, after a serious Consideration had thereof, commanded a Compass to be taken, without
the distance of a Stone Cast from the Castle round about it there, with Ditches and
Entrenchments to form a Blockade; which when the Loringians understood, they rendred
themselves upon Terms: And then, by a Relation from them it was that Caesar learned the
admira|ble Nature and Vertue of this Wood; 429 which, of it self, produceth neither Fire, Flame
nor Coal; and would therefore in regard of that rare Quality of Incombu|stibility, have been
admitted into this Rank and Degree of a true Pantagruelional Plant; and that so much the rather,
for that Pan|tagruel directed that all the Gates, Doors, Angiports, Windows, Gutters, frettized
and embowed Seelings, Cans, and other whatsoever wooden Furniture in the Abby of Theleme
should be all materiated of this kind of Timber· He likeways caused to cover therewith the
Sterns, Stems, Cook-rooms or Laps, Hatches, Decks, Coursies, Bends and Walls of his Carricks,
Ships, Galli|oons, Galays, Brigantins, Foysts, Frigates, Crears, Barks, Floyts, Pinks, Pinnaces,
 406

Huys, Catches, Capers, and other Vessels of his Thalassian Arcenal; were it not that the Wood or
Timber of the Larch-tree, being put within a large and ample Fur|nace full of huge vehemently
flaming Fire, proceeding from the Fuel of other sorts and kinds of Wood, cometh at last to be
corrupted, consumed, dissipated and destroyed, as are Stones in a Lime-kill: But this
Pantagruelion Asbestin is rather by the Fire renewed and cleansed, than by the Flames thereof
consumed or changed. Therefore,
430
Arabians, Indians, Sabaeans,
Sing not in Hymns and Io Paeans;
Your Incense, Myrrh, or Ebony:
Come, here, a nobler Plant to see;
And carry home, at any rate,
Some Seed, that you may propagate.
If in your Soil it takes, to Heaven
A thousand thousand Thanks be given;
And say with France, it goodly goes
Where the Pantagruelion grows.

The End of the Third Book.

THE TABLE OF THE FIRST PART.

THE Author's Prologue.

 Page 1.

Of the Genealogy and Antiquity of Gargantua.

 Chap. 1. p. 1

The Antidoted Conundrums found in an anci|ent Monument.

 ch. 2. p. 5

How Gorgantua was carried eleven Months in his Mothers Belly.

 ch. 3. p 9

How Gargamelle, being big with Gargan|tua, did eat a huge deal of Tripe.
 407

 ch. 4. p. 12

How they chirped over their Cups.

 ch. 5. p. 14

How Gargantua was born in a strange man|ner.

 ch. 6. p. 19

After what manner Gargantua had his Name given him; and how he tipled, bibbed and
curried the Can.

 ch. 7. p 23

How they apparelled Gargantua.

 ch. 8. p. 26

The Colours and Liveries of Gargantua.

 ch. 9 p. 31

Of that which is signified by the Colours White and Blew.

 ch. 10. p. 35

Of the youthful Age of Gargantua

 ch. 11. p. 41

Of Gargantua's wooden Horses.

 ch. 12. p. 45

How Gargantua's wonderful Understanding became known to his Father Grangousier,

by the Invention of a Torchcul or Wipe-breech.

 ch. 13. p. 49

How Gargantua was taught Latin by a So|phister.

 ch. 14. p. 55

How Gargantua was put under other School|masters.

 408

 ch. 15. p. 58

How Gargantua was sent to Paris, and of the huge great Mare that he rode on: How she
destroyed the Ox-flies of the Beauce.

 ch. 16 p. 61

How Gargantua payed his Beverage to the Parisians, and how he took away the great
Bells of our Ladies Church.

 ch. 17. p. 64

How Janotus de Bragmardo was sent to Gargantua to recover the great Bells.

 ch. 18. p. 67

The Harangue of Mr. Jonatus de Bragmar|do, for the recovery of the Bells.

 ch. 19. p. 69

How the Sophister carried away his Cloath, and how he had a Suit in Law against the
other Masters.

 ch. 20. p. 72

The Study of Gargantua, according to the Discipline of his School-masters the

Sophi|sters.

 ch. 21. p. 76

The Games of Gargantua.

 ch. 22. p. 80

How Gargantua was instructed by Ponno|crates, and in such sort disciplinated, that he
lost not one hour of the day.

 ch. 23. p. 86

How Gargantua spent his time in rainy Wea|ther.

 ch. 24. p. 97

How there was great Strife and Debate rai|sed betwixt the Cake-bakers of Lerne, and
those of Gargantua's Country; whereup|on were waged great Wars.
 409

 ch. 25. p. 100

How the Inhabitants of Lerne, by the Com|mandment of Picrochole their King, as|saulted
the Shepherds of Gargantua unex|pectedly and on a sudden.

 ch. 26. p. 105

How a Monk of Sevile saved the Closs of the Abby from being ravag'd by the Enemy.

 ch. 27. p. 108

How Picrochole stormed and took by assault the Rock Clermond; and of Grangou|siers
Unwillingness and Aversion from the Undertaking of War.

 ch. 28. p. 116

The Tenor of a Letter which Grangousier wrote to his Son Gargantua.

 ch. 29. p. 120

How Ulrich Gallet was sent unto Picro|chole.

 ch. 30. p. 122

The Speech made by Gallet to Picrochole.

 ch. 31. p. 123

How Grangousier to buy Peace, caused the Cakes to be restored.

 ch. 32. p. 127

How some Ministers of Picrochole, by hair|brain'd Counsel put him in extream danger.

 ch. 33. p. 132

How Gargantua left the City of Paris to succour his Country, and how Gymnast
encountred with the Enemy.

 ch. 34. p. 138

How Gymnast very nimbly killed Captain Tripet, and others of Picrochole's Men.

 ch. 35. p. 141.

 410

How Gargantua demolished the Castle at the Ford of Vede, and how they pass'd the
Ford.

 ch. 36. p. 145

How Gargantua in combing his Head made the great Cannon Ball fall out of his Hair.

 ch. [...]7. p. 149

How Gargantua did eat up six Pilgrims in a Sallet.

 ch. 38. p. 152

How the Monk was feasted by Gargantua, and of the jovial Discourse they had at
Sup|per.

 ch. 39. p. 156

Why Monks are the Out-casts of the World; and wherefore some have bigger Noses than
others.

 ch. 40. p. 161

How the Monk made Gargantua sleep, and of his Hours and Breviaries.

 ch. 41. p. 165

How the Monk encouraged his Fellow Cham|pions, and how he hanged upon a Tree.

 ch. 43. p. 168

How the Scouts and Fore-party of Picrochole were met with by Gargantua, and how the
Monk slew Captain Drawforth, and then was taken Prisoner by his Enemies.

 ch. 43. p. 171

How the Monk rid himself of his Keepers, and how Pricochole's Forlorn Hope was
defeated.

 ch. 44. p. 176

How the Monk carried along with him the Pilgrims, and of the good Words that
Gran|gousier gave them.

 ch. 45. p. 179

 411

How Grangousier did very kindly entertain Touchefaucet his Prisoner.

 ch. 46. p. 184

How Grangousier sent for his Legions, and how Touchfaucet slew Rashcalf, and was
afterwards executed by the Command of Picrochole.

 ch. 47. p. 188

How Gargantua set upon Picrochole, with|in the Rock Clermond, and utterly de|feated
the Army of the said Picrochole.

 ch. 48. p. 192

How Picrochole in his Flight fell into great Misfortunes, and what Gargantua did after
the Battle.

 ch. 49. p. 197

Gargantua's Speech to the Vanquished.

 ch. 50 p. 199

How the victorious Gargantuists were recom|pensed after the Battle.

 ch. 51. p. 204

How Gargantua caused to be built for the Monk the Abby of Theleme.

 ch. 52. p. 207

How the Abby of Thelemites was Built and Endowed.

 ch. 53. p. 210

The Inscription set upon the great Gate of The|leme.

 ch. 54. p. 213

What manner of Dwelling the Thelemites had.

 ch. 55. p. 217

How the Men and Women of the Religious Or|der of Theleme were apparelled.

 ch. 56. p. 219

 412

How the Thelemites governed, and of their manner of Living.

 ch. 57. p. 224

A Prophetical Riddle in the Style of Merly[...].

 ch. 58. p. 227

The Table of the Second Part.

THE Author's Prologue.

 Page 4

The Original and Antiquity of the great Pantagruel.

 ch. 9. p. 1

Of the Nativity of the most dread and re|doubted Pantagruel.

 ch. 2. p. 17

Of the Grief wherewith Gargantua was mo|ved at the Decease of his Wife Badebec.

 ch. 3. p. 22

Of the Infancy of Pantagruel.

 ch. 4. p. 26

Of the Acts of the Noble Pantagruel in his youthful Age.

 ch. 5. p. 33

How Pantagruel met with a Limousin, who affected to speak in Learned Phrase.

 ch. 6 p. 36

How Pantagruel came to Paris, and of the choice Books of the Library of St. Victor.

 ch. 7. p. 40
 413

How Pantagruel being at Paris, received Let|ters from his Father Gargantua, and the
Copy of them.

 ch. 8. p. 48

How Pantagruel found Panurge, whom he loved all his Life-time.

 ch. 9. p. 57

How Pontagruel decided a Cause which was wonderfully intricate and obscure; whereby
he was reputed to have a most admirable Iudgment.

 ch. 10. p. 64

How the Lords of Kissebreech and Suckfist did plead before Pantagruel without
Ad|vocates.

 ch. 11. p. 71

How the Lord of Suckfist pleaded before Pan|tagruel.

 ch. 12. p. 77

How Pantagruel gave Iudgment upon the Difference of the two Lords.

 ch. 13. p. 84

How Panurge related the manner how he esca|ped out of the hands of the Turks.

 ch. 15. p. 88

How Panurge shewed a very new way to build the Walls of Paris.

 ch. 15. p. 97

Of the Qualities and Conditions of Panurge.

 ch. 16. p. 104

How Panurge gained the Pardons, and marri|ed the old Women; and of the Suit in Law
which he had at Paris.

 ch. 17. p. 112

How a great Scholar of England would have argued against Pantagruel, and was
over|come by Panurge.
 414

 ch. 18. p. 118

How Panurge put to a Non-plus the English|man that argued by Signs.

 ch. 19. p. 126

How Thaumast relateth the Vertues and Know|ledge of Panurge.

 ch. 20. p. 133

How Panurge was in Love with a Lady of Paris.

 ch. 21. p. 135

How Panurge served the Parisian Lady a trick that pleased her not very well.

 ch. 22. p. 141

How Pantagruel departed from Paris, hearing News that the Dipsodes had invaded the
Land of the Amaurots: and the Cause wherefore the Leagues are so short in France.

 ch. 23. p. 146

A Letter which a Messenger brought to Pan|tagruel from a Lady of Paris; together with
the Exposition of a Posy, written in a Gold Ring.

 ch. 24. p. 148

How Panurge, Carpalin, Eusthenes and Epistemon (the Gentlemen Attendants of

Pantagruel) vanquished and discomfited Six hundred and threescore Horsmen very
cunningly.

 ch. 25. p. 154

How Pantagruel and his Company were weary in eating still salt Meats: and how
Car|palin went a hunting to have some Venison.

 ch. 26. p. 158

How Pantagruel set up one Trophy in memorial of their Valour, and Panurge another in
re|membrance of the Hares. How Pantagru|el likewise with his Farts begat little Men,
and with his Fisgs little Women. And how Panurge broke a great Staff over two Glas|ses.

 ch 27. p. 163

How Pantagruel got the Victory very strangely over the Dipsodes and the Giants.
 415

 c 28. p. 167

How Pantagruel discomfited the three hundred Giants armed with Free-stone, and
Loup|garou their Captain.

 ch. 29. p. 174

How Epistemon, who had his Head cut off, was finely handled by Panurge; and of the
News which he brought from the Devils, and damned People in Hell.

 ch. 30. p. 182

How Pantagruel entred into the City of the Amaurots, and how Panurge married K.
A|narchus to an old Lantern-carrying Hag, and made him a Crier of Green-sauce.

 ch. 31. p. 193

How Pantagruel with his Tongue covered a whole Army, and what the Author saw in his
Mouth.

 ch. 33. p. 197

How Pantagruel became sick, and the manner how he was recovered.

 ch. 33. p. 202

The Conclusion of this present Book, and the Excuse of the Author.

 ch. 34. p. 205.

The Table of the Third Part.

THE Author's Prologue.

 Page 1

How Pantagruel transported a Colony of Utopians into Dypsodie.

 ch. 1. p. 18

How Panurge was made Laird of Salmy|goudin in Dypsodie, and did waste his Revenew
before it came in.
 416

 ch. 2. p. 26

How Panurge praiseth the Debtors and Bor|rowers.

 ch. 3. p. 34

Panurge continueth his Discourse in the praise of Borrowers and Lenders.

 ch. 4. p. 44

How Pantagruel altogether abhorreth the Debtors and Borrowers.

 ch. 5. p. 51

Why new married Men were priviledged from going to the Wars.

 ch. 6. p. 56

How Panurge had a Flea in his Ear, and for|bore to wear any longer his magnificent
Cod|piece.

 ch. 7. p. 61

Why the Codpiece is held to be the chief piece of Armour amongst Warriours.

 ch. 8. p. 67

How Panurge asketh Counsel of Pantagruel whether he should marry, yea or no

 ch. 9. p. 74

How Pantagruel representeth unto Panurge the difficulty of giving Advice in the mat|ter
of Marriage; and to that purpose menti|oneth somewhat of the Homerick and Vir|gilian
Lotteries.

 ch. 10. p. 80

How Pantagruel sheweth the Trials of ones Fortune by the throwing of Dice to be
un|lawful.

 ch. 11. p. 88

How Pantagruel doth explore by the Virgilian Lottery what Fortune Panurge shall have
in his Marriage.

 ch. 12. p. 92
 417

How Pantagruel adviseth Panurge to try the future good or bad luck of his Marriage by
Dreams.

 ch. 13. p. 100

Panurge's Dream, with the Interpretation thereof.

 ch. 14. p. 112

Panurge's Excuse and Exposition of the Mo|nastick mystery concerning Pouder'd Beef.

 ch. 15. p. 124

How Pantagruel adviseth Panurge to consult with the Sibyl of Panzoust.

 ch. 16. p. 130

How Panurge spoke to the Sybil of Panzoust.

 ch. 17. p. 137

How Pantagruel and Panurge did diversly expound the Verses of the Sybil of Pan|zoust.

 ch. 18. p. 144

How Pantagruel praiseth the Counsel of dumb Men.

 ch. 19. p. 153

How Goatsnose by Signs maketh answer to Panurge.

 ch. 20. p. 162

How Panurge consulteth with an old French Poet, named Raminagrobis.

 ch. 21. p. 171

How Panurge patrocinates and defendeth the Order of the begging Friars.

 ch. 22. p. 178

How Panurge maketh the motion of a return to Raminagrobis.

 ch. 23. p. 183

How Panurge consulteth with Epistemon.

 418

 c. 24. p. 194

How Panurge consulted with Her Trippa.

 c. 25. p. 201

How Panurge consulted with Friar Ihon of the Fun|nels.

 ch. 26 p. 212

How Friar Ihon merrily and sportingly counselleth Panurge.

 ch. 27. p. 220

How Friar Ihon comforteth Panurge in the doubtfull matter of Cuckoldry.

 ch. 28. p. 227

How Pantagruel convocated together a Theologian, Physician, Lawyer and Philosopher

for extrica|ting of Panurge out of the Perplexity wherein he was.

 ch. 28. p. 242

How the Theologue, Hippothadee, giveth Counsel to Panurge in the matter and business
of his Nup|tial Enterprize.

 ch. 30. p. 247

How the Physician Rondibilis counselleth Panurge.

 ch. 31. p. 225

How Rondibilis declareth Cuckoldry to be naturally one of the Appendances of Marriage.

 ch. 32. p. 267

Rondibilis the Physicians Cure of Cuckoldry.

 ch. 33. p. 276

How Women ordinarily have the greatest longing after things prohibited.

 ch. 34. p. 283

How the Philosopher Trouillogan handleth the dif|ficulty of Marriage.

 419

 ch. 35. p. 291

A Continuation of the Answer of the Ephectick and Pyrronian Philosopher Trouillogan.

 ch. 36. p. 196

How Pantagruel perswaded Panurge to take Counsel of a Fool.

 ch. 37. p. 307

How Triboulet is set forth and blazed by Panta|gruel and Panurge.

 ch. 38. p. 315

How Pantagruel was present at the Tryal of Iudge Bridlegoose, who decided Causes and
Controversies in Law by the Chance and Fortune of the Dice.

 ch. 39. p. 322

How Bridlegoose giveth Reasons, why he looked upon those Law-Actions which he
decided by the Chance of the Dice.

 ch. 40. p. 328

How Bridlegoose relateth the History of the Reconci|lers of Parties at variance in

matters of Law.

 ch. 42. p. 334

How Suits at Law are bred at first, and how they come afterwards to their perfect growth.

 ch. 42. p. 343

How Pantagruel excuseth Bridlegoose in the mat|ter of Sentencing Actions at Law by the
Chance of the Dice.

 ch. 43. p. 352

How Pantagruel relateth a strange History of the Perplexity of Humane Iudgment.

 ch. 44. p. 358

How Panurge taketh Advice of Triboulet.

 c. 45. p. 365
 420

How Pantagruel and Panurge dive sly interpret the Words of Triboulet.

 ch. 46. p. 373

How Pantagruel nnd Panurge resolved to make a Vi|sit to the Oracle of the Holy Bottle.

 ch. 47. p. 376

How Gargantua sheweth, that the Children ought not to marry without the special
Knowledge and Ad|vice of their Fathers and Mothers.

 ch. 48. p. 381

How Pantagruel did put himself in a readiness to go to Sea; and of the Herb named
Pantagruelion.

 ch. 49. p 394

How the famous Pantagruelion ought to be prepared and wrought.

 ch. 50. p. 403

Why it is called Pantagruelion, and of the admira|ble Vertues thereof.

 ch. 51. p 408

How a certain kind of Pantagruelion is of that na|ture, that Fire is not able to consume it.

 c. 52. p. 421

FINIS.