feat_summary_path: finished_summaries/gradesaver/Gargantua and Pantagruel/section_5_part_0.txt
feat_book_id: Gargantua and Pantagruel.book 4.chapter 1-chapter 67
feat_summary_id: book 4
feat_summary: {"name": "Book 4", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180420203406/http://www.gradesaver.com/gargantua-and-pantagruel/study-guide/summary-book-4", "summary": "The fourth book begins where the third book left off. Pantagruel, Panurge, Epistemon, Friar John, and all the other companions prepare the eleven ships for the voyage to The Oracle of the Holy Bottle in Lantern Land. Pantagruel names his flagship the Thalamege, and each of the other ten ships is identified by items hung on the stern of each ship, and these items signify different aspects of the mission or they are charms meant to attract good fortune during the mission. Pantagruel and his companions plan to leave from the port of Thalassa, and they have chartered a route that will take them around Africa and up by India within four months. After traveling for several months by sea, Pantagruel and his companions finally make their way to the island of Medamothy. On this peculiar island, all of Pantagruel's companions purchase unique items. Pantagruel himself purchases three unicorns, tapestries that relate the story of Achilles' adventurers, beautiful paintings, and a beast known as a tarand, which is as big as a bull with the head of a deer and has fur that changes color based on its surroundings. It is on the island of Medamothy where Pantagruel receives word from his father via one of his father's servants, Malicorne, who was able to arrive so quickly, because he rode on a smaller ship, the Chelidonia, which is capable of faster speeds. Malicorne brings good tidings from his father as well as a letter. Malicorne also provides Pantagruel with a pigeon so that Pantagruel may send his father a simple message through the use of attaching a colored ribbon to the leg of the pigeon. According to their prearranged code, a black ribbon would imply that something horrible has occurred, whereas a white ribbon would explain that all was well. Having experienced no tragedies upon the voyage thus far, Pantagruel attaches a white ribbon to the leg of the pigeon, and lets it fly homeward to his father. Pantagruel also writes to his father, thanking his father for his thoughtfulness in sending a messenger to him. Within his letter, Pantagruel also explains that he will be sending back several curious items that he has recently purchased, including the unicorns, the Achilles tapestry, and the strange tarand beast. Pantagruel wishes his father well in the letter, and implies that he will write to his father as often as possible concerning the adventures of the voyage to the oracle. Pantagruel then sends the letter along with the curious items to his father by giving them over to Malicorne. As Pantagruel and his companions set out away from the island of Medamothy, they meet a ship with passengers returning from Lantern Land. As they mingle with these other passengers, a sheep merchant by the name of Dingdong notices that Panurge does not wear a codpiece, and that he has metal spectacles attached to his hat. Dingdong whispers to those near him about how Panurge has a cuckold's medal on his head, which of course starts a rather heated argument between Dingdong and Panurge. The two are forced to stop the fight, though, in order to maintain morale of the ship. As an attempt to smooth things over with the sheep merchant, Panurge offers to purchase one of Dingdong's sheep. Dingdong babbles on about the quality of his sheep, how they will be sold to royal houses, how their wool will be made into luxurious fabrics, and so on. As he babbles on, Panurge repeatedly asks how much he wants for one of the sheep. Finally, one of the other sheep merchants insists that Dingdong stop giving Panurge a difficult time and simply sell him a sheep. Dingdong agrees, and then he makes the transaction. After finally getting Dingdong to sell one of his sheep, Panurge picks up his new sheep, and throws it over the edge of the ship and into the water. Hearing their fellow sheep in the water, the rest of the sheep follow the sound and they all run over the edge of the ship and into the ocean where they will no doubt drown. Dingdong and his fellow sheep merchants try to stop the sheep, but they have no luck in the matter, and instead they get pulled over the edge by the sheep, where they too fall into the ocean and drown. Panurge asks Friar John for his opinion on the matter of what just occurred, and Friar John replies that Panurge should not have paid the man if this was his plan all along, because now the drowned man has his money. Panurge says that the payment was worth the fun, and then Panurge goes on to explain how that when he is wronged by someone, he will gladly take vengeance upon them, and the vengeance will be far greater than the initial offense. Although Panurge just murdered several people and killed a bunch of sheep, no one says anything negative about the whole situation. Friar John does say that Panurge has damned himself like an old devil, but it seems to be a passing comment, and not a serious accusation. The next island they sail to is the island of Ennasin. Upon talking with the locals, Pantagruel and his companions learn that everyone on this island is related to one another either closely or distantly. They have not allowed marriage with outsiders for some time, although the people of the island seem to have no problem with Pantagruel his companions visiting. As they walk around the island, they listen to how the men and women talk to one another. Pantagruel and his friends notice that the people of the island don't use such terms as mother, father, brother, sister etc. Instead, when they refer to one another, they use complementary terms, such as pear and cheese, or they use opposing terms to signify their dislike for one another. Depending on the relationship between the people, the terms can be highly sexualized. As they journey on, they sail to the island of Chely to meet with King St. Panigon. During this visit, there is much pomp and circumstance going on. Friar John manages to avoid the ceremonies and instead chooses to sneak away into the kitchens to fill his face whilst everyone else deals with the formalities of the visit. Upon Friar John's return to the ship, his companions question him about where he went. He explains that he did not want to deal with the formalities of royalty, and instead preferred to find food in the kitchens. They then discuss who belongs in the kitchen, and Friar John points out that the higher members of royalty tend to avoid the kitchens, for kitchens are places of servitude. Monks, on the other hand, always seem to be found in kitchens. The next island is noted as the land of Pettifogging. In this inhospitable land, the biggest vocation is that of the catchpoles, who are people hired to serve writs and other legal papers. By doing this job, however, the catchpoles risk being beaten and abused by the people receiving the served papers. Thus, as Pantagruel and his friends describe, the catchpoles are paid to be beaten, or else they will starve. Panurge relates the story of the Lord of Basche, a man who was trying to avoid such catchpoles, and so he paid and instructed his staff to put on a fake wedding whenever one of these catchpoles arrived. His reasoning for the fake wedding was because the custom of this region was to punch people at the close of the nuptials to remind everyone of the date of the event. Therefore, through this tableau, the Lord of Basche's servants could beat up the catchpole without being held accountable for the violent act. They perform this stunt on three different occasions, but during the third time, the catchpole got the upper hand, and he actually beats most of the servants fairly well. Unlike the catchpoles who came before, this third catchpole walks away on his own accord, beaten, but still able to move. After passing the island full of catchpoles, they arrive at the islands of Tohu and Bohu. Here, Pantagruel and his companions hoped to capture some fresh food, unfortunately there's not much left on the island, because of the giant Wide-nostrils. Under the guidance of his physicians, Wide-nostrils has been inhaling and swallowing up all manner of items on these islands as well as surrounding islands. He apparently enjoys swallowing windmills the most. Lately, however, Wide-nostrils had been suffering from strange indigestion pains. His physicians recommended that he heat butter on a stove and swallow it to lubricate his intestines. Upon following his doctor's orders, though, Wide-nostrils choked on the butter and died. His death had been fairly recent, as the people on the islands of Tohu and Bohu explain to Pantagruel and his associates. They move on and make their way to the next island, but as they do so, Friar John notices that his dear friend, Pantagruel, seems to be in a state of melancholy. Before Friar John can discover what troubles Pantagruel, a massive storm hits the ship. During the storm, Pantagruel ties himself to the mast. Friar John and the others strip down and start working the lines and the sails in an attempt to try to keep the ship afloat. Panurge, however, becomes overwhelmed with the fear that he will drown, and he starts ranting hysterically. Friar John tries to shame Panurge into proper action, but Panurge's fear is too powerful. After fighting the storm for some time, they all begin to fear that the storm will overtake them. Some of the companions start to consider their own mortality. Others, such as Friar John, challenge the gods of the sea and the tempest. Panurge tries to bargain with God, begging that God stop the storm. Panurge also offers anyone riches untold if they could get him safely to shore. Just as everyone seems to give up hope, Pantagruel spots land. The storm begins to clear away and everyone feels relieved once again. After the storm has passed and everyone is safe, Panurge acts as if he was never afraid. He even pretends that he provided more than his fair share of help during the storm, even though he did nothing but cry and sob the entire time. Friar John cannot stand by and listen to such lies, and he openly accuses Panurge of cowardice. Pantagruel explains that he would never tolerate his servants acting cowardly during such a conflict. Nevertheless, Pantagruel does not punish Panurge for the way he acted. All of the other supporting characters, though, comment on how Panurge acted cowardly, whereas they did their best to fight the storm. On the island of the Macreons, Pantagruel and his companions meet with the good Macrobius. Macrobius tells Pantagruel and his companions about how the ancient heroes died fighting the great monsters of the region, and how certain astronomical signs, such as comets, foretold of the events. Pantagruel then relates a historical story about how Thamous, the pilot of a large ship, was steering his ship toward port when a ghostly voice called for him three times. He answered after the third time, and the voice told him that he must publish the announcement of the death of Pan. Uncertain if the voice was real, Thamous decides he will only make the announcement if his ship is becalmed prior to getting into port. The ship gets close to land, and just then the wind dies completely and all the currents stop pushing his ship forward, so he cries out the announcement, and all the people on the nearby shores hear of Pan's death, and a great sadness fills the land. Pantagruel then makes the allegorical connection between Pan, the kind and mighty shepherd, and Jesus Christ. Both Pan and Christ are noted as being killed in the same fashion, and supposedly died around the same time. Pantagruel and his companions bid farewell to the good Macrobius and set sail for the next stop on their long journey. As they pass by the Sneaking Island, Xenomanes tells everyone about Shrovetide, the sovereign of the Sneaking Island. Xenomanes describes Shrovetide as a young ruler, but a ruler who is both paranoid and shrewd. Shrovetide's island is known for producing beautiful skewers that are sold throughout the world. Apparently, Shrovetide and his people are always at war with the Chitterlings, who reside on the Wild Island. Xenomanes continues to describe Shrovetide further with an enormous list of similes that depict every part of Shrovetide's body, but those similes are not very favorable. After passing the Sneaking Island, Pantagruel sees a monster in the ocean near the Wild Island. As they get closer, they realize that the monster is a whale, also known as a physeter. The narrator describes this particular whale to have three horns. Pantagruel decides that his fleet of eleven ships will go after this monster and kill it. The battle is difficult, but sure enough, they manage to slay the beast and bring the whale to the shore of the Wild Island. As Pantagruel's servants begin to cut up the whale, Pantagruel and his close companions begin to walk around the shore of the island. Immediately they notice that they have been spotted by the wild Chitterlings, and it appears that these natives are preparing to launch a full-scale attack on Pantagruel and his followers. Once again, Panurge acts cowardly as he tries to get himself away from the potential oncoming battle. He even volunteers to go and worn the soldiers on the ships. Friar John openly accuses Panurge of cowardice. Pantagruel, once again, ignores Panurge's cowardly actions, and instead Pantagruel focuses on making a plan. He does not wish to start a battle, but Pantagruel will not be caught off guard either. He decides to make sure the morale of his soldiers is high by requesting that two of his ships' commanders, Colonel Maul-chitterling and Colonel Cut-pudding the younger, join them on the beach for the potential battle, along with the soldiers whom each colonel commands over. Epistemon complements Pantagruel on his clever choice to choose these specific commanders, since their names describe what they wish to accomplish, should they enter into battle with the Chitterlings, . Both the commanders arrive with their soldiers, and Pantagruel explains that they must prepare for battle. The Chitterlings are described in several different ways. Since many of the Chitterlings are female, they are described as snake-like temptresses and tempters. Of course, this is a metaphorical description. Physically, they look like anthropomorphic sausages. Thus, since they look like food, Friar John convinces all the cooks to join him in the battle. As Friar John enlists the cooks, he goes over their names, and all of their names are linked closely to their cooking vocation. For example: \"Sour-sauce. Crisp-pig. Carbonado. Sweet-meat,\" etc. Friar John gets all of the cooks ready to go inside of a great machine known as the Sow. Similar to the Trojan horse, soldiers can get inside of the Sow. Much like a modern-day tank, the soldiers inside of the Sow can shoot out bolts and other ranged weaponry. Friar John plans to have all the cooks inside of the Sow to go to war against the Chitterlings. The Chitterlings build their lines of defense, and then start the battle. Pantagruel and his companions fight the Chitterlings and cut them to pieces, forcing them to retreat. As the Chitterlings begin to retreat, a gigantic, flying, winged-pig with crimson feathers appears. If flies between the armies calling out the word, \"Carnival,\" again and again. As the giant pig flies overhead, mustard falls out of it, and the mustard lands in heaps on the ground. After a short while, the giant pig flies away. With the battle over, Pantagruel and his companions seek out the leader of the Chitterlings, Queen Niphleseth. They converse with the Queen and discover that the Chitterlings started the battle due to false intelligence reports. The Chitterlings were under the impression that Pantagruel and his companions were allies of Shrovetide. The Queen makes all formal apologies and offers to send tribute to Pantagruel's country, along with 78,000 Chitterlings to serve for a period of six months every year. The following day, she sends the first lot of Chitterlings along with her daughter, young Niphleseth, to Pantagruel's homeland. After she does so, Pantagruel explains that it will not be necessary to send so many Chitterlings every year, nor will they be required to pay tribute on a regular basis. He also forgives all actions taken against him and his soldiers. Pantagruel then asks the Queen about the giant pig that flew in the sky after the battle. The Queen explains that Carnival, their patron God, who looks like a giant hog himself, created the flying pig as a way to protect his people, which is why the flying pig cries out Carnival's name. Pantagruel then inquires why mustard falls out of the flying pig. The Queen then states that, for Chitterlings, mustard acts as a magical balm that cures the sick and raises the dead. Unfortunately, the cure of mustard only works on Chitterlings. Sailing away from Queen Niphleseth and the Wild Island, Pantagruel and his companions arrive at the island of Ruach. On this island, the people do not eat food, and instead they feast upon different types of wind. To produce their food, they have even made massive windmills. The wind eaters of Ruach relate to Pantagruel about the problems they have experienced with their diet, especially since the giant Wide-nostrils swallows up their windmills and destroys other parts of their island. Pantagruel announces that they need not worry about Wide-nostrils any longer, for the giant recently died after choking on hot butter. As Pantagruel and his compatriots sail on, they come to the island of Pope-Figland. By talking to the locals, they learn the history of the island's name. Many years ago, the people of the island were called Gaillardets. One day, three Gaillardets went to visit the neighboring island of Papimany during a religious celebration. The Gaillardets mocked the image of the Papimen's Pope by saying \"a fig to it.\" The next day, the Papimen armies overtook the Gaillardets homelands and killed practically everyone, save the women and children. Of the people who were spared, the Papimen gave them a shameful challenge that was identical to what Emperor Frederick Barbarossa did to the people of Milan. The leader of the Papimen placed a fig within the anal crevice of a donkey so that part of the fig was sticking out. He then challenged the survivors that if any of them wanted to live that they would have to remove the fig and then put it back in place without using their hands. Most of the people took part in the shameful act and became slaves to the Papimen people. The Gaillardets' island was then renamed Pope-Figland, as a reminder of their actions against the Papimen. While learning about the island's history, Pantagruel and his friends see a fountain pool where a man is submerged all the way up to his nostrils. Standing around him are three priests, and they are reading a book to try and remove any devil from possessing the man. One of the people nearby explains to Pantagruel and his friends why the man is submerged in the fountain. A few seasons previously, the man, who happens to be a farmer and a plowman, was in his field throwing corn seeds out in the dirt. The farmer had not had much luck farming this piece of land, but he was desperate to make the corn grow. Just then, a devil appears and makes a deal that he will protect the land so that the corn grows, provided that upon the harvest day the devil can keep everything under the dirt while the farmer keeps everything above the dirt. The farmer agrees, and the devil protects the land. Come harvest, the farmer and his workers arrive just as the devil and his workers arrive. The farmer and his crew work together and harvest everything above land, which is all the healthy stocks of corn, whereas the devil and his group get nothing save the dirt chaff. Both groups go to market, but the devil is unable to tempt anyone into buying his product. The devil thought he was being clever, because he thought he would gain all the corn that the farmer had thrown under the dirt. Clearly, this devil did not understand how plants grow. The devil then offers the farmer a second deal similar to the first, but this time the devil explains that everything above ground will belong to him come harvest time, and that everything below ground will belong to the farmer. The devil then asks the farmer what he plans to grow, to which the farmer cleverly responds that he will grow radishes. Again, harvest time happens, and the farmer gets all of the delicious underground radishes, while the devil gets all the worthless leaves. Once again, the devil cannot tempt anyone to buy his wares. Upset at how he has lost out on the first two deals, the devil offers a third and final deal to the farmer. He claims that whoever wins the third challenge will also win complete ownership of the field. The farmer agrees, and so the devil explains that the third challenge will be a clawing match. The farmer goes home in a panic, since he is uncertain of how he will win the day. His wife sees that he is upset and asks him what is going on. He explains everything and believes he is doomed. She assures him that she has a plan to beat the devil. She does not share her plan with her husband, though, so the farmer goes to the priests, confesses everything that has happened, and begs for help. To save his soul, the priests have submerged him in a pool of water and are saying prayers to ward off devil possession. The day when the clawing match was to take place happens to coincide with the day that Pantagruel and his friends have arrived. Just as they finish hearing the story about why the farmer is now submerged in water, they receive word from members of the town that the farmer's wife has beaten the devil. The way she did so was quite clever. She waited at the house for the devil to arrive, and placed herself in a heap on the ground, making sure to cry like a child. When the devil arrived, she told him that her husband had been practicing his clawing on her, and that he had clawed her up so bad that she will surely die. She then said that her husband was out sharpening his claws for the battle. At first the devil does not believe her, but then the woman holds up her skirts so that the devil can see her vaginal region, which to this unknowledgeable devil looks as if someone has ripped her open. Fearful that the farmer will rip him open, the devil runs away in defeat. Pantagruel and his companions leave the island of Pope-Figland and make way to the neighboring island of Papimany. On this island, Pantagruel and his compatriots discover that people are devout Christian zealots who praise all things related to the Pope, since they see the Pope as the living God on earth. They ask Pantagruel and his companions if they have ever been in the presence of the Pope. As a member royalty, Pantagruel has had the privilege of meeting the Pope, as have many of his companions, so the people of Papimany treats Pantagruel and his friends with the utmost respect. They are then welcomed to the island by Homenas, Bishop of Papimany. From the Bishop, they learn of the Papimen's extreme devotion and how they keep holy relics and holy books treasured under lock and key. To view such items requires people to fast for three days and give confession, as a show of worthiness. Panurge explains that they have been fasting all throughout their voyage, and are thus prepared. The bishop believes Panurge, and thus he shows Pantagruel and his companions all the holy relics, including images of the Pope as well as the holy books, known as decretals, which provide all the infinite knowledge that anyone would ever need. After viewing such holy items, and since the bishop believes that Pantagruel and his companions have been fasting for days, he offers them a great feast in honor of their visit and religious devotion. While feasting, everyone discusses stories about how people who are disrespectful to holy relics and holy books are severely punished, while those who respect such artifacts are eternally blessed. In exchange for blessing the island with their presence, Homenas gives Pantagruel pears that only grow on the island. Homenas claims they are the best pears in the world. Pantagruel explains that he will take a cutting home, if he is allowed, and grow these pears and call them good-Christian pears. Upon leaving the island of Papimany, Pantagruel's fleet of ships sails toward the frozen sea. While there, Pantagruel starts to hear people talking, although he cannot see anyone. Everyone else quiets down to listen closely, but they don't hear anything at first. After listening for a while, Pantagruel's companion start to hear something, although they cannot make out what they hear. They then learn that a battle between the Arimaspians and the Nephelibates had taken place in this region of the frozen sea, so Pantagruel and his friends surmise that perhaps the words they are hearing are from those groups of people. Somehow, Pantagruel reaches out and finds the frozen words, grabs them up, and brings them onto the ship's deck. Everyone starts warming up the frozen words and hears all manner of phrases, although the words are gibberish. By the tones of the words, they can determine that some of the words are beautiful, while others are said in hatred. Some words are reminiscent of the sounds of fighting, and other words are the sounds of screaming. Although some of the people on the ship, including Panurge and the unnamed narrator, wish to keep the words, Pantagruel advises against it, and so all the words are set free. Pantagruel and his companion sail away from the frozen sea and arrive at a new island that is supposed to be where the dwelling of Gaster resides. Gaster is known as the first Master of Arts in the world. Pantagruel goes to shore to meet Gaster. It is unclear whether Gaster is a giant, a demigod, or something else, for he has no doubt lived a long time and he has the brilliance and ability to create things far beyond the capabilities of regular people. While on the island, Pantagruel discovers that there are two groups of natives living there, including the Engastrimythes and the Gastrolaters. The first is a group of cheats and charlatans, the second is a group of thugs who walk around the island in gangs and dress up in strange elaborate costumes. The Gastrolaters have made Gaster into their god. They have also built crude statues to him, and they sacrifice exorbitant amounts of food and drink in his honor. Gaster does not want to be a God, and he often refuses many of the sacrifices. According to the stories, Gaster created all of the arts of agriculture, animal husbandry, cooking, civilization, architecture, war, and so many other arts. His purpose for creating these arts started out as a survival technique. He needed food, so he had to figure out how to grow corn; hence, he created agriculture. He then had to find ways to turn the corn into different types of food, store the food, protect the food, and protect the people who were protecting the food. Thus, all of the arts were created for improving the survival rate of people. Pantagruel then learns about how Gaster perfected some of his art forms. For instance, Gaster supposedly found ways to prevent people from being shot by bullets or cannonballs. To avoid gunshot or cannonballs, Gaster explains that one need only place iron-like stone, known as herculean, between yourself and your enemies. The narrator explains that the bullets and cannonballs will stop and hover near the stone. Supposedly, Gaster also invented a way to stop bullets and reverse their trajectory completely, however, the narrator does not provide an explanation of this technique, and instead discusses at length how all manner of herbs and other regular items can do extraordinary things, if applied in the right fashion. As Pantagruel and his comrades spend most of their time sailing, there is a lot of dead time where there is nothing to do. On one such occasion, each of Pantagruel's friends tried to busy themselves with different activities, but by doing so they all became lethargic and bored. Pantagruel takes a nap during this time, but when he rises, each of his friends ask him all manner of questions, including when should one eat, how to avoid boredom, and when should one sleep. Pantagruel provides religious maxims concerning when to sleep and when to eat, but he does not provide an answer for how to eradicate boredom. Pantagruel passes the time with his friends by chatting, talking about local lore, and asking each other questions. When they see the isle of Ganabim, Xenomanes explains that it is not a good place to visit, since it is filled with thieves. He does acknowledge that parts of the island would be suitable for stocking up on wood and water, though. On the isle, however, they can see a mountain that looks like Parnassus, where supposedly the Muses lived. Although Pantagruel has a strong feeling that he should not to visit the island, he at least wants to pay tribute to the Muses, and so he orders his ships to fire cannons as tribute. During such time, Panurge has gone under decks, once again overcome with fear. He and Friar John had gotten into an argument earlier, and Friar John chastised him for his cowardly inclinations, which made Panurge run away and sulk below decks. While Panurge was sulking, the cannon salute to the Muses went off. Panurge panics, for he believes that they have entered into a new battle. Half dressed, Panurge severely soils himself, and gets in a fight with one of the ship's cats, Rodilardus, who Panurge mistook for a small devil. Panurge runs to Friar John and begs him to save his soul. At this point, Panurge is rambling, stained in his own feces, and covered with cat scratches. Friar John points this all out to Pantagruel, and Pantagruel finally has to deal with situation of Panurge's cowardice. Pantagruel politely instructs Panurge to go clean up and calm himself. Briefly, Panurge acts as if he was never afraid in the first place, and he claims that the feces on his back is not his own, but that it belongs to the ship's cat. Here the fourth book ends rather abruptly.", "analysis": "Once again, the point of view of the story has changed to an unnamed narrator. In the second book, the narrator introduces himself as a servant to Pantagruel, and at some point eventually gives his name as Alcofribas. It is unclear if Alcofribas remains the narrator throughout books three, four, and five. If he were the servant of Pantagruel, then, presumably, he would focus his perspective on everything in relationship to his master. The third book, however, focuses more on Panurge. In this fourth installment, the focus shifts periodically. Most of the time, the point of view focuses on what Pantagruel does throughout the voyage, but then the point of view shifts to Panurge's exploits, and at times to the actions of Friar John. If Alcofribas is indeed the narrator of both the third and fourth books, then he stands in the role of the bystander who has the ability to watch the nobility at all times. Thus, from his perspective, as a virtually invisible servant, Alcofribas can watch every event that goes on, and then provide the readers with an exposition. In addition, depending on Alcofribas's level of skill as a writer and observer, he might be writing about the exploits of the voyage as a favor to Pantagruel. When Pantagruel writes a letter to his father, he explains that he will keep a journal of their adventures for his father to read at a later time. Although Pantagruel seems like the type of person who would want to write such a journal himself, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that he may have asked his servant, this narrator, to also keep an account of the activities during the voyage. Throughout this fourth installment of the series, Pantagruel and his companions come into contact with a full array of real and mythical creatures. From the very start of the journey, Pantagruel and his followers arrive at the island of Medamothy, where literally everything imaginable and unimaginable is for sale. Wes Williams argues that the creatures found for sale on the island, including the unicorns and the color-changing tarand, are \"adynata: impossible objects, derived for the most part from Pliny's Natural History, books 8 and 10, where they figure such creatures as lie beyond credible representation\" . Williams posits that Rabelais includes this episode so early in the fourth book as a way to explain to the reader that this journey will explore many unknown elements. In fact, as the journey progresses, the inhabitants of the islands become more and more peculiar. Granted, some islanders are not so different from people living in the known Western world, but other inhabitants, such as the Chitterlings of the Wild Island and the wind eaters of the island of Ruach, appear so extraordinary that one would certainly question their existence. But, as Williams suggests, starting the journey off by visiting the island of Medamothy, a place full of oddities and curiosities, sets the stage for literally anything to occur throughout the fourth book, including a giant flying pig that spurts mustard. Probably one of the most fascinating aspects of this story is the comedic imagery throughout the voyage. Early on, Panurge gets into an argument with a sheep merchant. Both Panurge and the merchant are reprimanded for their argument and are forced to make amends. Panurge offers to buy one of the merchant's sheep to prove he is truly remorseful. The sheep merchant babbles excessively about the value of his sheep. Although he is but a lowly merchant, he has the opportunity to waste Panurge's time, and he makes full use of that opportunity. Finally, though, he does sell Panurge one of the sheep. Panurge takes his purchased sheep and promptly throws it overboard, causing all the other sheep to follow it into the ocean, and all the sheep merchants are pulled into the ocean by their flock, thus drowning all the sheep and the sheep merchants in one fell swoop. Although this is a grotesque and gruesome image, the dark comedy shows through nonetheless. Eyewitnesses describe other comedic images in the story, in a more indirect manner. For instance, the giant, Wide-nostrils, supposedly dies by choking on melted butter. Another example would be the farmer's wife who manages to trick an unknowledgeable devil into believing that the slit of her vaginal opening was caused by the powerful claws of her husband, whom the devil was going to battle in a clawing match. Of all the comedic imagery, the scenes during the battle with the Chitterlings on Wild Island demonstrate the most vivid examples of personification and contextual foreshadowing. The inhabitants of this island, the Chitterlings, are literally described as walking sausages. These food items made from pork have been personified into male and female warriors, but since they are still walking sausages, they can easily be ripped in half and cut to pieces. Fortunately, thanks to the comedy Rabelais infuses into this story, the Chitterlings need not die from being cut in half. The savior is mustard sauce, for everyone knows that even the worst sausage can be improved with a little bit of mustard. As if the culinary humor was not blatant enough, Rabelais adds the image of a gigantic flying pig with crimson red plumage. While this creature that defies all reason flies over the battlefield, it spurts out mustard to save the fallen soldiers. Although the events on this island rank under the category of bizarre, the island's very name provided contextual foreshadowing to warn outsiders that this is a wild space. The term \"wild\" has many interpretations. Some people may identify wild to mean disorderly. The fact that these personified sausages defy death through the aid of mustard certainly suggests that the normal laws of order and biology no longer apply. As the opening framework of the story indicates that the characters will meet different people and face difficult challenges, the framework of the voyage itself also signifies that the characters will be tested and, as a result of those tests, some characters will change dramatically. Compared to who he was in the second book, Panurge is almost a different character by the end of the fourth book. Of the challenges he faces during this portion of the story, the first challenge is that of the storm. His failure to find his courage during the storm marks the downfall of his character throughout the rest of the story. When the storm hits, Pantagruel ties himself to the mast while Friar John and Epistemon help the crew with the rigging and the sails. Friar John calls out to Panurge, begging that he help them, but Panurge remains frozen in his fear. As he cries like a child, Panurge begs God or anyone listening to bring him safely to dry land. As soon as the storm stops, and after everyone is on dry land, Panurge feigns as if he was never afraid and he pretends that he helped the crew during the storm. Friar John refuses to listen to Panurge's lies, and blatantly calls him a coward. Having failed his first test of the voyage, Panurge continues to falter and spiral downwards. For instance, when it appears that Pantagruel and his companions will have to do battle with the Chitterlings on Wild Island, Panurge offers to go to warn the soldiers on the ships, but he only makes this offer so that he can run away from the battle. Likewise, at the end of the story, while pouting below decks, Panurge hears the sound of cannon fire, which makes him believe that they have once again entered into battle. In this final test of his courage, Panurge soils himself in his own feces and mistakes a cat for a small demon. Truly, Panurge, the once quick-witted, womanizing, master thief and scam artist from the second book has hit rock bottom as he continues to sail on this voyage in his search for answers about cuckoldry after marriage."}
text: Good people, God save and keep you!  Where are you?  I can't see you:
  stay--I'll saddle my nose with spectacles--oh, oh! 'twill be fair anon:  I
  see you.  Well, you have had a good vintage, they say:  this is no bad news
  to Frank, you may swear.  You have got an infallible cure against thirst:
  rarely performed of you, my friends!  You, your wives, children, friends,
  and families are in as good case as hearts can wish; it is well, it is as I
  would have it:  God be praised for it, and if such be his will, may you
  long be so.  For my part, I am thereabouts, thanks to his blessed goodness;
  and by the means of a little Pantagruelism (which you know is a certain
  jollity of mind, pickled in the scorn of fortune), you see me now hale and
  cheery, as sound as a bell, and ready to drink, if you will.  Would you
  know why I'm thus, good people?  I will even give you a positive answer
  --Such is the Lord's will, which I obey and revere; it being said in his
  word, in great derision to the physician neglectful of his own health,
  Physician, heal thyself.
  
  Galen had some knowledge of the Bible, and had conversed with the
  Christians of his time, as appears lib. 11. De Usu Partium; lib. 2. De
  Differentiis Pulsuum, cap. 3, and ibid. lib. 3. cap. 2. and lib. De Rerum
  Affectibus (if it be Galen's).  Yet 'twas not for any such veneration of
  holy writ that he took care of his own health.  No, it was for fear of
  being twitted with the saying so well known among physicians:
  
    Iatros allon autos elkesi bruon.
  
    He boasts of healing poor and rich,
    Yet is himself all over itch.
  
  This made him boldly say, that he did not desire to be esteemed a
  physician, if from his twenty-eighth year to his old age he had not lived
  in perfect health, except some ephemerous fevers, of which he soon rid
  himself; yet he was not naturally of the soundest temper, his stomach being
  evidently bad.  Indeed, as he saith, lib. 5, De Sanitate tuenda, that
  physician will hardly be thought very careful of the health of others who
  neglects his own.  Asclepiades boasted yet more than this; for he said that
  he had articled with fortune not to be reputed a physician if he could be
  said to have been sick since he began to practise physic to his latter age,
  which he reached, lusty in all his members and victorious over fortune;
  till at last the old gentleman unluckily tumbled down from the top of a
  certain ill-propped and rotten staircase, and so there was an end of him.
  
  If by some disaster health is fled from your worships to the right or to
  the left, above or below, before or behind, within or without, far or near,
  on this side or the other side, wheresoever it be, may you presently, with
  the help of the Lord, meet with it.  Having found it, may you immediately
  claim it, seize it, and secure it.  The law allows it; the king would have
  it so; nay, you have my advice for it.  Neither more nor less than the
  law-makers of old did fully empower a master to claim and seize his runaway
  servant wherever he might be found.  Odds-bodikins, is it not written and
  warranted by the ancient customs of this noble, so rich, so flourishing
  realm of France, that the dead seizes the quick?  See what has been
  declared very lately in that point by that learned, wise, courteous, humane
  and just civilian, Andrew Tiraqueau, one of the judges in the most
  honourable court of Parliament at Paris.  Health is our life, as Ariphron
  the Sicyonian wisely has it; without health life is not life, it is not
  living life: abios bios, bios abiotos.  Without health life is only a
  languishment and an image of death.  Therefore, you that want your health,
  that is to say, that are dead, seize the quick; secure life to yourselves,
  that is to say, health.
  
  I have this hope in the Lord, that he will hear our supplications,
  considering with what faith and zeal we pray, and that he will grant this
  our wish because it is moderate and mean.  Mediocrity was held by the
  ancient sages to be golden, that is to say, precious, praised by all men,
  and pleasing in all places.  Read the sacred Bible, you will find the
  prayers of those who asked moderately were never unanswered.  For example,
  little dapper Zaccheus, whose body and relics the monks of St. Garlick,
  near Orleans, boast of having, and nickname him St. Sylvanus; he only
  wished to see our blessed Saviour near Jerusalem.  It was but a small
  request, and no more than anybody then might pretend to.  But alas! he was
  but low-built; and one of so diminutive a size, among the crowd, could not
  so much as get a glimpse of him.  Well then he struts, stands on tiptoes,
  bustles, and bestirs his stumps, shoves and makes way, and with much ado
  clambers up a sycamore.  Upon this, the Lord, who knew his sincere
  affection, presented himself to his sight, and was not only seen by him,
  but heard also; nay, what is more, he came to his house and blessed his
  family.
  
  One of the sons of the prophets in Israel felling would near the river
  Jordan, his hatchet forsook the helve and fell to the bottom of the river;
  so he prayed to have it again ('twas but a small request, mark ye me), and
  having a strong faith, he did not throw the hatchet after the helve, as
  some spirits of contradiction say by way of scandalous blunder, but the
  helve after the hatchet, as you all properly have it.  Presently two great
  miracles were seen:  up springs the hatchet from the bottom of the water,
  and fixes itself to its old acquaintance the helve.  Now had he wished to
  coach it to heaven in a fiery chariot like Elias, to multiply in seed like
  Abraham, be as rich as Job, strong as Samson, and beautiful as Absalom,
  would he have obtained it, d'ye think?  I' troth, my friends, I question it
  very much.
  
  Now I talk of moderate wishes in point of hatchet (but harkee me, be sure
  you don't forget when we ought to drink), I will tell you what is written
  among the apologues of wise Aesop the Frenchman.  I mean the Phrygian and
  Trojan, as Max. Planudes makes him; from which people, according to the
  most faithful chroniclers, the noble French are descended.  Aelian writes
  that he was of Thrace and Agathias, after Herodotus, that he was of Samos;
  'tis all one to Frank.
  
  In his time lived a poor honest country fellow of Gravot, Tom Wellhung by
  name, a wood-cleaver by trade, who in that low drudgery made shift so to
  pick up a sorry livelihood.  It happened that he lost his hatchet.  Now
  tell me who ever had more cause to be vexed than poor Tom?  Alas, his whole
  estate and life depended on his hatchet; by his hatchet he earned many a
  fair penny of the best woodmongers or log-merchants among whom he went
  a-jobbing; for want of his hatchet he was like to starve; and had death but
  met with him six days after without a hatchet, the grim fiend would have
  mowed him down in the twinkling of a bedstaff.  In this sad case he began
  to be in a heavy taking, and called upon Jupiter with the most eloquent
  prayers--for you know necessity was the mother of eloquence.  With the
  whites of his eyes turned up towards heaven, down on his marrow-bones, his
  arms reared high, his fingers stretched wide, and his head bare, the poor
  wretch without ceasing was roaring out, by way of litany, at every
  repetition of his supplications, My hatchet, Lord Jupiter, my hatchet! my
  hatchet! only my hatchet, O Jupiter, or money to buy another, and nothing
  else! alas, my poor hatchet!
  
  Jupiter happened then to be holding a grand council about certain urgent
  affairs, and old gammer Cybele was just giving her opinion, or, if you
  would rather have it so, it was young Phoebus the beau; but, in short,
  Tom's outcries and lamentations were so loud that they were heard with no
  small amazement at the council-board, by the whole consistory of the gods.
  What a devil have we below, quoth Jupiter, that howls so horridly?  By the
  mud of Styx, have not we had all along, and have not we here still enough
  to do, to set to rights a world of damned puzzling businesses of
  consequence?  We made an end of the fray between Presthan, King of Persia,
  and Soliman the Turkish emperor, we have stopped up the passages between
  the Tartars and the Muscovites; answered the Xeriff's petition; done the
  same to that of Golgots Rays; the state of Parma's despatched; so is that
  of Maidenburg, that of Mirandola, and that of Africa, that town on the
  Mediterranean which we call Aphrodisium; Tripoli by carelessness has got a
  new master; her hour was come.
  
  Here are the Gascons cursing and damning, demanding the restitution of
  their bells.
  
  In yonder corner are the Saxons, Easterlings, Ostrogoths, and Germans,
  nations formerly invincible, but now aberkeids, bridled, curbed, and
  brought under a paltry diminutive crippled fellow; they ask us revenge,
  relief, restitution of their former good sense and ancient liberty.
  
  But what shall we do with this same Ramus and this Galland, with a pox to
  them, who, surrounded with a swarm of their scullions, blackguard
  ragamuffins, sizars, vouchers, and stipulators, set together by the ears
  the whole university of Paris?  I am in a sad quandary about it, and for
  the heart's blood of me cannot tell yet with whom of the two to side.
  
  Both seem to me notable fellows, and as true cods as ever pissed.  The one
  has rose-nobles, I say fine and weighty ones; the other would gladly have
  some too.  The one knows something; the other's no dunce.  The one loves
  the better sort of men; the other's beloved by 'em.  The one is an old
  cunning fox; the other with tongue and pen, tooth and nail, falls foul on
  the ancient orators and philosophers, and barks at them like a cur.
  
  What thinkest thou of it, say, thou bawdy Priapus?  I have found thy
  counsel just before now, et habet tua mentula mentem.
  
  King Jupiter, answered Priapus, standing up and taking off his cowl, his
  snout uncased and reared up, fiery and stiffly propped, since you compare
  the one to a yelping snarling cur and the other to sly Reynard the fox, my
  advice is, with submission, that without fretting or puzzling your brains
  any further about 'em, without any more ado, even serve 'em both as, in the
  days of yore, you did the dog and the fox.  How? asked Jupiter; when? who
  were they? where was it?  You have a rare memory, for aught I see! returned
  Priapus.  This right worshipful father Bacchus, whom we have here nodding
  with his crimson phiz, to be revenged on the Thebans had got a fairy fox,
  who, whatever mischief he did, was never to be caught or wronged by any
  beast that wore a head.
  
  The noble Vulcan here present had framed a dog of Monesian brass, and with
  long puffing and blowing put the spirit of life into him; he gave it to
  you, you gave it your Miss Europa, Miss Europa gave it Minos, Minos gave it
  Procris, Procris gave it Cephalus.  He was also of the fairy kind; so that,
  like the lawyers of our age, he was too hard for all other sorts of
  creatures; nothing could scape the dog.  Now who should happen to meet but
  these two?  What do you think they did?  Dog by his destiny was to take
  fox, and fox by his fate was not to be taken.
  
  The case was brought before your council:  you protested that you would not
  act against the fates; and the fates were contradictory.  In short, the end
  and result of the matter was, that to reconcile two contradictions was an
  impossibility in nature.  The very pang put you into a sweat; some drops of
  which happening to light on the earth, produced what the mortals call
  cauliflowers.  All our noble consistory, for want of a categorical
  resolution, were seized with such a horrid thirst, that above seventy-eight
  hogsheads of nectar were swilled down at that sitting.  At last you took my
  advice, and transmogrified them into stones; and immediately got rid of
  your perplexity, and a truce with thirst was proclaimed through this vast
  Olympus.  This was the year of flabby cods, near Teumessus, between Thebes
  and Chalcis.
  
  After this manner, it is my opinion that you should petrify this dog and
  this fox.  The metamorphosis will not be incongruous; for they both bear
  the name of Peter.  And because, according to the Limosin proverb, to make
  an oven's mouth there must be three stones, you may associate them with
  Master Peter du Coignet, whom you formerly petrified for the same cause.
  Then those three dead pieces shall be put in an equilateral trigone
  somewhere in the great temple at Paris--in the middle of the porch, if you
  will--there to perform the office of extinguishers, and with their noses
  put out the lighted candles, torches, tapers, and flambeaux; since, while
  they lived, they still lighted, ballock-like, the fire of faction,
  division, ballock sects, and wrangling among those idle bearded boys, the
  students.  And this will be an everlasting monument to show that those puny
  self-conceited pedants, ballock-framers, were rather contemned than
  condemned by you.  Dixi, I have said my say.
  
  You deal too kindly by them, said Jupiter, for aught I see, Monsieur
  Priapus.  You do not use to be so kind to everybody, let me tell you; for
  as they seek to eternize their names, it would be much better for them to
  be thus changed into hard stones than to return to earth and putrefaction.
  But now to other matters.  Yonder behind us, towards the Tuscan sea and the
  neighbourhood of Mount Apennine, do you see what tragedies are stirred up
  by certain topping ecclesiastical bullies?  This hot fit will last its
  time, like the Limosins' ovens, and then will be cooled, but not so fast.
  
  We shall have sport enough with it; but I foresee one inconveniency; for
  methinks we have but little store of thunder ammunition since the time that
  you, my fellow gods, for your pastime lavished them away to bombard new
  Antioch, by my particular permission; as since, after your example, the
  stout champions who had undertaken to hold the fortress of Dindenarois
  against all comers fairly wasted their powder with shooting at sparrows,
  and then, not having wherewith to defend themselves in time of need,
  valiantly surrendered to the enemy, who were already packing up their awls,
  full of madness and despair, and thought on nothing but a shameful retreat.
  Take care this be remedied, son Vulcan; rouse up your drowsy Cyclopes,
  Asteropes, Brontes, Arges, Polyphemus, Steropes, Pyracmon, and so forth,
  set them at work, and make them drink as they ought.
  
  Never spare liquor to such as are at hot work.  Now let us despatch this
  bawling fellow below.  You, Mercury, go see who it is, and know what he
  wants.  Mercury looked out at heaven's trapdoor, through which, as I am
  told, they hear what is said here below.  By the way, one might well enough
  mistake it for the scuttle of a ship; though Icaromenippus said it was like
  the mouth of a well.  The light-heeled deity saw that it was honest Tom,
  who asked for his lost hatchet; and accordingly he made his report to the
  synod.  Marry, said Jupiter, we are finely helped up, as if we had now
  nothing else to do here but to restore lost hatchets.  Well, he must have
  it then for all this, for so 'tis written in the Book of Fate (do you
  hear?), as well as if it was worth the whole duchy of Milan.  The truth is,
  the fellow's hatchet is as much to him as a kingdom to a king.  Come, come,
  let no more words be scattered about it; let him have his hatchet again.
  
  Now, let us make an end of the difference betwixt the Levites and
  mole-catchers of Landerousse.  Whereabouts were we?  Priapus was standing in
  the chimney-corner, and having heard what Mercury had reported, said in a
  most courteous and jovial manner:  King Jupiter, while by your order and
  particular favour I was garden-keeper-general on earth, I observed that this
  word hatchet is equivocal to many things; for it signifies a certain
  instrument by the means of which men fell and cleave timber.  It also
  signifies (at least I am sure it did formerly) a female soundly and
  frequently thumpthumpriggletickletwiddletobyed.  Thus I perceived that every
  cock of the game used to call his doxy his hatchet; for with that same tool
  (this he said lugging out and exhibiting his nine-inch knocker) they so
  strongly and resolutely shove and drive in their helves, that the females
  remain free from a fear epidemical amongst their sex, viz., that from the
  bottom of the male's belly the instrument should dangle at his heel for want
  of such feminine props.  And I remember, for I have a member, and a memory
  too, ay, and a fine memory, large enough to fill a butter-firkin; I
  remember, I say, that one day of tubilustre (horn-fair) at the festivals of
  goodman Vulcan in May, I heard Josquin Des Prez, Olkegan, Hobrecht,
  Agricola, Brumel, Camelin, Vigoris, De la Fage, Bruyer, Prioris, Seguin, De
  la Rue, Midy, Moulu, Mouton, Gascogne, Loyset, Compere, Penet, Fevin,
  Rousee, Richard Fort, Rousseau, Consilion, Constantio Festi, Jacquet Bercan,
  melodiously singing the following catch on a pleasant green:
  
    Long John to bed went to his bride,
    And laid a mallet by his side:
    What means this mallet, John? saith she.
    Why! 'tis to wedge thee home, quoth he.
    Alas! cried she, the man's a fool:
    What need you use a wooden tool?
    When lusty John does to me come,
    He never shoves but with his bum.
  
  Nine Olympiads, and an intercalary year after (I have a rare member, I
  would say memory; but I often make blunders in the symbolization and
  colligance of those two words), I heard Adrian Villart, Gombert, Janequin,
  Arcadet, Claudin, Certon, Manchicourt, Auxerre, Villiers, Sandrin, Sohier,
  Hesdin, Morales, Passereau, Maille, Maillart, Jacotin, Heurteur, Verdelot,
  Carpentras, L'Heritier, Cadeac, Doublet, Vermont, Bouteiller, Lupi,
  Pagnier, Millet, Du Moulin, Alaire, Maraut, Morpain, Gendre, and other
  merry lovers of music, in a private garden, under some fine shady trees,
  round about a bulwark of flagons, gammons, pasties, with several coated
  quails, and laced mutton, waggishly singing:
  
    Since tools without their hafts are useless lumber,
    And hatchets without helves are of that number;
    That one may go in t'other, and may match it,
    I'll be the helve, and thou shalt be the hatchet.
  
  Now would I know what kind of hatchet this bawling Tom wants?  This threw
  all the venerable gods and goddesses into a fit of laughter, like any
  microcosm of flies; and even set limping Vulcan a-hopping and jumping
  smoothly three or four times for the sake of his dear.  Come, come, said
  Jupiter to Mercury, run down immediately, and cast at the poor fellow's
  feet three hatchets:  his own, another of gold, and a third of massy
  silver, all of one size; then having left it to his will to take his
  choice, if he take his own, and be satisfied with it, give him the other
  two; if he take another, chop his head off with his own; and henceforth
  serve me all those losers of hatchets after that manner.  Having said this,
  Jupiter, with an awkward turn of his head, like a jackanapes swallowing of
  pills, made so dreadful a phiz that all the vast Olympus quaked again.
  Heaven's foot messenger, thanks to his low-crowned narrow-brimmed hat, his
  plume of feathers, heel-pieces, and running stick with pigeon wings, flings
  himself out at heaven's wicket, through the idle deserts of the air, and in
  a trice nimbly alights upon the earth, and throws at friend Tom's feet the
  three hatchets, saying unto him:  Thou hast bawled long enough to be a-dry;
  thy prayers and request are granted by Jupiter:  see which of these three
  is thy hatchet, and take it away with thee.  Wellhung lifts up the golden
  hatchet, peeps upon it, and finds it very heavy; then staring on Mercury,
  cries, Codszouks, this is none of mine; I won't ha't:  the same he did with
  the silver one, and said, 'Tis not this neither, you may e'en take them
  again.  At last he takes up his own hatchet, examines the end of the helve,
  and finds his mark there; then, ravished with joy, like a fox that meets
  some straggling poultry, and sneering from the tip of the nose, he cried,
  By the mass, this is my hatchet, master god; if you will leave it me, I
  will sacrifice to you a very good and huge pot of milk brimful, covered
  with fine strawberries, next ides of May.
  
  Honest fellow, said Mercury, I leave it thee; take it; and because thou
  hast wished and chosen moderately in point of hatchet, by Jupiter's command
  I give thee these two others; thou hast now wherewith to make thyself rich:
  be honest.  Honest Tom gave Mercury a whole cartload of thanks, and revered
  the most great Jupiter.  His old hatchet he fastens close to his leathern
  girdle, and girds it above his breech like Martin of Cambray; the two
  others, being more heavy, he lays on his shoulder.  Thus he plods on,
  trudging over the fields, keeping a good countenance amongst his neighbours
  and fellow-parishioners, with one merry saying or other after Patelin's
  way.  The next day, having put on a clean white jacket, he takes on his
  back the two precious hatchets and comes to Chinon, the famous city, noble
  city, ancient city, yea, the first city in the world, according to the
  judgment and assertion of the most learned Massorets.  At Chinon he turned
  his silver hatchet into fine testons, crown-pieces, and other white cash;
  his golden hatchet into fine angels, curious ducats, substantial ridders,
  spankers, and rose-nobles; then with them purchases a good number of farms,
  barns, houses, out-houses, thatched houses, stables, meadows, orchards,
  fields, vineyards, woods, arable lands, pastures, ponds, mills, gardens,
  nurseries, oxen, cows, sheep, goats, swine, hogs, asses, horses, hens,
  cocks, capons, chickens, geese, ganders, ducks, drakes, and a world of all
  other necessaries, and in a short time became the richest man in the
  country, nay, even richer than that limping scrape-good Maulevrier.  His
  brother bumpkins, and the other yeomen and country-puts thereabouts,
  perceiving his good fortune, were not a little amazed, insomuch that their
  former pity of poor Tom was soon changed into an envy of his so great and
  unexpected rise; and as they could not for their souls devise how this came
  about, they made it their business to pry up and down, and lay their heads
  together, to inquire, seek, and inform themselves by what means, in what
  place, on what day, what hour, how, why, and wherefore, he had come by this
  great treasure.
  
  At last, hearing it was by losing his hatchet, Ha, ha! said they, was there
  no more to do but to lose a hatchet to make us rich?  Mum for that; 'tis as
  easy as pissing a bed, and will cost but little.  Are then at this time the
  revolutions of the heavens, the constellations of the firmament, and
  aspects of the planets such, that whosoever shall lose a hatchet shall
  immediately grow rich?  Ha, ha, ha! by Jove, you shall e'en be lost, an't
  please you, my dear hatchet.  With this they all fairly lost their hatchets
  out of hand.  The devil of one that had a hatchet left; he was not his
  mother's son that did not lose his hatchet.  No more was wood felled or
  cleaved in that country through want of hatchets.  Nay, the Aesopian
  apologue even saith that certain petty country gents of the lower class,
  who had sold Wellhung their little mill and little field to have
  wherewithal to make a figure at the next muster, having been told that his
  treasure was come to him by that only means, sold the only badge of their
  gentility, their swords, to purchase hatchets to go lose them, as the silly
  clodpates did, in hopes to gain store of chink by that loss.
  
  You would have truly sworn they had been a parcel of your petty spiritual
  usurers, Rome-bound, selling their all, and borrowing of others, to buy
  store of mandates, a pennyworth of a new-made pope.
  
  Now they cried out and brayed, and prayed and bawled, and lamented, and
  invoked Jupiter:  My hatchet! my hatchet!  Jupiter, my hatchet! on this
  side, My hatchet! on that side, My hatchet!  Ho, ho, ho, ho, Jupiter, my
  hatchet!  The air round about rung again with the cries and howlings of
  these rascally losers of hatchets.
  
  Mercury was nimble in bringing them hatchets; to each offering that which
  he had lost, as also another of gold, and a third of silver.
  
  Every he still was for that of gold, giving thanks in abundance to the
  great giver, Jupiter; but in the very nick of time that they bowed and
  stooped to take it from the ground, whip, in a trice, Mercury lopped off
  their heads, as Jupiter had commanded; and of heads thus cut off the number
  was just equal to that of the lost hatchets.
  
  You see how it is now; you see how it goes with those who in the simplicity
  of their hearts wish and desire with moderation.  Take warning by this, all
  you greedy, fresh-water sharks, who scorn to wish for anything under ten
  thousand pounds; and do not for the future run on impudently, as I have
  sometimes heard you wishing, Would to God I had now one hundred
  seventy-eight millions of gold!  Oh! how I should tickle it off.  The deuce
  on you, what more might a king, an emperor, or a pope wish for?  For that
  reason, indeed, you see that after you have made such hopeful wishes, all
  the good that comes to you of it is the itch or the scab, and not a cross in
  your breeches to scare the devil that tempts you to make these wishes:  no
  more than those two mumpers, wishers after the custom of Paris; one of whom
  only wished to have in good old gold as much as hath been spent, bought, and
  sold in Paris, since its first foundations were laid, to this hour; all of
  it valued at the price, sale, and rate of the dearest year in all that space
  of time.  Do you think the fellow was bashful?  Had he eaten sour plums
  unpeeled?  Were his teeth on edge, I pray you?  The other wished Our Lady's
  Church brimful of steel needles, from the floor to the top of the roof, and
  to have as many ducats as might be crammed into as many bags as might be
  sewed with each and everyone of those needles, till they were all either
  broke at the point or eye.  This is to wish with a vengeance!  What think
  you of it?  What did they get by't, in your opinion?  Why at night both my
  gentlemen had kibed heels, a tetter in the chin, a churchyard cough in the
  lungs, a catarrh in the throat, a swingeing boil at the rump, and the devil
  of one musty crust of a brown george the poor dogs had to scour their
  grinders with.  Wish therefore for mediocrity, and it shall be given unto
  you, and over and above yet; that is to say, provided you bestir yourself
  manfully, and do your best in the meantime.
  
  Ay, but say you, God might as soon have given me seventy-eight thousand as
  the thirteenth part of one half; for he is omnipotent, and a million of
  gold is no more to him than one farthing.  Oh, ho! pray tell me who taught
  you to talk at this rate of the power and predestination of God, poor silly
  people?  Peace, tush, st, st, st! fall down before his sacred face and own
  the nothingness of your nothing.
  
  Upon this, O ye that labour under the affliction of the gout, I ground my
  hopes; firmly believing, that if so it pleases the divine goodness, you
  shall obtain health; since you wish and ask for nothing else, at least for
  the present.  Well, stay yet a little longer with half an ounce of
  patience.
  
  The Genoese do not use, like you, to be satisfied with wishing health
  alone, when after they have all the livelong morning been in a brown study,
  talked, pondered, ruminated, and resolved in the counting-houses of whom
  and how they may squeeze the ready, and who by their craft must be hooked
  in, wheedled,  bubbled, sharped, overreached, and choused; they go to the
  exchange, and greet one another with a Sanita e guadagno, Messer! health
  and gain to you, sir!  Health alone will not go down with the greedy
  curmudgeons; they over and above must wish for gain, with a pox to 'em; ay,
  and for the fine crowns, or scudi di Guadaigne; whence, heaven be praised!
  it happens many a time that the silly wishers and woulders are baulked, and
  get neither.
  
  Now, my lads, as you hope for good health, cough once aloud with lungs of
  leather; take me off three swingeing bumpers; prick up your ears; and you
  shall hear me tell wonders of the noble and good Pantagruel.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel went to sea to visit the oracle of Bacbuc, alias the Holy
  Bottle.
  
  In the month of June, on Vesta's holiday, the very numerical day on which
  Brutus, conquering Spain, taught its strutting dons to truckle under him,
  and that niggardly miser Crassus was routed and knocked on the head by the
  Parthians, Pantagruel took his leave of the good Gargantua, his royal
  father.  The old gentleman, according to the laudable custom of the
  primitive Christians, devoutly prayed for the happy voyage of his son and
  his whole company, and then they took shipping at the port of Thalassa.
  Pantagruel had with him Panurge, Friar John des Entomeures, alias of the
  Funnels, Epistemon, Gymnast, Eusthenes, Rhizotome, Carpalin, cum multis
  aliis, his ancient servants and domestics; also Xenomanes, the great
  traveller, who had crossed so many dangerous roads, dikes, ponds, seas, and
  so forth, and was come some time before, having been sent for by Panurge.
  
  For certain good causes and considerations him thereunto moving, he had
  left with Gargantua, and marked out, in his great and universal
  hydrographical chart, the course which they were to steer to visit the
  Oracle of the Holy Bottle Bacbuc.  The number of ships were such as I
  described in the third book, convoyed by a like number of triremes, men of
  war, galleons, and feluccas, well-rigged, caulked, and stored with a good
  quantity of Pantagruelion.
  
  All the officers, droggermen, pilots, captains, mates, boatswains,
  midshipmen, quartermasters, and sailors, met in the Thalamege, Pantagruel's
  principal flag-ship, which had in her stern for her ensign a huge large
  bottle, half silver well polished, the other half gold enamelled with
  carnation; whereby it was easy to guess that white and red were the colours
  of the noble travellers, and that they went for the word of the Bottle.
  
  On the stern of the second was a lantern like those of the ancients,
  industriously made with diaphanous stone, implying that they were to pass
  by Lanternland.  The third ship had for her device a fine deep china ewer.
  The fourth, a double-handed jar of gold, much like an ancient urn.  The
  fifth, a famous can made of sperm of emerald.  The sixth, a monk's mumping
  bottle made of the four metals together.  The seventh, an ebony funnel, all
  embossed and wrought with gold after the Tauchic manner.  The eighth, an
  ivy goblet, very precious, inlaid with gold.  The ninth, a cup of fine
  Obriz gold.  The tenth, a tumbler of aromatic agoloch (you call it lignum
  aloes) edged with Cyprian gold, after the Azemine make.  The eleventh, a
  golden vine-tub of mosaic work.  The twelfth, a runlet of unpolished gold,
  covered with a small vine of large Indian pearl of Topiarian work.
  Insomuch that there was not a man, however in the dumps, musty,
  sour-looked, or melancholic he were, not even excepting that blubbering
  whiner Heraclitus, had he been there, but seeing this noble convoy of ships
  and their devices, must have been seized with present gladness of heart,
  and, smiling at the conceit, have said that the travellers were all honest
  topers, true pitcher-men, and have judged by a most sure prognostication
  that their voyage, both outward and homeward-bound, would be performed in
  mirth and perfect health.
  
  In the Thalamege, where was the general meeting, Pantagruel made a short
  but sweet exhortation, wholly backed with authorities from Scripture upon
  navigation; which being ended, with an audible voice prayers were said in
  the presence and hearing of all the burghers of Thalassa, who had flocked
  to the mole to see them take shipping.  After the prayers was melodiously
  sung a psalm of the holy King David, which begins, When Israel went out of
  Egypt; and that being ended, tables were placed upon deck, and a feast
  speedily served up. The Thalassians, who had also borne a chorus in the
  psalm, caused store of belly-timber to be brought out of their houses.  All
  drank to them; they drank to all; which was the cause that none of the
  whole company gave up what they had eaten, nor were sea-sick, with a pain
  at the head and stomach; which inconveniency they could not so easily have
  prevented by drinking, for some time before, salt water, either alone or
  mixed with wine; using quinces, citron peel, juice of pomegranates, sourish
  sweetmeats, fasting a long time, covering their stomachs with paper, or
  following such other idle remedies as foolish physicians prescribe to those
  that go to sea.
  
  Having often renewed their tipplings, each mother's son retired on board
  his own ship, and set sail all so fast with a merry gale at south-east; to
  which point of the compass the chief pilot, James Brayer by name, had
  shaped his course, and fixed all things accordingly.  For seeing that the
  Oracle of the Holy Bottle lay near Cathay, in the Upper India, his advice,
  and that of Xenomanes also, was not to steer the course which the
  Portuguese use, while sailing through the torrid zone, and Cape Bona
  Speranza, at the south point of Africa, beyond the equinoctial line, and
  losing sight of the northern pole, their guide, they make a prodigious long
  voyage; but rather to keep as near the parallel of the said India as
  possible, and to tack to the westward of the said pole, so that winding
  under the north, they might find themselves in the latitude of the port of
  Olone, without coming nearer it for fear of being shut up in the frozen
  sea; whereas, following this canonical turn, by the said parallel, they
  must have that on the right to the eastward, which at their departure was
  on their left.
  
  This proved a much shorter cut; for without shipwreck, danger, or loss of
  men, with uninterrupted good weather, except one day near the island of the
  Macreons, they performed in less than four months the voyage of Upper
  India, which the Portuguese, with a thousand inconveniences and innumerable
  dangers, can hardly complete in three years.  And it is my opinion, with
  submission to better judgments, that this course was perhaps steered by
  those Indians who sailed to Germany, and were honourably received by the
  King of the Swedes, while Quintus Metellus Celer was proconsul of the
  Gauls; as Cornelius Nepos, Pomponius Mela, and Pliny after them tell us.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel bought many rarities in the island of Medamothy.
  
  That day and the two following they neither discovered land nor anything
  new; for they had formerly sailed that way:  but on the fourth they made an
  island called Medamothy, of a fine and delightful prospect, by reason of
  the vast number of lighthouses and high marble towers in its circuit, which
  is not less than that of Canada (sic).  Pantagruel, inquiring who governed
  there, heard that it was King Philophanes, absent at that time upon account
  of the marriage of his brother Philotheamon with the infanta of the kingdom
  of Engys.
  
  Hearing this, he went ashore in the harbour, and while every ship's crew
  watered, passed his time in viewing divers pictures, pieces of tapestry,
  animals, fishes, birds, and other exotic and foreign merchandises, which
  were along the walks of the mole and in the markets of the port.  For it
  was the third day of the great and famous fair of the place, to which the
  chief merchants of Africa and Asia resorted.  Out of these Friar John
  bought him two rare pictures; in one of which the face of a man that brings
  in an appeal was drawn to the life; and in the other a servant that wants a
  master, with every needful particular, action, countenance, look, gait,
  feature, and deportment, being an original by Master Charles Charmois,
  principal painter to King Megistus; and he paid for them in the court
  fashion, with conge and grimace.  Panurge bought a large picture, copied
  and done from the needle-work formerly wrought by Philomela, showing to her
  sister Progne how her brother-in-law Tereus had by force handselled her
  copyhold, and then cut out her tongue that she might not (as women will)
  tell tales.  I vow and swear by the handle of my paper lantern that it was
  a gallant, a mirific, nay, a most admirable piece.  Nor do you think, I
  pray you, that in it was the picture of a man playing the beast with two
  backs with a female; this had been too silly and gross:  no, no; it was
  another-guise thing, and much plainer.  You may, if you please, see it at
  Theleme, on the left hand as you go into the high gallery.  Epistemon
  bought another, wherein were painted to the life the ideas of Plato and the
  atoms of Epicurus.  Rhizotome purchased another, wherein Echo was drawn to
  the life.  Pantagruel caused to be bought, by Gymnast, the life and deeds
  of Achilles, in seventy-eight pieces of tapestry, four fathom long, and
  three fathom broad, all of Phrygian silk, embossed with gold and silver;
  the work beginning at the nuptials of Peleus and Thetis, continuing to the
  birth of Achilles; his youth, described by Statius Papinius; his warlike
  achievements, celebrated by Homer; his death and obsequies, written by Ovid
  and Quintus Calaber; and ending at the appearance of his ghost, and
  Polyxena's sacrifice, rehearsed by Euripides.
  
  He also caused to be bought three fine young unicorns; one of them a male
  of a chestnut colour, and two grey dappled females; also a tarand, whom he
  bought of a Scythian of the Gelones' country.
  
  A tarand is an animal as big as a bullock, having a head like a stag, or a
  little bigger, two stately horns with large branches, cloven feet, hair
  long like that of a furred Muscovite, I mean a bear, and a skin almost as
  hard as steel armour.  The Scythian said that there are but few tarands to
  be found in Scythia, because it varieth its colour according to the
  diversity of the places where it grazes and abides, and represents the
  colour of the grass, plants, trees, shrubs, flowers, meadows, rocks, and
  generally of all things near which it comes.  It hath this common with the
  sea-pulp, or polypus, with the thoes, with the wolves of India, and with
  the chameleon, which is a kind of a lizard so wonderful that Democritus
  hath written a whole book of its figure and anatomy, as also of its virtue
  and propriety in magic.  This I can affirm, that I have seen it change its
  colour, not only at the approach of things that have a colour, but by its
  own voluntary impulse, according to its fear or other affections; as, for
  example, upon a green carpet I have certainly seen it become green; but
  having remained there some time, it turned yellow, blue, tanned, and purple
  in course, in the same manner as you see a turkey-cock's comb change colour
  according to its passions.  But what we find most surprising in this tarand
  is, that not only its face and skin, but also its hair could take whatever
  colour was about it.  Near Panurge, with his kersey coat, its hair used to
  turn grey; near Pantagruel, with his scarlet mantle, its hair and skin grew
  red; near the pilot, dressed after the fashion of the Isiacs of Anubis in
  Egypt, its hair seemed all white, which two last colours the chameleons
  cannot borrow.
  
  When the creature was free from any fear or affection, the colour of its
  hair was just such as you see that of the asses of Meung.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel received a letter from his father Gargantua, and of the
  strange way to have speedy news from far distant places.
  
  While Pantagruel was taken up with the purchase of those foreign animals,
  the noise of ten guns and culverins, together with a loud and joyful cheer
  of all the fleet, was heard from the mole.  Pantagruel looked towards the
  haven, and perceived that this was occasioned by the arrival of one of his
  father Gargantua's celoces, or advice-boats, named the Chelidonia; because
  on the stern of it was carved in Corinthian brass a sea-swallow, which is a
  fish as large as a dare-fish of Loire, all flesh, without scale, with
  cartilaginous wings (like a bat's) very long and broad, by the means of
  which I have seen them fly about three fathom above water, about a
  bow-shot.  At Marseilles 'tis called lendole.  And indeed that ship was as
  light as a swallow, so that it rather seemed to fly on the sea than to
  sail.  Malicorne, Gargantua's esquire carver, was come in her, being sent
  expressly by his master to have an account of his son's health and
  circumstances, and to bring him credentials.  When Malicorne had saluted
  Pantagruel, before the prince opened the letters, the first thing he said
  to him was, Have you here the Gozal, the heavenly messenger?  Yes, sir,
  said he; here it is swaddled up in this basket.  It was a grey pigeon,
  taken out of Gargantua's dove-house, whose young ones were just hatched
  when the advice-boat was going off.
  
  If any ill fortune had befallen Pantagruel, he would have fastened some
  black ribbon to his feet; but because all things had succeeded happily
  hitherto, having caused it to be undressed, he tied to its feet a white
  ribbon, and without any further delay let it loose.  The pigeon presently
  flew away, cutting the air with an incredible speed, as you know that there
  is no flight like a pigeon's, especially when it hath eggs or young ones,
  through the extreme care which nature hath fixed in it to relieve and be
  with its young; insomuch that in less than two hours it compassed in the
  air the long tract which the advice-boat, with all her diligence, with oars
  and sails, and a fair wind, could not go through in less than three days
  and three nights; and was seen as it went into the dove-house in its nest.
  Whereupon Gargantua, hearing that it had the white ribbon on, was joyful
  and secure of his son's welfare.  This was the custom of the noble
  Gargantua and Pantagruel when they would have speedy news of something of
  great concern; as the event of some battle, either by sea or land; the
  surrendering or holding out of some strong place; the determination of some
  difference of moment; the safe or unhappy delivery of some queen or great
  lady; the death or recovery of their sick friends or allies, and so forth.
  They used to take the gozal, and had it carried from one to another by the
  post, to the places whence they desired to have news.  The gozal, bearing
  either a black or white ribbon, according to the occurrences and accidents,
  used to remove their doubts at its return, making in the space of one hour
  more way through the air than thirty postboys could have done in one
  natural day.  May not this be said to redeem and gain time with a
  vengeance, think you?  For the like service, therefore, you may believe as
  a most true thing that in the dove-houses of their farms there were to be
  found all the year long store of pigeons hatching eggs or rearing their
  young.  Which may be easily done in aviaries and voleries by the help of
  saltpetre and the sacred herb vervain.
  
  The gozal being let fly, Pantagruel perused his father Gargantua's letter,
  the contents of which were as followeth:
  
  My dearest Son,--The affection that naturally a father bears a beloved son
  is so much increased in me by reflecting on the particular gifts which by
  the divine goodness have been heaped on thee, that since thy departure it
  hath often banished all other thoughts out of my mind, leaving my heart
  wholly possessed with fear lest some misfortune has attended thy voyage;
  for thou knowest that fear was ever the attendant of true and sincere love.
  Now because, as Hesiod saith, A good beginning of anything is the half of
  it; or, Well begun's half done, according to the old saying; to free my
  mind from this anxiety I have expressly despatched Malicorne, that he may
  give me a true account of thy health at the beginning of thy voyage.  For
  if it be good, and such as I wish it, I shall easily foresee the rest.
  
  I have met with some diverting books, which the bearer will deliver thee;
  thou mayest read them when thou wantest to unbend and ease thy mind from
  thy better studies.  He will also give thee at large the news at court.
  The peace of the Lord be with thee.  Remember me to Panurge, Friar John,
  Epistemon, Xenomanes, Gymnast, and thy other principal domestics.  Dated at
  our paternal seat, this 13th day of June.
  
              Thy father and friend, Gargantua.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel writ to his father Gargantua, and sent him several
  curiosities.
  
  Pantagruel, having perused the letter, had a long conference with the
  esquire Malicorne; insomuch that Panurge, at last interrupting them, asked
  him, Pray, sir, when do you design to drink?  When shall we drink?  When
  shall the worshipful esquire drink?  What a devil! have you not talked long
  enough to drink?  It is a good motion, answered Pantagruel:  go, get us
  something ready at the next inn; I think 'tis the Centaur.  In the meantime
  he writ to Gargantua as followeth, to be sent by the aforesaid esquire:
  
  Most gracious Father,--As our senses and animal faculties are more
  discomposed at the news of events unexpected, though desired (even to an
  immediate dissolution of the soul from the body), than if those accidents
  had been foreseen, so the coming of Malicorne hath much surprised and
  disordered me.  For I had no hopes to see any of your servants, or to hear
  from you, before I had finished our voyage; and contented myself with the
  dear remembrance of your august majesty, deeply impressed in the hindmost
  ventricle of my brain, often representing you to my mind.
  
  But since you have made me happy beyond expectation by the perusal of your
  gracious letter, and the faith I have in your esquire hath revived my
  spirits by the news of your welfare, I am as it were compelled to do what
  formerly I did freely, that is, first to praise the blessed Redeemer, who
  by his divine goodness preserves you in this long enjoyment of perfect
  health; then to return you eternal thanks for the fervent affection which
  you have for me your most humble son and unprofitable servant.
  
  Formerly a Roman, named Furnius, said to Augustus, who had received his
  father into favour, and pardoned him after he had sided with Antony, that
  by that action the emperor had reduced him to this extremity, that for want
  of power to be grateful, both while he lived and after it, he should be
  obliged to be taxed with ingratitude.  So I may say, that the excess of
  your fatherly affection drives me into such a strait, that I shall be
  forced to live and die ungrateful; unless that crime be redressed by the
  sentence of the Stoics, who say that there are three parts in a benefit,
  the one of the giver, the other of the receiver, the third of the
  remunerator; and that the receiver rewards the giver when he freely
  receives the benefit and always remembers it; as, on the contrary, that man
  is most ungrateful who despises and forgets a benefit.  Therefore, being
  overwhelmed with infinite favours, all proceeding from your extreme
  goodness, and on the other side wholly incapable of making the smallest
  return, I hope at least to free myself from the imputation of ingratitude,
  since they can never be blotted out of my mind; and my tongue shall never
  cease to own that to thank you as I ought transcends my capacity.
  
  As for us, I have this assurance in the Lord's mercy and help, that the end
  of our voyage will be answerable to its beginning, and so it will be
  entirely performed in health and mirth.  I will not fail to set down in a
  journal a full account of our navigation, that at our return you may have
  an exact relation of the whole.
  
  I have found here a Scythian tarand, an animal strange and wonderful for
  the variations of colour on its skin and hair, according to the distinction
  of neighbouring things; it is as tractable and easily kept as a lamb.  Be
  pleased to accept of it.
  
  I also send you three young unicorns, which are the tamest of creatures.
  
  I have conferred with the esquire, and taught him how they must be fed.
  These cannot graze on the ground by reason of the long horn on their
  forehead, but are forced to browse on fruit trees, or on proper racks, or
  to be fed by hand, with herbs, sheaves, apples, pears, barley, rye, and
  other fruits and roots, being placed before them.
  
  I am amazed that ancient writers should report them to be so wild, furious,
  and dangerous, and never seen alive; far from it, you will find that they
  are the mildest things in the world, provided they are not maliciously
  offended.  Likewise I send you the life and deeds of Achilles in curious
  tapestry; assuring you whatever rarities of animals, plants, birds, or
  precious stones, and others, I shall be able to find and purchase in our
  travels, shall be brought to you, God willing, whom I beseech, by his
  blessed grace, to preserve you.
  
  From Medamothy, this 15th of June.  Panurge, Friar John, Epistemon,
  Zenomanes, Gymnast, Eusthenes, Rhizotome, and Carpalin, having most humbly
  kissed your hand, return your salute a thousand times.
  
         Your most dutiful son and servant, Pantagruel.
  
  While Pantagruel was writing this letter, Malicorne was made welcome by all
  with a thousand goodly good-morrows and how-d'ye's; they clung about him so
  that I cannot tell you how much they made of him, how many humble services,
  how many from my love and to my love were sent with him.  Pantagruel,
  having writ his letters, sat down at table with him, and afterwards
  presented him with a large chain of gold, weighing eight hundred crowns,
  between whose septenary links some large diamonds, rubies, emeralds,
  turquoise stones, and unions were alternately set in.  To each of his
  bark's crew he ordered to be given five hundred crowns.  To Gargantua, his
  father, he sent the tarand covered with a cloth of satin, brocaded with
  gold, and the tapestry containing the life and deeds of Achilles, with the
  three unicorns in friezed cloth of gold trappings; and so they left
  Medamothy--Malicorne to return to Gargantua, Pantagruel to proceed in his
  voyage, during which Epistemon read to him the books which the esquire had
  brought, and because he found them jovial and pleasant, I shall give you an
  account of them, if you earnestly desire it.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel met a ship with passengers returning from Lanternland.
  
  On the fifth day we began already to wind by little and little about the
  pole; going still farther from the equinoctial line, we discovered a
  merchant-man to the windward of us.  The joy for this was not small on both
  sides; we in hopes to hear news from sea, and those in the merchant-man
  from land.  So we bore upon 'em, and coming up with them we hailed them;
  and finding them to be Frenchmen of Xaintonge, backed our sails and lay by
  to talk to them.  Pantagruel heard that they came from Lanternland; which
  added to his joy, and that of the whole fleet.  We inquired about the state
  of that country, and the way of living of the Lanterns; and were told that
  about the latter end of the following July was the time prefixed for the
  meeting of the general chapter of the Lanterns; and that if we arrived
  there at that time, as we might easily, we should see a handsome,
  honourable, and jolly company of Lanterns; and that great preparations were
  making, as if they intended to lanternize there to the purpose.  We were
  told also that if we touched at the great kingdom of Gebarim, we should be
  honourably received and treated by the sovereign of that country, King
  Ohabe, who, as well as all his subjects, speaks Touraine French.
  
  While we were listening to these news, Panurge fell out with one Dingdong,
  a drover or sheep-merchant of Taillebourg.  The occasion of the fray was
  thus:
  
  This same Dingdong, seeing Panurge without a codpiece, with his spectacles
  fastened to his cap, said to one of his comrades, Prithee, look, is there
  not a fine medal of a cuckold?  Panurge, by reason of his spectacles, as
  you may well think, heard more plainly by half with his ears than usually;
  which caused him (hearing this) to say to the saucy dealer in mutton, in a
  kind of a pet:
  
  How the devil should I be one of the hornified fraternity, since I am not
  yet a brother of the marriage-noose, as thou art; as I guess by thy
  ill-favoured phiz?
  
  Yea, verily, quoth the grazier, I am married, and would not be otherwise
  for all the pairs of spectacles in Europe; nay, not for all the magnifying
  gimcracks in Africa; for I have got me the cleverest, prettiest,
  handsomest, properest, neatest, tightest, honestest, and soberest piece of
  woman's flesh for my wife that is in all the whole country of Xaintonge;
  I'll say that for her, and a fart for all the rest.  I bring her home a
  fine eleven-inch-long branch of red coral for her Christmas-box.  What hast
  thou to do with it? what's that to thee? who art thou? whence comest thou,
  O dark lantern of Antichrist?  Answer, if thou art of God.  I ask thee, by
  the way of question, said Panurge to him very seriously, if with the
  consent and countenance of all the elements, I had gingumbobbed, codpieced,
  and thumpthumpriggledtickledtwiddled thy so clever, so pretty, so handsome,
  so proper, so neat, so tight, so honest, and so sober female importance,
  insomuch that the stiff deity that has no forecast, Priapus (who dwells
  here at liberty, all subjection of fastened codpieces, or bolts, bars, and
  locks, abdicated), remained sticking in her natural Christmas-box in such a
  lamentable manner that it were never to come out, but eternally should
  stick there unless thou didst pull it out with thy teeth; what wouldst thou
  do?  Wouldst thou everlastingly leave it there, or wouldst thou pluck it
  out with thy grinders?  Answer me, O thou ram of Mahomet, since thou art
  one of the devil's gang.  I would, replied the sheepmonger, take thee such
  a woundy cut on this spectacle-bearing lug of thine with my trusty bilbo as
  would smite thee dead as a herring.  Thus, having taken pepper in the nose,
  he was lugging out his sword, but, alas!--cursed cows have short horns,--it
  stuck in the scabbard; as you know that at sea cold iron will easily take
  rust by reason of the excessive and nitrous moisture.  Panurge, so smitten
  with terror that his heart sunk down to his midriff, scoured off to
  Pantagruel for help; but Friar John laid hand on his flashing scimitar that
  was new ground, and would certainly have despatched Dingdong to rights, had
  not the skipper and some of his passengers beseeched Pantagruel not to
  suffer such an outrage to be committed on board his ship.  So the matter
  was made up, and Panurge and his antagonist shaked fists, and drank in
  course to one another in token of a perfect reconciliation.
  
  
  
  
  How, the fray being over, Panurge cheapened one of Dingdong's sheep.
  
  This quarrel being hushed, Panurge tipped the wink upon Epistemon and Friar
  John, and taking them aside, Stand at some distance out of the way, said
  he, and take your share of the following scene of mirth.  You shall have
  rare sport anon, if my cake be not dough, and my plot do but take.  Then
  addressing himself to the drover, he took off to him a bumper of good
  lantern wine.  The other pledged him briskly and courteously.  This done,
  Panurge earnestly entreated him to sell him one of his sheep.
  
  But the other answered him, Is it come to that, friend and neighbour?
  Would you put tricks upon travellers?  Alas, how finely you love to play
  upon poor folk!  Nay, you seem a rare chapman, that's the truth on't.  Oh,
  what a mighty sheep-merchant you are!  In good faith, you look liker one of
  the diving trade than a buyer of sheep.  Adzookers, what a blessing it
  would be to have one's purse well lined with chink near your worship at a
  tripe-house when it begins to thaw!  Humph, humph, did not we know you
  well, you might serve one a slippery trick!  Pray do but see, good people,
  what a mighty conjuror the fellow would be reckoned.  Patience, said
  Panurge; but waiving that, be so kind as to sell me one of your sheep.
  Come, how much?  What do you mean, master of mine? answered the other.
  They are long-wool sheep; from these did Jason take his golden fleece.  The
  gold of the house of Burgundy was drawn from them.  Zwoons, man, they are
  oriental sheep, topping sheep, fatted sheep, sheep of quality.  Be it so,
  said Panurge; but sell me one of them, I beseech you; and that for a cause,
  paying you ready money upon the nail, in good and lawful occidental current
  cash.  Wilt say how much?  Friend, neighbour, answered the seller of
  mutton, hark ye me a little, on the ear.
  
    Panurge.  On which side you please; I hear you.
  
    Dingdong.  You are going to Lanternland, they say.
  
    Panurge.  Yea, verily.
  
    Dingdong.  To see fashions?
  
    Panurge.  Even so.
  
    Dingdong.  And be merry?
  
    Panurge.  And be merry.
  
    Dingdong.  Your name is, as I take it, Robin Mutton?
  
    Panurge.  As you please for that, sweet sir.
  
    Dingdong.  Nay, without offence.
  
    Panurge.  So I would have it.
  
    Dingdong.  You are, as I take it, the king's jester; aren't you?
  
    Panurge.  Ay, ay, anything.
  
    Dingdong.  Give me your hand--humph, humph, you go to see fashions, you
  are the king's jester, your name is Robin Mutton!  Do you see this same
  ram?  His name, too, is Robin.  Here, Robin, Robin, Robin!  Baea, baea,
  baea.  Hath he not a rare voice?
  
    Panurge.  Ay, marry has he, a very fine and harmonious voice.
  
    Dingdong.  Well, this bargain shall be made between you and me, friend
  and neighbour; we will get a pair of scales, then you Robin Mutton shall be
  put into one of them, and Tup Robin into the other.  Now I will hold you a
  peck of Busch oysters that in weight, value, and price he shall outdo you,
  and you shall be found light in the very numerical manner as when you shall
  be hanged and suspended.
  
  Patience, said Panurge; but you would do much for me and your whole
  posterity if you would chaffer with me for him, or some other of his
  inferiors.  I beg it of you; good your worship, be so kind.  Hark ye,
  friend of mine, answered the other; with the fleece of these your fine
  Rouen cloth is to be made; your Leominster superfine wool is mine arse to
  it; mere flock in comparison.  Of their skins the best cordovan will be
  made, which shall be sold for Turkey and Montelimart, or for Spanish
  leather at least.  Of the guts shall be made fiddle and harp strings that
  will sell as dear as if they came from Munican or Aquileia.  What do you
  think on't, hah?  If you please, sell me one of them, said Panurge, and I
  will be yours for ever.  Look, here's ready cash.  What's the price?  This
  he said exhibiting his purse stuffed with new Henricuses.
  
  
  
  
  Which if you read you'll find how Panurge bargained with Dingdong.
  
  Neighbour, my friend, answered Dingdong, they are meat for none but kings
  and princes; their flesh is so delicate, so savoury, and so dainty that one
  would swear it melted in the mouth.  I bring them out of a country where
  the very hogs, God be with us, live on nothing but myrobolans.  The sows in
  the styes when they lie-in (saving the honour of this good company) are fed
  only with orange-flowers.  But, said Panurge, drive a bargain with me for
  one of them, and I will pay you for't like a king, upon the honest word of
  a true Trojan; come, come, what do you ask?  Not so fast, Robin, answered
  the trader; these sheep are lineally descended from the very family of the
  ram that wafted Phryxus and Helle over the sea since called the Hellespont.
  A pox on't, said Panurge, you are clericus vel addiscens!  Ita is a
  cabbage, and vere a leek, answered the merchant.  But, rr, rrr, rrrr,
  rrrrr, hoh Robin, rr, rrrrrrr, you don't understand that gibberish, do you?
  Now I think on't, over all the fields where they piss, corn grows as fast
  as if the Lord had pissed there; they need neither be tilled nor dunged.
  Besides, man, your chemists extract the best saltpetre in the world out of
  their urine.  Nay, with their very dung (with reverence be it spoken) the
  doctors in our country make pills that cure seventy-eight kinds of
  diseases, the least of which is the evil of St. Eutropius of Xaintes, from
  which, good Lord, deliver us!  Now what do you think on't, neighbour, my
  friend?  The truth is, they cost me money, that they do.  Cost what they
  will, cried Panurge, trade with me for one of them, paying you well.  Our
  friend, quoth the quacklike sheepman, do but mind the wonders of nature
  that are found in those animals, even in a member which one would think
  were of no use.  Take me but these horns, and bray them a little with an
  iron pestle, or with an andiron, which you please, it is all one to me;
  then bury them wherever you will, provided it be where the sun may shine,
  and water them frequently; in a few months I'll engage you will have the
  best asparagus in the world, not even excepting those of Ravenna.  Now,
  come and tell me whether the horns of your other knights of the bull's
  feather have such a virtue and wonderful propriety?
  
  Patience, said Panurge.  I don't know whether you be a scholar or no,
  pursued Dingdong; I have seen a world of scholars, I say great scholars,
  that were cuckolds, I'll assure you.  But hark you me, if you were a
  scholar, you should know that in the most inferior members of those
  animals, which are the feet, there is a bone, which is the heel, the
  astragalus, if you will have it so, wherewith, and with that of no other
  creature breathing, except the Indian ass and the dorcades of Libya, they
  used in old times to play at the royal game of dice, whereat Augustus the
  emperor won above fifty thousand crowns one evening.  Now such cuckolds as
  you will be hanged ere you get half so much at it.  Patience, said Panurge;
  but let us despatch.  And when, my friend and neighbour, continued the
  canting sheepseller, shall I have duly praised the inward members, the
  shoulders, the legs, the knuckles, the neck, the breast, the liver, the
  spleen, the tripes, the kidneys, the bladder, wherewith they make
  footballs; the ribs, which serve in Pigmyland to make little crossbows to
  pelt the cranes with cherry-stones; the head, which with a little brimstone
  serves to make a miraculous decoction to loosen and ease the belly of
  costive dogs?  A turd on't, said the skipper to his preaching passenger,
  what a fiddle-faddle have we here?  There is too long a lecture by half:
  sell him if thou wilt; if thou won't, don't let the man lose more time.  I
  hate a gibble-gabble and a rimble-ramble talk.  I am for a man of brevity.
  I will, for your sake, replied the holder-forth; but then he shall give me
  three livres, French money, for each pick and choose.  It is a woundy
  price, cried Panurge; in our country I could have five, nay six, for the
  money; see that you do not overreach me, master.  You are not the first man
  whom I have known to have fallen, even sometimes to the endangering, if not
  breaking, of his own neck, for endeavouring to rise all at once.  A murrain
  seize thee for a blockheaded booby, cried the angry seller of sheep; by the
  worthy vow of Our Lady of Charroux, the worst in this flock is four times
  better than those which the Coraxians in Tuditania, a country of Spain,
  used to sell for a gold talent each; and how much dost thou think, thou
  Hibernian fool, that a talent of gold was worth?  Sweet sir, you fall into
  a passion, I see, returned Panurge; well, hold, here is your money.
  Panurge, having paid his money, chose him out of all the flock a fine
  topping ram; and as he was hauling it along, crying out and bleating, all
  the rest, hearing and bleating in concert, stared to see whither their
  brother-ram should be carried.  In the meanwhile the drover was saying to
  his shepherds:  Ah! how well the knave could choose him out a ram; the
  whoreson has skill in cattle.  On my honest word, I reserved that very
  piece of flesh for the Lord of Cancale, well knowing his disposition; for
  the good man is naturally overjoyed when he holds a good-sized handsome
  shoulder of mutton, instead of a left-handed racket, in one hand, with a
  good sharp carver in the other.  God wot, how he belabours himself then.
  
  
  
  
  How Panurge caused Dingdong and his sheep to be drowned in the sea.
  
  On a sudden, you would wonder how the thing was so soon done--for my part I
  cannot tell you, for I had not leisure to mind it--our friend Panurge,
  without any further tittle-tattle, throws you his ram overboard into the
  middle of the sea, bleating and making a sad noise.  Upon this all the
  other sheep in the ship, crying and bleating in the same tone, made all the
  haste they could to leap nimbly into the sea, one after another; and great
  was the throng who should leap in first after their leader.  It was
  impossible to hinder them; for you know that it is the nature of sheep
  always to follow the first wheresoever it goes; which makes Aristotle, lib.
  9. De. Hist. Animal., mark them for the most silly and foolish animals in
  the world.  Dingdong, at his wits' end, and stark staring mad, as a man who
  saw his sheep destroy and drown themselves before his face, strove to
  hinder and keep them back with might and main; but all in vain:  they all
  one after t'other frisked and jumped into the sea, and were lost.  At last
  he laid hold on a huge sturdy one by the fleece, upon the deck of the ship,
  hoping to keep it back, and so save that and the rest; but the ram was so
  strong that it proved too hard for him, and carried its master into the
  herring pond in spite of his teeth--where it is supposed he drank somewhat
  more than his fill, so that he was drowned--in the same manner as one-eyed
  Polyphemus' sheep carried out of the den Ulysses and his companions.  The
  like happened to the shepherds and all their gang, some laying hold on
  their beloved tup, this by the horns, t'other by the legs, a third by the
  rump, and others by the fleece; till in fine they were all of them forced
  to sea, and drowned like so many rats.  Panurge, on the gunnel of the ship,
  with an oar in his hand, not to help them you may swear, but to keep them
  from swimming to the ship and saving themselves from drowning, preached and
  canted to them all the while like any little Friar (Oliver) Maillard, or
  another Friar John Burgess; laying before them rhetorical commonplaces
  concerning the miseries of this life and the blessings and felicity of the
  next; assuring them that the dead were much happier than the living in this
  vale of misery, and promised to erect a stately cenotaph and honorary tomb
  to every one of them on the highest summit of Mount Cenis at his return
  from Lanternland; wishing them, nevertheless, in case they were not yet
  disposed to shake hands with this life, and did not like their salt liquor,
  they might have the good luck to meet with some kind whale which might set
  them ashore safe and sound on some blessed land of Gotham, after a famous
  example.
  
  The ship being cleared of Dingdong and his tups:  Is there ever another
  sheepish soul left lurking on board? cried Panurge.  Where are those of
  Toby Lamb and Robin Ram that sleep while the rest are a-feeding?  Faith, I
  can't tell myself.  This was an old coaster's trick.  What think'st of it,
  Friar John, hah?  Rarely performed, answered Friar John; only methinks that
  as formerly in war, on the day of battle, a double pay was commonly
  promised the soldiers for that day; for if they overcame, there was enough
  to pay them; and if they lost, it would have been shameful for them to
  demand it, as the cowardly foresters did after the battle of Cerizoles;
  likewise, my friend, you ought not to have paid your man, and the money had
  been saved.  A fart for the money, said Panurge; have I not had above fifty
  thousand pounds' worth of sport?  Come now, let's be gone; the wind is
  fair.  Hark you me, my friend John; never did man do me a good turn, but I
  returned, or at least acknowledged it; no, I scorn to be ungrateful; I
  never was, nor ever will be.  Never did man do me an ill one without rueing
  the day that he did it, either in this world or the next.  I am not yet so
  much a fool neither.  Thou damn'st thyself like any old devil, quoth Friar
  John; it is written, Mihi vindictam, &c.  Matter of breviary, mark ye me
  (Motteux adds unnecessarily (by way of explanation), 'that's holy stuff.').
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel arrived at the island of Ennasin, and of the strange ways of
  being akin in that country.
  
  We had still the wind at south-south-west, and had been a whole day without
  making land.  On the third day, at the flies' uprising (which, you know, is
  some two or three hours after the sun's), we got sight of a triangular
  island, very much like Sicily for its form and situation.  It was called
  the Island of Alliances.
  
  The people there are much like your carrot-pated Poitevins, save only that
  all of them, men, women, and children, have their noses shaped like an ace
  of clubs.  For that reason the ancient name of the country was Ennasin.
  They were all akin, as the mayor of the place told us; at least they
  boasted so.
  
  You people of the other world esteem it a wonderful thing that, out of the
  family of the Fabii at Rome, on a certain day, which was the 13th of
  February, at a certain gate, which was the Porta Carmentalis, since named
  Scelerata, formerly situated at the foot of the Capitol, between the
  Tarpeian rock and the Tiber, marched out against the Veientes of Etruria
  three hundred and six men bearing arms, all related to each other, with
  five thousand other soldiers, every one of them their vassals, who were all
  slain near the river Cremera, that comes out of the lake of Beccano.  Now
  from this same country of Ennasin, in case of need, above three hundred
  thousand, all relations and of one family, might march out.  Their degrees
  of consanguinity and alliance are very strange; for being thus akin and
  allied to one another, we found that none was either father or mother,
  brother or sister, uncle or aunt, nephew or niece, son-in-law or
  daughter-in-law, godfather or godmother, to the other; unless, truly, a tall
  flat-nosed old fellow, who, as I perceived, called a little shitten-arsed
  girl of three or four years old, father, and the child called him daughter.
  
  Their distinction of degrees of kindred was thus:  a man used to call a
  woman, my lean bit; the woman called him, my porpoise.  Those, said Friar
  John, must needs stink damnably of fish when they have rubbed their bacon
  one with the other.  One, smiling on a young buxom baggage, said, Good
  morrow, dear currycomb.  She, to return him his civility, said, The like to
  you, my steed.  Ha! ha! ha! said Panurge, that is pretty well, in faith;
  for indeed it stands her in good stead to currycomb this steed.  Another
  greeted his buttock with a Farewell, my case.  She replied, Adieu, trial.
  By St. Winifred's placket, cried Gymnast, this case has been often tried.
  Another asked a she-friend of his, How is it, hatchet?  She answered him,
  At your service, dear helve.  Odds belly, saith Carpalin, this helve and
  this hatchet are well matched.  As we went on, I saw one who, calling his
  she-relation, styled her my crumb, and she called him, my crust.
  
  Quoth one to a brisk, plump, juicy female, I am glad to see you, dear tap.
  So am I to find you so merry, sweet spiggot, replied she.  One called a
  wench, his shovel; she called him, her peal:  one named his, my slipper;
  and she, my foot:  another, my boot; she, my shasoon.
  
  In the same degree of kindred, one called his, my butter; she called him,
  my eggs; and they were akin just like a dish of buttered eggs.  I heard one
  call his, my tripe, and she him, my faggot.  Now I could not, for the
  heart's blood of me, pick out or discover what parentage, alliance,
  affinity, or consanguinity was between them, with reference to our custom;
  only they told us that she was faggot's tripe.  (Tripe de fagot means the
  smallest sticks in a faggot.)  Another, complimenting his convenient, said,
  Yours, my shell; she replied, I was yours before, sweet oyster.  I reckon,
  said Carpalin, she hath gutted his oyster.  Another long-shanked ugly
  rogue, mounted on a pair of high-heeled wooden slippers, meeting a
  strapping, fusty, squabbed dowdy, says he to her, How is't my top?  She was
  short upon him, and arrogantly replied, Never the better for you, my whip.
  By St. Antony's hog, said Xenomanes, I believe so; for how can this whip be
  sufficient to lash this top?
  
  A college professor, well provided with cod, and powdered and prinked up,
  having a while discoursed with a great lady, taking his leave with these
  words, Thank you, sweetmeat; she cried, There needs no thanks, sour-sauce.
  Saith Pantagruel, This is not altogether incongruous, for sweet meat must
  have sour sauce.  A wooden loggerhead said to a young wench, It is long
  since I saw you, bag; All the better, cried she, pipe.  Set them together,
  said Panurge, then blow in their arses, it will be a bagpipe.  We saw,
  after that, a diminutive humpbacked gallant, pretty near us, taking leave
  of a she-relation of his, thus:  Fare thee well, friend hole; she
  reparteed, Save thee, friend peg.  Quoth Friar John, What could they say
  more, were he all peg and she all hole?  But now would I give something to
  know if every cranny of the hole can be stopped up with that same peg.
  
  A bawdy bachelor, talking with an old trout, was saying, Remember, rusty
  gun.  I will not fail, said she, scourer.  Do you reckon these two to be
  akin? said Pantagruel to the mayor.  I rather take them to be foes.  In our
  country a woman would take this as a mortal affront.  Good people of
  t'other world, replied the mayor, you have few such and so near relations
  as this gun and scourer are to one another; for they both come out of one
  shop.  What, was the shop their mother? quoth Panurge.  What mother, said
  the mayor, does the man mean?  That must be some of your world's affinity;
  we have here neither father nor mother.  Your little paltry fellows that
  live on t'other side the water, poor rogues, booted with wisps of hay, may
  indeed have such; but we scorn it.  The good Pantagruel stood gazing and
  listening; but at those words he had like to have lost all patience. (Here
  Motteux adds an aside--'os kai nun o Ermeneutes.  P.M.').
  
  Having very exactly viewed the situation of the island and the way of
  living of the Enassed nation, we went to take a cup of the creature at a
  tavern, where there happened to be a wedding after the manner of the
  country.  Bating that shocking custom, there was special good cheer.
  
  While we were there, a pleasant match was struck up betwixt a female called
  Pear (a tight thing, as we thought, but by some, who knew better things,
  said to be quaggy and flabby), and a young soft male, called Cheese,
  somewhat sandy.  (Many such matches have been, and they were formerly much
  commended.)  In our country we say, Il ne fut onques tel mariage, qu'est de
  la poire et du fromage; there is no match like that made between the pear
  and the cheese; and in many other places good store of such bargains have
  been driven.  Besides, when the women are at their last prayers, it is to
  this day a noted saying, that after cheese comes nothing.
  
  In another room I saw them marrying an old greasy boot to a young pliable
  buskin.  Pantagruel was told that young buskin took old boot to have and to
  hold because she was of special leather, in good case, and waxed, seared,
  liquored, and greased to the purpose, even though it had been for the
  fisherman that went to bed with his boots on.  In another room below, I saw
  a young brogue taking a young slipper for better for worse; which, they
  told us, was neither for the sake of her piety, parts, or person, but for
  the fourth comprehensive p, portion; the spankers, spur-royals,
  rose-nobles, and other coriander seed with which she was quilted all over.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel went ashore at the island of Chely, where he saw King St.
  Panigon.
  
  We sailed right before the wind, which we had at west, leaving those odd
  alliancers with their ace-of-clubs snouts, and having taken height by the
  sun, stood in for Chely, a large, fruitful, wealthy, and well-peopled
  island.  King St. Panigon, first of the name, reigned there, and, attended
  by the princes his sons and the nobles of his court, came as far as the
  port to receive Pantagruel, and conducted him to his palace; near the gate
  of which the queen, attended by the princesses her daughters and the court
  ladies, received us.  Panigon directed her and all her retinue to salute
  Pantagruel and his men with a kiss; for such was the civil custom of the
  country; and they were all fairly bussed accordingly, except Friar John,
  who stepped aside and sneaked off among the king's officers.  Panigon used
  all the entreaties imaginable to persuade Pantagruel to tarry there that
  day and the next; but he would needs be gone, and excused himself upon the
  opportunity of wind and weather, which, being oftener desired than enjoyed,
  ought not to be neglected when it comes.  Panigon, having heard these
  reasons, let us go, but first made us take off some five-and-twenty or
  thirty bumpers each.
  
  Pantagruel, returning to the port, missed Friar John, and asked why he was
  not with the rest of the company.  Panurge could not tell how to excuse
  him, and would have gone back to the palace to call him, when Friar John
  overtook them, and merrily cried, Long live the noble Panigon!  As I love
  my belly, he minds good eating, and keeps a noble house and a dainty
  kitchen.  I have been there, boys.  Everything goes about by dozens.  I was
  in good hopes to have stuffed my puddings there like a monk.  What! always
  in a kitchen, friend? said Pantagruel.  By the belly of St. Cramcapon,
  quoth the friar, I understand the customs and ceremonies which are used
  there much better than all the formal stuff, antique postures, and
  nonsensical fiddle-faddle that must be used with those women, magni magna,
  shittencumshita, cringes, grimaces, scrapes, bows, and congees; double
  honours this way, triple salutes that way, the embrace, the grasp, the
  squeeze, the hug, the leer, the smack, baso las manos de vostra merce, de
  vostra maesta.  You are most tarabin, tarabas, Stront; that's downright
  Dutch.  Why all this ado?  I don't say but a man might be for a bit by the
  bye and away, to be doing as well as his neighbours; but this little nasty
  cringing and courtesying made me as mad as any March devil.  You talk of
  kissing ladies; by the worthy and sacred frock I wear, I seldom venture
  upon it, lest I be served as was the Lord of Guyercharois.  What was it?
  said Pantagruel; I know him.  He is one of the best friends I have.
  
  He was invited to a sumptuous feast, said Friar John, by a relation and
  neighbour of his, together with all the gentlemen and ladies in the
  neighbourhood.  Now some of the latter expecting his coming, dressed the
  pages in women's clothes, and finified them like any babies; then ordered
  them to meet my lord at his coming near the drawbridge.  So the
  complimenting monsieur came, and there kissed the petticoated lads with
  great formality.  At last the ladies, who minded passages in the gallery,
  burst out with laughing, and made signs to the pages to take off their
  dress; which the good lord having observed, the devil a bit he durst make
  up to the true ladies to kiss them, but said, that since they had disguised
  the pages, by his great grandfather's helmet, these were certainly the very
  footmen and grooms still more cunningly disguised.  Odds fish, da jurandi,
  why do not we rather remove our humanities into some good warm kitchen of
  God, that noble laboratory, and there admire the turning of the spits, the
  harmonious rattling of the jacks and fenders, criticise on the position of
  the lard, the temperature of the pottages, the preparation for the dessert,
  and the order of the wine service?  Beati immaculati in via.  Matter of
  breviary, my masters.
  
  
  
  
  Why monks love to be in kitchens.
  
  This, said Epistemon, is spoke like a true monk; I mean like a right
  monking monk, not a bemonked monastical monkling.  Truly you put me in mind
  of some passages that happened at Florence, some twenty years ago, in a
  company of studious travellers, fond of visiting the learned, and seeing
  the antiquities of Italy, among whom I was.  As we viewed the situation and
  beauty of Florence, the structure of the dome, the magnificence of the
  churches and palaces, we strove to outdo one another in giving them their
  due; when a certain monk of Amiens, Bernard Lardon by name, quite angry,
  scandalized, and out of all patience, told us, I don't know what the devil
  you can find in this same town, that is so much cried up; for my part I
  have looked and pored and stared as well as the best of you; I think my
  eyesight is as clear as another body's, and what can one see after all?
  There are fine houses, indeed and that's all.  But the cage does not feed
  the birds.  God and Monsieur St. Bernard, our good patron, be with us! in
  all this same town I have not seen one poor lane of roasting cooks; and yet
  I have not a little looked about and sought for so necessary a part of a
  commonwealth:  ay, and I dare assure you that I have pried up and down with
  the exactness of an informer; as ready to number, both to the right and
  left, how many, and on what side, we might find most roasting cooks, as a
  spy would be to reckon the bastions of a town.  Now at Amiens, in four,
  nay, five times less ground than we have trod in our contemplations, I
  could have shown you above fourteen streets of roasting cooks, most
  ancient, savoury, and aromatic.  I cannot imagine what kind of pleasure you
  can have taken in gazing on the lions and Africans (so methinks you call
  their tigers) near the belfry, or in ogling the porcupines and estridges in
  the Lord Philip Strozzi's palace.  Faith and truth I had rather see a good
  fat goose at the spit.  This porphyry, those marbles are fine; I say
  nothing to the contrary; but our cheesecakes at Amiens are far better in my
  mind.  These ancient statues are well made; I am willing to believe it;
  but, by St. Ferreol of Abbeville, we have young wenches in our country
  which please me better a thousand times.
  
  What is the reason, asked Friar John, that monks are always to be found in
  kitchens, and kings, emperors, and popes are never there?  Is there not,
  said Rhizotome, some latent virtue and specific propriety hid in the
  kettles and pans, which, as the loadstone attracts iron, draws the monks
  there, and cannot attract emperors, popes, or kings?  Or is it a natural
  induction and inclination, fixed in the frocks and cowls, which of itself
  leads and forceth those good religious men into kitchens, whether they will
  or no?  He would speak of forms following matter, as Averroes calls them,
  answered Epistemon.  Right, said Friar John.
  
  I will not offer to solve this problem, said Pantagruel; for it is somewhat
  ticklish, and you can hardly handle it without coming off scurvily; but I
  will tell you what I have heard.
  
  Antigonus, King of Macedon, one day coming into one of the tents, where his
  cooks used to dress his meat, and finding there poet Antagoras frying a
  conger, and holding the pan himself, merrily asked him, Pray, Mr. Poet, was
  Homer frying congers when he wrote the deeds of Agamemnon?  Antagoras
  readily answered:  But do you think, sir, that when Agamemnon did them he
  made it his business to know if any in his camp were frying congers?  The
  king thought it an indecency that a poet should be thus a-frying in a
  kitchen; and the poet let the king know that it was a more indecent thing
  for a king to be found in such a place.  I'll clap another story upon the
  neck of this, quoth Panurge, and will tell you what Breton Villandry
  answered one day to the Duke of Guise.
  
  They were saying that at a certain battle of King Francis against Charles
  the Fifth, Breton, armed cap-a-pie to the teeth, and mounted like St.
  George, yet sneaked off, and played least in sight during the engagement.
  Blood and oons, answered Breton, I was there, and can prove it easily; nay,
  even where you, my lord, dared not have been.  The duke began to resent
  this as too rash and saucy; but Breton easily appeased him, and set them
  all a-laughing.  Egad, my lord, quoth he, I kept out of harm's way; I was
  all the while with your page Jack, skulking in a certain place where you
  had not dared hide your head as I did.  Thus discoursing, they got to their
  ships, and left the island of Chely.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel passed by the land of Pettifogging, and of the strange way
  of living among the Catchpoles.
  
  Steering our course forwards the next day, we passed through Pettifogging,
  a country all blurred and blotted, so that I could hardly tell what to make
  on't.  There we saw some pettifoggers and catchpoles, rogues that will hang
  their father for a groat.  They neither invited us to eat or drink; but,
  with a multiplied train of scrapes and cringes, said they were all at our
  service for the Legem pone.
  
  One of our droggermen related to Pantagruel their strange way of living,
  diametrically opposed to that of our modern Romans; for at Rome a world of
  folks get an honest livelihood by poisoning, drubbing, lambasting,
  stabbing, and murthering; but the catchpoles earn theirs by being thrashed;
  so that if they were long without a tight lambasting, the poor dogs with
  their wives and children would be starved.  This is just, quoth Panurge,
  like those who, as Galen tells us, cannot erect the cavernous nerve towards
  the equinoctial circle unless they are soundly flogged.  By St. Patrick's
  slipper, whoever should jerk me so, would soon, instead of setting me
  right, throw me off the saddle, in the devil's name.
  
  The way is this, said the interpreter.  When a monk, levite, close-fisted
  usurer, or lawyer owes a grudge to some neighbouring gentleman, he sends to
  him one of those catchpoles or apparitors, who nabs, or at least cites him,
  serves a writ or warrant upon him, thumps, abuses, and affronts him
  impudently by natural instinct, and according to his pious instructions;
  insomuch, that if the gentleman hath but any guts in his brains, and is not
  more stupid than a gyrin frog, he will find himself obliged either to apply
  a faggot-stick or his sword to the rascal's jobbernowl, give him the gentle
  lash, or make him cut a caper out at the window, by way of correction.
  This done, Catchpole is rich for four months at least, as if bastinadoes
  were his real harvest; for the monk, levite, usurer, or lawyer will reward
  him roundly; and my gentleman must pay him such swingeing damages that his
  acres must bleed for it, and he be in danger of miserably rotting within a
  stone doublet, as if he had struck the king.
  
  Quoth Panurge, I know an excellent remedy against this used by the Lord of
  Basche.  What is it? said Pantagruel.  The Lord of Basche, said Panurge,
  was a brave, honest, noble-spirited gentleman, who, at his return from the
  long war in which the Duke of Ferrara, with the help of the French, bravely
  defended himself against the fury of Pope Julius the Second, was every day
  cited, warned, and prosecuted at the suit and for the sport and fancy of
  the fat prior of St. Louant.
  
  One morning, as he was at breakfast with some of his domestics (for he
  loved to be sometimes among them) he sent for one Loire, his baker, and his
  spouse, and for one Oudart, the vicar of his parish, who was also his
  butler, as the custom was then in France; then said to them before his
  gentlemen and other servants:  You all see how I am daily plagued with
  these rascally catchpoles.  Truly, if you do not lend me your helping hand,
  I am finally resolved to leave the country, and go fight for the sultan, or
  the devil, rather than be thus eternally teased.  Therefore, to be rid of
  their damned visits, hereafter, when any of them come here, be ready, you
  baker and your wife, to make your personal appearance in my great hall, in
  your wedding clothes, as if you were going to be affianced.  Here, take
  these ducats, which I give you to keep you in a fitting garb.  As for you,
  Sir Oudart, be sure you make your personal appearance there in your fine
  surplice and stole, not forgetting your holy water, as if you were to wed
  them.  Be you there also, Trudon, said he to his drummer, with your pipe
  and tabor.  The form of matrimony must be read, and the bride kissed; then
  all of you, as the witnesses used to do in this country, shall give one
  another the remembrance of the wedding, which you know is to be a blow with
  your fist, bidding the party struck remember the nuptials by that token.
  This will but make you have the better stomach to your supper; but when you
  come to the catchpole's turn, thrash him thrice and threefold, as you would
  a sheaf of green corn; do not spare him; maul him, drub him, lambast him,
  swinge him off, I pray you.  Here, take these steel gauntlets, covered with
  kid.  Head, back, belly, and sides, give him blows innumerable; he that
  gives him most shall be my best friend.  Fear not to be called to an
  account about it; I will stand by you; for the blows must seem to be given
  in jest, as it is customary among us at all weddings.
  
  Ay, but how shall we know the catchpole? said the man of God.  All sorts of
  people daily resort to this castle.  I have taken care of that, replied the
  lord.  When some fellow, either on foot, or on a scurvy jade, with a large
  broad silver ring on his thumb, comes to the door, he is certainly a
  catchpole; the porter having civilly let him in, shall ring the bell; then
  be all ready, and come into the hall, to act the tragi-comedy whose plot I
  have now laid for you.
  
  That numerical day, as chance would have it, came an old fat ruddy
  catchpole.  Having knocked at the gate, and then pissed, as most men will
  do, the porter soon found him out, by his large greasy spatterdashes, his
  jaded hollow-flanked mare, his bagful of writs and informations dangling at
  his girdle, but, above all, by the large silver hoop on his left thumb.
  
  The porter was civil to him, admitted him in kindly, and rung the bell
  briskly. As soon as the baker and his wife heard it, they clapped on their
  best clothes, and made their personal appearance in the hall, keeping their
  gravities like a new-made judge.  The dominie put on his surplice and
  stole, and as he came out of his office, met the catchpole, had him in
  there, and made him suck his face a good while, while the gauntlets were
  drawing on all hands; and then told him, You are come just in pudding-time;
  my lord is in his right cue.  We shall feast like kings anon; here is to be
  swingeing doings; we have a wedding in the house; here, drink and cheer up;
  pull away.
  
  While these two were at it hand-to-fist, Basche, seeing all his people in
  the hall in their proper equipage, sends for the vicar.  Oudart comes with
  the holy-water pot, followed by the catchpole, who, as he came into the
  hall, did not forget to make good store of awkward cringes, and then served
  Basche with a writ.  Basche gave him grimace for grimace, slipped an angel
  into his mutton-fist, and prayed him to assist at the contract and
  ceremony; which he did.  When it was ended, thumps and fisticuffs began to
  fly about among the assistants; but when it came to the catchpole's turn,
  they all laid on him so unmercifully with their gauntlets that they at last
  settled him, all stunned and battered, bruised and mortified, with one of
  his eyes black and blue, eight ribs bruised, his brisket sunk in, his
  omoplates in four quarters, his under jawbone in three pieces; and all this
  in jest, and no harm done.  God wot how the levite belaboured him, hiding
  within the long sleeve of his canonical shirt his huge steel gauntlet lined
  with ermine; for he was a strong-built ball, and an old dog at fisticuffs.
  The catchpole, all of a bloody tiger-like stripe, with much ado crawled
  home to L'Isle Bouchart, well pleased and edified, however, with Basche's
  kind reception; and, with the help of the good surgeons of the place, lived
  as long as you would have him.  From that time to this, not a word of the
  business; the memory of it was lost with the sound of the bells that rung
  with joy at his funeral.
  
  
  
  
  How, like Master Francis Villon, the Lord of Basche commended his servants.
  
  The catchpole being packed off on blind Sorrel--so he called his one-eyed
  mare--Basche sent for his lady, her women, and all his servants, into the
  arbour of his garden; had wine brought, attended with good store of
  pasties, hams, fruit, and other table-ammunition, for a nunchion; drank
  with them joyfully, and then told them this story:
  
  Master Francis Villon in his old age retired to St. Maxent in Poitou, under
  the patronage of a good honest abbot of the place.  There to make sport for
  the mob, he undertook to get the Passion acted, after the way, and in the
  dialect of the country.  The parts being distributed, the play having been
  rehearsed, and the stage prepared, he told the mayor and aldermen that the
  mystery might be ready after Niort fair, and that there only wanted
  properties and necessaries, but chiefly clothes fit for the parts; so the
  mayor and his brethren took care to get them.
  
  Villon, to dress an old clownish father greybeard, who was to represent God
  the father, begged of Friar Stephen Tickletoby, sacristan to the Franciscan
  friars of the place, to lend him a cope and a stole.  Tickletoby refused
  him, alleging that by their provincial statutes it was rigorously forbidden
  to give or lend anything to players.  Villon replied that the statute
  reached no farther than farces, drolls, antics, loose and dissolute games,
  and that he asked no more than what he had seen allowed at Brussels and
  other places.  Tickletoby notwithstanding peremptorily bid him provide
  himself elsewhere if he would, and not to hope for anything out of his
  monastical wardrobe.  Villon gave an account of this to the players, as of
  a most abominable action; adding, that God would shortly revenge himself,
  and make an example of Tickletoby.
  
  The Saturday following he had notice given him that Tickletoby, upon the
  filly of the convent--so they call a young mare that was never leaped yet
  --was gone a-mumping to St. Ligarius, and would be back about two in the
  afternoon.  Knowing this, he made a cavalcade of his devils of the Passion
  through the town.  They were all rigged with wolves', calves', and rams'
  skins, laced and trimmed with sheep's heads, bull's feathers, and large
  kitchen tenterhooks, girt with broad leathern girdles, whereat hanged
  dangling huge cow-bells and horse-bells, which made a horrid din.  Some
  held in their claws black sticks full of squibs and crackers; others had
  long lighted pieces of wood, upon which, at the corner of every street,
  they flung whole handfuls of rosin-dust, that made a terrible fire and
  smoke.  Having thus led them about, to the great diversion of the mob and
  the dreadful fear of little children, he finally carried them to an
  entertainment at a summer-house without the gate that leads to St.
  Ligarius.
  
  As they came near to the place, he espied Tickletoby afar off, coming home
  from mumping, and told them in macaronic verse:
  
    Hic est de patria, natus, de gente belistra,
    Qui solet antiqua bribas portare bisacco. (Motteux reads:
  
    'Hic est mumpator natus de gente Cucowli,
    Qui solet antiquo Scrappas portare bisacco.')
  
  A plague on his friarship, said the devils then; the lousy beggar would not
  lend a poor cope to the fatherly father; let us fright him.  Well said,
  cried Villon; but let us hide ourselves till he comes by, and then charge
  him home briskly with your squibs and burning sticks.  Tickletoby being
  come to the place, they all rushed on a sudden into the road to meet him,
  and in a frightful manner threw fire from all sides upon him and his filly
  foal, ringing and tingling their bells, and howling like so many real
  devils, Hho, hho, hho, hho, brrou, rrou, rrourrs, rrrourrs, hoo, hou, hou
  hho, hho, hhoi.  Friar Stephen, don't we play the devils rarely?  The filly
  was soon scared out of her seven senses, and began to start, to funk it, to
  squirt it, to trot it, to fart it, to bound it, to gallop it, to kick it,
  to spurn it, to calcitrate it, to wince it, to frisk it, to leap it, to
  curvet it, with double jerks, and bum-motions; insomuch that she threw down
  Tickletoby, though he held fast by the tree of the pack-saddle with might
  and main.  Now his straps and stirrups were of cord; and on the right side
  his sandals were so entangled and twisted that he could not for the heart's
  blood of him get out his foot.  Thus he was dragged about by the filly
  through the road, scratching his bare breech all the way; she still
  multiplying her kicks against him, and straying for fear over hedge and
  ditch, insomuch that she trepanned his thick skull so that his cockle
  brains were dashed out near the Osanna or high-cross.  Then his arms fell
  to pieces, one this way and the other that way; and even so were his legs
  served at the same time.  Then she made a bloody havoc with his puddings;
  and being got to the convent, brought back only his right foot and twisted
  sandal, leaving them to guess what was become of the rest.
  
  Villon, seeing that things had succeeded as he intended, said to his
  devils, You will act rarely, gentlemen devils, you will act rarely; I dare
  engage you'll top your parts.  I defy the devils of Saumur, Douay,
  Montmorillon, Langez, St. Espain, Angers; nay, by gad, even those of
  Poictiers, for all their bragging and vapouring, to match you.
  
  Thus, friends, said Basche, I foresee that hereafter you will act rarely
  this tragical farce, since the very first time you have so skilfully
  hampered, bethwacked, belammed, and bebumped the catchpole.  From this day
  I double your wages.  As for you, my dear, said he to his lady, make your
  gratifications as you please; you are my treasurer, you know.  For my part,
  first and foremost, I drink to you all.  Come on, box it about; it is good
  and cool.  In the second place, you, Mr. Steward, take this silver basin; I
  give it you freely.  Then you, my gentlemen of the horse, take these two
  silver-gilt cups, and let not the pages be horsewhipped these three months.
  My dear, let them have my best white plumes of feathers, with the gold
  buckles to them.  Sir Oudart, this silver flagon falls to your share; this
  other I give to the cooks.  To the valets de chambre I give this silver
  basket; to the grooms, this silver-gilt boat; to the porter, these two
  plates; to the hostlers, these ten porringers.  Trudon, take you these
  silver spoons and this sugar-box.  You, footman, take this large salt.
  Serve me well, and I will remember you.  For, on the word of a gentleman, I
  had rather bear in war one hundred blows on my helmet in the service of my
  country than be once cited by these knavish catchpoles merely to humour
  this same gorbellied prior.
  
  
  
  
  A further account of catchpoles who were drubbed at Basche's house.
  
  Four days after another young, long-shanked, raw-boned catchpole coming to
  serve Basche with a writ at the fat prior's request, was no sooner at the
  gate but the porter smelt him out and rung the bell; at whose second pull
  all the family understood the mystery.  Loire was kneading his dough; his
  wife was sifting meal; Oudart was toping in his office; the gentlemen were
  playing at tennis; the Lord Basche at in-and-out with my lady; the
  waiting-men and gentle-women at push-pin; the officers at lanterloo, and the
  pages at hot-cockles, giving one another smart bangs.  They were all
  immediately informed that a catchpole was housed.
  
  Upon this Oudart put on his sacerdotal, and Loire and his wife their
  nuptial badges; Trudon piped it, and then tabored it like mad; all made
  haste to get ready, not forgetting the gauntlets.  Basche went into the
  outward yard; there the catchpole meeting him fell on his marrow-bones,
  begged of him not to take it ill if he served him with a writ at the suit
  of the fat prior; and in a pathetic speech let him know that he was a
  public person, a servant to the monking tribe, apparitor to the abbatial
  mitre, ready to do as much for him, nay, for the least of his servants,
  whensoever he would employ and use him.
  
  Nay, truly, said the lord, you shall not serve your writ till you have
  tasted some of my good Quinquenays wine, and been a witness to a wedding
  which we are to have this very minute.  Let him drink and refresh himself,
  added he, turning towards the levitical butler, and then bring him into the
  hall.  After which, Catchpole, well stuffed and moistened, came with Oudart
  to the place where all the actors in the farce stood ready to begin.  The
  sight of their game set them a-laughing, and the messenger of mischief
  grinned also for company's sake.  Then the mysterious words were muttered
  to and by the couple, their hands joined, the bride bussed, and all
  besprinkled with holy water.  While they were bringing wine and kickshaws,
  thumps began to trot about by dozens.  The catchpole gave the levite
  several blows.  Oudart, who had his gauntlet hid under his canonical shirt,
  draws it on like a mitten, and then, with his clenched fist, souse he fell
  on the catchpole and mauled him like a devil; the junior gauntlets dropped
  on him likewise like so many battering rams.  Remember the wedding by this,
  by that, by these blows, said they.  In short, they stroked him so to the
  purpose that he pissed blood out at mouth, nose, ears, and eyes, and was
  bruised, thwacked, battered, bebumped, and crippled at the back, neck,
  breast, arms, and so forth.  Never did the bachelors at Avignon in carnival
  time play more melodiously at raphe than was then played on the catchpole's
  microcosm.  At last down he fell.
  
  They threw a great deal of wine on his snout, tied round the sleeve of his
  doublet a fine yellow and green favour, and got him upon his snotty beast,
  and God knows how he got to L'Isle Bouchart; where I cannot truly tell you
  whether he was dressed and looked after or no, both by his spouse and the
  able doctors of the country; for the thing never came to my ears.
  
  The next day they had a third part to the same tune, because it did not
  appear by the lean catchpole's bag that he had served his writ.  So the fat
  prior sent a new catchpole, at the head of a brace of bums for his garde du
  corps, to summon my lord.  The porter ringing the bell, the whole family
  was overjoyed, knowing that it was another rogue.  Basche was at dinner
  with his lady and the gentlemen; so he sent for the catchpole, made him sit
  by him, and the bums by the women, and made them eat till their bellies
  cracked with their breeches unbuttoned.  The fruit being served, the
  catchpole arose from table, and before the bums cited Basche.  Basche
  kindly asked him for a copy of the warrant, which the other had got ready;
  he then takes witness and a copy of the summons.  To the catchpole and his
  bums he ordered four ducats for civility money.  In the meantime all were
  withdrawn for the farce.  So Trudon gave the alarm with his tabor.  Basche
  desired the catchpole to stay and see one of his servants married, and
  witness the contract of marriage, paying him his fee.  The catchpole
  slapdash was ready, took out his inkhorn, got paper immediately, and his
  bums by him.
  
  Then Loire came into the hall at one door, and his wife with the
  gentlewomen at another, in nuptial accoutrements.  Oudart, in
  pontificalibus, takes them both by their hands, asketh them their will,
  giveth them the matrimonial blessing, and was very liberal of holy water.
  The contract written, signed, and registered, on one side was brought wine
  and comfits; on the other, white and orange-tawny-coloured favours were
  distributed; on another, gauntlets privately handed about.
  
  
  
  
  How the ancient custom at nuptials is renewed by the catchpole.
  
  The catchpole, having made shift to get down a swingeing sneaker of Breton
  wine, said to Basche, Pray, sir, what do you mean?  You do not give one
  another the memento of the wedding.  By St. Joseph's wooden shoe, all good
  customs are forgot.  We find the form, but the hare is scampered; and the
  nest, but the birds are flown.  There are no true friends nowadays.  You
  see how, in several churches, the ancient laudable custom of tippling on
  account of the blessed saints O O, at Christmas, is come to nothing.  The
  world is in its dotage, and doomsday is certainly coming all so fast.  Now
  come on; the wedding, the wedding, the wedding; remember it by this.  This
  he said, striking Basche and his lady; then her women and the levite.  Then
  the tabor beat a point of war, and the gauntlets began to do their duty;
  insomuch that the catchpole had his crown cracked in no less than nine
  places.  One of the bums had his right arm put out of joint, and the other
  his upper jaw-bone or mandibule dislocated so that it hid half his chin,
  with a denudation of the uvula, and sad loss of the molar, masticatory, and
  canine teeth.  Then the tabor beat a retreat; the gauntlets were carefully
  hid in a trice, and sweetmeats afresh distributed to renew the mirth of the
  company.  So they all drank to one another, and especially to the catchpole
  and his bums.  But Oudart cursed and damned the wedding to the pit of hell,
  complaining that one of the bums had utterly disincornifistibulated his
  nether shoulder-blade.  Nevertheless, he scorned to be thought a flincher,
  and made shift to tope to him on the square.
  
  The jawless bum shrugged up his shoulders, joined his hands, and by signs
  begged his pardon; for speak he could not.  The sham bridegroom made his
  moan, that the crippled bum had struck him such a horrid thump with his
  shoulder-of-mutton fist on the nether elbow that he was grown quite
  esperruquanchuzelubelouzerireliced down to his very heel, to the no small
  loss of mistress bride.
  
  But what harm had poor I done? cried Trudon, hiding his left eye with his
  kerchief, and showing his tabor cracked on one side; they were not
  satisfied with thus poaching, black and bluing, and
  morrambouzevezengouzequoquemorgasacbaquevezinemaffreliding my poor eyes,
  but they have also broke my harmless drum.  Drums indeed are commonly
  beaten at weddings, and it is fit they should; but drummers are well
  entertained and never beaten.  Now let Beelzebub e'en take the drum, to
  make his devilship a nightcap.  Brother, said the lame catchpole, never
  fret thyself; I will make thee a present of a fine, large, old patent,
  which I have here in my bag, to patch up thy drum, and for Madame St.
  Ann's sake I pray thee forgive us.  By Our Lady of Riviere, the blessed
  dame, I meant no more harm than the child unborn.  One of the equerries,
  who, hopping and halting like a mumping cripple, mimicked the good limping
  Lord de la Roche Posay, directed his discourse to the bum with the pouting
  jaw, and told him:  What, Mr. Manhound, was it not enough thus to have
  morcrocastebezasteverestegrigeligoscopapopondrillated us all in our upper
  members with your botched mittens, but you must also apply such
  morderegripippiatabirofreluchamburelurecaquelurintimpaniments on our
  shinbones with the hard tops and extremities of your cobbled shoes.  Do
  you call this children's play?  By the mass, 'tis no jest.  The bum,
  wringing his hands, seemed to beg his pardon, muttering with his tongue,
  Mon, mon, mon, vrelon, von, von, like a dumb man.  The bride crying
  laughed, and laughing cried, because the catchpole was not satisfied with
  drubbing her without choice or distinction of members, but had also rudely
  roused and toused her, pulled off her topping, and not having the fear of
  her husband before his eyes, treacherously
  trepignemanpenillorifrizonoufresterfumbled tumbled and squeezed her lower
  parts.  The devil go with it, said Basche; there was much need indeed that
  this same Master King (this was the catchpole's name) should thus break my
  wife's back; however, I forgive him now; these are little nuptial
  caresses. But this I plainly perceive, that he cited me like an angel, and
  drubbed me like a devil.  He had something in him of Friar Thumpwell.
  Come, for all this, I must drink to him, and to you likewise, his trusty
  esquires.  But, said his lady, why hath he been so very liberal of his
  manual kindness to me, without the least provocation?  I assure you, I by
  no means like it; but this I dare say for him, that he hath the hardest
  knuckles that ever I felt on my shoulders.  The steward held his left arm
  in a scarf, as if it had been rent and torn in twain.  I think it was the
  devil, said he, that moved me to assist at these nuptials; shame on ill
  luck; I must needs be meddling with a pox, and now see what I have got by
  the bargain, both my arms are wretchedly engoulevezinemassed and bruised.
  Do you call this a wedding?  By St. Bridget's tooth, I had rather be at
  that of a Tom T--d-man.  This is, o' my word, even just such another feast
  as was that of the Lapithae, described by the philosopher of Samosata.
  One of the bums had lost his tongue.  The other two, tho' they had more
  need to complain, made their excuse as well as they could, protesting that
  they had no ill design in this dumbfounding; begging that, for goodness
  sake, they would forgive them; and so, tho' they could hardly budge a
  foot, or wag along, away they crawled.  About a mile from Basche's seat,
  the catchpole found himself somewhat out of sorts.  The bums got to L'Isle
  Bouchart, publicly saying that since they were born they had never seen an
  honester gentleman than the Lord of Basche, or civiller people than his,
  and that they had never been at the like wedding (which I verily believe);
  but that it was their own faults if they had been tickled off, and tossed
  about from post to pillar, since themselves had began the beating.  So
  they lived I cannot exactly tell you how many days after this.  But from
  that time to this it was held for a certain truth that Basche's money was
  more pestilential, mortal, and pernicious to the catchpoles and bums than
  were formerly the aurum Tholosanum and the Sejan horse to those that
  possessed them.  Ever since this he lived quietly, and Basche's wedding
  grew into a common proverb.
  
  
  
  
  How Friar John made trial of the nature of the catchpoles.
  
  This story would seem pleasant enough, said Pantagruel, were we not to have
  always the fear of God before our eyes.  It had been better, said
  Epistemon, if those gauntlets had fallen upon the fat prior.  Since he took
  a pleasure in spending his money partly to vex Basche, partly to see those
  catchpoles banged, good lusty thumps would have done well on his shaved
  crown, considering the horrid concussions nowadays among those puny judges.
  What harm had done those poor devils the catchpoles?  This puts me in mind,
  said Pantagruel, of an ancient Roman named L. Neratius.  He was of noble
  blood, and for some time was rich; but had this tyrannical inclination,
  that whenever he went out of doors he caused his servants to fill their
  pockets with gold and silver, and meeting in the street your spruce
  gallants and better sort of beaux, without the least provocation, for his
  fancy, he used to strike them hard on the face with his fist; and
  immediately after that, to appease them and hinder them from complaining to
  the magistrates, he would give them as much money as satisfied them
  according to the law of the twelve tables.  Thus he used to spend his
  revenue, beating people for the price of his money.  By St. Bennet's sacred
  boot, quoth Friar John, I will know the truth of it presently.
  
  This said, he went on shore, put his hand in his fob, and took out twenty
  ducats; then said with a loud voice, in the hearing of a shoal of the
  nation of catchpoles, Who will earn twenty ducats for being beaten like the
  devil?  Io, Io, Io, said they all; you will cripple us for ever, sir, that
  is most certain; but the money is tempting.  With this they were all
  thronging who should be first to be thus preciously beaten.  Friar John
  singled him out of the whole knot of these rogues in grain, a red-snouted
  catchpole, who upon his right thumb wore a thick broad silver hoop, wherein
  was set a good large toadstone.  He had no sooner picked him out from the
  rest, but I perceived that they all muttered and grumbled; and I heard a
  young thin-jawed catchpole, a notable scholar, a pretty fellow at his pen,
  and, according to public report, much cried up for his honesty at Doctors'
  Commons, making his complaint and muttering because this same crimson phiz
  carried away all the practice, and that if there were but a score and a
  half of bastinadoes to be got, he would certainly run away with eight and
  twenty of them.  But all this was looked upon to be nothing but mere envy.
  
  Friar John so unmercifully thrashed, thumped, and belaboured Red-snout,
  back and belly, sides, legs, and arms, head, feet, and so forth, with the
  home and frequently repeated application of one of the best members of a
  faggot, that I took him to be a dead man; then he gave him the twenty
  ducats, which made the dog get on his legs, pleased like a little king or
  two.  The rest were saying to Friar John, Sir, sir, brother devil, if it
  please you to do us the favour to beat some of us for less money, we are
  all at your devilship's command, bags, papers, pens, and all.  Red-snout
  cried out against them, saying, with a loud voice, Body of me, you little
  prigs, will you offer to take the bread out of my mouth? will you take my
  bargain over my head? would you draw and inveigle from me my clients and
  customers?  Take notice, I summon you before the official this day
  sevennight; I will law and claw you like any old devil of Vauverd, that I
  will--Then turning himself towards Friar John, with a smiling and joyful
  look, he said to him, Reverend father in the devil, if you have found me a
  good hide, and have a mind to divert yourself once more by beating your
  humble servant, I will bate you half in half this time rather than lose
  your custom; do not spare me, I beseech you; I am all, and more than all,
  yours, good Mr. Devil; head, lungs, tripes, guts, and garbage; and that at
  a pennyworth, I'll assure you.  Friar John never heeded his proffers, but
  even left them.  The other catchpoles were making addresses to Panurge,
  Epistemon, Gymnast, and others, entreating them charitably to bestow upon
  their carcasses a small beating, for otherwise they were in danger of
  keeping a long fast; but none of them had a stomach to it.  Some time
  after, seeking fresh water for the ship's company, we met a couple of old
  female catchpoles of the place, miserably howling and weeping in concert.
  Pantagruel had kept on board, and already had caused a retreat to be
  sounded.  Thinking that they might be related to the catchpole that was
  bastinadoed, we asked them the occasion of their grief.  They replied that
  they had too much cause to weep; for that very hour, from an exalted triple
  tree, two of the honestest gentlemen in Catchpole-land had been made to cut
  a caper on nothing.  Cut a caper on nothing, said Gymnast; my pages use to
  cut capers on the ground; to cut a caper on nothing should be hanging and
  choking, or I am out.  Ay, ay, said Friar John; you speak of it like St.
  John de la Palisse.
  
  We asked them why they treated these worthy persons with such a choking
  hempen salad.  They told us they had only borrowed, alias stolen, the tools
  of the mass and hid them under the handle of the parish.  This is a very
  allegorical way of speaking, said Epistemon.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel came to the islands of Tohu and Bohu; and of the strange
  death of Wide-nostrils, the swallower of windmills.
  
  That day Pantagruel came to the two islands of Tohu and Bohu, where the
  devil a bit we could find anything to fry with.  For one Wide-nostrils,
  a huge giant, had swallowed every individual pan, skillet, kettle,
  frying-pan, dripping-pan, and brass and iron pot in the land, for want of
  windmills, which were his daily food.  Whence it happened that somewhat
  before day, about the hour of his digestion, the greedy churl was taken
  very ill with a kind of a surfeit, or crudity of stomach, occasioned, as
  the physicians said, by the weakness of the concocting faculty of his
  stomach, naturally disposed to digest whole windmills at a gust, yet unable
  to consume perfectly the pans and skillets; though it had indeed pretty
  well digested the kettles and pots, as they said they knew by the
  hypostases and eneoremes of four tubs of second-hand drink which he had
  evacuated at two different times that morning.  They made use of divers
  remedies, according to art, to give him ease; but all would not do; the
  distemper prevailed over the remedies; insomuch that the famous
  Wide-nostrils died that morning of so strange a death that I think you ought
  no longer to wonder at that of the poet Aeschylus.  It had been foretold him
  by the soothsayers that he would die on a certain day by the ruin of
  something that should fall on him.  The fatal day being come in its turn, he
  removed himself out of town, far from all houses, trees, (rocks,) or any
  other things that can fall and endanger by their ruin; and strayed in a
  large field, trusting himself to the open sky; there very secure, as he
  thought, unless indeed the sky should happen to fall, which he held to be
  impossible.  Yet they say that the larks are much afraid of it; for if it
  should fall, they must all be taken.
  
  The Celts that once lived near the Rhine--they are our noble valiant
  French--in ancient times were also afraid of the sky's falling; for being
  asked by Alexander the Great what they feared most in this world, hoping
  well they would say that they feared none but him, considering his great
  achievements, they made answer that they feared nothing but the sky's
  falling; however, not refusing to enter into a confederacy with so brave a
  king, if you believe Strabo, lib. 7, and Arrian, lib. I.
  
  Plutarch also, in his book of the face that appears on the body of the
  moon, speaks of one Phenaces, who very much feared the moon should fall on
  the earth, and pitied those that live under that planet, as the Aethiopians
  and Taprobanians, if so heavy a mass ever happened to fall on them, and
  would have feared the like of heaven and earth had they not been duly
  propped up and borne by the Atlantic pillars, as the ancients believed,
  according to Aristotle's testimony, lib. 5, Metaphys.  Notwithstanding all
  this, poor Aeschylus was killed by the fall of the shell of a tortoise,
  which falling from betwixt the claws of an eagle high in the air, just on
  his head, dashed out his brains.
  
  Neither ought you to wonder at the death of another poet, I mean old jolly
  Anacreon, who was choked with a grape-stone.  Nor at that of Fabius the
  Roman praetor, who was choked with a single goat's hair as he was supping
  up a porringer of milk.  Nor at the death of that bashful fool, who by
  holding in his wind, and for want of letting out a bum-gunshot, died
  suddenly in the presence of the Emperor Claudius.  Nor at that of the
  Italian buried on the Via Flaminia at Rome, who in his epitaph complains
  that the bite of a she-puss on his little finger was the cause of his
  death.  Nor of that of Q. Lecanius Bassus, who died suddenly of so small a
  prick with a needle on his left thumb that it could hardly be discerned.
  Nor of Quenelault, a Norman physician, who died suddenly at Montpellier,
  merely for having sideways took a worm out of his hand with a penknife.
  Nor of Philomenes, whose servant having got him some new figs for the first
  course of his dinner, whilst he went to fetch wine, a straggling well-hung
  ass got into the house, and seeing the figs on the table, without further
  invitation soberly fell to.  Philomenes coming into the room and nicely
  observing with what gravity the ass ate its dinner, said to the man, who
  was come back, Since thou hast set figs here for this reverend guest of
  ours to eat, methinks it is but reason thou also give him some of this wine
  to drink.  He had no sooner said this, but he was so excessively pleased,
  and fell into so exorbitant a fit of laughter, that the use of his spleen
  took that of his breath utterly away, and he immediately died.  Nor of
  Spurius Saufeius, who died supping up a soft-boiled egg as he came out of a
  bath.  Nor of him who, as Boccaccio tells us, died suddenly by picking his
  grinders with a sage-stalk.  Nor of Phillipot Placut, who being brisk and
  hale, fell dead as he was paying an old debt; which causes, perhaps, many
  not to pay theirs, for fear of the like accident.  Nor of the painter
  Zeuxis, who killed himself with laughing at the sight of the antique
  jobbernowl of an old hag drawn by him.  Nor, in short, of a thousand more
  of which authors write, as Varrius, Pliny, Valerius, J. Baptista Fulgosus,
  and Bacabery the elder.  In short, Gaffer Wide-nostrils choked himself with
  eating a huge lump of fresh butter at the mouth of a hot oven by the advice
  of physicians.
  
  They likewise told us there that the King of Cullan in Bohu had routed the
  grandees of King Mecloth, and made sad work with the fortresses of Belima.
  
  After this, we sailed by the islands of Nargues and Zargues; also by the
  islands of Teleniabin and Geleniabin, very fine and fruitful in ingredients
  for clysters; and then by the islands of Enig and Evig, on whose account
  formerly the Landgrave of Hesse was swinged off with a vengeance.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel met with a great storm at sea.
  
  The next day we espied nine sail that came spooning before the wind; they
  were full of Dominicans, Jesuits, Capuchins, Hermits, Austins, Bernardins,
  Egnatins, Celestins, Theatins, Amadeans, Cordeliers, Carmelites, Minims,
  and the devil and all of other holy monks and friars, who were going to the
  Council of Chesil, to sift and garble some new articles of faith against
  the new heretics.  Panurge was overjoyed to see them, being most certain of
  good luck for that day and a long train of others.  So having courteously
  saluted the blessed fathers, and recommended the salvation of his precious
  soul to their devout prayers and private ejaculations, he caused
  seventy-eight dozen of Westphalia hams, units of pots of caviare, tens of
  Bolonia sausages, hundreds of botargoes, and thousands of fine angels, for
  the souls of the dead, to be thrown on board their ships.  Pantagruel seemed
  metagrabolized, dozing, out of sorts, and as melancholic as a cat.  Friar
  John, who soon perceived it, was inquiring of him whence should come this
  unusual sadness; when the master, whose watch it was, observing the
  fluttering of the ancient above the poop, and seeing that it began to
  overcast, judged that we should have wind; therefore he bid the boatswain
  call all hands upon deck, officers, sailors, foremast-men, swabbers, and
  cabin-boys, and even the passengers; made them first settle their topsails,
  take in their spritsail; then he cried, In with your topsails, lower the
  foresail, tallow under parrels, braid up close all them sails, strike your
  topmasts to the cap, make all sure with your sheeps-feet, lash your guns
  fast.  All this was nimbly done.  Immediately it blowed a storm; the sea
  began to roar and swell mountain-high; the rut of the sea was great, the
  waves breaking upon our ship's quarter; the north-west wind blustered and
  overblowed; boisterous gusts, dreadful clashing, and deadly scuds of wind
  whistled through our yards and made our shrouds rattle again.  The thunder
  grumbled so horridly that you would have thought heaven had been tumbling
  about our ears; at the same time it lightened, rained, hailed; the sky lost
  its transparent hue, grew dusky, thick, and gloomy, so that we had no other
  light than that of the flashes of lightning and rending of the clouds.  The
  hurricanes, flaws, and sudden whirlwinds began to make a flame about us by
  the lightnings, fiery vapours, and other aerial ejaculations.  Oh, how our
  looks were full of amazement and trouble, while the saucy winds did rudely
  lift up above us the mountainous waves of the main!  Believe me, it seemed
  to us a lively image of the chaos, where fire, air, sea, land, and all the
  elements were in a refractory confusion.  Poor Panurge having with the full
  contents of the inside of his doublet plentifully fed the fish, greedy
  enough of such odious fare, sat on the deck all in a heap, with his nose and
  arse together, most sadly cast down, moping and half dead; invoked and
  called to his assistance all the blessed he- and she-saints he could muster
  up; swore and vowed to confess in time and place convenient, and then bawled
  out frightfully, Steward, maitre d'hotel, see ho! my friend, my father, my
  uncle, prithee let us have a piece of powdered beef or pork; we shall drink
  but too much anon, for aught I see.  Eat little and drink the more will
  hereafter be my motto, I fear.  Would to our dear Lord, and to our blessed,
  worthy, and sacred Lady, I were now, I say, this very minute of an hour,
  well on shore, on terra firma, hale and easy.  O twice and thrice happy
  those that plant cabbages!  O destinies, why did you not spin me for a
  cabbage-planter?  O how few are there to whom Jupiter hath been so
  favourable as to predestinate them to plant cabbages!  They have always one
  foot on the ground, and the other not far from it.  Dispute who will of
  felicity and summum bonum, for my part whosoever plants cabbages is now, by
  my decree, proclaimed most happy; for as good a reason as the philosopher
  Pyrrho, being in the same danger, and seeing a hog near the shore eating
  some scattered oats, declared it happy in two respects; first, because it
  had plenty of oats, and besides that, was on shore.  Ha, for a divine and
  princely habitation, commend me to the cows' floor.
  
  Murder!  This wave will sweep us away, blessed Saviour!  O my friends! a
  little vinegar.  I sweat again with mere agony.  Alas! the mizen-sail's
  split, the gallery's washed away, the masts are sprung, the
  maintop-masthead dives into the sea; the keel is up to the sun; our shrouds
  are almost all broke, and blown away.  Alas! alas! where is our main course?
  Al is verlooren, by Godt! our topmast is run adrift.  Alas! who shall have
  this wreck?  Friend, lend me here behind you one of these whales.  Your
  lantern is fallen, my lads.  Alas! do not let go the main-tack nor the
  bowline.  I hear the block crack; is it broke?  For the Lord's sake, let us
  have the hull, and let all the rigging be damned.  Be, be, be, bous, bous,
  bous.  Look to the needle of your compass, I beseech you, good Sir
  Astrophil, and tell us, if you can, whence comes this storm.  My heart's
  sunk down below my midriff.  By my troth, I am in a sad fright, bou, bou,
  bou, bous, bous, I am lost for ever.  I conskite myself for mere madness and
  fear.  Bou, bou, bou, bou, Otto to to to to ti.  Bou, bou, bou, ou, ou, ou,
  bou, bou, bous.  I sink, I'm drowned, I'm gone, good people, I'm drowned.
  
  
  
  
  What countenances Panurge and Friar John kept during the storm.
  
  Pantagruel, having first implored the help of the great and Almighty
  Deliverer, and prayed publicly with fervent devotion, by the pilot's advice
  held tightly the mast of the ship.  Friar John had stripped himself to his
  waistcoat, to help the seamen.  Epistemon, Ponocrates, and the rest did as
  much.  Panurge alone sat on his breech upon deck, weeping and howling.
  Friar John espied him going on the quarter-deck, and said to him, Odzoons!
  Panurge the calf, Panurge the whiner, Panurge the brayer, would it not
  become thee much better to lend us here a helping hand than to lie lowing
  like a cow, as thou dost, sitting on thy stones like a bald-breeched
  baboon?  Be, be, be, bous, bous, bous, returned Panurge; Friar John, my
  friend, my good father, I am drowning, my dear friend!  I drown!  I am a
  dead man, my dear father in God; I am a dead man, my friend; your cutting
  hanger cannot save me from this; alas! alas! we are above ela.  Above the
  pitch, out of tune, and off the hinges.  Be, be, be, bou, bous.  Alas! we
  are now above g sol re ut.  I sink, I sink, ha, my father, my uncle, my
  all.  The water is got into my shoes by the collar; bous, bous, bous,
  paish, hu, hu, hu, he, he, he, ha, ha, I drown.  Alas! alas!  Hu, hu, hu,
  hu, hu, hu, hu, be, be, bous, bous, bobous, bobous, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho,
  alas! alas!  Now I am like your tumblers, my feet stand higher than my
  head.  Would to heaven I were now with those good holy fathers bound for
  the council whom we met this morning, so godly, so fat, so merry, so plump
  and comely.  Holos, bolos, holas, holas, alas!  This devilish wave (mea
  culpa Deus), I mean this wave of God, will sink our vessel.  Alas!  Friar
  John, my father, my friend, confession.  Here I am down on my knees;
  confiteor; your holy blessing.  Come hither and be damned, thou pitiful
  devil, and help us, said Friar John (who fell a-swearing and cursing like a
  tinker), in the name of thirty legions of black devils, come; will you
  come?  Do not let us swear at this time, said Panurge; holy father, my
  friend, do not swear, I beseech you; to-morrow as much as you please.
  Holos, holos, alas! our ship leaks.  I drown, alas, alas!  I will give
  eighteen hundred thousand crowns to anyone that will set me on shore, all
  berayed and bedaubed as I am now.  If ever there was a man in my country in
  the like pickle.  Confiteor, alas! a word or two of testament or codicil at
  least.  A thousand devils seize the cuckoldy cow-hearted mongrel, cried
  Friar John.  Ods-belly, art thou talking here of making thy will now we are
  in danger, and it behoveth us to bestir our stumps lustily, or never?  Wilt
  thou come, ho devil?  Midshipman, my friend; O the rare lieutenant; here
  Gymnast, here on the poop.  We are, by the mass, all beshit now; our light
  is out.  This is hastening to the devil as fast as it can.  Alas, bou, bou,
  bou, bou, bou, alas, alas, alas, alas! said Panurge; was it here we were
  born to perish?  Oh! ho! good people, I drown, I die.  Consummatum est.  I
  am sped--Magna, gna, gna, said Friar John.  Fie upon him, how ugly the
  shitten howler looks.  Boy, younker, see hoyh.  Mind the pumps or the devil
  choke thee.  Hast thou hurt thyself?  Zoons, here fasten it to one of these
  blocks.  On this side, in the devil's name, hay--so, my boy.  Ah, Friar
  John, said Panurge, good ghostly father, dear friend, don't let us swear,
  you sin.  Oh, ho, oh, ho, be be be bous, bous, bhous, I sink, I die, my
  friends.  I die in charity with all the world.  Farewell, in manus.  Bohus
  bohous, bhousowauswaus.  St. Michael of Aure!  St. Nicholas! now, now or
  never, I here make you a solemn vow, and to our Saviour, that if you stand
  by me this time, I mean if you set me ashore out of this danger, I will
  build you a fine large little chapel or two, between Quande and Montsoreau,
  where neither cow nor calf shall feed.  Oh ho, oh ho.  Above eighteen
  pailfuls or two of it are got down my gullet; bous, bhous, bhous, bhous,
  how damned bitter and salt it is!  By the virtue, said Friar John, of the
  blood, the flesh, the belly, the head, if I hear thee again howling, thou
  cuckoldy cur, I'll maul thee worse than any sea-wolf.  Ods-fish, why don't
  we take him up by the lugs and throw him overboard to the bottom of the
  sea?  Hear, sailor; ho, honest fellow.  Thus, thus, my friend, hold fast
  above.  In truth, here is a sad lightning and thundering; I think that all
  the devils are got loose; it is holiday with them; or else Madame
  Proserpine is in child's labour:  all the devils dance a morrice.
  
  
  
  
  How the pilots were forsaking their ships in the greatest stress of
  weather.
  
  
  Oh, said Panurge, you sin, Friar John, my former crony! former, I say, for
  at this time I am no more, you are no more.  It goes against my heart to
  tell it you; for I believe this swearing doth your spleen a great deal of
  good; as it is a great ease to a wood-cleaver to cry hem at every blow, and
  as one who plays at ninepins is wonderfully helped if, when he hath not
  thrown his bowl right, and is like to make a bad cast, some ingenious
  stander-by leans and screws his body halfway about on that side which the
  bowl should have took to hit the pins.  Nevertheless, you offend, my sweet
  friend.  But what do you think of eating some kind of cabirotadoes?
  Wouldn't this secure us from this storm?  I have read that the ministers of
  the gods Cabiri, so much celebrated by Orpheus, Apollonius, Pherecydes,
  Strabo, Pausanias, and Herodotus were always secure in time of storm.  He
  dotes, he raves, the poor devil!  A thousand, a million, nay, a hundred
  million of devils seize the hornified doddipole.  Lend's a hand here, hoh,
  tiger, wouldst thou?  Here, on the starboard side.  Ods-me, thou buffalo's
  head stuffed with relics, what ape's paternoster art thou muttering and
  chattering here between thy teeth?  That devil of a sea-calf is the cause
  of all this storm, and is the only man who doth not lend a helping hand.
  By G--, if I come near thee, I'll fetch thee out by the head and ears with
  a vengeance, and chastise thee like any tempestative devil.  Here, mate, my
  lad, hold fast, till I have made a double knot.  O brave boy!  Would to
  heaven thou wert abbot of Talemouze, and that he that is were guardian of
  Croullay.  Hold, brother Ponocrates, you will hurt yourself, man.
  Epistemon, prithee stand off out of the hatchway.  Methinks I saw the
  thunder fall there but just now.  Con the ship, so ho--Mind your steerage.
  Well said, thus, thus, steady, keep her thus, get the longboat clear
  --steady.  Ods-fish, the beak-head is staved to pieces.  Grumble, devils,
  fart, belch, shite, a t--d o' the wave.  If this be weather, the devil's a
  ram.  Nay, by G--, a little more would have washed me clear away into the
  current.  I think all the legions of devils hold here their provincial
  chapter, or are polling, canvassing, and wrangling for the election of a
  new rector.  Starboard; well said.  Take heed; have a care of your noddle,
  lad, in the devil's name.  So ho, starboard, starboard.  Be, be, be, bous,
  bous, bous, cried Panurge; bous, bous, be, be, be, bous, bous, I am lost.
  I see neither heaven nor earth; of the four elements we have here only fire
  and water left.  Bou, bou, bou, bous, bous, bous.  Would it were the
  pleasure of the worthy divine bounty that I were at this present hour in
  the close at Seuille, or at Innocent's the pastry-cook over against the
  painted wine-vault at Chinon, though I were to strip to my doublet, and
  bake the petti-pasties myself.
  
  Honest man, could not you throw me ashore? you can do a world of good
  things, they say.  I give you all Salmigondinois, and my large shore full
  of whelks, cockles, and periwinkles, if, by your industry, I ever set foot
  on firm ground.  Alas, alas!  I drown.  Harkee, my friends, since we cannot
  get safe into port, let us come to an anchor in some road, no matter
  whither.  Drop all your anchors; let us be out of danger, I beseech you.
  Here, honest tar, get you into the chains, and heave the lead, an't please
  you.  Let us know how many fathom water we are in.  Sound, friend, in the
  Lord Harry's name.  Let us know whether a man might here drink easily
  without stooping.  I am apt to believe one might.  Helm a-lee, hoh, cried
  the pilot.  Helm a-lee; a hand or two at the helm; about ships with her;
  helm a-lee, helm a-lee.  Stand off from the leech of the sail.  Hoh! belay,
  here make fast below; hoh, helm a-lee, lash sure the helm a-lee, and let
  her drive.  Is it come to that? said Pantagruel; our good Saviour then help
  us.  Let her lie under the sea, cried James Brahier, our chief mate; let
  her drive.  To prayers, to prayers; let all think on their souls, and fall
  to prayers; nor hope to escape but by a miracle.  Let us, said Panurge,
  make some good pious kind of vow; alas, alas, alas! bou, bou, be, be, be,
  bous, bous, bous, oho, oho, oho, oho, let us make a pilgrim; come, come,
  let every man club his penny towards it, come on.  Here, here, on this
  side, said Friar John, in the devil's name.  Let her drive, for the Lord's
  sake unhang the rudder; hoh, let her drive, let her drive, and let us
  drink, I say, of the best and most cheering; d'ye hear, steward? produce,
  exhibit; for, d'ye see this, and all the rest will as well go to the devil
  out of hand.  A pox on that wind-broker Aeolus, with his fluster-blusters.
  Sirrah, page, bring me here my drawer (for so he called his breviary); stay
  a little here; haul, friend, thus.  Odzoons, here is a deal of hail and
  thunder to no purpose.  Hold fast above, I pray you.  When have we
  All-saints day?  I believe it is the unholy holiday of all the devil's crew.
  Alas! said Panurge, Friar John damns himself here as black as buttermilk
  for the nonce.  Oh, what a good friend I lose in him.  Alas, alas! this is
  another gats-bout than last year's.  We are falling out of Scylla into
  Charybdis.  Oho! I drown.  Confiteor; one poor word or two by way of
  testament, Friar John, my ghostly father; good Mr. Abstractor, my crony,
  my Achates, Xenomanes, my all.  Alas! I drown; two words of testament here
  upon this ladder.
  
  
  
  
  A continuation of the storm, with a short discourse on the subject of
  making testaments at sea.
  
  To make one's last will, said Epistemon, at this time that we ought to
  bestir ourselves and help our seamen, on the penalty of being drowned,
  seems to me as idle and ridiculous a maggot as that of some of Caesar's
  men, who, at their coming into the Gauls, were mightily busied in making
  wills and codicils; bemoaned their fortune and the absence of their spouses
  and friends at Rome, when it was absolutely necessary for them to run to
  their arms and use their utmost strength against Ariovistus their enemy.
  
  This also is to be as silly as that jolt-headed loblolly of a carter, who,
  having laid his waggon fast in a slough, down on his marrow-bones was
  calling on the strong-backed deity, Hercules, might and main, to help him
  at a dead lift, but all the while forgot to goad on his oxen and lay his
  shoulder to the wheels, as it behoved him; as if a Lord have mercy upon us
  alone would have got his cart out of the mire.
  
  What will it signify to make your will now? for either we shall come off or
  drown for it.  If we 'scape, it will not signify a straw to us; for
  testaments are of no value or authority but by the death of the testators.
  If we are drowned, will it not be drowned too?  Prithee, who will transmit
  it to the executors?  Some kind wave will throw it ashore, like Ulysses,
  replied Panurge; and some king's daughter, going to fetch a walk in the
  fresco, on the evening will find it, and take care to have it proved and
  fulfilled; nay, and have some stately cenotaph erected to my memory, as
  Dido had to that of her goodman Sichaeus; Aeneas to Deiphobus, upon the
  Trojan shore, near Rhoete; Andromache to Hector, in the city of Buthrot;
  Aristotle to Hermias and Eubulus; the Athenians to the poet Euripides; the
  Romans to Drusus in Germany, and to Alexander Severus, their emperor, in
  the Gauls; Argentier to Callaischre; Xenocrates to Lysidices; Timares to
  his son Teleutagoras; Eupolis and Aristodice to their son Theotimus;
  Onestus to Timocles; Callimachus to Sopolis, the son of Dioclides; Catullus
  to his brother; Statius to his father; Germain of Brie to Herve, the Breton
  tarpaulin.  Art thou mad, said Friar John, to run on at this rate?  Help,
  here, in the name of five hundred thousand millions of cartloads of devils,
  help! may a shanker gnaw thy moustachios, and the three rows of pock-royals
  and cauliflowers cover thy bum and turd-barrel instead of breeches and
  codpiece.  Codsooks, our ship is almost overset.  Ods-death, how shall we
  clear her? it is well if she do not founder.  What a devilish sea there
  runs!  She'll neither try nor hull; the sea will overtake her, so we shall
  never 'scape; the devil 'scape me.  Then Pantagruel was heard to make a sad
  exclamation, saying, with a loud voice, Lord save us, we perish; yet not as
  we would have it, but thy holy will be done.  The Lord and the blessed
  Virgin be with us, said Panurge.  Holos, alas, I drown; be be be bous, be
  bous, bous; in manus.  Good heavens, send me some dolphin to carry me safe
  on shore, like a pretty little Arion.  I shall make shift to sound the
  harp, if it be not unstrung.  Let nineteen legions of black devils seize
  me, said Friar John.  (The Lord be with us! whispered Panurge, between his
  chattering teeth.)  If I come down to thee, I'll show thee to some purpose
  that the badge of thy humanity dangles at a calf's breech, thou ragged,
  horned, cuckoldy booby--mgna, mgnan, mgnan--come hither and help us, thou
  great weeping calf, or may thirty millions of devils leap on thee.  Wilt
  thou come, sea-calf?  Fie; how ugly the howling whelp looks.  What, always
  the same ditty?  Come on now, my bonny drawer.  This he said, opening his
  breviary.  Come forward, thou and I must be somewhat serious for a while;
  let me peruse thee stiffly.  Beatus vir qui non abiit.  Pshaw, I know all
  this by heart; let us see the legend of Mons. St. Nicholas.
  
    Horrida tempestas montem turbavit acutum.
  
  Tempest was a mighty flogger of lads at Mountagu College.  If pedants be
  damned for whipping poor little innocent wretches their scholars, he is,
  upon my honour, by this time fixed within Ixion's wheel, lashing the
  crop-eared, bobtailed cur that gives it motion.  If they are saved for
  having whipped innocent lads, he ought to be above the--
  
  
  
  
  An end of the storm.
  
  Shore, shore! cried Pantagruel.  Land to, my friends, I see land!  Pluck up
  a good spirit, boys, 'tis within a kenning.  So! we are not far from a
  port.--I see the sky clearing up to the northwards.--Look to the
  south-east!  Courage, my hearts, said the pilot; now she'll bear the hullock
  of a sail; the sea is much smoother; some hands aloft to the maintop.  Put
  the helm a-weather.  Steady! steady!  Haul your after-mizen bowlines.  Haul,
  haul, haul!  Thus, thus, and no near.  Mind your steerage; bring your
  main-tack aboard.  Clear your sheets; clear your bowlines; port, port.  Helm
  a-lee.  Now to the sheet on the starboard side, thou son of a whore.  Thou
  art mightily pleased, honest fellow, quoth Friar John, with hearing make
  mention of thy mother.  Luff, luff, cried the quartermaster that conned the
  ship, keep her full, luff the helm.  Luff.  It is, answered the steersman.
  Keep her thus.  Get the bonnets fixed.  Steady, steady.
  
  That is well said, said Friar John now, this is something like a tansy.
  Come, come, come, children, be nimble.  Good.  Luff, luff, thus.  Helm
  a-weather.  That's well said and thought on.  Methinks the storm is almost
  over.  It was high time, faith; however, the Lord be thanked.  Our devils
  begin to scamper.  Out with all your sails.  Hoist your sails.  Hoist.
  That is spoke like a man, hoist, hoist.  Here, a God's name, honest
  Ponocrates; thou art a lusty fornicator; the whoreson will get none but
  boys.  Eusthenes, thou art a notable fellow.  Run up to the fore-topsail.
  Thus, thus.  Well said, i' faith; thus, thus.  I dare not fear anything all
  this while, for it is holiday.  Vea, vea, vea! huzza!  This shout of the
  seaman is not amiss, and pleases me, for it is holiday.  Keep her full
  thus.  Good.  Cheer up, my merry mates all, cried out Epistemon; I see
  already Castor on the right.  Be, be, bous, bous, bous, said Panurge; I am
  much afraid it is the bitch Helen.  It is truly Mixarchagenas, returned
  Epistemon, if thou likest better that denomination, which the Argives give
  him.  Ho, ho! I see land too; let her bear in with the harbour; I see a
  good many people on the beach; I see a light on an obeliscolychny.  Shorten
  your sails, said the pilot; fetch the sounding line; we must double that
  point of land, and mind the sands.  We are clear of them, said the sailors.
  Soon after, Away she goes, quoth the pilot, and so doth the rest of our
  fleet; help came in good season.
  
  By St. John, said Panurge, this is spoke somewhat like.  O the sweet word!
  there is the soul of music in it.  Mgna, mgna, mgna, said Friar John; if
  ever thou taste a drop of it, let the devil's dam taste me, thou ballocky
  devil.  Here, honest soul, here's a full sneaker of the very best.  Bring
  the flagons; dost hear, Gymnast: and that same large pasty jambic,
  gammonic, as you will have it.  Take heed you pilot her in right.
  
  Cheer up, cried out Pantagruel; cheer up, my boys; let us be ourselves
  again.  Do you see yonder, close by our ship, two barks, three sloops, five
  ships, eight pinks, four yawls, and six frigates making towards us, sent by
  the good people of the neighbouring island to our relief?  But who is this
  Ucalegon below, that cries and makes such a sad moan?  Were it not that I
  hold the mast firmly with both my hands, and keep it straighter than two
  hundred tacklings--I would--It is, said Friar John, that poor devil
  Panurge, who is troubled with a calf's ague; he quakes for fear when his
  belly's full.  If, said Pantagruel, he hath been afraid during this
  dreadful hurricane and dangerous storm, provided (waiving that) he hath
  done his part like a man, I do not value him a jot the less for it.  For as
  to fear in all encounters is the mark of a heavy and cowardly heart, as
  Agamemnon did, who for that reason is ignominiously taxed by Achilles with
  having dog's eyes and a stag's heart; so, not to fear when the case is
  evidently dreadful is a sign of want or smallness of judgment.  Now, if
  anything ought to be feared in this life, next to offending God, I will not
  say it is death.  I will not meddle with the disputes of Socrates and the
  academics, that death of itself is neither bad nor to be feared, but I will
  affirm that this kind of shipwreck is to be feared, or nothing is.  For, as
  Homer saith, it is a grievous, dreadful, and unnatural thing to perish at
  sea.  And indeed Aeneas, in the storm that took his fleet near Sicily, was
  grieved that he had not died by the hand of the brave Diomedes, and said
  that those were three, nay four times happy, who perished in the
  conflagration at Troy.  No man here hath lost his life, the Lord our
  Saviour be eternally praised for it! but in truth here is a ship sadly out
  of order.  Well, we must take care to have the damage repaired.  Take heed
  we do not run aground and bulge her.
  
  
  
  
  How Panurge played the good fellow when the storm was over.
  
  What cheer, ho, fore and aft? quoth Panurge.  Oh ho! all is well, the storm
  is over.  I beseech ye, be so kind as to let me be the first that is sent
  on shore; for I would by all means a little untruss a point.  Shall I help
  you still?  Here, let me see, I will coil this rope; I have plenty of
  courage, and of fear as little as may be.  Give it me yonder, honest tar.
  No, no, I have not a bit of fear.  Indeed, that same decumane wave that
  took us fore and aft somewhat altered my pulse.  Down with your sails; well
  said.  How now, Friar John? you do nothing.  Is it time for us to drink
  now?  Who can tell but St. Martin's running footman Belzebuth may still be
  hatching us some further mischief?  Shall I come and help you again?  Pork
  and peas choke me, if I do heartily repent, though too late, not having
  followed the doctrine of the good philosopher who tells us that to walk by
  the sea and to navigate by the shore are very safe and pleasant things;
  just as 'tis to go on foot when we hold our horse by the bridle.  Ha! ha!
  ha! by G--, all goes well.  Shall I help you here too?  Let me see, I will
  do this as it should be, or the devil's in't.
  
  Epistemon, who had the inside of one of his hands all flayed and bloody,
  having held a tackling with might and main, hearing what Pantagruel had
  said, told him:  You may believe, my lord, I had my share of fear as well
  as Panurge; yet I spared no pains in lending my helping hand.  I considered
  that, since by fatal and unavoidable necessity we must all die, it is the
  blessed will of God that we die this or that hour, and this or that kind of
  death.  Nevertheless, we ought to implore, invoke, pray, beseech, and
  supplicate him; but we must not stop there; it behoveth us also to use our
  endeavours on our side, and, as the holy writ saith, to co-operate with
  him.
  
  You know what C. Flaminius, the consul, said when by Hannibal's policy he
  was penned up near the lake of Peruse, alias Thrasymene.  Friends, said he
  to his soldiers, you must not hope to get out of this place barely by vows
  or prayers to the gods; no, 'tis by fortitude and strength we must escape
  and cut ourselves a way with the edge of our swords through the midst of
  our enemies.
  
  Sallust likewise makes M. Portius Cato say this:  The help of the gods is
  not obtained by idle vows and womanish complaints; 'tis by vigilance,
  labour, and repeated endeavours that all things succeed according to our
  wishes and designs.  If a man in time of need and danger is negligent,
  heartless, and lazy, in vain he implores the gods; they are then justly
  angry and incensed against him.  The devil take me, said Friar John,--I'll
  go his halves, quoth Panurge,--if the close of Seville had not been all
  gathered, vintaged, gleaned, and destroyed, if I had only sung contra
  hostium insidias (matter of breviary) like all the rest of the monking
  devils, and had not bestirred myself to save the vineyard as I did,
  despatching the truant picaroons of Lerne with the staff of the cross.
  
  Let her sink or swim a God's name, said Panurge, all's one to Friar John;
  he doth nothing; his name is Friar John Do-little; for all he sees me here
  a-sweating and puffing to help with all my might this honest tar, first of
  the name.--Hark you me, dear soul, a word with you; but pray be not angry.
  How thick do you judge the planks of our ship to be?  Some two good inches
  and upwards, returned the pilot; don't fear.  Ods-kilderkins, said Panurge,
  it seems then we are within two fingers' breadth of damnation.
  
  Is this one of the nine comforts of matrimony?  Ah, dear soul, you do well
  to measure the danger by the yard of fear.  For my part, I have none on't;
  my name is William Dreadnought.  As for heart, I have more than enough
  on't.  I mean none of your sheep's heart; but of wolf's heart--the courage
  of a bravo.  By the pavilion of Mars, I fear nothing but danger.
  
  
  
  
  How Panurge was said to have been afraid without reason during the storm.
  
  Good morrow, gentlemen, said Panurge; good morrow to you all; you are in
  very good health, thanks to heaven and yourselves; you are all heartily
  welcome, and in good time.  Let us go on shore.--Here, coxswain, get the
  ladder over the gunnel; man the sides; man the pinnace, and get her by the
  ship's side.  Shall I lend you a hand here?  I am stark mad for want of
  business, and would work like any two yokes of oxen.  Truly this is a fine
  place, and these look like a very good people.  Children, do you want me
  still in anything? do not spare the sweat of my body, for God's sake.
  Adam--that is, man--was made to labour and work, as the birds were made to
  fly.  Our Lord's will is that we get our bread with the sweat of our brows,
  not idling and doing nothing, like this tatterdemalion of a monk here, this
  Friar Jack, who is fain to drink to hearten himself up, and dies for fear.
  --Rare weather.--I now find the answer of Anacharsis, the noble philosopher,
  very proper.  Being asked what ship he reckoned the safest, he replied:
  That which is in the harbour.  He made a yet better repartee, said
  Pantagruel, when somebody inquiring which is greater, the number of the
  living or that of the dead, he asked them amongst which of the two they
  reckoned those that are at sea, ingeniously implying that they are
  continually in danger of death, dying alive, and living die.  Portius Cato
  also said that there were but three things of which he would repent:  if
  ever he had trusted his wife with his secret, if he had idled away a day,
  and if he had ever gone by sea to a place which he could visit by land.  By
  this dignified frock of mine, said Friar John to Panurge, friend, thou hast
  been afraid during the storm without cause or reason; for thou wert not
  born to be drowned, but rather to be hanged and exalted in the air, or to
  be roasted in the midst of a jolly bonfire.  My lord, would you have a good
  cloak for the rain; leave me off your wolf and badger-skin mantle; let
  Panurge but be flayed, and cover yourself with his hide.  But do not come
  near the fire, nor near your blacksmith's forges, a God's name; for in a
  moment you will see it in ashes.  Yet be as long as you please in the rain,
  snow, hail, nay, by the devil's maker, throw yourself or dive down to the
  very bottom of the water, I'll engage you'll not be wet at all.  Have some
  winter boots made of it, they'll never take in a drop of water; make
  bladders of it to lay under boys to teach them to swim, instead of corks,
  and they will learn without the least danger.  His skin, then, said
  Pantagruel, should be like the herb called true maiden's hair, which never
  takes wet nor moistness, but still keeps dry, though you lay it at the
  bottom of the water as long as you please; and for that reason is called
  Adiantos.
  
  Friend Panurge, said Friar John, I pray thee never be afraid of water; thy
  life for mine thou art threatened with a contrary element.  Ay, ay, replied
  Panurge, but the devil's cooks dote sometimes, and are apt to make horrid
  blunders as well as others; often putting to boil in water what was
  designed to be roasted on the fire; like the head-cooks of our kitchen, who
  often lard partridges, queests, and stock-doves with intent to roast them,
  one would think; but it happens sometimes that they e'en turn the
  partridges into the pot to be boiled with cabbages, the queests with leek
  pottage, and the stock-doves with turnips.  But hark you me, good friends,
  I protest before this noble company, that as for the chapel which I vowed
  to Mons. St. Nicholas between Quande and Montsoreau, I honestly mean that
  it shall be a chapel of rose-water, which shall be where neither cow nor
  calf shall be fed; for between you and I, I intend to throw it to the
  bottom of the water.  Here is a rare rogue for you, said Eusthenes; here is
  a pure rogue, a rogue in grain, a rogue enough, a rogue and a half.  He is
  resolved to make good the Lombardic proverb, Passato el pericolo, gabbato
  el santo.
  
    The devil was sick, the devil a monk would be;
    The devil was well, the devil a monk was he.
  
  
  
  
  How, after the storm, Pantagruel went on shore in the islands of the
  Macreons.
  
  Immediately after we went ashore at the port of an island which they called
  the island of the Macreons.  The good people of the place received us very
  honourably.  An old Macrobius (so they called their eldest elderman)
  desired Pantagruel to come to the town-house to refresh himself and eat
  something, but he would not budge a foot from the mole till all his men
  were landed.  After he had seen them, he gave order that they should all
  change clothes, and that some of all the stores in the fleet should be
  brought on shore, that every ship's crew might live well; which was
  accordingly done, and God wot how well they all toped and caroused.  The
  people of the place brought them provisions in abundance.  The
  Pantagruelists returned them more; as the truth is, theirs were somewhat
  damaged by the late storm.  When they had well stuffed the insides of their
  doublets, Pantagruel desired everyone to lend their help to repair the
  damage; which they readily did.  It was easy enough to refit there; for all
  the inhabitants of the island were carpenters and all such handicrafts as
  are seen in the arsenal at Venice.  None but the largest island was
  inhabited, having three ports and ten parishes; the rest being overrun with
  wood and desert, much like the forest of Arden.  We entreated the old
  Macrobius to show us what was worth seeing in the island; which he did; and
  in the desert and dark forest we discovered several old ruined temples,
  obelisks, pyramids, monuments, and ancient tombs, with divers inscriptions
  and epitaphs; some of them in hieroglyphic characters; others in the Ionic
  dialect; some in the Arabic, Agarenian, Slavonian, and other tongues; of
  which Epistemon took an exact account.  In the interim, Panurge said to
  Friar John, Is this the island of the Macreons?  Macreon signifies in Greek
  an old man, or one much stricken in years.  What is that to me? said Friar
  John; how can I help it?  I was not in the country when they christened it.
  Now I think on't, quoth Panurge, I believe the name of mackerel (Motteux
  adds, between brackets,--'that's a Bawd in French.') was derived from it;
  for procuring is the province of the old, as buttock-riggling is that of
  the young.  Therefore I do not know but this may be the bawdy or Mackerel
  Island, the original and prototype of the island of that name at Paris.
  Let's go and dredge for cock-oysters.  Old Macrobius asked, in the Ionic
  tongue, How, and by what industry and labour, Pantagruel got to their port
  that day, there having been such blustering weather and such a dreadful
  storm at sea.  Pantagruel told him that the Almighty Preserver of mankind
  had regarded the simplicity and sincere affection of his servants, who did
  not travel for gain or sordid profit, the sole design of their voyage being
  a studious desire to know, see, and visit the Oracle of Bacbuc, and take
  the word of the Bottle upon some difficulties offered by one of the
  company; nevertheless this had not been without great affliction and
  evident danger of shipwreck.  After that, he asked him what he judged to be
  the cause of that terrible tempest, and if the adjacent seas were thus
  frequently subject to storms; as in the ocean are the Ratz of Sammaieu,
  Maumusson, and in the Mediterranean sea the Gulf of Sataly, Montargentan,
  Piombino, Capo Melio in Laconia, the Straits of Gibraltar, Faro di Messina,
  and others.
  
  
  
  
  How the good Macrobius gave us an account of the mansion and decease of the
  heroes.
  
  The good Macrobius then answered, Friendly strangers, this island is one of
  the Sporades; not of your Sporades that lie in the Carpathian sea, but one
  of the Sporades of the ocean; in former times rich, frequented, wealthy,
  populous, full of traffic, and in the dominions of the rulers of Britain,
  but now, by course of time, and in these latter ages of the world, poor and
  desolate, as you see.  In this dark forest, above seventy-eight thousand
  Persian leagues in compass, is the dwelling-place of the demons and heroes
  that are grown old, and we believe that some one of them died yesterday;
  since the comet which we saw for three days before together, shines no
  more; and now it is likely that at his death there arose this horrible
  storm; for while they are alive all happiness attends both this and the
  adjacent islands, and a settled calm and serenity.  At the death of every
  one of them, we commonly hear in the forest loud and mournful groans, and
  the whole land is infested with pestilence, earthquakes, inundations, and
  other calamities; the air with fogs and obscurity, and the sea with storms
  and hurricanes.  What you tell us seems to me likely enough, said
  Pantagruel.  For as a torch or candle, as long as it hath life enough and
  is lighted, shines round about, disperses its light, delights those that
  are near it, yields them its service and clearness, and never causes any
  pain or displeasure; but as soon as 'tis extinguished, its smoke and
  evaporation infects the air, offends the bystanders, and is noisome to all;
  so, as long as those noble and renowned souls inhabit their bodies, peace,
  profit, pleasure, and honour never leave the places where they abide; but
  as soon as they leave them, both the continent and adjacent islands are
  annoyed with great commotions; in the air fogs, darkness, thunder, hail;
  tremblings, pulsations, agitations of the earth; storms and hurricanes at
  sea; together with sad complaints amongst the people, broaching of
  religions, changes in governments, and ruins of commonwealths.
  
  We had a sad instance of this lately, said Epistemon, at the death of that
  valiant and learned knight, William du Bellay; during whose life France
  enjoyed so much happiness, that all the rest of the world looked upon it
  with envy, sought friendship with it, and stood in awe of its power; but
  soon after his decease it hath for a considerable time been the scorn of
  the rest of the world.
  
  Thus, said Pantagruel, Anchises being dead at Drepani in Sicily, Aeneas was
  dreadfully tossed and endangered by a storm; and perhaps for the same
  reason Herod, that tyrant and cruel King of Judaea, finding himself near
  the pangs of a horrid kind of death--for he died of a phthiriasis, devoured
  by vermin and lice; as before him died L. Sylla, Pherecydes the Syrian, the
  preceptor of Pythagoras, the Greek poet Alcmaeon, and others--and
  foreseeing that the Jews would make bonfires at his death, caused all the
  nobles and magistrates to be summoned to his seraglio out of all the
  cities, towns, and castles of Judaea, fraudulently pretending that he had
  some things of moment to impart to them.  They made their personal
  appearance; whereupon he caused them all to be shut up in the hippodrome of
  the seraglio; then said to his sister Salome and Alexander her husband:  I
  am certain that the Jews will rejoice at my death; but if you will observe
  and perform what I tell you, my funeral shall be honourable, and there will
  be a general mourning.  As soon as you see me dead, let my guards, to whom
  I have already given strict commission to that purpose, kill all the
  noblemen and magistrates that are secured in the hippodrome.  By these
  means all Jewry shall, in spite of themselves, be obliged to mourn and
  lament, and foreigners will imagine it to be for my death, as if some
  heroic soul had left her body.  A desperate tyrant wished as much when he
  said, When I die, let earth and fire be mixed together; which was as good
  as to say, let the whole world perish.  Which saying the tyrant Nero
  altered, saying, While I live, as Suetonius affirms it.  This detestable
  saying, of which Cicero, lib. De Finib., and Seneca, lib. 2, De Clementia,
  make mention, is ascribed to the Emperor Tiberius by Dion Nicaeus and
  Suidas.
  
  
  
  
  Pantagruel's discourse of the decease of heroic souls; and of the dreadful
  prodigies that happened before the death of the late Lord de Langey.
  
  I would not, continued Pantagruel, have missed the storm that hath thus
  disordered us, were I also to have missed the relation of these things told
  us by this good Macrobius.  Neither am I unwilling to believe what he said
  of a comet that appears in the sky some days before such a decease.  For
  some of those souls are so noble, so precious, and so heroic that heaven
  gives us notice of their departing some days before it happens.  And as a
  prudent physician, seeing by some symptoms that his patient draws towards
  his end, some days before gives notice of it to his wife, children,
  kindred, and friends, that, in that little time he hath yet to live, they
  may admonish him to settle all things in his family, to tutor and instruct
  his children as much as he can, recommend his relict to his friends in her
  widowhood, and declare what he knows to be necessary about a provision for
  the orphans; that he may not be surprised by death without making his will,
  and may take care of his soul and family; in the same manner the heavens,
  as it were joyful for the approaching reception of those blessed souls,
  seem to make bonfires by those comets and blazing meteors, which they at
  the same time kindly design should prognosticate to us here that in a few
  days one of those venerable souls is to leave her body and this terrestrial
  globe.  Not altogether unlike this was what was formerly done at Athens by
  the judges of the Areopagus.  For when they gave their verdict to cast or
  clear the culprits that were tried before them, they used certain notes
  according to the substance of the sentences; by Theta signifying
  condemnation to death; by T, absolution; by A, ampliation or a demur, when
  the case was not sufficiently examined.  Thus having publicly set up those
  letters, they eased the relations and friends of the prisoners, and such
  others as desired to know their doom, of their doubts.  Likewise by these
  comets, as in ethereal characters, the heavens silently say to us, Make
  haste, mortals, if you would know or learn of the blessed souls anything
  concerning the public good or your private interest; for their catastrophe
  is near, which being past, you will vainly wish for them afterwards.
  
  The good-natured heavens still do more; and that mankind may be declared
  unworthy of the enjoyment of those renowned souls, they fright and astonish
  us with prodigies, monsters, and other foreboding signs that thwart the
  order of nature.
  
  Of this we had an instance several days before the decease of the heroic
  soul of the learned and valiant Chevalier de Langey, of whom you have
  already spoken.  I remember it, said Epistemon; and my heart still trembles
  within me when I think on the many dreadful prodigies that we saw five or
  six days before he died.  For the Lords D'Assier, Chemant, one-eyed Mailly,
  St. Ayl, Villeneufue-la-Guyart, Master Gabriel, physician of Savillan,
  Rabelais, Cohuau, Massuau, Majorici, Bullou, Cercu, alias Bourgmaistre,
  Francis Proust, Ferron, Charles Girard, Francis Bourre, and many other
  friends and servants to the deceased, all dismayed, gazed on each other
  without uttering one word; yet not without foreseeing that France would in
  a short time be deprived of a knight so accomplished and necessary for its
  glory and protection, and that heaven claimed him again as its due.  By the
  tufted tip of my cowl, cried Friar John, I am e'en resolved to become a
  scholar before I die.  I have a pretty good headpiece of my own, you must
  own.  Now pray give me leave to ask you a civil question.  Can these same
  heroes or demigods you talk of die?  May I never be damned if I was not so
  much a lobcock as to believe they had been immortal, like so many fine
  angels.  Heaven forgive me! but this most reverend father, Macroby, tells
  us they die at last.  Not all, returned Pantagruel.
  
  The Stoics held them all to be mortal, except one, who alone is immortal,
  impassible, invisible.  Pindar plainly saith that there is no more thread,
  that is to say, no more life, spun from the distaff and flax of the
  hard-hearted Fates for the goddesses Hamadryades than there is for those
  trees that are preserved by them, which are good, sturdy, downright oaks;
  whence they derived their original, according to the opinion of Callimachus
  and Pausanias in Phoci.  With whom concurs Martianus Capella.  As for the
  demigods, fauns, satyrs, sylvans, hobgoblins, aegipanes, nymphs, heroes, and
  demons, several men have, from the total sum, which is the result of the
  divers ages calculated by Hesiod, reckoned their life to be 9720 years; that
  sum consisting of four special numbers orderly arising from one, the same
  added together and multiplied by four every way amounts to forty; these
  forties, being reduced into triangles by five times, make up the total of
  the aforesaid number.  See Plutarch, in his book about the Cessation of
  Oracles.
  
  This, said Friar John, is not matter of breviary; I may believe as little
  or as much of it as you and I please.  I believe, said Pantagruel, that all
  intellectual souls are exempted from Atropos's scissors.  They are all
  immortal, whether they be of angels, or demons, or human; yet I will tell
  you a story concerning this that is very strange, but is written and
  affirmed by several learned historians.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel related a very sad story of the death of the heroes.
  
  Epitherses, the father of Aemilian the rhetorician, sailing from Greece to
  Italy in a ship freighted with divers goods and passengers, at night the
  wind failed 'em near the Echinades, some islands that lie between the Morea
  and Tunis, and the vessel was driven near Paxos.  When they were got
  thither, some of the passengers being asleep, others awake, the rest eating
  and drinking, a voice was heard that called aloud, Thamous! which cry
  surprised them all.  This same Thamous was their pilot, an Egyptian by
  birth, but known by name only to some few travellers.  The voice was heard
  a second time calling Thamous, in a frightful tone; and none making answer,
  but trembling and remaining silent, the voice was heard a third time, more
  dreadful than before.
  
  This caused Thamous to answer:  Here am I; what dost thou call me for?
  What wilt thou have me do?  Then the voice, louder than before, bid him
  publish when he should come to Palodes, that the great god Pan was dead.
  
  Epitherses related that all the mariners and passengers, having heard this,
  were extremely amazed and frighted; and that, consulting among themselves
  whether they had best conceal or divulge what the voice had enjoined,
  Thamous said his advice was that if they happened to have a fair wind they
  should proceed without mentioning a word on't, but if they chanced to be
  becalmed he would publish what he had heard.  Now when they were near
  Palodes they had no wind, neither were they in any current.  Thamous then
  getting up on the top of the ship's forecastle, and casting his eyes on the
  shore, said that he had been commanded to proclaim that the great god Pan
  was dead.  The words were hardly out of his mouth, when deep groans, great
  lamentations, and doleful shrieks, not of one person, but of many together,
  were heard from the land.
  
  The news of this--many being present then--was soon spread at Rome;
  insomuch that Tiberius, who was then emperor, sent for this Thamous, and
  having heard him gave credit to his words.  And inquiring of the learned in
  his court and at Rome who was that Pan, he found by their relation that he
  was the son of Mercury and Penelope, as Herodotus and Cicero in his third
  book of the Nature of the Gods had written before.
  
  For my part, I understand it of that great Saviour of the faithful who was
  shamefully put to death at Jerusalem by the envy and wickedness of the
  doctors, priests, and monks of the Mosaic law.  And methinks my
  interpretation is not improper; for he may lawfully be said in the Greek
  tongue to be Pan, since he is our all.  For all that we are, all that we
  live, all that we have, all that we hope, is him, by him, from him, and in
  him.  He is the good Pan, the great shepherd, who, as the loving shepherd
  Corydon affirms, hath not only a tender love and affection for his sheep,
  but also for their shepherds.  At his death, complaints, sighs, fears, and
  lamentations were spread through the whole fabric of the universe, whether
  heavens, land, sea, or hell.
  
  The time also concurs with this interpretation of mine; for this most good,
  most mighty Pan, our only Saviour, died near Jerusalem during the reign of
  Tiberius Caesar.
  
  Pantagruel, having ended this discourse, remained silent and full of
  contemplation.  A little while after we saw the tears flow out of his eyes
  as big as ostrich's eggs.  God take me presently if I tell you one single
  syllable of a lie in the matter.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel sailed by the Sneaking Island, where Shrovetide reigned.
  
  The jovial fleet being refitted and repaired, new stores taken in, the
  Macreons over and above satisfied and pleased with the money spent there by
  Pantagruel, our men in better humour than they used to be, if possible, we
  merrily put to sea the next day, near sunset, with a delicious fresh gale.
  
  Xenomanes showed us afar off the Sneaking Island, where reigned Shrovetide,
  of whom Pantagruel had heard much talk formerly; for that reason he would
  gladly have seen him in person, had not Xenomanes advised him to the
  contrary; first, because this would have been much out of our way, and then
  for the lean cheer which he told us was to be found at that prince's court,
  and indeed all over the island.
  
  You can see nothing there for your money, said he, but a huge greedy-guts,
  a tall woundy swallower of hot wardens and mussels; a long-shanked
  mole-catcher; an overgrown bottler of hay; a mossy-chinned demi-giant, with
  a double shaven crown, of lantern breed; a very great loitering noddy-peaked
  youngster, banner-bearer to the fish-eating tribe, dictator of mustard-land,
  flogger of little children, calciner of ashes, father and foster-father to
  physicians, swarming with pardons, indulgences, and stations; a very honest
  man; a good catholic, and as brimful of devotion as ever he can hold.
  
  He weeps the three-fourth parts of the day, and never assists at any
  weddings; but, give the devil his due, he is the most industrious
  larding-stick and skewer-maker in forty kingdoms.
  
  About six years ago, as I passed by Sneaking-land, I brought home a large
  skewer from thence, and made a present of it to the butchers of Quande, who
  set a great value upon them, and that for a cause.  Some time or other, if
  ever we live to come back to our own country, I will show you two of them
  fastened on the great church porch.  His usual food is pickled coats of
  mail, salt helmets and head-pieces, and salt sallets; which sometimes makes
  him piss pins and needles.  As for his clothing, 'tis comical enough o'
  conscience, both for make and colour; for he wears grey and cold, nothing
  before, and nought behind, with the sleeves of the same.
  
  You will do me a kindness, said Pantagruel, if, as you have described his
  clothes, food, actions, and pastimes, you will also give me an account of
  his shape and disposition in all his parts.  Prithee do, dear cod, said
  Friar John, for I have found him in my breviary, and then follow the
  movable holy days.  With all my heart, answered Xenomanes; we may chance to
  hear more of him as we touch at the Wild Island, the dominions of the squab
  Chitterlings, his enemies, against whom he is eternally at odds; and were
  it not for the help of the noble Carnival, their protector and good
  neighbour, this meagre-looked lozelly Shrovetide would long before this
  have made sad work among them, and rooted them out of their habitation.
  Are these same Chitterlings, said Friar John, male or female, angels or
  mortals, women or maids?  They are, replied Xenomanes, females in sex,
  mortal in kind, some of them maids, others not.  The devil have me, said
  Friar John, if I ben't for them.  What a shameful disorder in nature, is it
  not, to make war against women?  Let's go back and hack the villain to
  pieces.  What! meddle with Shrovetide? cried Panurge, in the name of
  Beelzebub, I am not yet so weary of my life.  No, I'm not yet so mad as
  that comes to.  Quid juris?  Suppose we should find ourselves pent up
  between the Chitterlings and Shrovetide? between the anvil and the hammers?
  Shankers and buboes! stand off! godzooks, let us make the best of our way.
  I bid you good night, sweet Mr. Shrovetide; I recommend to you the
  Chitterlings, and pray don't forget the puddings.
  
  
  
  
  How Shrovetide is anatomized and described by Xenomanes.
  
  As for the inward parts of Shrovetide, said Xenomanes; his brain is (at
  least, it was in my time) in bigness, colours, substance, and strength,
  much like the left cod of a he hand-worm.
  
  The ventricles of his said brain,     The stomach, like a belt.
    like an auger.                      The pylorus, like a pitchfork.
  The worm-like excrescence, like       The windpipe, like an oyster-
    a Christmas-box.                      knife.
  The membranes, like a monk's          The throat, like a pincushion
    cowl.                                 stuffed with oakum.
  The funnel, like a mason's chisel.    The lungs, like a prebend's
  The fornix, like a casket.              fur-gown.
  The glandula pinealis, like a bag-    The heart, like a cope.
    pipe.                               The mediastine, like an earthen
  The rete mirabile, like a gutter.       cup.
  The dug-like processus, like a        The pleura, like a crow's bill.
    patch.                              The arteries, like a watch-coat.
  The tympanums, like a whirli-         The midriff, like a montero-cap.
    gig.                                The liver, like a double-tongued
  The rocky bones, like a goose-          mattock.
    wing.                               The veins, like a sash-window.
  The nape of the neck, like a paper    The spleen, like a catcall.
    lantern.                            The guts, like a trammel.
  The nerves, like a pipkin.            The gall, like a cooper's adze.
  The uvula, like a sackbut.            The entrails, like a gauntlet.
  The palate, like a mitten.            The mesentery, like an abbot's
  The spittle, like a shuttle.            mitre.
  The almonds, like a telescope.        The hungry gut, like a button.
  The bridge of his nose, like a        The blind gut, like a breastplate.
    wheelbarrow.                        The colon, like a bridle.
  The head of the larynx, like a        The arse-gut, like a monk's
    vintage-basket.                       leathern bottle.
  The kidneys, like a trowel.           The ligaments, like a tinker's
  The loins, like a padlock.              budget.
  The ureters, like a pothook.          The bones, like three-cornered
  The emulgent veins, like two            cheesecakes.
    gilliflowers.                       The marrow, like a wallet.
  The spermatic vessels, like a         The cartilages, like a field-
    cully-mully-puff.                           tortoise, alias a mole.
  The parastata, like an inkpot.        The glandules in the mouth, like
  The bladder, like a stone-bow.          a pruning-knife.
  The neck, like a mill-clapper.        The animal spirits, like swingeing
  The mirach, or lower parts of the       fisticuffs.
    belly, like a high-crowned hat.     The blood-fermenting, like a
  The siphach, or its inner rind,         multiplication of flirts on the
    like a wooden cuff.                   nose.
  The muscles, like a pair of bellows.  The urine, like a figpecker.
  The tendons, like a hawking-          The sperm, like a hundred
    glove.                                ten-penny nails.
  
  And his nurse told me, that being married to Mid-lent, he only begot a good
  number of local adverbs and certain double fasts.
  
  His memory he had like a scarf.       His undertakings, like the ballast
  His common sense, like a buzzing        of a galleon.
    of bees.                            His understanding, like a torn
  His imagination, like the chime         breviary.
    of a set of bells.                  His notions, like snails crawling
  His thoughts, like a flight of star-    out of strawberries.
    lings.                              His will, like three filberts in a
  His conscience, like the unnest-        porringer.
    ling of a parcel of young           His desire, like six trusses of hay.
    herons.                             His judgment, like a shoeing-
  His deliberations, like a set of        horn.
    organs.                             His discretion, like the truckle of
  His repentance, like the carriage       a pulley.
    of a double cannon.                 His reason, like a cricket.
  
  
  
  
  Shrovetide's outward parts anatomized.
  
  Shrovetide, continued Xenomanes, is somewhat better proportioned in his
  outward parts, excepting the seven ribs which he had over and above the
  common shape of men.
  
  His toes were like a virginal on     The peritoneum, or caul wherein
    an organ.                            his bowels were wrapped, like
  His nails, like a gimlet.              a billiard-table.
  His feet, like a guitar.             His back, like an overgrown rack-
  His heels, like a club.                bent crossbow.
  The soles of his feet, like a cru-   The vertebrae, or joints of his
    cible.                               backbone, like a bagpipe.
  His legs, like a hawk's lure.        His ribs, like a spinning-wheel.
  His knees, like a joint-stool.       His brisket, like a canopy.
  His thighs, like a steel cap.        His shoulder-blades, like a mortar.
  His hips, like a wimble.             His breast, like a game at nine-
  His belly as big as a tun, buttoned    pins.
    after the old fashion, with a      His paps, like a hornpipe.
    girdle riding over the middle      His armpits, like a chequer.
    of his bosom.                      His shoulders, like a hand-barrow.
  His navel, like a cymbal.            His arms, like a riding-hood.
  His groin, like a minced pie.        His fingers, like a brotherhood's
  His member, like a slipper.            andirons.
  His purse, like an oil cruet.        The fibulae, or lesser bones of his
  His genitals, like a joiner's planer.  legs, like a pair of stilts.
  Their erecting muscles, like a       His shin-bones, like sickles.
    racket.                            His elbows, like a mouse-trap.
  The perineum, like a flageolet.      His hands, like a curry-comb.
  His arse-hole, like a crystal look-  His neck, like a talboy.
    ing-glass.                         His throat, like a felt to distil hip-
  His bum, like a harrow.                pocras.
  The knob in his throat, like a       His loins, like a butter-pot.
    barrel, where hanged two           His jaws, like a caudle cup.
    brazen wens, very fine and         His teeth, like a hunter's staff.
    harmonious, in the shape of an       Of such colt's teeth as his,
    hourglass.                           you will find one at Colonges
  His beard, like a lantern.             les Royaux in Poitou, and
  His chin, like a mushroom.             two at La Brosse in Xaintonge,
  His ears, like a pair of gloves.       on the cellar door.
  His nose, like a buskin.             His tongue, like a jew's-harp.
  His nostrils, like a forehead cloth. His mouth, like a horse-cloth.
  His eyebrows, like a dripping-pan.   His face embroidered like a mule's
  On his left brow was a mark of         pack-saddle.
    the shape and bigness of an        His head contrived like a still.
    urinal.                            His skull, like a pouch.
  His eyelids, like a fiddle.          The suturae, or seams of his skull,
  His eyes, like a comb-box.             like the annulus piscatoris, or
  His optic nerves, like a tinder-       the fisher's signet.
    box.                               His skin, like a gabardine.
  His forehead, like a false cup.      His epidermis, or outward skin,
  His temples, like the cock of a        like a bolting-cloth.
    cistern.                           His hair, like a scrubbing-brush.
  His cheeks, like a pair of wooden    His fur, such as above said.
    shoes.
  
  
  
  
  A continuation of Shrovetide's countenance.
  
  'Tis a wonderful thing, continued Xenomanes, to hear and see the state of
  Shrovetide.
  
  If he chanced to spit, it was whole  When he trembled, it was large
    basketsful of goldfinches.           venison pasties.
  If he blowed his nose, it was        When he did sweat, it was old
    pickled grigs.                       ling with butter sauce.
  When he wept, it was ducks with      When he belched, it was bushels
    onion sauce.                         of oysters.
  When he sneezed, it was whole        When he muttered, it was lawyers'
    tubfuls of mustard.                  revels.
  When he coughed, it was boxes        When he hopped about, it was
    of marmalade.                        letters of licence and protec-
  When he sobbed, it was water-          tions.
    cresses.                           When he stepped back, it was
  When he yawned, it was potfuls         sea cockle-shells.
    of pickled peas.                   When he slabbered, it was com-
  When he sighed, it was dried           mon ovens.
    neats' tongues.                    When he was hoarse, it was an
  When he whistled, it was a whole       entry of morrice-dancers.
    scuttleful of green apes.          When he broke wind, it was dun
  When he snored, it was a whole         cows' leather spatterdashes.
    panful of fried beans.             When he funked, it was washed-
  When he frowned, it was soused         leather boots.
    hogs' feet.                        When he scratched himself, it
  When he spoke, it was coarse           was new proclamations.
    brown russet cloth; so little      When he sung, it was peas in
    it was like crimson silk, with       cods.
    which Parisatis desired that       When he evacuated, it was mush-
    the words of such as spoke to        rooms and morilles.
    her son Cyrus, King of Persia,     When he puffed, it was cabbages
    should be interwoven.                with oil, alias caules amb'olif.
  When he blowed, it was indulg-       When he talked, it was the last
    ence money-boxes.                    year's snow.
  When he winked, it was buttered      When he dreamt, it was of a
    buns.                                cock and a bull.
  When he grumbled, it was March       When he gave nothing, so much
    cats.                                for the bearer.
  When he nodded, it was iron-         If he thought to himself, it was
    bound waggons.                       whimsies and maggots.
  When he made mouths, it was          If he dozed, it was leases of lands.
    broken staves.
  
  What is yet more strange, he used to work doing nothing, and did nothing
  though he worked; caroused sleeping, and slept carousing, with his eyes
  open, like the hares in our country, for fear of being taken napping by the
  Chitterlings, his inveterate enemies; biting he laughed, and laughing bit;
  eat nothing fasting, and fasted eating nothing; mumbled upon suspicion,
  drank by imagination, swam on the tops of high steeples, dried his clothes
  in ponds and rivers, fished in the air, and there used to catch decumane
  lobsters; hunted at the bottom of the herring-pond, and caught there
  ibexes, stamboucs, chamois, and other wild goats; used to put out the eyes
  of all the crows which he took sneakingly; feared nothing but his own
  shadow and the cries of fat kids; used to gad abroad some days, like a
  truant schoolboy; played with the ropes of bells on festival days of
  saints; made a mallet of his fist, and writ on hairy parchment
  prognostications and almanacks with his huge pin-case.
  
  Is that the gentleman? said Friar John.  He is my man; this is the very
  fellow I looked for.  I will send him a challenge immediately.  This is,
  said Pantagruel, a strange and monstrous sort of man, if I may call him a
  man.  You put me in mind of the form and looks of Amodunt and Dissonance.
  How were they made? said Friar John.  May I be peeled like a raw onion if
  ever I heard a word of them.  I'll tell you what I read of them in some
  ancient apologues, replied Pantagruel.
  
  Physis--that is to say, Nature--at her first burthen begat Beauty and
  Harmony without carnal copulation, being of herself very fruitful and
  prolific.  Antiphysis, who ever was the counter part of Nature,
  immediately, out of a malicious spite against her for her beautiful and
  honourable productions, in opposition begot Amodunt and Dissonance by
  copulation with Tellumon.  Their heads were round like a football, and not
  gently flatted on both sides, like the common shape of men.  Their ears
  stood pricked up like those of asses; their eyes, as hard as those of
  crabs, and without brows, stared out of their heads, fixed on bones like
  those of our heels; their feet were round like tennis-balls; their arms and
  hands turned backwards towards their shoulders; and they walked on their
  heads, continually turning round like a ball, topsy-turvy, heels over head.
  
  Yet--as you know that apes esteem their young the handsomest in the world
  --Antiphysis extolled her offspring, and strove to prove that their shape
  was handsomer and neater than that of the children of Physis, saying that
  thus to have spherical heads and feet, and walk in a circular manner,
  wheeling round, had something in it of the perfection of the divine power,
  which makes all beings eternally turn in that fashion; and that to have our
  feet uppermost, and the head below them, was to imitate the Creator of the
  universe; the hair being like the roots, and the legs like the branches of
  man; for trees are better planted by their roots than they could be by their
  branches.  By this demonstration she implied that her children were much
  more to be praised for being like a standing tree, than those of Physis,
  that made a figure of a tree upside down.  As for the arms and hands, she
  pretended to prove that they were more justly turned towards the shoulders,
  because that part of the body ought not to be without defence, while the
  forepart is duly fenced with teeth, which a man cannot only use to chew, but
  also to defend himself against those things that offend him. Thus, by the
  testimony and astipulation of the brute beasts, she drew all the witless
  herd and mob of fools into her opinion, and was admired by all brainless and
  nonsensical people.
  
  Since that, she begot the hypocritical tribes of eavesdropping dissemblers,
  superstitious pope-mongers, and priest-ridden bigots, the frantic
  Pistolets, (the demoniacal Calvins, impostors of Geneva,) the scrapers of
  benefices, apparitors with the devil in them, and other grinders and
  squeezers of livings, herb-stinking hermits, gulligutted dunces of the
  cowl, church vermin, false zealots, devourers of the substance of men, and
  many more other deformed and ill-favoured monsters, made in spite of
  nature.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel discovered a monstrous physeter, or whirlpool, near the Wild
  Island.
  
  About sunset, coming near the Wild Island, Pantagruel spied afar off a huge
  monstrous physeter (a sort of whale, which some call a whirlpool), that
  came right upon us, neighing, snorting, raised above the waves higher than
  our main-tops, and spouting water all the way into the air before itself,
  like a large river falling from a mountain.  Pantagruel showed it to the
  pilot and to Xenomanes.
  
  By the pilot's advice the trumpets of the Thalamege were sounded to warn
  all the fleet to stand close and look to themselves.  This alarm being
  given, all the ships, galleons, frigates, brigantines, according to their
  naval discipline, placed themselves in the order and figure of an Y
  (upsilon), the letter of Pythagoras, as cranes do in their flight, and like
  an acute angle, in whose cone and basis the Thalamege placed herself ready
  to fight smartly.  Friar John with the grenadiers got on the forecastle.
  
  Poor Panurge began to cry and howl worse than ever.  Babille-babou, said
  he, shrugging up his shoulders, quivering all over with fear, there will be
  the devil upon dun.  This is a worse business than that t'other day.  Let
  us fly, let us fly; old Nick take me if it is not Leviathan, described by
  the noble prophet Moses in the life of patient Job.  It will swallow us
  all, ships and men, shag, rag, and bobtail, like a dose of pills.  Alas! it
  will make no more of us, and we shall hold no more room in its hellish
  jaws, than a sugarplum in an ass's throat.  Look, look, 'tis upon us; let
  us wheel off, whip it away, and get ashore.  I believe 'tis the very
  individual sea-monster that was formerly designed to devour Andromeda; we
  are all undone.  Oh! for some valiant Perseus here now to kill the dog.
  
  I'll do its business presently, said Pantagruel; fear nothing.  Ods-belly,
  said Panurge, remove the cause of my fear then.  When the devil would you
  have a man be afraid but when there is so much cause?  If your destiny be
  such as Friar John was saying a while ago, replied Pantagruel, you ought to
  be afraid of Pyroeis, Eous, Aethon, and Phlegon, the sun's coach-horses,
  that breathe fire at the nostrils; and not of physeters, that spout nothing
  but water at the snout and mouth.  Their water will not endanger your life;
  and that element will rather save and preserve than hurt or endanger you.
  
  Ay, ay, trust to that, and hang me, quoth Panurge; yours is a very pretty
  fancy.  Ods-fish! did I not give you a sufficient account of the elements'
  transmutation, and the blunders that are made of roast for boiled, and
  boiled for roast?  Alas! here 'tis; I'll go hide myself below.  We are dead
  men, every mother's son of us.  I see upon our main-top that merciless hag
  Atropos, with her scissors new ground, ready to cut our threads all at one
  snip.  Oh! how dreadful and abominable thou art; thou hast drowned a good
  many beside us, who never made their brags of it.  Did it but spout good,
  brisk, dainty, delicious white wine, instead of this damned bitter salt
  water, one might better bear with it, and there would be some cause to be
  patient; like that English lord, who being doomed to die, and had leave to
  choose what kind of death he would, chose to be drowned in a butt of
  malmsey.  Here it is.  Oh, oh! devil!  Sathanas!  Leviathan!  I cannot
  abide to look upon thee, thou art so abominably ugly.  Go to the bar, go
  take the pettifoggers.
  
  
  
  
  How the monstrous physeter was slain by Pantagruel.
  
  The physeter, coming between the ships and the galleons, threw water by
  whole tuns upon them, as if it had been the cataracts of the Nile in
  Ethiopia.  On the other side, arrows, darts, gleaves, javelins, spears,
  harping-irons, and partizans, flew upon it like hail.  Friar John did not
  spare himself in it.  Panurge was half dead for fear.  The artillery roared
  and thundered like mad, and seemed to gall it in good earnest, but did but
  little good; for the great iron and brass cannon-shot entering its skin
  seemed to melt like tiles in the sun.
  
  Pantagruel then, considering the weight and exigency of the matter,
  stretched out his arms and showed what he could do.  You tell us, and it is
  recorded, that Commudus, the Roman emperor, could shoot with a bow so
  dexterously that at a good distance he would let fly an arrow through a
  child's fingers and never touch them.  You also tell us of an Indian
  archer, who lived when Alexander the Great conquered India, and was so
  skilful in drawing the bow, that at a considerable distance he would shoot
  his arrows through a ring, though they were three cubits long, and their
  iron so large and weighty that with them he used to pierce steel cutlasses,
  thick shields, steel breastplates, and generally what he did hit, how firm,
  resisting, hard, and strong soever it were.  You also tell us wonders of
  the industry of the ancient Franks, who were preferred to all others in
  point of archery; and when they hunted either black or dun beasts, used to
  rub the head of their arrows with hellebore, because the flesh of the
  venison struck with such an arrow was more tender, dainty, wholesome, and
  delicious--paring off, nevertheless, the part that was touched round about.
  You also talk of the Parthians, who used to shoot backwards more
  dexterously than other nations forwards; and also celebrate the skill of
  the Scythians in that art, who sent once to Darius, King of Persia, an
  ambassador that made him a present of a bird, a frog, a mouse, and five
  arrows, without speaking one word; and being asked what those presents
  meant, and if he had commission to say anything, answered that he had not;
  which puzzled and gravelled Darius very much, till Gobrias, one of the
  seven captains that had killed the magi, explained it, saying to Darius:
  By these gifts and offerings the Scythians silently tell you that except
  the Persians like birds fly up to heaven, or like mice hide themselves near
  the centre of the earth, or like frogs dive to the very bottom of ponds and
  lakes, they shall be destroyed by the power and arrows of the Scythians.
  
  The noble Pantagruel was, without comparison, more admirable yet in the art
  of shooting and darting; for with his dreadful piles and darts, nearly
  resembling the huge beams that support the bridges of Nantes, Saumur,
  Bergerac, and at Paris the millers' and the changers' bridges, in length,
  size, weight, and iron-work, he at a mile's distance would open an oyster
  and never touch the edges; he would snuff a candle without putting it out;
  would shoot a magpie in the eye; take off a boot's under-sole, or a
  riding-hood's lining, without soiling them a bit; turn over every leaf
  of Friar John's breviary, one after another, and not tear one.
  
  With such darts, of which there was good store in the ship, at the first
  blow he ran the physeter in at the forehead so furiously that he pierced
  both its jaws and tongue; so that from that time to this it no more opened
  its guttural trapdoor, nor drew and spouted water.  At the second blow he
  put out its right eye, and at the third its left; and we had all the
  pleasure to see the physeter bearing those three horns in its forehead,
  somewhat leaning forwards in an equilateral triangle.
  
  Meanwhile it turned about to and fro, staggering and straying like one
  stunned, blinded, and taking his leave of the world.  Pantagruel, not
  satisfied with this, let fly another dart, which took the monster under the
  tail likewise sloping; then with three other on the chine, in a
  perpendicular line, divided its flank from the tail to the snout at an
  equal distance.  Then he larded it with fifty on one side, and after that,
  to make even work, he darted as many on its other side; so that the body of
  the physeter seemed like the hulk of a galleon with three masts, joined by
  a competent dimension of its beams, as if they had been the ribs and
  chain-wales of the keel; which was a pleasant sight.  The physeter then
  giving up the ghost, turned itself upon its back, as all dead fishes do; and
  being thus overturned, with the beams and darts upside down in the sea, it
  seemed a scolopendra or centipede, as that serpent is described by the
  ancient sage Nicander.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel went on shore in the Wild Island, the ancient abode of the
  Chitterlings.
  
  The boat's crew of the ship Lantern towed the physeter ashore on the
  neighbouring shore, which happened to be the Wild Island, to make an
  anatomical dissection of its body and save the fat of its kidneys, which,
  they said, was very useful and necessary for the cure of a certain
  distemper, which they called want of money.  As for Pantagruel, he took no
  manner of notice of the monster; for he had seen many such, nay, bigger, in
  the Gallic ocean.  Yet he condescended to land in the Wild Island, to dry
  and refresh some of his men (whom the physeter had wetted and bedaubed), at
  a small desert seaport towards the south, seated near a fine pleasant
  grove, out of which flowed a delicious brook of fresh, clear, and purling
  water.  Here they pitched their tents and set up their kitchens; nor did
  they spare fuel.
  
  Everyone having shifted as they thought fit, Friar John rang the bell, and
  the cloth was immediately laid, and supper brought in.  Pantagruel eating
  cheerfully with his men, much about the second course perceived certain
  little sly Chitterlings clambering up a high tree near the pantry, as still
  as so many mice.  Which made him ask Xenomanes what kind of creatures these
  were, taking them for squirrels, weasels, martins, or ermines.  They are
  Chitterlings, replied Xenomanes.  This is the Wild Island of which I spoke
  to you this morning; there hath been an irreconcilable war this long time
  between them and Shrovetide, their malicious and ancient enemy.  I believe
  that the noise of the guns which we fired at the physeter hath alarmed
  them, and made them fear their enemy was come with his forces to surprise
  them, or lay the island waste, as he hath often attempted to do; though he
  still came off but bluely, by reason of the care and vigilance of the
  Chitterlings, who (as Dido said to Aeneas's companions that would have
  landed at Carthage without her leave or knowledge) were forced to watch and
  stand upon their guard, considering the malice of their enemy and the
  neighbourhood of his territories.
  
  Pray, dear friend, said Pantagruel, if you find that by some honest means
  we may bring this war to an end, and reconcile them together, give me
  notice of it; I will use my endeavours in it with all my heart, and spare
  nothing on my side to moderate and accommodate the points in dispute
  between both parties.
  
  That's impossible at this time, answered Xenomanes.  About four years ago,
  passing incognito by this country, I endeavoured to make a peace, or at
  least a long truce among them; and I had certainly brought them to be good
  friends and neighbours if both one and the other parties would have yielded
  to one single article.  Shrovetide would not include in the treaty of peace
  the wild puddings nor the highland sausages, their ancient gossips and
  confederates.  The Chitterlings demanded that the fort of Cacques might be
  under their government, as is the Castle of Sullouoir, and that a parcel of
  I don't know what stinking villains, murderers, robbers, that held it then,
  should be expelled.  But they could not agree in this, and the terms that
  were offered seemed too hard to either party.  So the treaty broke off, and
  nothing was done.  Nevertheless, they became less severe, and gentler
  enemies than they were before; but since the denunciation of the national
  Council of Chesil, whereby they were roughly handled, hampered, and cited;
  whereby also Shrovetide was declared filthy, beshitten, and berayed, in
  case he made any league or agreement with them; they are grown wonderfully
  inveterate, incensed, and obstinate against one another, and there is no
  way to remedy it.  You might sooner reconcile cats and rats, or hounds and
  hares together.
  
  
  
  
  How the wild Chitterlings laid an ambuscado for Pantagruel.
  
  While Xenomanes was saying this, Friar John spied twenty or thirty young
  slender-shaped Chitterlings posting as fast as they could towards their
  town, citadel, castle, and fort of Chimney, and said to Pantagruel, I smell
  a rat; there will be here the devil upon two sticks, or I am much out.
  These worshipful Chitterlings may chance to mistake you for Shrovetide,
  though you are not a bit like him.  Let us once in our lives leave our
  junketing for a while, and put ourselves in a posture to give 'em a
  bellyful of fighting, if they would be at that sport.  There can be no
  false Latin in this, said Xenomanes; Chitterlings are still Chitterlings,
  always double-hearted and treacherous.
  
  Pantagruel then arose from table to visit and scour the thicket, and
  returned presently; having discovered, on the left, an ambuscade of squab
  Chitterlings; and on the right, about half a league from thence, a large
  body of huge giant-like armed Chitterlings ranged in battalia along a
  little hill, and marching furiously towards us at the sound of bagpipes,
  sheep's paunches, and bladders, the merry fifes and drums, trumpets, and
  clarions, hoping to catch us as Moss caught his mare.  By the conjecture of
  seventy-eight standards which we told, we guessed their number to be two
  and forty thousand, at a modest computation.
  
  Their order, proud gait, and resolute looks made us judge that they were
  none of your raw, paltry links, but old warlike Chitterlings and Sausages.
  From the foremost ranks to the colours they were all armed cap-a-pie with
  small arms, as we reckoned them at a distance, yet very sharp and
  case-hardened.  Their right and left wings were lined with a great number of
  forest puddings, heavy pattipans, and horse sausages, all of them tall and
  proper islanders, banditti, and wild.
  
  Pantagruel was very much daunted, and not without cause; though Epistemon
  told him that it might be the use and custom of the Chitterlingonians to
  welcome and receive thus in arms their foreign friends, as the noble kings
  of France are received and saluted at their first coming into the chief
  cities of the kingdom after their advancement to the crown.  Perhaps, said
  he, it may be the usual guard of the queen of the place, who, having notice
  given her by the junior Chitterlings of the forlorn hope whom you saw on
  the tree, of the arrival of your fine and pompous fleet, hath judged that
  it was without doubt some rich and potent prince, and is come to visit you
  in person.
  
  Pantagruel, little trusting to this, called a council, to have their advice
  at large in this doubtful case.  He briefly showed them how this way of
  reception with arms had often, under colour of compliment and friendship,
  been fatal.  Thus, said he, the Emperor Antonius Caracalla at one time
  destroyed the citizens of Alexandria, and at another time cut off the
  attendants of Artabanus, King of Persia, under colour of marrying his
  daughter, which, by the way, did not pass unpunished, for a while after
  this cost him his life.
  
  Thus Jacob's children destroyed the Sichemites, to revenge the rape of
  their sister Dinah.  By such another hypocritical trick Gallienus, the
  Roman emperor, put to death the military men in Constantinople.  Thus,
  under colour of friendship, Antonius enticed Artavasdes, King of Armenia;
  then, having caused him to be bound in heavy chains and shackled, at last
  put him to death.
  
  We find a thousand such instances in history; and King Charles VI. is
  justly commended for his prudence to this day, in that, coming back
  victorious over the Ghenters and other Flemings to his good city of Paris,
  and when he came to Bourget, a league from thence, hearing that the
  citizens with their mallets--whence they got the name of Maillotins--were
  marched out of town in battalia, twenty thousand strong, he would not go
  into the town till they had laid down their arms and retired to their
  respective homes; though they protested to him that they had taken arms
  with no other design than to receive him with the greater demonstration of
  honour and respect.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel sent for Colonel Maul-chitterling and Colonel Cut-pudding;
  with a discourse well worth your hearing about the names of places and
  persons.
  
  The resolution of the council was that, let things be how they would, it
  behoved the Pantagruelists to stand upon their guard.  Therefore Carpalin
  and Gymnast were ordered by Pantagruel to go for the soldiers that were on
  board the Cup galley, under the command of Colonel Maul-chitterling, and
  those on board the Vine-tub frigate, under the command of Colonel
  Cut-pudding the younger.  I will ease Gymnast of that trouble, said Panurge,
  who wanted to be upon the run; you may have occasion for him here.  By
  this worthy frock of mine, quoth Friar John, thou hast a mind to slip thy
  neck out of the collar and absent thyself from the fight, thou
  white-livered son of a dunghill!  Upon my virginity thou wilt never come
  back. Well, there can be no great loss in thee; for thou wouldst do nothing
  here but howl, bray, weep, and dishearten the good soldiers.  I will
  certainly come back, said Panurge, Friar John, my ghostly father, and
  speedily too; do but take care that these plaguy Chitterlings do not board
  our ships. All the while you will be a-fighting I will pray heartily for
  your victory, after the example of the valiant captain and guide of the
  people of Israel, Moses. Having said this, he wheeled off.
  
  Then said Epistemon to Pantagruel:  The denomination of these two colonels
  of yours, Maul-chitterling and Cut-pudding, promiseth us assurance,
  success, and victory, if those Chitterlings should chance to set upon us.
  You take it rightly, said Pantagruel, and it pleaseth me to see you foresee
  and prognosticate our victory by the names of our colonels.
  
  This way of foretelling by names is not new; it was in old times celebrated
  and religiously observed by the Pythagoreans.  Several great princes and
  emperors have formerly made good use of it.  Octavianus Augustus, second
  emperor of the Romans, meeting on a day a country fellow named Eutychus
  --that is, fortunate--driving an ass named Nicon--that is, in Greek,
  Victorian--moved by the signification of the ass's and ass-driver's names,
  remained assured of all prosperity and victory.
  
  The Emperor Vespasian being once all alone at prayers in the temple of
  Serapis, at the sight and unexpected coming of a certain servant of his
  named Basilides--that is, royal--whom he had left sick a great way behind,
  took hopes and assurance of obtaining the empire of the Romans.  Regilian
  was chosen emperor by the soldiers for no other reason but the
  signification of his name.  See the Cratylus of the divine Plato.  (By my
  thirst, I will read it, said Rhizotome; I hear you so often quote it.)  See
  how the Pythagoreans, by reason of the names and numbers, conclude that
  Patroclus was to fall by the hand of Hector; Hector by Achilles; Achilles
  by Paris; Paris by Philoctetes.  I am quite lost in my understanding when I
  reflect upon the admirable invention of Pythagoras, who by the number,
  either even or odd, of the syllables of every name, would tell you of what
  side a man was lame, hulch-backed, blind, gouty, troubled with the palsy,
  pleurisy, or any other distemper incident to humankind; allotting even
  numbers to the left (Motteux reads--'even numbers to the Right, and odd
  ones to the Left.'), and odd ones to the right side of the body.
  
  Indeed, said Epistemon, I saw this way of syllabizing tried at Xaintes at a
  general procession, in the presence of that good, virtuous, learned and
  just president, Brian Vallee, Lord of Douhait.  When there went by a man or
  woman that was either lame, blind of one eye, or humpbacked, he had an
  account brought him of his or her name; and if the syllables of the name
  were of an odd number, immediately, without seeing the persons, he declared
  them to be deformed, blind, lame, or crooked of the right side; and of the
  left, if they were even in number; and such indeed we ever found them.
  
  By this syllabical invention, said Pantagruel, the learned have affirmed
  that Achilles kneeling was wounded by the arrow of Paris in the right heel,
  for his name is of odd syllables (here we ought to observe that the
  ancients used to kneel the right foot); and that Venus was also wounded
  before Troy in the left hand, for her name in Greek is Aphrodite, of four
  syllables; Vulcan lamed of his left foot for the same reason; Philip, King
  of Macedon, and Hannibal, blind of the right eye; not to speak of
  sciaticas, broken bellies, and hemicranias, which may be distinguished by
  this Pythagorean reason.
  
  But returning to names:  do but consider how Alexander the Great, son of
  King Philip, of whom we spoke just now, compassed his undertaking merely by
  the interpretation of a name.  He had besieged the strong city of Tyre, and
  for several weeks battered it with all his power; but all in vain.  His
  engines and attempts were still baffled by the Tyrians, which made him
  finally resolve to raise the siege, to his great grief; foreseeing the
  great stain which such a shameful retreat would be to his reputation.  In
  this anxiety and agitation of mind he fell asleep and dreamed that a satyr
  was come into his tent, capering, skipping, and tripping it up and down,
  with his goatish hoofs, and that he strove to lay hold on him.  But the
  satyr still slipped from him, till at last, having penned him up into a
  corner, he took him.  With this he awoke, and telling his dream to the
  philosophers and sages of his court, they let him know that it was a
  promise of victory from the gods, and that he should soon be master of
  Tyre; the word satyros divided in two being sa Tyros, and signifying Tyre
  is thine; and in truth, at the next onset, he took the town by storm, and
  by a complete victory reduced that stubborn people to subjection.
  
  On the other hand, see how, by the signification of one word, Pompey fell
  into despair.  Being overcome by Caesar at the battle of Pharsalia, he had
  no other way left to escape but by flight; which attempting by sea, he
  arrived near the island of Cyprus, and perceived on the shore near the city
  of Paphos a beautiful and stately palace; now asking the pilot what was the
  name of it, he told him that it was called kakobasilea, that is, evil king;
  which struck such a dread and terror in him that he fell into despair, as
  being assured of losing shortly his life; insomuch that his complaints,
  sighs, and groans were heard by the mariners and other passengers.  And
  indeed, a while after, a certain strange peasant, called Achillas, cut off
  his head.
  
  To all these examples might be added what happened to L. Paulus Emilius
  when the senate elected him imperator, that is, chief of the army which
  they sent against Perses, King of Macedon.  That evening returning home to
  prepare for his expedition, and kissing a little daughter of his called
  Trasia, she seemed somewhat sad to him.  What is the matter, said he, my
  chicken?  Why is my Trasia thus sad and melancholy?  Daddy, replied the
  child, Persa is dead.  This was the name of a little bitch which she loved
  mightily.  Hearing this, Paulus took assurance of a victory over Perses.
  
  If time would permit us to discourse of the sacred Hebrew writ, we might
  find a hundred noted passages evidently showing how religiously they
  observed proper names and their significations.
  
  He had hardly ended this discourse, when the two colonels arrived with
  their soldiers, all well armed and resolute.  Pantagruel made them a short
  speech, entreating them to behave themselves bravely in case they were
  attacked; for he could not yet believe that the Chitterlings were so
  treacherous; but he bade them by no means to give the first offence, giving
  them Carnival for the watchword.
  
  
  
  
  How Chitterlings are not to be slighted by men.
  
  You shake your empty noddles now, jolly topers, and do not believe what I
  tell you here, any more than if it were some tale of a tub.  Well, well, I
  cannot help it.  Believe it if you will; if you won't, let it alone.  For
  my part, I very well know what I say.  It was in the Wild Island, in our
  voyage to the Holy Bottle.  I tell you the time and place; what would you
  have more?  I would have you call to mind the strength of the ancient
  giants that undertook to lay the high mountain Pelion on the top of Ossa,
  and set among those the shady Olympus, to dash out the gods' brains,
  unnestle them, and scour their heavenly lodgings.  Theirs was no small
  strength, you may well think, and yet they were nothing but Chitterlings
  from the waist downwards, or at least serpents, not to tell a lie for the
  matter.
  
  The serpent that tempted Eve, too, was of the Chitterling kind, and yet it
  is recorded of him that he was more subtle than any beast of the field.
  Even so are Chitterlings.  Nay, to this very hour they hold in some
  universities that this same tempter was the Chitterling called Ithyphallus,
  into which was transformed bawdy Priapus, arch-seducer of females in
  paradise, that is, a garden, in Greek.
  
  Pray now tell me who can tell but that the Swiss, now so bold and warlike,
  were formerly Chitterlings?  For my part, I would not take my oath to the
  contrary.  The Himantopodes, a nation very famous in Ethiopia, according to
  Pliny's description, are Chitterlings, and nothing else.  If all this will
  not satisfy your worships, or remove your incredulity, I would have you
  forthwith (I mean drinking first, that nothing be done rashly) visit
  Lusignan, Parthenay, Vouant, Mervant, and Ponzauges in Poitou.  There you
  will find a cloud of witnesses, not of your affidavit-men of the right
  stamp, but credible time out of mind, that will take their corporal oath,
  on Rigome's knuckle-bone, that Melusina their founder or foundress, which
  you please, was woman from the head to the prick-purse, and thence
  downwards was a serpentine Chitterling, or if you'll have it otherwise, a
  Chitterlingdized serpent.  She nevertheless had a genteel and noble gait,
  imitated to this very day by your hop-merchants of Brittany, in their
  paspie and country dances.
  
  What do you think was the cause of Erichthonius's being the first inventor
  of coaches, litters, and chariots?  Nothing but because Vulcan had begot
  him with Chitterlingdized legs, which to hide he chose to ride in a litter,
  rather than on horseback; for Chitterlings were not yet in esteem at that
  time.
  
  The Scythian nymph, Ora, was likewise half woman and half Chitterling, and
  yet seemed so beautiful to Jupiter that nothing could serve him but he must
  give her a touch of his godship's kindness; and accordingly he had a brave
  boy by her, called Colaxes; and therefore I would have you leave off
  shaking your empty noddles at this, as if it were a story, and firmly
  believe that nothing is truer than the gospel.
  
  
  
  
  How Friar John joined with the cooks to fight the Chitterlings.
  
  Friar John seeing these furious Chitterlings thus boldly march up, said to
  Pantagruel, Here will be a rare battle of hobby-horses, a pretty kind of
  puppet-show fight, for aught I see.  Oh! what mighty honour and wonderful
  glory will attend our victory!  I would have you only be a bare spectator
  of this fight, and for anything else leave me and my men to deal with them.
  What men? said Pantagruel.  Matter of breviary, replied Friar John.  How
  came Potiphar, who was head-cook of Pharaoh's kitchens, he that bought
  Joseph, and whom the said Joseph might have made a cuckold if he had not
  been a Joseph; how came he, I say, to be made general of all the horse in
  the kingdom of Egypt?  Why was Nabuzardan, King Nebuchadnezzar's head-cook,
  chosen to the exclusion of all other captains to besiege and destroy
  Jerusalem?  I hear you, replied Pantagruel.  By St. Christopher's whiskers,
  said Friar John, I dare lay a wager that it was because they had formerly
  engaged Chitterlings, or men as little valued; whom to rout, conquer, and
  destroy, cooks are without comparison more fit than cuirassiers and
  gendarmes armed at all points, or all the horse and foot in the world.
  
  You put me in mind, said Pantagruel, of what is written amongst the
  facetious and merry sayings of Cicero.  During the more than civil wars
  between Caesar and Pompey, though he was much courted by the first, he
  naturally leaned more to the side of the latter.  Now one day hearing that
  the Pompeians in a certain rencontre had lost a great many men, he took a
  fancy to visit their camp.  There he perceived little strength, less
  courage, but much disorder.  From that time, foreseeing that things would
  go ill with them, as it since happened, he began to banter now one and then
  another, and be very free of his cutting jests; so some of Pompey's
  captains, playing the good fellows to show their assurance, told him, Do
  you see how many eagles we have yet?  (They were then the device of the
  Romans in war.)  They might be of use to you, replied Cicero, if you had to
  do with magpies.
  
  Thus, seeing we are to fight Chitterlings, pursued Pantagruel, you infer
  thence that it is a culinary war, and have a mind to join with the cooks.
  Well, do as you please, I'll stay here in the meantime, and wait for the
  event of the rumpus.
  
  Friar John went that very moment among the sutlers, into the cooks' tents,
  and told them in a pleasing manner:  I must see you crowned with honour and
  triumph this day, my lads; to your arms are reserved such achievements as
  never yet were performed within the memory of man.  Ods-belly, do they make
  nothing of the valiant cooks?  Let us go fight yonder fornicating
  Chitterlings!  I'll be your captain.  But first let's drink, boys.  Come
  on! let us be of good cheer.  Noble captain, returned the kitchen tribe,
  this was spoken like yourself; bravely offered.  Huzza! we are all at your
  excellency's command, and we live and die by you.  Live, live, said Friar
  John, a God's name; but die by no means.  That is the Chitterlings' lot;
  they shall have their bellyful of it.  Come on then, let us put ourselves
  in order; Nabuzardan's the word.
  
  
  
  
  How Friar John fitted up the sow; and of the valiant cooks that went into
  it.
  
  Then, by Friar John's order, the engineers and their workmen fitted up the
  great sow that was in the ship Leathern Bottle.  It was a wonderful
  machine, so contrived that, by means of large engines that were round about
  it in rows, it throw'd forked iron bars and four-squared steel bolts; and
  in its hold two hundred men at least could easily fight, and be sheltered.
  It was made after the model of the sow of Riole, by the means of which
  Bergerac was retaken from the English in the reign of Charles the Sixth.
  
  Here are the names of the noble and valiant cooks who went into the sow, as
  the Greeks did into the Trojan horse:
  
  Sour-sauce.        Crisp-pig.         Carbonado.
  Sweet-meat.        Greasy-slouch.     Sop-in-pan.
  Greedy-gut.        Fat-gut.           Pick-fowl.
  Liquorice-chops.   Bray-mortar.       Mustard-pot.
  Soused-pork.       Lick-sauce.        Hog's-haslet.
  Slap-sauce.        Hog's-foot.        Chopped-phiz.
  Cock-broth.        Hodge-podge.       Gallimaufry.
  Slipslop.
  
  All these noble cooks in their coat-of-arms did bear, in a field gules, a
  larding-pin vert, charged with a chevron argent.
  
  Lard, hog's-lard.  Pinch-lard.        Snatch-lard.
  Nibble-lard.       Top-lard.          Gnaw-lard.
  Filch-lard.        Pick-lard.         Scrape-lard.
  Fat-lard.          Save-lard.         Chew-lard.
  
  Gaillard (by syncope) born near Rambouillet.  The said culinary doctor's
  name was Gaillardlard, in the same manner as you use to say idolatrous for
  idololatrous.
  
  Stiff-lard.        Cut-lard.          Waste-lard.
  Watch-lard.        Mince-lard.        Ogle-lard.
  Sweet-lard.        Dainty-lard.       Weigh-lard.
  Eat-lard.          Fresh-lard.        Gulch-lard.
  Snap-lard.         Rusty-lard.        Eye-lard.
  Catch-lard.
  
  Names unknown among the Marranes and Jews.
  
  Ballocky.          Thirsty.           Porridge-pot.
  Pick-sallat.       Kitchen-stuff.     Lick-dish.
  Broil-rasher.      Verjuice.          Salt-gullet.
  Coney-skin.        Save-dripping.     Snail-dresser.
  Dainty-chops.      Watercress.        Soup-monger.
  Pie-wright.        Scrape-turnip.     Brewis-belly.
  Pudding-pan.       Trivet.            Chine-picker.
  Toss-pot.          Monsieur Ragout.   Suck-gravy.
  Mustard-sauce.     Crack-pipkin.      Macaroon.
  Claret-sauce.      Scrape-pot.        Skewer-maker.
  Swill-broth.
  
  Smell-smock.  He was afterwards taken from the kitchen and removed to
  chamber-practice, for the service of the noble Cardinal Hunt-venison.
  
  Rot-roast.         Hog's gullet.      Fox-tail.
  Dish-clout.        Sirloin.           Fly-flap.
  Save-suet.         Spit-mutton.       Old Grizzle.
  Fire-fumbler.      Fritter-frier.     Ruff-belly.
  Pillicock.         Flesh-smith.       Saffron-sauce.
  Long-tool.         Cram-gut.          Strutting-tom.
  Prick-pride.       Tuzzy-mussy.       Slashed-snout.
  Prick-madam.       Jacket-liner.      Smutty-face.
  Pricket.           Guzzle-drink.
  
  Mondam, that first invented madam's sauce, and for that discovery was thus
  called in the Scotch-French dialect.
  
  Loblolly.          Sloven.            Trencher-man.
  Slabber-chops.     Swallow-pitcher.   Goodman Goosecap.
  Scum-pot.          Wafer-monger.      Munch-turnip.
  Gully-guts.        Snap-gobbet.       Pudding-bag.
  Rinse-pot.         Scurvy-phiz.       Pig-sticker.
  Drink-spiller.
  
  Robert.  He invented Robert's sauce, so good and necessary for roasted
  coneys, ducks, fresh pork, poached eggs, salt fish, and a thousand other
  such dishes.
  
  Cold-eel.          Frying-pan.        Big-snout.
  Thornback.         Man of dough.      Lick-finger.
  Gurnard.           Sauce-doctor.      Tit-bit.
  Grumbling-gut.     Waste-butter.      Sauce-box.
  Alms-scrip.        Shitbreech.        All-fours.
  Taste-all.         Thick-brawn.       Whimwham.
  Scrap-merchant.    Tom T--d.          Baste-roast.
  Belly-timberman.   Mouldy-crust.      Gaping-hoyden.
  Hashee.            Hasty.             Calf's-pluck.
  Frig-palate.       Red-herring.       Leather-breeches.
  Powdering-tub.     Cheesecake.
  
  All these noble cooks went into the sow, merry, cheery, hale, brisk, old
  dogs at mischief, and ready to fight stoutly.  Friar John ever and anon
  waving his huge scimitar, brought up the rear, and double-locked the doors
  on the inside.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel broke the Chitterlings at the knees.
  
  The Chitterlings advanced so near that Pantagruel perceived that they
  stretched their arms and already began to charge their lances, which caused
  him to send Gymnast to know what they meant, and why they thus, without the
  least provocation, came to fall upon their old trusty friends, who had
  neither said nor done the least ill thing to them.  Gymnast being advanced
  near their front, bowed very low, and said to them as loud as ever he
  could:  We are friends, we are friends; all, all of us your friends, yours,
  and at your command; we are for Carnival, your old confederate.  Some have
  since told me that he mistook, and said cavernal instead of carnival.
  
  Whatever it was, the word was no sooner out of his mouth but a huge little
  squab Sausage, starting out of the front of their main body, would have
  griped him by the collar.  By the helmet of Mars, said Gymnast, I will
  swallow thee; but thou shalt only come in in chips and slices; for, big as
  thou art, thou couldst never come in whole.  This spoke, he lugs out his
  trusty sword, Kiss-mine-arse (so he called it) with both his fists, and cut
  the Sausage in twain.  Bless me, how fat the foul thief was! it puts me in
  mind of the huge bull of Berne, that was slain at Marignan when the drunken
  Swiss were so mauled there.  Believe me, it had little less than four
  inches' lard on its paunch.
  
  The Sausage's job being done, a crowd of others flew upon Gymnast, and had
  most scurvily dragged him down when Pantagruel with his men came up to his
  relief.  Then began the martial fray, higgledy-piggledy.  Maul-chitterling
  did maul chitterlings; Cut-pudding did cut puddings; Pantagruel did break
  the Chitterlings at the knees; Friar John played at least in sight within
  his sow, viewing and observing all things; when the Pattipans that lay in
  ambuscade most furiously sallied out upon Pantagruel.
  
  Friar John, who lay snug all this while, by that time perceiving the rout
  and hurlyburly, set open the doors of his sow and sallied out with his
  merry Greeks, some of them armed with iron spits, others with andirons,
  racks, fire-shovels, frying-pans, kettles, grid-irons, oven forks, tongs,
  dripping pans, brooms, iron pots, mortars, pestles, all in battle array,
  like so many housebreakers, hallooing and roaring out all together most
  frightfully, Nabuzardan, Nabuzardan, Nabuzardan.  Thus shouting and hooting
  they fought like dragons, and charged through the Pattipans and Sausages.
  The Chitterlings perceiving this fresh reinforcement, and that the others
  would be too hard for 'em, betook themselves to their heels, scampering off
  with full speed, as if the devil had come for them.  Friar John, with an
  iron crow, knocked them down as fast as hops; his men, too, were not
  sparing on their side.  Oh, what a woeful sight it was! the field was all
  over strewed with heaps of dead or wounded Chitterlings; and history
  relates that had not heaven had a hand in it, the Chitterling tribe had
  been totally routed out of the world by the culinary champions.  But there
  happened a wonderful thing, you may believe as little or as much of it as
  you please.
  
  From the north flew towards us a huge, fat, thick, grizzly swine, with long
  and large wings, like those of a windmill; its plumes red crimson, like
  those of a phenicoptere (which in Languedoc they call flaman); its eyes
  were red, and flaming like a carbuncle; its ears green, like a Prasin
  emerald; its teeth like a topaz; its tail long and black, like jet; its
  feet white, diaphanous and transparent like a diamond, somewhat broad, and
  of the splay kind, like those of geese, and as Queen Dick's used to be at
  Toulouse in the days of yore.  About its neck it wore a gold collar, round
  which were some Ionian characters, whereof I could pick out but two words,
  US ATHENAN, hog-teaching Minerva.
  
  The sky was clear before; but at that monster's appearance it changed so
  mightily for the worse that we were all amazed at it.  As soon as the
  Chitterlings perceived the flying hog, down they all threw their weapons
  and fell on their knees, lifting up their hands joined together, without
  speaking one word, in a posture of adoration.  Friar John and his party
  kept on mincing, felling, braining, mangling, and spitting the Chitterlings
  like mad; but Pantagruel sounded a retreat, and all hostility ceased.
  
  The monster having several times hovered backwards and forwards between the
  two armies, with a tail-shot voided above twenty-seven butts of mustard on
  the ground; then flew away through the air, crying all the while, Carnival,
  Carnival, Carnival.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel held a treaty with Niphleseth, Queen of the Chitterlings.
  
  The monster being out of sight, and the two armies remaining silent,
  Pantagruel demanded a parley with the lady Niphleseth, Queen of the
  Chitterlings, who was in her chariot by the standards; and it was easily
  granted.  The queen alighted, courteously received Pantagruel, and was glad
  to see him.  Pantagruel complained to her of this breach of peace; but she
  civilly made her excuse, telling him that a false information had caused
  all this mischief; her spies having brought her word that Shrovetide, their
  mortal foe, was landed, and spent his time in examining the urine of
  physeters.
  
  She therefore entreated him to pardon them their offence, telling him that
  sir-reverence was sooner found in Chitterlings than gall; and offering, for
  herself and all her successors, to hold of him and his the whole island and
  country; to obey him in all his commands, be friends to his friends, and
  foes to his foes; and also to send every year, as an acknowledgment of
  their homage, a tribute of seventy-eight thousand royal Chitterlings, to
  serve him at his first course at table six months in the year; which was
  punctually performed.  For the next day she sent the aforesaid quantity of
  royal Chitterlings to the good Gargantua, under the conduct of young
  Niphleseth, infanta of the island.
  
  The good Gargantua made a present of them to the great King of Paris.  But
  by change of air, and for want of mustard (the natural balsam and restorer
  of Chitterlings), most of them died.  By the great king's particular grant
  they were buried in heaps in a part of Paris to this day called La Rue
  pavee d'Andouilles, the street paved with Chitterlings.  At the request of
  the ladies at his court young Niphleseth was preserved, honourably used,
  and since that married to heart's content; and was the mother of many
  children, for which heaven be praised.
  
  Pantagruel civilly thanked the queen, forgave all offences, refused the
  offer she had made of her country, and gave her a pretty little knife.
  After that he asked several nice questions concerning the apparition of
  that flying hog.  She answered that it was the idea of Carnival, their
  tutelary god in time of war, first founder and original of all the
  Chitterling race; for which reason he resembled a hog, for Chitterlings
  drew their extraction from hogs.
  
  Pantagruel asking to what purpose and curative indication he had voided so
  much mustard on the earth, the queen replied that mustard was their
  sanc-greal and celestial balsam, of which, laying but a little in the wounds
  of the fallen Chitterlings, in a very short time the wounded were healed and
  the dead restored to life.  Pantagruel held no further discourse with the
  queen, but retired a-shipboard.  The like did all the boon companions, with
  their implements of destruction and their huge sow.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel went into the island of Ruach.
  
  Two days after we arrived at the island of Ruach; and I swear to you, by
  the celestial hen and chickens, that I found the way of living of the
  people so strange and wonderful that I can't, for the heart's blood of me,
  half tell it you.  They live on nothing but wind, eat nothing but wind, and
  drink nothing but wind.  They have no other houses but weathercocks.  They
  sow no other seeds but the three sorts of windflowers, rue, and herbs that
  may make one break wind to the purpose; these scour them off carefully.
  The common sort of people to feed themselves make use of feather, paper, or
  linen fans, according to their abilities.  As for the rich, they live by
  the means of windmills.
  
  When they would have some noble treat, the tables are spread under one or
  two windmills.  There they feast as merry as beggars, and during the meal
  their whole talk is commonly of the goodness, excellency, salubrity, and
  rarity of winds; as you, jolly topers, in your cups philosophize and argue
  upon wines.  The one praises the south-east, the other the south-west; this
  the west and by south, and this the east and by north; another the west,
  and another the east; and so of the rest.  As for lovers and amorous
  sparks, no gale for them like a smock-gale.  For the sick they use bellows
  as we use clysters among us.
  
  Oh! said to me a little diminutive swollen bubble, that I had now but a
  bladderful of that same Languedoc wind which they call Cierce.  The famous
  physician, Scurron, passing one day by this country, was telling us that it
  is so strong that it will make nothing of overturning a loaded waggon.  Oh!
  what good would it not do my Oedipodic leg.  The biggest are not the best;
  but, said Panurge, rather would I had here a large butt of that same good
  Languedoc wine that grows at Mirevaux, Canteperdrix, and Frontignan.
  
  I saw a good likely sort of a man there, much resembling Ventrose, tearing
  and fuming in a grievous fret with a tall burly groom and a pimping little
  page of his, laying them on, like the devil, with a buskin.  Not knowing
  the cause of his anger, at first I thought that all this was by the
  doctor's advice, as being a thing very healthy to the master to be in a
  passion and to his man to be banged for it.  But at last I heard him taxing
  his man with stealing from him, like a rogue as he was, the better half of
  a large leathern bag of an excellent southerly wind, which he had carefully
  laid up, like a hidden reserve, against the cold weather.
  
  They neither exonerate, dung, piss, nor spit in that island; but, to make
  amends, they belch, fizzle, funk, and give tail-shots in abundance.  They
  are troubled with all manner of distempers; and, indeed, all distempers are
  engendered and proceed from ventosities, as Hippocrates demonstrates, lib.
  De Flatibus.  But the most epidemical among them is the wind-cholic.  The
  remedies which they use are large clysters, whereby they void store of
  windiness.  They all die of dropsies and tympanies, the men farting and the
  women fizzling; so that their soul takes her leave at the back-door.
  
  Some time after, walking in the island, we met three hairbrained airy
  fellows, who seemed mightily puffed up, and went to take their pastime and
  view the plovers, who live on the same diet as themselves, and abound in
  the island.  I observed that, as your true topers when they travel carry
  flasks, leathern bottles, and small runlets along with them, so each of
  them had at his girdle a pretty little pair of bellows.  If they happened
  to want wind, by the help of those pretty bellows they immediately drew
  some, fresh and cool, by attraction and reciprocal expulsion; for, as you
  well know, wind essentially defined is nothing but fluctuating and agitated
  air.
  
  A while after, we were commanded, in the king's name, not to receive for
  three hours any man or woman of the country on board our ships; some having
  stolen from him a rousing fart, of the very individual wind which old
  goodman Aeolus the snorer gave Ulysses to conduct his ship whenever it
  should happen to be becalmed.  Which fart the king kept religiously, like
  another sanc-greal, and performed a world of wonderful cures with it in
  many dangerous diseases, letting loose and distributing to the patient only
  as much of it as might frame a virginal fart; which is, if you must know,
  what our sanctimonials, alias nuns, in their dialect call ringing
  backwards.
  
  
  
  
  How small rain lays a high wind.
  
  Pantagruel commended their government and way of living, and said to their
  hypenemian mayor:  If you approve Epicurus's opinion, placing the summum
  bonum in pleasure (I mean pleasure that's easy and free from toil), I
  esteem you happy; for your food being wind, costs you little or nothing,
  since you need but blow.  True, sir, returned the mayor; but, alas! nothing
  is perfect here below; for too often when we are at table, feeding on some
  good blessed wind of God as on celestial manna, merry as so many friars,
  down drops on a sudden some small rain, which lays our wind, and so robs us
  of it.  Thus many a meal's lost for want of meat.
  
  Just so, quoth Panurge, Jenin Toss-pot of Quinquenais, evacuating some wine
  of his own burning on his wife's posteriors, laid the ill-fumed wind that
  blowed out of their centre as out of some magisterial Aeolipile.  Here is a
  kind of a whim on that subject which I made formerly:
  
    One evening when Toss-pot had been at his butts,
    And Joan his fat spouse crammed with turnips her guts,
    Together they pigged, nor did drink so besot him
    But he did what was done when his daddy begot him.
    Now when to recruit he'd fain have been snoring,
    Joan's back-door was filthily puffing and roaring;
    So for spite he bepissed her, and quickly did find
    That a very small rain lays a very high wind.
  
  We are also plagued yearly with a very great calamity, cried the mayor; for
  a giant called Wide-nostrils, who lives in the island of Tohu, comes hither
  every spring to purge, by the advice of his physicians, and swallows us,
  like so many pills, a great number of windmills, and of bellows also, at
  which his mouth waters exceedingly.
  
  Now this is a sad mortification to us here, who are fain to fast over three
  or four whole Lents every year for this, besides certain petty Lents, ember
  weeks, and other orison and starving tides.  And have you no remedy for
  this? asked Pantagruel.  By the advice of our Mezarims, replied the mayor,
  about the time that he uses to give us a visit, we garrison our windmills
  with good store of cocks and hens.  The first time that the greedy thief
  swallowed them, they had like to have done his business at once; for they
  crowed and cackled in his maw, and fluttered up and down athwart and along
  in his stomach, which threw the glutton into a lipothymy cardiac passion
  and dreadful and dangerous convulsions, as if some serpent, creeping in at
  his mouth, had been frisking in his stomach.
  
  Here is a comparative as altogether incongruous and impertinent, cried
  Friar John, interrupting them; for I have formerly heard that if a serpent
  chance to get into a man's stomach it will not do him the least hurt, but
  will immediately get out if you do but hang the patient by the heels and
  lay a panful of warm milk near his mouth.  You were told this, said
  Pantagruel, and so were those who gave you this account; but none ever saw
  or read of such a cure.  On the contrary, Hippocrates, in his fifth book of
  Epidem, writes that such a case happening in his time the patient presently
  died of a spasm and convulsion.
  
  Besides the cocks and hens, said the mayor, continuing his story, all the
  foxes in the country whipped into Wide-nostril's mouth, posting after the
  poultry; which made such a stir with Reynard at their heels, that he
  grievously fell into fits each minute of an hour.
  
  At last, by the advice of a Baden enchanter, at the time of the paroxysm he
  used to flay a fox by way of antidote and counter-poison.  Since that he
  took better advice, and eases himself with taking a clyster made with a
  decoction of wheat and barley corns, and of livers of goslings; to the
  first of which the poultry run, and the foxes to the latter.  Besides, he
  swallows some of your badgers or fox-dogs by the way of pills and boluses.
  This is our misfortune.
  
  Cease to fear, good people, cried Pantagruel; this huge Wide-nostrils, this
  same swallower of windmills, is no more, I will assure you; he died, being
  stifled and choked with a lump of fresh butter at the mouth of a hot oven,
  by the advice of his physicians.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel went ashore in the island of Pope-Figland.
  
  The next morning we arrived at the island of Pope-figs; formerly a rich and
  free people, called the Gaillardets, but now, alas! miserably poor, and
  under the yoke of the Papimen.  The occasion of it was this:
  
  On a certain yearly high holiday, the burgomaster, syndics, and topping
  rabbies of the Gaillardets chanced to go into the neighbouring island
  Papimany to see the festival and pass away the time.  Now one of them
  having espied the pope's picture (with the sight of which, according to a
  laudable custom, the people were blessed on high-offering holidays), made
  mouths at it, and cried, A fig for it! as a sign of manifest contempt and
  derision.  To be revenged of this affront, the Papimen, some days after,
  without giving the others the least warning, took arms, and surprised,
  destroyed, and ruined the whole island of the Gaillardets; putting the men
  to the sword, and sparing none but the women and children, and those too
  only on condition to do what the inhabitants of Milan were condemned to by
  the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa.
  
  These had rebelled against him in his absence, and ignominiously turned the
  empress out of the city, mounting her a-horseback on a mule called Thacor,
  with her breech foremost towards the old jaded mule's head, and her face
  turned towards the crupper.  Now Frederick being returned, mastered them,
  and caused so careful a search to be made that he found out and got the
  famous mule Thacor.  Then the hangman by his order clapped a fig into the
  mule's jimcrack, in the presence of the enslaved cits that were brought
  into the middle of the great market-place, and proclaimed in the emperor's
  name, with trumpets, that whosoever of them would save his own life should
  publicly pull the fig out with his teeth, and after that put it in again in
  the very individual cranny whence he had draw'd it without using his hands,
  and that whoever refused to do this should presently swing for it and die
  in his shoes.  Some sturdy fools, standing upon their punctilio, chose
  honourably to be hanged rather than submit to so shameful and abominable a
  disgrace; and others, less nice in point of ceremony, took heart of grace,
  and even resolved to have at the fig, and a fig for't, rather than make a
  worse figure with a hempen collar, and die in the air at so short warning.
  Accordingly, when they had neatly picked out the fig with their teeth from
  old Thacor's snatch-blatch, they plainly showed it the headsman, saying,
  Ecco lo fico, Behold the fig!
  
  By the same ignominy the rest of these poor distressed Gaillardets saved
  their bacon, becoming tributaries and slaves, and the name of Pope-figs was
  given them, because they said, A fig for the pope's image.  Since this, the
  poor wretches never prospered, but every year the devil was at their doors,
  and they were plagued with hail, storms, famine, and all manner of woes, as
  an everlasting punishment for the sin of their ancestors and relations.
  Perceiving the misery and calamity of that generation, we did not care to
  go further up into the country, contenting ourselves with going into a
  little chapel near the haven to take some holy water.  It was dilapidated
  and ruined, wanting also a cover--like Saint Peter at Rome.  When we were
  in, as we dipped our fingers in the sanctified cistern, we spied in the
  middle of that holy pickle a fellow muffled up with stoles, all under
  water, like a diving duck, except the tip of his snout to draw his breath.
  About him stood three priests, true shavelings, clean shorn and polled, who
  were muttering strange words to the devils out of a conjuring book.
  
  Pantagruel was not a little amazed at this, and inquiring what kind of
  sport these were at, was told that for three years last past the plague had
  so dreadfully raged in the island that the better half of it had been
  utterly depopulated, and the lands lay fallow and unoccupied.  Now, the
  mortality being over, this same fellow who had crept into the holy tub,
  having a large piece of ground, chanced to be sowing it with white winter
  wheat at the very minute of an hour that a kind of a silly sucking devil,
  who could not yet write or read, or hail and thunder, unless it were on
  parsley or coleworts, and got leave of his master Lucifer to go into this
  island of Pope-figs, where the devils were very familiar with the men and
  women, and often went to take their pastime.
  
  This same devil being got thither, directed his discourse to the
  husbandman, and asked him what he was doing.  The poor man told him that he
  was sowing the ground with corn to help him to subsist the next year.  Ay,
  but the ground is none of thine, Mr. Plough-jobber, cried the devil, but
  mine; for since the time that you mocked the pope all this land has been
  proscribed, adjudged, and abandoned to us.  However, to sow corn is not my
  province; therefore I will give thee leave to sow the field, that is to
  say, provided we share the profit.  I will, replied the farmer.  I mean,
  said the devil, that of what the land shall bear, two lots shall be made,
  one of what shall grow above ground, the other of what shall be covered
  with earth.  The right of choosing belongs to me; for I am a devil of noble
  and ancient race; thou art a base clown.  I therefore choose what shall lie
  under ground, take thou what shall be above.  When dost thou reckon to
  reap, hah?  About the middle of July, quoth the farmer.  Well, said the
  devil, I'll not fail thee then; in the meantime, slave as thou oughtest.
  Work, clown, work.  I am going to tempt to the pleasing sin of whoring the
  nuns of Dryfart, the sham saints of the cowl, and the gluttonish crew.  I
  am more than sure of these.  They need but meet, and the job is done; true
  fire and tinder, touch and take; down falls nun, and up gets friar.
  
  
  
  
  How a junior devil was fooled by a husbandman of Pope-Figland.
  
  In the middle of July the devil came to the place aforesaid with all his
  crew at his heels, a whole choir of the younger fry of hell; and having met
  the farmer, said to him, Well, clodpate, how hast thou done since I went?
  Thou and I must share the concern.  Ay, master devil, quoth the clown; it
  is but reason we should.  Then he and his men began to cut and reap the
  corn; and, on the other side, the devil's imps fell to work, grubbing up
  and pulling out the stubble by the root.
  
  The countryman had his corn thrashed, winnowed it, put in into sacks, and
  went with it to market.  The same did the devil's servants, and sat them
  down there by the man to sell their straw.  The countryman sold off his
  corn at a good rate, and with the money filled an old kind of a demi-buskin
  which was fastened to his girdle.  But the devil a sou the devils took; far
  from taking handsel, they were flouted and jeered by the country louts.
  
  Market being over, quoth the devil to the farmer, Well, clown, thou hast
  choused me once, it is thy fault; chouse me twice, 'twill be mine.  Nay,
  good sir devil, replied the farmer; how can I be said to have choused you,
  since it was your worship that chose first?  The truth is, that by this
  trick you thought to cheat me, hoping that nothing would spring out of the
  earth for my share, and that you should find whole underground the corn
  which I had sowed, and with it tempt the poor and needy, the close
  hypocrite, or the covetous griper; thus making them fall into your snares.
  But troth, you must e'en go to school yet; you are no conjurer, for aught I
  see; for the corn that was sow'd is dead and rotten, its corruption having
  caused the generation of that which you saw me sell.  So you chose the
  worst, and therefore are cursed in the gospel.  Well, talk no more of it,
  quoth the devil; what canst thou sow our field with for next year?  If a
  man would make the best of it, answered the ploughman, 'twere fit he sow it
  with radish.  Now, cried the devil, thou talkest like an honest fellow,
  bumpkin.  Well, sow me good store of radish, I'll see and keep them safe
  from storms, and will not hail a bit on them.  But hark ye me, this time I
  bespeak for my share what shall be above ground; what's under shall be
  thine.  Drudge on, looby, drudge on.  I am going to tempt heretics; their
  souls are dainty victuals when broiled in rashers and well powdered.  My
  Lord Lucifer has the griping in the guts; they'll make a dainty warm dish
  for his honour's maw.
  
  When the season of radishes was come, our devil failed not to meet in the
  field, with a train of rascally underlings, all waiting devils, and finding
  there the farmer and his men, he began to cut and gather the leaves of the
  radishes.  After him the farmer with his spade dug up the radishes, and
  clapped them up into pouches.  This done, the devil, the farmer, and their
  gangs, hied them to market, and there the farmer presently made good money
  of his radishes; but the poor devil took nothing; nay, what was worse, he
  was made a common laughing-stock by the gaping hoidens.  I see thou hast
  played me a scurvy trick, thou villainous fellow, cried the angry devil; at
  last I am fully resolved even to make an end of the business betwixt thee
  and myself about the ground, and these shall be the terms:  we will
  clapperclaw each other, and whoever of us two shall first cry Hold, shall
  quit his share of the field, which shall wholly belong to the conqueror.  I
  fix the time for this trial of skill on this day seven-night; assure
  thyself that I'll claw thee off like a devil.  I was going to tempt your
  fornicators, bailiffs, perplexers of causes, scriveners, forgers of deeds,
  two-handed counsellors, prevaricating solicitors, and other such vermin;
  but they were so civil as to send me word by an interpreter that they are
  all mine already.  Besides, our master Lucifer is so cloyed with their
  souls that he often sends them back to the smutty scullions and slovenly
  devils of his kitchen, and they scarce go down with them, unless now and
  then, when they are high-seasoned.
  
  Some say there is no breakfast like a student's, no dinner like a lawyer's,
  no afternoon's nunchion like a vine-dresser's, no supper like a
  tradesman's, no second supper like a serving-wench's, and none of these
  meals equal to a frockified hobgoblin's.  All this is true enough.
  Accordingly, at my Lord Lucifer's first course, hobgoblins, alias imps in
  cowls, are a standing dish.  He willingly used to breakfast on students;
  but, alas!  I do not know by what ill luck they have of late years joined
  the Holy Bible to their studies; so the devil a one we can get down among
  us; and I verily believe that unless the hypocrites of the tribe of Levi
  help us in it, taking from the enlightened book-mongers their St. Paul,
  either by threats, revilings, force, violence, fire, and faggot, we shall
  not be able to hook in any more of them to nibble at below.  He dines
  commonly on counsellors, mischief-mongers, multipliers of lawsuits, such as
  wrest and pervert right and law and grind and fleece the poor; he never
  fears to want any of these.  But who can endure to be wedded to a dish?
  
  He said t'other day, at a full chapter, that he had a great mind to eat the
  soul of one of the fraternity of the cowl that had forgot to speak for
  himself in his sermon, and he promised double pay and a large pension to
  anyone that should bring him such a titbit piping hot.  We all went
  a-hunting after such a rarity, but came home without the prey; for they all
  admonish the good women to remember their convent.  As for afternoon
  nunchions, he has left them off since he was so woefully griped with the
  colic; his fosterers, sutlers, charcoal-men, and boiling cooks having been
  sadly mauled and peppered off in the northern countries.
  
  His high devilship sups very well on tradesmen, usurers, apothecaries,
  cheats, coiners, and adulterers of wares.  Now and then, when he is on the
  merry pin, his second supper is of serving-wenches who, after they have by
  stealth soaked their faces with their master's good liquor, fill up the
  vessel with it at second hand, or with other stinking water.
  
  Well, drudge on, boor, drudge on; I am going to tempt the students of
  Trebisonde to leave father and mother, forego for ever the established and
  common rule of living, disclaim and free themselves from obeying their
  lawful sovereign's edicts, live in absolute liberty, proudly despise
  everyone, laugh at all mankind, and taking the fine jovial little cap of
  poetic licence, become so many pretty hobgoblins.
  
  
  
  
  How the devil was deceived by an old woman of Pope-Figland.
  
  The country lob trudged home very much concerned and thoughtful, you may
  swear; insomuch that his good woman, seeing him thus look moping, weened
  that something had been stolen from him at market; but when she had heard
  the cause of his affliction and seen his budget well lined with coin, she
  bade him be of good cheer, assuring him that he would be never the worse
  for the scratching bout in question; wishing him only to leave her to
  manage that business, and not trouble his head about it; for she had
  already contrived how to bring him off cleverly.  Let the worst come to the
  worst, said the husbandman, it will be but a scratch; for I'll yield at the
  first stroke, and quit the field.  Quit a fart, replied the wife; he shall
  have none of the field.  Rely upon me, and be quiet; let me alone to deal
  with him.  You say he is a pimping little devil, that is enough; I will
  soon make him give up the field, I will warrant you.  Indeed, had he been a
  great devil, it had been somewhat.
  
  The day that we landed in the island happened to be that which the devil
  had fixed for the combat.  Now the countryman having, like a good Catholic,
  very fairly confessed himself, and received betimes in the morning, by the
  advice of the vicar had hid himself, all but the snout, in the holy-water
  pot, in the posture in which we found him; and just as they were telling us
  this story, news came that the old woman had fooled the devil and gained
  the field.  You may not be sorry, perhaps, to hear how this happened.
  
  The devil, you must know, came to the poor man's door, and rapping there,
  cried, So ho! ho, the house! ho, clodpate! where art thou?  Come out with a
  vengeance; come out with a wannion; come out and be damned; now for
  clawing.  Then briskly and resolutely entering the house, and not finding
  the countryman there, he spied his wife lying on the ground, piteously
  weeping and howling.  What is the matter? asked the devil.  Where is he?
  what does he?  Oh! that I knew where he is, replied threescore and five;
  the wicked rogue, the butcherly dog, the murderer!  He has spoiled me; I am
  undone; I die of what he has done me.  How, cried the devil, what is it?
  I'll tickle him off for you by-and-by.  Alas! cried the old dissembler, he
  told me, the butcher, the tyrant, the tearer of devils told me that he had
  made a match to scratch with you this day, and to try his claws he did but
  just touch me with his little finger here betwixt the legs, and has spoiled
  me for ever.  Oh! I am a dead woman; I shall never be myself again; do but
  see!  Nay, and besides, he talked of going to the smith's to have his
  pounces sharpened and pointed.  Alas! you are undone, Mr. Devil; good sir,
  scamper quickly, I am sure he won't stay; save yourself, I beseech you.
  While she said this she uncovered herself up to the chin, after the manner
  in which the Persian women met their children who fled from the fight, and
  plainly showed her what do ye call them.  The frightened devil, seeing the
  enormous solution of the continuity in all its dimensions, blessed himself,
  and cried out, Mahon, Demiourgon, Megaera, Alecto, Persephone! 'slife,
  catch me here when he comes!  I am gone! 'sdeath, what a gash!  I resign
  him the field.
  
  Having heard the catastrophe of the story, we retired a-shipboard, not
  being willing to stay there any longer.  Pantagruel gave to the poor's box
  of the fabric of the church eighteen thousand good royals, in commiseration
  of the poverty of the people and the calamity of the place.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel went ashore at the island of Papimany.
  
  Having left the desolate island of the Pope-figs, we sailed for the space
  of a day very fairly and merrily, and made the blessed island of Papimany.
  As soon as we had dropt anchor in the road, before we had well moored our
  ship with ground-tackle, four persons in different garbs rowed towards us
  in a skiff.  One of them was dressed like a monk in his frock,
  draggle-tailed, and booted; the other like a falconer, with a lure, and a
  long-winged hawk on his fist; the third like a solicitor, with a large bag,
  full of informations, subpoenas, breviates, bills, writs, cases, and other
  implements of pettifogging; the fourth looked like one of your vine-barbers
  about Ocleans, with a jaunty pair of canvas trousers, a dosser, and a
  pruning knife at his girdle.
  
  As soon as the boat had clapped them on board, they all with one voice
  asked, Have you seen him, good passengers, have you seen him?  Who? asked
  Pantagruel.  You know who, answered they.  Who is it? asked Friar John.
  'Sblood and 'ounds, I'll thrash him thick and threefold.  This he said
  thinking that they inquired after some robber, murderer, or church-breaker.
  Oh, wonderful! cried the four; do not you foreign people know the one?
  Sirs, replied Epistemon, we do not understand those terms; but if you will
  be pleased to let us know who you mean, we will tell you the truth of the
  matter without any more ado.  We mean, said they, he that is.  Did you ever
  see him?  He that is, returned Pantagruel, according to our theological
  doctrine, is God, who said to Moses, I am that I am.  We never saw him, nor
  can he be beheld by mortal eyes.  We mean nothing less than that supreme
  God who rules in heaven, replied they; we mean the god on earth.  Did you
  ever see him?  Upon my honour, replied Carpalin, they mean the pope.  Ay,
  ay, answered Panurge; yea, verily, gentlemen, I have seen three of them,
  whose sight has not much bettered me.  How! cried they, our sacred
  decretals inform us that there never is more than one living.  I mean
  successively, one after the other, returned Panurge; otherwise I never saw
  more than one at a time.
  
  O thrice and four times happy people! cried they; you are welcome, and more
  than double welcome!  They then kneeled down before us and would have
  kissed our feet, but we would not suffer it, telling them that should the
  pope come thither in his own person, 'tis all they could do to him.  No,
  certainly, answered they, for we have already resolved upon the matter.  We
  would kiss his bare arse without boggling at it, and eke his two pounders;
  for he has a pair of them, the holy father, that he has; we find it so by
  our fine decretals, otherwise he could not be pope.  So that, according to
  our subtle decretaline philosophy, this is a necessary consequence:  he is
  pope; therefore he has genitories, and should genitories no more be found
  in the world, the world could no more have a pope.
  
  While they were talking thus, Pantagruel inquired of one of the coxswain's
  crew who those persons were.  He answered that they were the four estates
  of the island, and added that we should be made as welcome as princes,
  since we had seen the pope.  Panurge having been acquainted with this by
  Pantagruel, said to him in his ear, I swear and vow, sir, 'tis even so; he
  that has patience may compass anything.  Seeing the pope had done us no
  good; now, in the devil's name, 'twill do us a great deal.  We then went
  ashore, and the whole country, men, women, and children, came to meet us as
  in a solemn procession.  Our four estates cried out to them with a loud
  voice, They have seen him! they have seen him! they have seen him!  That
  proclamation being made, all the mob kneeled before us, lifting up their
  hands towards heaven, and crying, O happy men!  O most happy! and this
  acclamation lasted above a quarter of an hour.
  
  Then came the Busby (!) of the place, with all his pedagogues, ushers, and
  schoolboys, whom he magisterially flogged, as they used to whip children in
  our country formerly when some criminal was hanged, that they might
  remember it.  This displeased Pantagruel, who said to them, Gentlemen, if
  you do not leave off whipping these poor children, I am gone.  The people
  were amazed, hearing his stentorian voice; and I saw a little hump with
  long fingers say to the hypodidascal, What, in the name of wonder! do all
  those that see the pope grow as tall as yon huge fellow that threatens us?
  Ah! how I shall think time long till I have seen him too, that I may grow
  and look as big.  In short, the acclamations were so great that Homenas (so
  they called their bishop) hastened thither on an unbridled mule with green
  trappings, attended by his apposts (as they said) and his supposts, or
  officers bearing crosses, banners, standards, canopies, torches, holy-water
  pots, &c.  He too wanted to kiss our feet (as the good Christian Valfinier
  did to Pope Clement), saying that one of their hypothetes, that's one of
  the scavengers, scourers, and commentators of their holy decretals, had
  written that, in the same manner as the Messiah, so long and so much
  expected by the Jews, at last appeared among them; so, on some happy day of
  God, the pope would come into that island; and that, while they waited for
  that blessed time, if any who had seen him at Rome or elsewhere chanced to
  come among them, they should be sure to make much of them, feast them
  plentifully, and treat them with a great deal of reverence.  However, we
  civilly desired to be excused.
  
  
  
  
  How Homenas, Bishop of Papimany, showed us the Uranopet decretals.
  
  Homenas then said to us:  'Tis enjoined us by our holy decretals to visit
  churches first and taverns after.  Therefore, not to decline that fine
  institution, let us go to church; we will afterwards go and feast
  ourselves.  Man of God, quoth Friar John, do you go before, we'll follow
  you.  You spoke in the matter properly, and like a good Christian; 'tis
  long since we saw any such.  For my part, this rejoices my mind very much,
  and I verily believe that I shall have the better stomach after it.  Well,
  'tis a happy thing to meet with good men!  Being come near the gate of the
  church, we spied a huge thick book, gilt, and covered all over with
  precious stones, as rubies, emeralds, (diamonds,) and pearls, more, or at
  least as valuable as those which Augustus consecrated to Jupiter
  Capitolinus.  This book hanged in the air, being fastened with two thick
  chains of gold to the zoophore of the porch.  We looked on it and admired
  it.  As for Pantagruel, he handled it and dandled it and turned it as he
  pleased, for he could reach it without straining; and he protested that
  whenever he touched it, he was seized with a pleasant tickling at his
  fingers' end, new life and activity in his arms, and a violent temptation
  in his mind to beat one or two sergeants, or such officers, provided they
  were not of the shaveling kind.  Homenas then said to us, The law was
  formerly given to the Jews by Moses, written by God himself.  At Delphos,
  before the portal of Apollo's temple, this sentence, GNOTHI SEAUTON, was
  found written with a divine hand.  And some time after it, EI was also
  seen, and as divinely written and transmitted from heaven. Cybele's image
  was brought out of heaven, into a field called Pessinunt, in Phrygia; so
  was that of Diana to Tauris, if you will believe Euripides; the oriflamme,
  or holy standard, was transmitted out of heaven to the noble and most
  Christian kings of France, to fight against the unbelievers.  In the reign
  of Numa Pompilius, second King of the Romans, the famous copper buckler
  called Ancile was seen to descend from heaven.  At Acropolis, near Athens,
  Minerva's statue formerly fell from the empyreal heaven.  In like manner
  the sacred decretals which you see were written with the hand of an angel
  of the cherubim kind.  You outlandish people will hardly believe this, I
  fear.  Little enough, of conscience, said Panurge.  And then, continued
  Homenas, they were miraculously transmitted to us here from the very heaven
  of heavens; in the same manner as the river Nile is called Diipetes by
  Homer, the father of all philosophy--the holy decretals always excepted.
  Now, because you have seen the pope, their evangelist and everlasting
  protector, we will give you leave to see and kiss them on the inside, if
  you think meet.  But then you must fast three days before, and canonically
  confess; nicely and strictly mustering up and inventorizing your sins,
  great and small, so thick that one single circumstance of them may not
  escape you; as our holy decretals, which you see, direct.  This will take
  up some time.  Man of God, answered Panurge, we have seen and descried
  decrees, and eke decretals enough o' conscience; some on paper, other on
  parchment, fine and gay like any painted paper lantern, some on vellum,
  some in manuscript, and others in print; so you need not take half these
  pains to show us these.  We'll take the goodwill for the deed, and thank
  you as much as if we had.  Ay, marry, said Homenas, but you never saw these
  that are angelically written.  Those in your country are only transcripts
  from ours; as we find it written by one of our old decretaline scholiasts.
  For me, do not spare me; I do not value the labour, so I may serve you.  Do
  but tell me whether you will be confessed and fast only three short little
  days of God?  As for shriving, answered Panurge, there can be no great harm
  in't; but this same fasting, master of mine, will hardly down with us at
  this time, for we have so very much overfasted ourselves at sea that the
  spiders have spun their cobwebs over our grinders.  Do but look on this
  good Friar John des Entomeures (Homenas then courteously demi-clipped him
  about the neck), some moss is growing in his throat for want of bestirring
  and exercising his chaps.  He speaks the truth, vouched Friar John; I have
  so much fasted that I'm almost grown hump-shouldered.  Come, then, let's go
  into the church, said Homenas; and pray forgive us if for the present we do
  not sing you a fine high mass.  The hour of midday is past, and after it
  our sacred decretals forbid us to sing mass, I mean your high and lawful
  mass.  But I'll say a low and dry one for you.  I had rather have one
  moistened with some good Anjou wine, cried Panurge; fall to, fall to your
  low mass, and despatch.  Ods-bodikins, quoth Friar John, it frets me to the
  guts that I must have an empty stomach at this time of day; for, had I
  eaten a good breakfast and fed like a monk, if he should chance to sing us
  the Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, I had then brought thither bread and
  wine for the traits passes (those that are gone before).  Well, patience;
  pull away, and save tide; short and sweet, I pray you, and this for a
  cause.
  
  
  
  
  How Homenas showed us the archetype, or representation of a pope.
  
  Mass being mumbled over, Homenas took a huge bundle of keys out of a trunk
  near the head altar, and put thirty-two of them into so many keyholes; put
  back so many springs; then with fourteen more mastered so many padlocks,
  and at last opened an iron window strongly barred above the said altar.
  This being done, in token of great mystery he covered himself with wet
  sackcloth, and drawing a curtain of crimson satin, showed us an image
  daubed over, coarsely enough, to my thinking; then he touched it with a
  pretty long stick, and made us all kiss the part of the stick that had
  touched the image.  After this he said unto us, What think you of this
  image?  It is the likeness of a pope, answered Pantagruel; I know it by the
  triple crown, his furred amice, his rochet, and his slipper.  You are in
  the right, said Homenas; it is the idea of that same good god on earth
  whose coming we devoutly await, and whom we hope one day to see in this
  country.  O happy, wished-for, and much-expected day! and happy, most happy
  you, whose propitious stars have so favoured you as to let you see the
  living and real face of this good god on earth! by the single sight of
  whose picture we obtain full remission of all the sins which we remember
  that we have committed, as also a third part and eighteen quarantaines of
  the sins which we have forgot; and indeed we only see it on high annual
  holidays.
  
  This caused Pantagruel to say that it was a work like those which Daedalus
  used to make, since, though it were deformed and ill drawn, nevertheless
  some divine energy, in point of pardons, lay hid and concealed in it.
  Thus, said Friar John, at Seuille, the rascally beggars being one evening
  on a solemn holiday at supper in the spital, one bragged of having got six
  blancs, or twopence halfpenny; another eight liards, or twopence; a third,
  seven caroluses, or sixpence; but an old mumper made his vaunts of having
  got three testons, or five shillings.  Ah, but, cried his comrades, thou
  hast a leg of God; as if, continued Friar John, some divine virtue could
  lie hid in a stinking ulcerated rotten shank.  Pray, said Pantagruel, when
  you are for telling us some such nauseous tale, be so kind as not to forget
  to provide a basin, Friar John; I'll assure you, I had much ado to forbear
  bringing up my breakfast.  Fie! I wonder a man of your coat is not ashamed
  to use thus the sacred name of God in speaking of things so filthy and
  abominable! fie, I say.  If among your monking tribes such an abuse of
  words is allowed, I beseech you leave it there, and do not let it come out
  of the cloisters.  Physicians, said Epistemon, thus attribute a kind of
  divinity to some diseases.  Nero also extolled mushrooms, and, in a Greek
  proverb, termed them divine food, because with them he had poisoned
  Claudius his predecessor.  But methinks, gentlemen, this same picture is
  not over-like our late popes.  For I have seen them, not with their
  pallium, amice, or rochet on, but with helmets on their heads, more like
  the top of a Persian turban; and while the Christian commonwealth was in
  peace, they alone were most furiously and cruelly making war.  This must
  have been then, returned Homenas, against the rebellious, heretical
  Protestants; reprobates who are disobedient to the holiness of this good
  god on earth.  'Tis not only lawful for him to do so, but it is enjoined
  him by the sacred decretals; and if any dare transgress one single iota
  against their commands, whether they be emperors, kings, dukes, princes, or
  commonwealths, he is immediately to pursue them with fire and sword, strip
  them of all their goods, take their kingdoms from them, proscribe them,
  anathematize them, and destroy not only their bodies, those of their
  children, relations, and others, but damn also their souls to the very
  bottom of the most hot and burning cauldron in hell.  Here, in the devil's
  name, said Panurge, the people are no heretics; such as was our
  Raminagrobis, and as they are in Germany and England.  You are Christians
  of the best edition, all picked and culled, for aught I see.  Ay, marry are
  we, returned Homenas, and for that reason we shall all be saved.  Now let
  us go and bless ourselves with holy water, and then to dinner.
  
  
  
  
  Table-talk in praise of the decretals.
  
  Now, topers, pray observe that while Homenas was saying his dry mass, three
  collectors, or licensed beggars of the church, each of them with a large
  basin, went round among the people, with a loud voice:  Pray remember the
  blessed men who have seen his face.  As we came out of the temple they
  brought their basins brimful of Papimany chink to Homenas, who told us that
  it was plentifully to feast with; and that, of this contribution and
  voluntary tax, one part should be laid out in good drinking, another in
  good eating, and the remainder in both, according to an admirable
  exposition hidden in a corner of their holy decretals; which was performed
  to a T, and that at a noted tavern not much unlike that of Will's at
  Amiens.  Believe me, we tickled it off there with copious cramming and
  numerous swilling.
  
  I made two notable observations at that dinner:  the one, that there was
  not one dish served up, whether of cabrittas, capons, hogs (of which latter
  there is great plenty in Papimany), pigeons, coneys, leverets, turkeys, or
  others, without abundance of magistral stuff; the other, that every course,
  and the fruit also, were served up by unmarried females of the place, tight
  lasses, I'll assure you, waggish, fair, good-conditioned, and comely,
  spruce, and fit for business.  They were all clad in fine long white albs,
  with two girts; their hair interwoven with narrow tape and purple ribbon,
  stuck with roses, gillyflowers, marjoram, daffadowndillies, thyme, and
  other sweet flowers.
  
  At every cadence they invited us to drink and bang it about, dropping us
  neat and genteel courtesies; nor was the sight of them unwelcome to all the
  company; and as for Friar John, he leered on them sideways, like a cur that
  steals a capon.  When the first course was taken off, the females
  melodiously sung us an epode in the praise of the sacrosanct decretals; and
  then the second course being served up, Homenas, joyful and cheery, said to
  one of the she-butlers, Light here, Clerica.  Immediately one of the girls
  brought him a tall-boy brimful of extravagant wine.  He took fast hold of
  it, and fetching a deep sigh, said to Pantagruel, My lord, and you, my good
  friends, here's t'ye, with all my heart; you are all very welcome.  When he
  had tipped that off, and given the tall-boy to the pretty creature, he
  lifted up his voice and said, O most holy decretals, how good is good wine
  found through your means!  This is the best jest we have had yet, observed
  Panurge.  But it would still be a better, said Pantagruel, if they could
  turn bad wine into good.
  
  O seraphic Sextum! continued Homenas, how necessary are you not to the
  salvation of poor mortals!  O cherubic Clementinae! how perfectly the
  perfect institution of a true Christian is contained and described in you!
  O angelical Extravagantes! how many poor souls that wander up and down in
  mortal bodies through this vale of misery would perish were it not for you!
  When, ah! when shall this special gift of grace be bestowed on mankind, as
  to lay aside all other studies and concerns, to use you, to peruse you, to
  understand you, to know you by heart, to practise you, to incorporate you,
  to turn you into blood, and incentre you into the deepest ventricles of
  their brains, the inmost marrow of their bones, and most intricate
  labyrinth of their arteries?  Then, ah! then, and no sooner than then, nor
  otherwise than thus, shall the world be happy!  While the old man was thus
  running on, Epistemon rose and softly said to Panurge:  For want of a
  close-stool, I must even leave you for a moment or two; this stuff has
  unbunged the orifice of my mustard-barrel; but I'll not tarry long.
  
  Then, ah! then, continued Homenas, no hail, frost, ice, snow, overflowing,
  or vis major; then plenty of all earthly goods here below.  Then
  uninterrupted and eternal peace through the universe, an end of all wars,
  plunderings, drudgeries, robbing, assassinates, unless it be to destroy
  these cursed rebels the heretics.  Oh! then, rejoicing, cheerfulness,
  jollity, solace, sports, and delicious pleasures, over the face of the
  earth.  Oh! what great learning, inestimable erudition, and god-like
  precepts are knit, linked, rivetted, and mortised in the divine chapters of
  these eternal decretals!
  
  Oh! how wonderfully, if you read but one demi-canon, short paragraph, or
  single observation of these sacrosanct decretals, how wonderfully, I say,
  do you not perceive to kindle in your hearts a furnace of divine love,
  charity towards your neighbour (provided he be no heretic), bold contempt
  of all casual and sublunary things, firm content in all your affections,
  and ecstatic elevation of soul even to the third heaven.
  
  
  
  
  A continuation of the miracles caused by the decretals.
  
  Wisely, brother Timothy, quoth Panurge, did am, did am; he says blew; but,
  for my part, I believe as little of it as I can.  For one day by chance I
  happened to read a chapter of them at Poictiers, at the most
  decretalipotent Scotch doctor's, and old Nick turn me into bumfodder, if
  this did not make me so hide-bound and costive, that for four or five days
  I hardly scumbered one poor butt of sir-reverence; and that, too, was full
  as dry and hard, I protest, as Catullus tells us were those of his
  neighbour Furius:
  
    Nec toto decies cacas in anno,
    Atque id durius est faba, et lapillis:
    Quod tu si manibus teras, fricesque,
    Non unquam digitum inquinare posses.
  
  Oh, ho! cried Homenas; by'r lady, it may be you were then in the state of
  mortal sin, my friend.  Well turned, cried Panurge; this was a new strain,
  egad.
  
  One day, said Friar John, at Seuille, I had applied to my posteriors, by
  way of hind-towel, a leaf of an old Clementinae which our rent-gatherer,
  John Guimard, had thrown out into the green of our cloister.  Now the devil
  broil me like a black pudding, if I wasn't so abominably plagued with
  chaps, chawns, and piles at the fundament, that the orifice of my poor
  nockandroe was in a most woeful pickle for I don't know how long.  By'r our
  lady, cried Homenas, it was a plain punishment of God for the sin that you
  had committed in beraying that sacred book, which you ought rather to have
  kissed and adored; I say with an adoration of latria, or of hyperdulia at
  least.  The Panormitan never told a lie in the matter.
  
  Saith Ponocrates:  At Montpelier, John Chouart having bought of the monks
  of St. Olary a delicate set of decretals, written on fine large parchment
  of Lamballe, to beat gold between the leaves, not so much as a piece that
  was beaten in them came to good, but all were dilacerated and spoiled.
  Mark this! cried Homenas; 'twas a divine punishment and vengeance.
  
  At Mans, said Eudemon, Francis Cornu, apothecary, had turned an old set of
  Extravagantes into waste paper.  May I never stir, if whatever was lapped
  up in them was not immediately corrupted, rotten, and spoiled; incense,
  pepper, cloves, cinnamon, saffron, wax, cassia, rhubarb, tamarinds, all
  drugs and spices, were lost without exception.  Mark, mark, quoth Homenas,
  an effect of divine justice!  This comes of putting the sacred Scriptures
  to such profane uses.
  
  At Paris, said Carpalin, Snip Groignet the tailor had turned an old
  Clementinae into patterns and measures, and all the clothes that were cut
  on them were utterly spoiled and lost; gowns, hoods, cloaks, cassocks,
  jerkins, jackets, waistcoats, capes, doublets, petticoats, corps de robes,
  farthingales, and so forth.  Snip, thinking to cut a hood, would cut you
  out a codpiece; instead of a cassock he would make you a high-crowned hat;
  for a waistcoat he'd shape you out a rochet; on the pattern of a doublet
  he'd make you a thing like a frying-pan.  Then his journeymen having
  stitched it up did jag it and pink it at the bottom, and so it looked like
  a pan to fry chestnuts.  Instead of a cape he made a buskin; for a
  farthingale he shaped a montero cap; and thinking to make a cloak, he'd cut
  out a pair of your big out-strouting Swiss breeches, with panes like the
  outside of a tabor.  Insomuch that Snip was condemned to make good the
  stuffs to all his customers; and to this day poor Cabbage's hair grows
  through his hood and his arse through his pocket-holes.  Mark, an effect of
  heavenly wrath and vengeance! cried Homenas.
  
  At Cahusac, said Gymnast, a match being made by the lords of Estissac and
  Viscount Lausun to shoot at a mark, Perotou had taken to pieces a set of
  decretals and set one of the leaves for the white to shoot at.  Now I sell,
  nay, I give and bequeath for ever and aye, the mould of my doublet to
  fifteen hundred hampers full of black devils, if ever any archer in the
  country (though they are singular marksmen in Guienne) could hit the white.
  Not the least bit of the holy scribble was contaminated or touched; nay,
  and Sansornin the elder, who held stakes, swore to us, figues dioures, hard
  figs (his greatest oath), that he had openly, visibly, and manifestly seen
  the bolt of Carquelin moving right to the round circle in the middle of the
  white; and that just on the point, when it was going to hit and enter, it
  had gone aside above seven foot and four inches wide of it towards the
  bakehouse.
  
  Miracle! cried Homenas, miracle! miracle!  Clerica, come wench, light,
  light here.  Here's to you all, gentlemen; I vow you seem to me very sound
  Christians.  While he said this, the maidens began to snicker at his elbow,
  grinning, giggling, and twittering among themselves.  Friar John began to
  paw, neigh, and whinny at the snout's end, as one ready to leap, or at
  least to play the ass, and get up and ride tantivy to the devil like a
  beggar on horseback.
  
  Methinks, said Pantagruel, a man might have been more out of danger near
  the white of which Gymnast spoke than was formerly Diogenes near another.
  How is that? asked Homenas; what was it?  Was he one of our decretalists?
  Rarely fallen in again, egad, said Epistemon, returning from stool; I see
  he will hook his decretals in, though by the head and shoulders.
  
  Diogenes, said Pantagruel, one day for pastime went to see some archers
  that shot at butts, one of whom was so unskilful, that when it was his turn
  to shoot all the bystanders went aside, lest he should mistake them for the
  mark.  Diogenes had seen him shoot extremely wide of it; so when the other
  was taking aim a second time, and the people removed at a great distance to
  the right and left of the white, he placed himself close by the mark,
  holding that place to be the safest, and that so bad an archer would
  certainly rather hit any other.
  
  One of the Lord d'Estissac's pages at last found out the charm, pursued
  Gymnast, and by his advice Perotou put in another white made up of some
  papers of Pouillac's lawsuit, and then everyone shot cleverly.
  
  At Landerousse, said Rhizotome, at John Delif's wedding were very great
  doings, as 'twas then the custom of the country.  After supper several
  farces, interludes, and comical scenes were acted; they had also several
  morris-dancers with bells and tabors, and divers sorts of masks and mummers
  were let in.  My schoolfellows and I, to grace the festival to the best of
  our power (for fine white and purple liveries had been given to all of us
  in the morning), contrived a merry mask with store of cockle-shells, shells
  of snails, periwinkles, and such other.  Then for want of cuckoo-pint, or
  priest-pintle, lousebur, clote, and paper, we made ourselves false faces
  with the leaves of an old Sextum that had been thrown by and lay there for
  anyone that would take it up, cutting out holes for the eyes, nose, and
  mouth.  Now, did you ever hear the like since you were born?  When we had
  played our little boyish antic tricks, and came to take off our sham faces,
  we appeared more hideous and ugly than the little devils that acted the
  Passion at Douay; for our faces were utterly spoiled at the places which
  had been touched by those leaves.  One had there the small-pox; another,
  God's token, or the plague-spot; a third, the crinckums; a fourth, the
  measles; a fifth, botches, pushes, and carbuncles; in short, he came off
  the least hurt who only lost his teeth by the bargain.  Miracle! bawled out
  Homenas, miracle!
  
  Hold, hold! cried Rhizotome; it is not yet time to clap.  My sister Kate
  and my sister Ren had put the crepines of their hoods, their ruffles,
  snuffekins, and neck-ruffs new washed, starched, and ironed, into that very
  book of decretals; for, you must know, it was covered with thick boards and
  had strong clasps.  Now, by the virtue of God--Hold, interrupted Homenas,
  what god do you mean?  There is but one, answered Rhizotome.  In heaven, I
  grant, replied Homenas; but we have another here on earth, do you see?  Ay,
  marry have we, said Rhizotome; but on my soul I protest I had quite forgot
  it.  Well then, by the virtue of god the pope, their pinners, neck-ruffs,
  bib, coifs, and other linen turned as black as a charcoal-man's sack.
  Miracle! cried Homenas.  Here, Clerica, light me here; and prithee, girl,
  observe these rare stories.  How comes it to pass then, asked Friar John,
  that people say,
  
    Ever since decrees had tails,
    And gendarmes lugged heavy mails,
    Since each monk would have a horse,
    All went here from bad to worse.
  
  I understand you, answered Homenas; this is one of the quirks and little
  satires of the new-fangled heretics.
  
  
  
  
  How by the virtue of the decretals, gold is subtilely drawn out of France
  to Rome.
  
  I would, said Epistemon, it had cost me a pint of the best tripe that ever
  can enter into gut, so we had but compared with the original the dreadful
  chapters, Execrabilis, De multa, Si plures; De annatis per totum; Nisi
  essent; Cum ad monasterium; Quod delectio; Mandatum; and certain others,
  that draw every year out of France to Rome four hundred thousand ducats and
  more.
  
  Do you make nothing of this? asked Homenas.  Though, methinks, after all,
  it is but little, if we consider that France, the most Christian, is the
  only nurse the see of Rome has.  However, find me in the whole world a
  book, whether of philosophy, physic, law, mathematics, or other humane
  learning, nay, even, by my God, of the Holy Scripture itself, will draw as
  much money thence?  None, none, psha, tush, blurt, pish; none can.  You may
  look till your eyes drop out of your head, nay, till doomsday in the
  afternoon, before you can find another of that energy; I'll pass my word
  for that.
  
  Yet these devilish heretics refuse to learn and know it.  Burn 'em, tear
  'em, nip 'em with hot pincers, drown 'em, hang 'em, spit 'em at the
  bunghole, pelt 'em, paut 'em, bruise 'em, beat 'em, cripple 'em, dismember
  'em, cut 'em, gut 'em, bowel 'em, paunch 'em, thrash 'em, slash 'em, gash
  'em, chop 'em, slice 'em, slit 'em, carve 'em, saw 'em, bethwack 'em, pare
  'em, hack 'em, hew 'em, mince 'em, flay 'em, boil 'em, broil 'em, roast
  'em, toast 'em, bake 'em, fry 'em, crucify 'em, crush 'em, squeeze 'em,
  grind 'em, batter 'em, burst 'em, quarter 'em, unlimb 'em, behump 'em,
  bethump 'em, belam 'em, belabour 'em, pepper 'em, spitchcock 'em, and
  carbonade 'em on gridirons, these wicked heretics! decretalifuges,
  decretalicides, worse than homicides, worse than patricides,
  decretalictones of the devil of hell.
  
  As for you other good people, I must earnestly pray and beseech you to
  believe no other thing, to think on, say, undertake, or do no other thing,
  than what's contained in our sacred decretals and their corollaries, this
  fine Sextum, these fine Clementinae, these fine Extravagantes.  O deific
  books!  So shall you enjoy glory, honour, exaltation, wealth, dignities,
  and preferments in this world; be revered and dreaded by all, preferred,
  elected, and chosen above all men.
  
  For there is not under the cope of heaven a condition of men out of which
  you'll find persons fitter to do and handle all things than those who by
  divine prescience, eternal predestination, have applied themselves to the
  study of the holy decretals.
  
  Would you choose a worthy emperor, a good captain, a fit general in time of
  war, one that can well foresee all inconveniences, avoid all dangers,
  briskly and bravely bring his men on to a breach or attack, still be on
  sure grounds, always overcome without loss of his men, and know how to make
  a good use of his victory?  Take me a decretist.  No, no, I mean a
  decretalist.  Ho, the foul blunder, whispered Epistemon.
  
  Would you, in time of peace, find a man capable of wisely governing the
  state of a commonwealth, of a kingdom, of an empire, of a monarchy;
  sufficient to maintain the clergy, nobility, senate, and commons in wealth,
  friendship, unity, obedience, virtue, and honesty?  Take a decretalist.
  
  Would you find a man who, by his exemplary life, eloquence, and pious
  admonitions, may in a short time, without effusion of human blood, conquer
  the Holy Land, and bring over to the holy Church the misbelieving Turks,
  Jews, Tartars, Muscovites, Mamelukes, and Sarrabonites?  Take me a
  decretalist.
  
  What makes, in many countries, the people rebellious and depraved, pages
  saucy and mischievous, students sottish and duncical?  Nothing but that
  their governors and tutors were not decretalists.
  
  But what, on your conscience, was it, do you think, that established,
  confirmed, and authorized those fine religious orders with whom you see the
  Christian world everywhere adorned, graced, and illustrated, as the
  firmament is with its glorious stars?  The holy decretals.
  
  What was it that founded, underpropped, and fixed, and now maintains,
  nourishes, and feeds the devout monks and friars in convents, monasteries,
  and abbeys; so that did they not daily and mightily pray without ceasing,
  the world would be in evident danger of returning to its primitive chaos?
  The sacred decretals.
  
  What makes and daily increases the famous and celebrated patrimony of St.
  Peter in plenty of all temporal, corporeal, and spiritual blessings?  The
  holy decretals.
  
  What made the holy apostolic see and pope of Rome, in all times, and at
  this present, so dreadful in the universe, that all kings, emperors,
  potentates, and lords, willing, nilling, must depend upon him, hold of him,
  be crowned, confirmed, and authorized by him, come thither to strike sail,
  buckle, and fall down before his holy slipper, whose picture you have seen?
  The mighty decretals of God.
  
  I will discover you a great secret.  The universities of your world have
  commonly a book, either open or shut, in their arms and devices; what book
  do you think it is?  Truly, I do not know, answered Pantagruel; I never
  read it.  It is the decretals, said Homenas, without which the privileges
  of all universities would soon be lost.  You must own that I have taught
  you this; ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
  
  Here Homenas began to belch, to fart, to funk, to laugh, to slaver, and to
  sweat; and then he gave his huge greasy four-cornered cap to one of the
  lasses, who clapped it on her pretty head with a great deal of joy, after
  she had lovingly bussed it, as a sure token that she should be first
  married.  Vivat, cried Epistemon, fifat, bibat, pipat.
  
  O apocalyptic secret! continued Homenas; light, light, Clerica; light here
  with double lanterns.  Now for the fruit, virgins.
  
  I was saying, then, that giving yourselves thus wholly to the study of the
  holy decretals, you will gain wealth and honour in this world.  I add, that
  in the next you will infallibly be saved in the blessed kingdom of heaven,
  whose keys are given to our good god and decretaliarch.  O my good god,
  whom I adore and never saw, by thy special grace open unto us, at the point
  of death at least, this most sacred treasure of our holy Mother Church,
  whose protector, preserver, butler, chief-larder, administrator, and
  disposer thou art; and take care, I beseech thee, O lord, that the precious
  works of supererogation, the goodly pardons, do not fail us in time of
  need; so that the devils may not find an opportunity to gripe our precious
  souls, and the dreadful jaws of hell may not swallow us.  If we must pass
  through purgatory thy will be done.  It is in thy power to draw us out of
  it when thou pleasest.  Here Homenas began to shed huge hot briny tears, to
  beat his breast, and kiss his thumbs in the shape of a cross.
  
  
  
  
  How Homenas gave Pantagruel some bon-Christian pears.
  
  Epistemon, Friar John, and Panurge, seeing this doleful catastrophe, began,
  under the cover of their napkins, to cry Meeow, meeow, meeow; feigning to
  wipe their eyes all the while as if they had wept.  The wenches were doubly
  diligent, and brought brimmers of Clementine wine to every one, besides
  store of sweetmeats; and thus the feasting was revived.
  
  Before we arose from table, Homenas gave us a great quantity of fair large
  pears, saying, Here, my good friends, these are singular good pears.  You
  will find none such anywhere else, I dare warrant.  Every soil bears not
  everything, you know.  India alone boasts black ebony; the best incense is
  produced in Sabaea; the sphragitid earth at Lemnos; so this island is the
  only place where such fine pears grow.  You may, if you please, make
  seminaries with their pippins in your country.
  
  I like their taste extremely, said Pantagruel.  If they were sliced, and
  put into a pan on the fire with wine and sugar, I fancy they would be very
  wholesome meat for the sick, as well as for the healthy.  Pray what do you
  call 'em?  No otherwise than you have heard, replied Homenas.  We are a
  plain downright sort of people, as God would have it, and call figs, figs;
  plums, plums; and pears, pears.  Truly, said Pantagruel, if I live to go
  home--which I hope will be speedily, God willing--I'll set off and graff
  some in my garden in Touraine, by the banks of the Loire, and will call
  them bon-Christian or good-Christian pears, for I never saw better
  Christians than are these good Papimans.  I would like him two to one
  better yet, said Friar John, would he but give us two or three cartloads of
  yon buxom lasses.  Why, what would you do with them? cried Homenas.  Quoth
  Friar John, No harm, only bleed the kind-hearted souls straight between the
  two great toes with certain clever lancets of the right stamp; by which
  operation good Christian children would be inoculated upon them, and the
  breed be multiplied in our country, in which there are not many over-good,
  the more's the pity.
  
  Nay, verily, replied Homenas, we cannot do this; for you would make them
  tread their shoes awry, crack their pipkins, and spoil their shapes.  You
  love mutton, I see; you will run at sheep.  I know you by that same nose
  and hair of yours, though I never saw your face before.  Alas! alas! how
  kind you are!  And would you indeed damn your precious soul?  Our decretals
  forbid this.  Ah, I wish you had them at your finger's-end.  Patience, said
  Friar John; but, si tu non vis dare, praesta, quaesumus.  Matter of
  breviary.  As for that, I defy all the world, and I fear no man that wears
  a head and a hood, though he were a crystalline, I mean a decretaline
  doctor.
  
  Dinner being over, we took our leave of the right reverend Homenas, and of
  all the good people, humbly giving thanks; and, to make them amends for
  their kind entertainment, promised them that, at our coming to Rome, we
  would make our applications so effectually to the pope that he would
  speedily be sure to come to visit them in person.  After this we went
  o'board.
  
  Pantagruel, by an act of generosity, and as an acknowledgment of the sight
  of the pope's picture, gave Homenas nine pieces of double friezed cloth of
  gold to be set before the grates of the window.  He also caused the church
  box for its repairs and fabric to be quite filled with double crowns of
  gold; and ordered nine hundred and fourteen angels to be delivered to each
  of the lasses who had waited at table, to buy them husbands when they could
  get them.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel, being at sea, heard various unfrozen words.
  
  When we were at sea, junketting, tippling, discoursing, and telling
  stories, Pantagruel rose and stood up to look out; then asked us, Do you
  hear nothing, gentlemen?  Methinks I hear some people talking in the air,
  yet I can see nobody.  Hark!  According to his command we listened, and
  with full ears sucked in the air as some of you suck oysters, to find if we
  could hear some sound scattered through the sky; and to lose none of it,
  like the Emperor Antoninus some of us laid their hands hollow next to their
  ears; but all this would not do, nor could we hear any voice.  Yet
  Pantagruel continued to assure us he heard various voices in the air, some
  of men, and some of women.
  
  At last we began to fancy that we also heard something, or at least that
  our ears tingled; and the more we listened, the plainer we discerned the
  voices, so as to distinguish articulate sounds.  This mightily frightened
  us, and not without cause; since we could see nothing, yet heard such
  various sounds and voices of men, women, children, horses, &c., insomuch
  that Panurge cried out, Cods-belly, there is no fooling with the devil; we
  are all beshit, let's fly.  There is some ambuscado hereabouts.  Friar
  John, art thou here my love?  I pray thee, stay by me, old boy.  Hast thou
  got thy swindging tool?  See that it do not stick in thy scabbard; thou
  never scourest it half as it should be.  We are undone.  Hark!  They are
  guns, gad judge me.  Let's fly, I do not say with hands and feet, as Brutus
  said at the battle of Pharsalia; I say, with sails and oars.  Let's whip it
  away.  I never find myself to have a bit of courage at sea; in cellars and
  elsewhere I have more than enough.  Let's fly and save our bacon.  I do not
  say this for any fear that I have; for I dread nothing but danger, that I
  don't; I always say it that shouldn't.  The free archer of Baignolet said
  as much.  Let us hazard nothing, therefore, I say, lest we come off bluely.
  Tack about, helm a-lee, thou son of a bachelor.  Would I were now well in
  Quinquenais, though I were never to marry.  Haste away, let's make all the
  sail we can.  They'll be too hard for us; we are not able to cope with
  them; they are ten to our one, I'll warrant you.  Nay, and they are on
  their dunghill, while we do not know the country.  They will be the death
  of us.  We'll lose no honour by flying.  Demosthenes saith that the man
  that runs away may fight another day.  At least let us retreat to the
  leeward.  Helm a-lee; bring the main-tack aboard, haul the bowlines, hoist
  the top-gallants.  We are all dead men; get off, in the devil's name, get
  off.
  
  Pantagruel, hearing the sad outcry which Panurge made, said, Who talks of
  flying?  Let's first see who they are; perhaps they may be friends.  I can
  discover nobody yet, though I can see a hundred miles round me.  But let's
  consider a little.  I have read that a philosopher named Petron was of
  opinion that there were several worlds that touched each other in an
  equilateral triangle; in whose centre, he said, was the dwelling of truth;
  and that the words, ideas, copies, and images of all things past and to
  come resided there; round which was the age; and that with success of time
  part of them used to fall on mankind like rheums and mildews, just as the
  dew fell on Gideon's fleece, till the age was fulfilled.
  
  I also remember, continued he, that Aristotle affirms Homer's words to be
  flying, moving, and consequently animated.  Besides, Antiphanes said that
  Plato's philosophy was like words which, being spoken in some country
  during a hard winter, are immediately congealed, frozen up, and not heard;
  for what Plato taught young lads could hardly be understood by them when
  they were grown old.  Now, continued he, we should philosophize and search
  whether this be not the place where those words are thawed.
  
  You would wonder very much should this be the head and lyre of Orpheus.
  When the Thracian women had torn him to pieces they threw his head and lyre
  into the river Hebrus, down which they floated to the Euxine sea as far as
  the island of Lesbos; the head continually uttering a doleful song, as it
  were lamenting the death of Orpheus, and the lyre, with the wind's impulse
  moving its strings and harmoniously accompanying the voice.  Let's see if
  we cannot discover them hereabouts.
  
  
  
  
  How among the frozen words Pantagruel found some odd ones.
  
  The skipper made answer:  Be not afraid, my lord; we are on the confines of
  the Frozen Sea, on which, about the beginning of last winter, happened a
  great and bloody fight between the Arimaspians and the Nephelibates.  Then
  the words and cries of men and women, the hacking, slashing, and hewing of
  battle-axes, the shocking, knocking, and jolting of armours and harnesses,
  the neighing of horses, and all other martial din and noise, froze in the
  air; and now, the rigour of the winter being over, by the succeeding
  serenity and warmth of the weather they melt and are heard.
  
  By jingo, quoth Panurge, the man talks somewhat like.  I believe him.  But
  couldn't we see some of 'em?  I think I have read that, on the edge of the
  mountain on which Moses received the Judaic law, the people saw the voices
  sensibly.  Here, here, said Pantagruel, here are some that are not yet
  thawed.  He then threw us on the deck whole handfuls of frozen words, which
  seemed to us like your rough sugar-plums, of many colours, like those used
  in heraldry; some words gules (this means also jests and merry sayings),
  some vert, some azure, some black, some or (this means also fair words);
  and when we had somewhat warmed them between our hands, they melted like
  snow, and we really heard them, but could not understand them, for it was a
  barbarous gibberish.  One of them only, that was pretty big, having been
  warmed between Friar John's hands, gave a sound much like that of chestnuts
  when they are thrown into the fire without being first cut, which made us
  all start.  This was the report of a field-piece in its time, cried Friar
  John.
  
  Panurge prayed Pantagruel to give him some more; but Pantagruel told him
  that to give words was the part of a lover.  Sell me some then, I pray you,
  cried Panurge.  That's the part of a lawyer, returned Pantagruel.  I would
  sooner sell you silence, though at a dearer rate; as Demosthenes formerly
  sold it by the means of his argentangina, or silver squinsy.
  
  However, he threw three or four handfuls of them on the deck; among which I
  perceived some very sharp words, and some bloody words, which the pilot
  said used sometimes to go back and recoil to the place whence they came,
  but it was with a slit weasand.  We also saw some terrible words, and some
  others not very pleasant to the eye.
  
  When they had been all melted together, we heard a strange noise, hin, hin,
  hin, hin, his, tick, tock, taack, bredelinbrededack, frr, frr, frr, bou,
  bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, track, track, trr, trr, trr, trrr,
  trrrrrr, on, on, on, on, on, on, ououououon, gog, magog, and I do not know
  what other barbarous words, which the pilot said were the noise made by the
  charging squadrons, the shock and neighing of horses.
  
  Then we heard some large ones go off like drums and fifes, and others like
  clarions and trumpets.  Believe me, we had very good sport with them.  I
  would fain have saved some merry odd words, and have preserved them in oil,
  as ice and snow are kept, and between clean straw.  But Pantagruel would
  not let me, saying that 'tis a folly to hoard up what we are never like to
  want or have always at hand, odd, quaint, merry, and fat words of gules
  never being scarce among all good and jovial Pantagruelists.
  
  Panurge somewhat vexed Friar John, and put him in the pouts; for he took
  him at his word while he dreamed of nothing less.  This caused the friar to
  threaten him with such a piece of revenge as was put upon G. Jousseaume,
  who having taken the merry Patelin at his word when he had overbid himself
  in some cloth, was afterwards fairly taken by the horns like a bullock by
  his jovial chapman, whom he took at his word like a man.  Panurge, well
  knowing that threatened folks live long, bobbed and made mouths at him in
  token of derision, then cried, Would I had here the word of the Holy
  Bottle, without being thus obliged to go further in pilgrimage to her.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel went ashore at the dwelling of Gaster, the first master of
  arts in the world.
  
  That day Pantagruel went ashore in an island which, for situation and
  governor, may be said not to have its fellow.  When you just come into it,
  you find it rugged, craggy, and barren, unpleasant to the eye, painful to
  the feet, and almost as inaccessible as the mountain of Dauphine, which is
  somewhat like a toadstool, and was never climbed as any can remember by any
  but Doyac, who had the charge of King Charles the Eighth's train of
  artillery.
  
  This same Doyac with strange tools and engines gained that mountain's top,
  and there he found an old ram.  It puzzled many a wise head to guess how it
  got thither.  Some said that some eagle or great horncoot, having carried
  it thither while it was yet a lambkin, it had got away and saved itself
  among the bushes.
  
  As for us, having with much toil and sweat overcome the difficult ways at
  the entrance, we found the top of the mountain so fertile, healthful, and
  pleasant, that I thought I was then in the true garden of Eden, or earthly
  paradise, about whose situation our good theologues are in such a quandary
  and keep such a pother.
  
  As for Pantagruel, he said that here was the seat of Arete--that is as much
  as to say, virtue--described by Hesiod.  This, however, with submission to
  better judgments.  The ruler of this place was one Master Gaster, the first
  master of arts in this world.  For, if you believe that fire is the great
  master of arts, as Tully writes, you very much wrong him and yourself;
  alas! Tully never believed this.  On the other side, if you fancy Mercury
  to be the first inventor of arts, as our ancient Druids believed of old,
  you are mightily beside the mark.  The satirist's sentence, that affirms
  Master Gaster to be the master of all arts, is true.  With him peacefully
  resided old goody Penia, alias Poverty, the mother of the ninety-nine
  Muses, on whom Porus, the lord of Plenty, formerly begot Love, that noble
  child, the mediator of heaven and earth, as Plato affirms in Symposio.
  
  We were all obliged to pay our homage and swear allegiance to that mighty
  sovereign; for he is imperious, severe, blunt, hard, uneasy, inflexible;
  you cannot make him believe, represent to him, or persuade him anything.
  
  He does not hear; and as the Egyptians said that Harpocrates, the god of
  silence, named Sigalion in Greek, was astome, that is, without a mouth, so
  Gaster was created without ears, even like the image of Jupiter in Candia.
  
  He only speaks by signs, but those signs are more readily obeyed by
  everyone than the statutes of senates or commands of monarchs.  Neither
  will he admit the least let or delay in his summons.  You say that when a
  lion roars all the beasts at a considerable distance round about, as far as
  his roar can be heard, are seized with a shivering.  This is written, it is
  true, I have seen it. I assure you that at Master Gaster's command the very
  heavens tremble, and all the earth shakes.  His command is called, Do this
  or die.  Needs must when the devil drives; there's no gainsaying of it.
  
  The pilot was telling us how, on a certain time, after the manner of the
  members that mutinied against the belly, as Aesop describes it, the whole
  kingdom of the Somates went off into a direct faction against Gaster,
  resolving to throw off his yoke; but they soon found their mistake, and
  most humbly submitted, for otherwise they had all been famished.
  
  What company soever he is in, none dispute with him for precedence or
  superiority; he still goes first, though kings, emperors, or even the pope,
  were there.  So he held the first place at the council of Basle; though
  some will tell you that the council was tumultuous by the contention and
  ambition of many for priority.
  
  Everyone is busied and labours to serve him, and indeed, to make amends for
  this, he does this good to mankind, as to invent for them all arts,
  machines, trades, engines, and crafts; he even instructs brutes in arts
  which are against their nature, making poets of ravens, jackdaws,
  chattering jays, parrots, and starlings, and poetesses of magpies, teaching
  them to utter human language, speak, and sing; and all for the gut.  He
  reclaims and tames eagles, gerfalcons, falcons gentle, sakers, lanners,
  goshawks, sparrowhawks, merlins, haggards, passengers, wild rapacious
  birds; so that, setting them free in the air whenever he thinks fit, as
  high and as long as he pleases, he keeps them suspended, straying, flying,
  hovering, and courting him above the clouds.  Then on a sudden he makes
  them stoop, and come down amain from heaven next to the ground; and all for
  the gut.
  
  Elephants, lions, rhinoceroses, bears, horses, mares, and dogs, he teaches
  to dance, prance, vault, fight, swim, hide themselves, fetch and carry what
  he pleases; and all for the gut.
  
  Salt and fresh-water fish, whales, and the monsters of the main, he brings
  them up from the bottom of the deep; wolves he forces out of the woods,
  bears out of the rocks, foxes out of their holes, and serpents out of the
  ground, and all for the gut.
  
  In short, he is so unruly, that in his rage he devours all men and beasts;
  as was seen among the Vascons, when Q. Metellus besieged them in the
  Sertorian wars, among the Saguntines besieged by Hannibal; among the Jews
  besieged by the Romans, and six hundred more; and all for the gut.  When
  his regent Penia takes a progress, wherever she moves all senates are shut
  up, all statutes repealed, all orders and proclamations vain; she knows,
  obeys, and has no law.  All shun her, in every place choosing rather to
  expose themselves to shipwreck at sea, and venture through fire, rocks,
  caves, and precipices, than be seized by that most dreadful tormentor.
  
  
  
  
  How, at the court of the master of ingenuity, Pantagruel detested the
  Engastrimythes and the Gastrolaters.
  
  At the court of that great master of ingenuity, Pantagruel observed two
  sorts of troublesome and too officious apparitors, whom he very much
  detested.  The first were called Engastrimythes; the others, Gastrolaters.
  
  The first pretended to be descended of the ancient race of Eurycles, and
  for this brought the authority of Aristophanes in his comedy called the
  Wasps; whence of old they were called Euryclians, as Plato writes, and
  Plutarch in his book of the Cessation of Oracles.  In the holy decrees, 26,
  qu. 3, they are styled Ventriloqui; and the same name is given them in
  Ionian by Hippocrates, in his fifth book of Epid., as men who speak from
  the belly.  Sophocles calls them Sternomantes.  These were soothsayers,
  enchanters, cheats, who gulled the mob, and seemed not to speak and give
  answers from the mouth, but from the belly.
  
  Such a one, about the year of our Lord 1513, was Jacoba Rodogina, an
  Italian woman of mean extract; from whose belly we, as well as an infinite
  number of others at Ferrara and elsewhere, have often heard the voice of
  the evil spirit speak, low, feeble, and small, indeed, but yet very
  distinct, articulate, and intelligible, when she was sent for out of
  curiosity by the lords and princes of the Cisalpine Gaul.  To remove all
  manner of doubt, and be assured that this was not a trick, they used to
  have her stripped stark naked, and caused her mouth and nose to be stopped.
  This evil spirit would be called Curled-pate, or Cincinnatulo, seeming
  pleased when any called him by that name, at which he was always ready to
  answer.  If any spoke to him of things past or present, he gave pertinent
  answers, sometimes to the amazement of the hearers; but if of things to
  come, then the devil was gravelled, and used to lie as fast as a dog can
  trot.  Nay, sometimes he seemed to own his ignorance, instead of an answer
  letting out a rousing fart, or muttering some words with barbarous and
  uncouth inflexions, and not to be understood.
  
  As for the Gastrolaters, they stuck close to one another in knots and
  gangs.  Some of them merry, wanton, and soft as so many milk-sops; others
  louring, grim, dogged, demure, and crabbed; all idle, mortal foes to
  business, spending half their time in sleeping and the rest in doing
  nothing, a rent-charge and dead unnecessary weight on the earth, as Hesiod
  saith; afraid, as we judged, of offending or lessening their paunch.
  Others were masked, disguised, and so oddly dressed that it would have done
  you good to have seen them.
  
  There's a saying, and several ancient sages write, that the skill of nature
  appears wonderful in the pleasure which she seems to have taken in the
  configuration of sea-shells, so great is their variety in figures, colours,
  streaks, and inimitable shapes.  I protest the variety we perceived in the
  dresses of the gastrolatrous coquillons was not less.  They all owned
  Gaster for their supreme god, adored him as a god, offered him sacrifices
  as to their omnipotent deity, owned no other god, served, loved, and
  honoured him above all things.
  
  You would have thought that the holy apostle spoke of those when he said
  (Phil. chap. 3), Many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you
  even weeping, that they are enemies of the cross of Christ:  whose end is
  destruction, whose God is their belly.  Pantagruel compared them to the
  Cyclops Polyphemus, whom Euripides brings in speaking thus:  I only
  sacrifice to myself--not to the gods--and to this belly of mine, the
  greatest of all the gods.
  
  
  
  
  Of the ridiculous statue Manduce; and how and what the Gastrolaters
  sacrifice to their ventripotent god.
  
  While we fed our eyes with the sight of the phizzes and actions of these
  lounging gulligutted Gastrolaters, we on a sudden heard the sound of a
  musical instrument called a bell; at which all of them placed themselves in
  rank and file as for some mighty battle, everyone according to his office,
  degree, and seniority.
  
  In this order they moved towards Master Gaster, after a plump, young,
  lusty, gorbellied fellow, who on a long staff fairly gilt carried a wooden
  statue, grossly carved, and as scurvily daubed over with paint; such a one
  as Plautus, Juvenal, and Pomp. Festus describe it.  At Lyons during the
  Carnival it is called Maschecroute or Gnawcrust; they call'd this Manduce.
  
  It was a monstrous, ridiculous, hideous figure, fit to fright little
  children; its eyes were bigger than its belly, and its head larger than all
  the rest of its body; well mouth-cloven however, having a goodly pair of
  wide, broad jaws, lined with two rows of teeth, upper tier and under tier,
  which, by the magic of a small twine hid in the hollow part of the golden
  staff, were made to clash, clatter, and rattle dreadfully one against
  another; as they do at Metz with St. Clement's dragon.
  
  Coming near the Gastrolaters I saw they were followed by a great number of
  fat waiters and tenders, laden with baskets, dossers, hampers, dishes,
  wallets, pots, and kettles.  Then, under the conduct of Manduce, and
  singing I do not know what dithyrambics, crepalocomes, and epenons, opening
  their baskets and pots, they offered their god:
  
  White hippocras,         Fricassees, nine       Cold loins of veal,
    with dry toasts.         sorts.                 with spice.
  White bread.             Monastical brewis.     Zinziberine.
  Brown bread.             Gravy soup.            Beatille pies.
  Carbonadoes, six         Hotch-pots.            Brewis.
    sorts.                 Soft bread.            Marrow-bones, toast,
  Brawn.                   Household bread.         and cabbage.
  Sweetbreads.             Capirotadoes.          Hashes.
  
  Eternal drink intermixed.  Brisk delicate white wine led the van; claret
  and champagne followed, cool, nay, as cold as the very ice, I say, filled
  and offered in large silver cups.  Then they offered:
  
  Chitterlings, gar-       Chines and peas.       Hams.
    nished with mus-       Hog's haslets.         Brawn heads.
    tard.                  Scotch collops.        Powdered venison,
  Sausages.                Puddings.                with turnips.
  Neats' tongues.          Cervelats.             Pickled olives.
  Hung beef.               Bologna sausages.
  
  All this associated with sempiternal liquor.  Then they housed within his
  muzzle:
  
  Legs of mutton, with     Ribs of pork, with     Caponets.
    shallots.                onion sauce.         Caviare and toast.
  Olias.                   Roast capons, basted   Fawns, deer.
  Lumber pies, with          with their own       Hares, leverets.
    hot sauce.               dripping.            Plovers.
  Partridges and young     Flamingoes.            Herons, and young
    partridges.            Cygnets.                 herons.
  Dwarf-herons.            A reinforcement of     Olives.
  Teals.                     vinegar intermixed.  Thrushes.
  Duckers.                 Venison pasties.       Young sea-ravens.
  Bitterns.                Lark pies.             Geese, goslings.
  Shovellers.              Dormice pies.          Queests.
  Curlews.                 Cabretto pasties.      Widgeons.
  Wood-hens.               Roebuck pasties.       Mavises.
  Coots, with leeks.       Pigeon pies.           Grouses.
  Fat kids.                Kid pasties.           Turtles.
  Shoulders of mutton,     Capon pies.            Doe-coneys.
    with capers.           Bacon pies.            Hedgehogs.
  Sirloins of beef.        Soused hog's feet.     Snites.
  Breasts of veal.         Fried pasty-crust.     Then large puffs.
  Pheasants and phea-      Forced capons.         Thistle-finches.
    sant poots.            Parmesan cheese.       Whore's farts.
  Peacocks.                Red and pale hip-      Fritters.
  Storks.                    pocras.              Cakes, sixteen sorts.
  Woodcocks.               Gold-peaches.          Crisp wafers.
  Snipes.                  Artichokes.            Quince tarts.
  Ortolans.                Dry and wet sweet-     Curds and cream.
  Turkey cocks, hen          meats, seventy-      Whipped cream.
    turkeys, and turkey      eight sorts.         Preserved mirabo-
    poots.                 Boiled hens, and fat     lans.
  Stock-doves, and           capons marinated.    Jellies.
    wood-culvers.          Pullets, with eggs.    Welsh barrapyclids.
  Pigs, with wine sauce.   Chickens.              Macaroons.
  Blackbirds, ousels, and  Rabbits, and sucking   Tarts, twenty sorts.
    rails.                   rabbits.             Lemon cream, rasp-
  Moorhens.                Quails, and young        berry cream, &c.
  Bustards, and bustard      quails.              Comfits, one hundred
    poots.                 Pigeons, squabs, and     colours.
  Fig-peckers.               squeakers.           Cream wafers.
  Young Guinea hens.       Fieldfares.            Cream cheese.
  
  Vinegar brought up the rear to wash the mouth, and for fear of the squinsy;
  also toasts to scour the grinders.
  
  
  
  
  What the Gastrolaters sacrificed to their god on interlarded fish-days.
  
  Pantagruel did not like this pack of rascally scoundrels with their
  manifold kitchen sacrifices, and would have been gone had not Epistemon
  prevailed with him to stay and see the end of the farce.  He then asked the
  skipper what the idle lobcocks used to sacrifice to their gorbellied god on
  interlarded fish-days.  For his first course, said the skipper, they gave
  him:
  
  Caviare.                  tops, bishop's-cods,    Red herrings.
  Botargoes.                celery, chives, ram-    Pilchards.
  Fresh butter.             pions, jew's-ears (a    Anchovies.
  Pease soup.               sort of mushrooms       Fry of tunny.
  Spinach.                  that sprout out of      Cauliflowers.
  Fresh herrings, full      old elders), spara-     Beans.
    roed.                   gus, wood-bind,         Salt salmon.
  Salads, a hundred         and a world of          Pickled grigs.
    varieties, of cres-     others.                 Oysters in the shell.
    ses, sodden hop-
  
  Then he must drink, or the devil would gripe him at the throat; this,
  therefore, they take care to prevent, and nothing is wanting.  Which being
  done, they give him lampreys with hippocras sauce:
  
  Gurnards.               Thornbacks.             Fried oysters.
  Salmon trouts.          Sleeves.                Cockles.
  Barbels, great and      Sturgeons.              Prawns.
    small.                Sheath-fish.            Smelts.
  Roaches.                Mackerels.              Rock-fish.
  Cockerels.              Maids.                  Gracious lords.
  Minnows.                Plaice.                 Sword-fish.
  Skate-fish.             Sharplings.             Soles.
  Lamprels.               Tunnies.                Mussels.
  Jegs.                   Silver eels.            Lobsters.
  Pickerels.              Chevins.                Great prawns.
  Golden carps.           Crayfish.               Dace.
  Burbates.               Pallours.               Bleaks.
  Salmons.                Shrimps.                Tenches.
  Salmon-peels.           Congers.                Ombres.
  Dolphins.               Porpoises.              Fresh cods.
  Barn trouts.            Bases.                  Dried melwels.
  Miller's-thumbs.        Shads.                  Darefish.
  Precks.                 Murenes, a sort of      Fausens, and grigs.
  Bret-fish.                lampreys.             Eel-pouts.
  Flounders.              Graylings.              Tortoises.
  Sea-nettles.            Smys.                   Serpents, i.e. wood-
  Mullets.                Turbots.                  eels.
  Gudgeons.               Trout, not above a      Dories.
  Dabs and sandings.        foot long.            Moor-game.
  Haddocks.               Salmons.                Perches.
  Carps.                  Meagers.                Loaches.
  Pikes.                  Sea-breams.             Crab-fish.
  Bottitoes.              Halibuts.               Snails and whelks.
  Rochets.                Dog's tongue, or kind   Frogs.
  Sea-bears.                fool.
  
  If, when he had crammed all this down his guttural trapdoor, he did not
  immediately make the fish swim again in his paunch, death would pack him
  off in a trice.  Special care is taken to antidote his godship with
  vine-tree syrup.  Then is sacrificed to him haberdines, poor-jack,
  minglemangled, mismashed, &c.
  
  Eggs fried, beaten,       sliced, roasted in     Green-fish.
    buttered, poached,      the embers, tossed     Sea-batts.
    hardened, boiled,       in the chimney, &c.    Cod's sounds.
    broiled, stewed,      Stock-fish.              Sea-pikes.
  
  Which to concoct and digest the more easily, vinegar is multiplied.  For
  the latter part of their sacrifices they offer:
  
  Rice milk, and hasty    Stewed prunes, and       Raisins.
    pudding.                baked bullace.         Dates.
  Buttered wheat, and     Pistachios, or fistic    Chestnut and wal-
    flummery.               nuts.                    nuts.
  Water-gruel, and        Figs.                    Filberts.
    milk-porridge.        Almond butter.           Parsnips.
  Frumenty and bonny      Skirret root.            Artichokes.
    clamber.              White-pot.
                Perpetuity of soaking with the whole.
  
  It was none of their fault, I will assure you, if this same god of theirs
  was not publicly, preciously, and plentifully served in the sacrifices,
  better yet than Heliogabalus's idol; nay, more than Bel and the Dragon in
  Babylon, under King Belshazzar.  Yet Gaster had the manners to own that he
  was no god, but a poor, vile, wretched creature.  And as King Antigonus,
  first of the name, when one Hermodotus (as poets will flatter, especially
  princes) in some of his fustian dubbed him a god, and made the sun adopt
  him for his son, said to him:  My lasanophore (or, in plain English, my
  groom of the close-stool) can give thee the lie; so Master Gaster very
  civilly used to send back his bigoted worshippers to his close-stool, to
  see, smell, taste, philosophize, and examine what kind of divinity they
  could pick out of his sir-reverence.
  
  
  
  
  How Gaster invented means to get and preserve corn.
  
  Those gastrolatrous hobgoblins being withdrawn, Pantagruel carefully minded
  the famous master of arts, Gaster.  You know that, by the institution of
  nature, bread has been assigned him for provision and food; and that, as an
  addition to this blessing, he should never want the means to get bread.
  
  Accordingly, from the beginning he invented the smith's art, and husbandry
  to manure the ground, that it might yield him corn; he invented arms and
  the art of war to defend corn; physic and astronomy, with other parts of
  mathematics which might be useful to keep corn a great number of years in
  safety from the injuries of the air, beasts, robbers, and purloiners; he
  invented water, wind, and handmills, and a thousand other engines to grind
  corn and to turn it into meal; leaven to make the dough ferment, and the
  use of salt to give it a savour; for he knew that nothing bred more
  diseases than heavy, unleavened, unsavoury bread.
  
  He found a way to get fire to bake it; hour-glasses, dials, and clocks to
  mark the time of its baking; and as some countries wanted corn, he
  contrived means to convey some out of one country into another.
  
  He had the wit to pimp for asses and mares, animals of different species,
  that they might copulate for the generation of a third, which we call
  mules, more strong and fit for hard service than the other two.  He
  invented carts and waggons to draw him along with greater ease; and as seas
  and rivers hindered his progress, he devised boats, galleys, and ships (to
  the astonishment of the elements) to waft him over to barbarous, unknown,
  and far distant nations, thence to bring, or thither to carry corn.
  
  Besides, seeing that when he had tilled the ground, some years the corn
  perished in it for want of rain in due season, in others rotted or was
  drowned by its excess, sometimes spoiled by hail, eat by worms in the ear,
  or beaten down by storms, and so his stock was destroyed on the ground; we
  were told that ever since the days of yore he has found out a way to
  conjure the rain down from heaven only with cutting certain grass, common
  enough in the field, yet known to very few, some of which was then shown
  us.  I took it to be the same as the plant, one of whose boughs being
  dipped by Jove's priest in the Agrian fountain on the Lycian mountain in
  Arcadia, in time of drought raised vapours which gathered into clouds, and
  then dissolved into rain that kindly moistened the whole country.
  
  Our master of arts was also said to have found a way to keep the rain up in
  the air, and make it to fall into the sea; also to annihilate the hail,
  suppress the winds, and remove storms as the Methanensians of Troezene used
  to do.  And as in the fields thieves and plunderers sometimes stole and
  took by force the corn and bread which others had toiled to get, he
  invented the art of building towns, forts, and castles, to hoard and secure
  that staff of life.  On the other hand, finding none in the fields, and
  hearing that it was hoarded up and secured in towns, forts, and castles,
  and watched with more care than ever were the golden pippins of the
  Hesperides, he turned engineer, and found ways to beat, storm, and demolish
  forts and castles with machines and warlike thunderbolts, battering-rams,
  ballists, and catapults, whose shapes were shown to us, not over-well
  understood by our engineers, architects, and other disciples of Vitruvius;
  as Master Philibert de l'Orme, King Megistus's principal architect, has
  owned to us.
  
  And seeing that sometimes all these tools of destruction were baffled by
  the cunning subtlety or the subtle cunning (which you please) of
  fortifiers, he lately invented cannons, field-pieces, culverins, bombards,
  basiliskos, murdering instruments that dart iron, leaden, and brazen balls,
  some of them outweighing huge anvils.  This by the means of a most dreadful
  powder, whose hellish compound and effect has even amazed nature, and made
  her own herself outdone by art, the Oxydracian thunders, hails, and storms
  by which the people of that name immediately destroyed their enemies in the
  field being but mere potguns to these.  For one of our great guns when used
  is more dreadful, more terrible, more diabolical, and maims, tears, breaks,
  slays, mows down, and sweeps away more men, and causes a greater
  consternation and destruction than a hundred thunderbolts.
  
  
  
  
  How Gaster invented an art to avoid being hurt or touched by cannon-balls.
  
  Gaster having secured himself with his corn within strongholds, has
  sometimes been attacked by enemies; his fortresses, by that thrice
  threefold cursed instrument, levelled and destroyed; his dearly beloved
  corn and bread snatched out of his mouth and sacked by a titanic force;
  therefore he then sought means to preserve his walls, bastions, rampiers,
  and sconces from cannon-shot, and to hinder the bullets from hitting him,
  stopping them in their flight, or at least from doing him or the besieged
  walls any damage.  He showed us a trial of this which has been since used
  by Fronton, and is now common among the pastimes and harmless recreations
  of the Thelemites.  I will tell you how he went to work, and pray for the
  future be a little more ready to believe what Plutarch affirms to have
  tried.  Suppose a herd of goats were all scampering as if the devil drove
  them, do but put a bit of eringo into the mouth of the hindmost nanny, and
  they will all stop stock still in the time you can tell three.
  
  Thus Gaster, having caused a brass falcon to be charged with a sufficient
  quantity of gunpowder well purged from its sulphur, and curiously made up
  with fine camphor, he then had a suitable ball put into the piece, with
  twenty-four little pellets like hail-shot, some round, some pearl fashion;
  then taking his aim and levelling it at a page of his, as if he would have
  hit him on the breast.  About sixty strides off the piece, halfway between
  it and the page in a right line, he hanged on a gibbet by a rope a very
  large siderite or iron-like stone, otherwise called herculean, formerly
  found on Ida in Phrygia by one Magnes, as Nicander writes, and commonly
  called loadstone; then he gave fire to the prime on the piece's touch-hole,
  which in an instant consuming the powder, the ball and hail-shot were with
  incredible violence and swiftness hurried out of the gun at its muzzle,
  that the air might penetrate to its chamber, where otherwise would have
  been a vacuum, which nature abhors so much, that this universal machine,
  heaven, air, land, and sea, would sooner return to the primitive chaos than
  admit the least void anywhere.  Now the ball and small shot, which
  threatened the page with no less than quick destruction, lost their
  impetuosity and remained suspended and hovering round the stone; nor did
  any of them, notwithstanding the fury with which they rushed, reach the
  page.
  
  Master Gaster could do more than all this yet, if you will believe me; for
  he invented a way how to cause bullets to fly backwards, and recoil on
  those that sent them with as great a force, and in the very numerical
  parallel for which the guns were planted.  And indeed, why should he have
  thought this difficult? seeing the herb ethiopis opens all locks
  whatsoever, and an echinus or remora, a silly weakly fish, in spite of all
  the winds that blow from the thirty-two points of the compass, will in the
  midst of a hurricane make you the biggest first-rate remain stock still, as
  if she were becalmed or the blustering tribe had blown their last.  Nay,
  and with the flesh of that fish, preserved with salt, you may fish gold out
  of the deepest well that was ever sounded with a plummet; for it will
  certainly draw up the precious metal, since Democritus affirmed it.
  Theophrastus believed and experienced that there was an herb at whose
  single touch an iron wedge, though never so far driven into a huge log of
  the hardest wood that is, would presently come out; and it is this same
  herb your hickways, alias woodpeckers, use, when with some mighty axe
  anyone stops up the hole of their nests, which they industriously dig and
  make in the trunk of some sturdy tree.  Since stags and hinds, when deeply
  wounded with darts, arrows, and bolts, if they do but meet the herb called
  dittany, which is common in Candia, and eat a little of it, presently the
  shafts come out and all is well again; even as kind Venus cured her beloved
  byblow Aeneas when he was wounded on the right thigh with an arrow by
  Juturna, Turnus's sister.  Since the very wind of laurels, fig-trees, or
  sea-calves makes the thunder sheer off insomuch that it never strikes them.
  Since at the sight of a ram, mad elephants recover their former senses.
  Since mad bulls coming near wild fig-trees, called caprifici, grow tame,
  and will not budge a foot, as if they had the cramp.  Since the venomous
  rage of vipers is assuaged if you but touch them with a beechen bough.
  Since also Euphorion writes that in the isle of Samos, before Juno's temple
  was built there, he has seen some beasts called neades, whose voice made
  the neighbouring places gape and sink into a chasm and abyss.  In short,
  since elders grow of a more pleasing sound, and fitter to make flutes, in
  such places where the crowing of cocks is not heard, as the ancient sages
  have writ and Theophrastus relates; as if the crowing of a cock dulled,
  flattened, and perverted the wood of the elder, as it is said to astonish
  and stupify with fear that strong and resolute animal, a lion.  I know that
  some have understood this of wild elder, that grows so far from towns or
  villages that the crowing of cocks cannot reach near it; and doubtless that
  sort ought to be preferred to the stenching common elder that grows about
  decayed and ruined places; but others have understood this in a higher
  sense, not literal, but allegorical, according to the method of the
  Pythagoreans, as when it was said that Mercury's statue could not be made
  of every sort of wood; to which sentence they gave this sense, that God is
  not to be worshipped in a vulgar form, but in a chosen and religious
  manner.  In the same manner, by this elder which grows far from places
  where cocks are heard, the ancients meant that the wise and studious ought
  not to give their minds to trivial or vulgar music, but to that which is
  celestial, divine, angelical, more abstracted, and brought from remoter
  parts, that is, from a region where the crowing of cocks is not heard; for,
  to denote a solitary and unfrequented place, we say cocks are never heard
  to crow there.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel fell asleep near the island of Chaneph, and of the problems
  proposed to be solved when he waked.
  
  The next day, merrily pursuing our voyage, we came in sight of the island
  of Chaneph, where Pantagruel's ship could not arrive, the wind chopping
  about, and then failing us so that we were becalmed, and could hardly get
  ahead, tacking about from starboard to larboard, and larboard to starboard,
  though to our sails we added drabblers.
  
  With this accident we were all out of sorts, moping, drooping,
  metagrabolized, as dull as dun in the mire, in C sol fa ut flat, out of
  tune, off the hinges, and I-don't-know-howish, without caring to speak one
  single syllable to each other.
  
  Pantagruel was taking a nap, slumbering and nodding on the quarter-deck by
  the cuddy, with an Heliodorus in his hand; for still it was his custom to
  sleep better by book than by heart.
  
  Epistemon was conjuring, with his astrolabe, to know what latitude we were
  in.
  
  Friar John was got into the cook-room, examining, by the ascendant of the
  spits and the horoscope of ragouts and fricassees, what time of day it
  might then be.
  
  Panurge (sweet baby!) held a stalk of Pantagruelions, alias hemp, next his
  tongue, and with it made pretty bubbles and bladders.
  
  Gymnast was making tooth-pickers with lentisk.
  
  Ponocrates, dozing, dozed, and dreaming, dreamed; tickled himself to make
  himself laugh, and with one finger scratched his noddle where it did not
  itch.
  
  Carpalin, with a nutshell and a trencher of verne (that's a card in
  Gascony), was making a pretty little merry windmill, cutting the card
  longways into four slips, and fastening them with a pin to the convex of
  the nut, and its concave to the tarred side of the gunnel of the ship.
  
  Eusthenes, bestriding one of the guns, was playing on it with his fingers
  as if it had been a trump-marine.
  
  Rhizotome, with the soft coat of a field tortoise, alias ycleped a mole,
  was making himself a velvet purse.
  
  Xenomanes was patching up an old weather-beaten lantern with a hawk's
  jesses.
  
  Our pilot (good man!) was pulling maggots out of the seamen's noses.
  
  At last Friar John, returning from the forecastle, perceived that
  Pantagruel was awake.  Then breaking this obstinate silence, he briskly and
  cheerfully asked him how a man should kill time, and raise good weather,
  during a calm at sea.
  
  Panurge, whose belly thought his throat cut, backed the motion presently,
  and asked for a pill to purge melancholy.
  
  Epistemon also came on, and asked how a man might be ready to bepiss
  himself with laughing when he has no heart to be merry.
  
  Gymnast, arising, demanded a remedy for a dimness of eyes.
  
  Ponocrates, after he had a while rubbed his noddle and shaken his ears,
  asked how one might avoid dog-sleep.  Hold! cried Pantagruel, the
  Peripatetics have wisely made a rule that all problems, questions, and
  doubts which are offered to be solved ought to be certain, clear, and
  intelligible.  What do you mean by dog-sleep?  I mean, answered Ponocrates,
  to sleep fasting in the sun at noonday, as the dogs do.
  
  Rhizotome, who lay stooping on the pump, raised his drowsy head, and lazily
  yawning, by natural sympathy set almost everyone in the ship a-yawning too;
  then he asked for a remedy against oscitations and gapings.
  
  Xenomanes, half puzzled, and tired out with new-vamping his antiquated
  lantern, asked how the hold of the stomach might be so well ballasted and
  freighted from the keel to the main hatch, with stores well stowed, that
  our human vessels might not heel or be walt, but well trimmed and stiff.
  
  Carpalin, twirling his diminutive windmill, asked how many motions are to
  be felt in nature before a gentleman may be said to be hungry.
  
  Eusthenes, hearing them talk, came from between decks, and from the capstan
  called out to know why a man that is fasting, bit by a serpent also
  fasting, is in greater danger of death than when man and serpent have eat
  their breakfasts;--why a man's fasting-spittle is poisonous to serpents and
  venomous creatures.
  
  One single solution may serve for all your problems, gentlemen, answered
  Pantagruel; and one single medicine for all such symptoms and accidents.
  My answer shall be short, not to tire you with a long needless train of
  pedantic cant.  The belly has no ears, nor is it to be filled with fair
  words; you shall be answered to content by signs and gestures.  As formerly
  at Rome, Tarquin the Proud, its last king, sent an answer by signs to his
  son Sextus, who was among the Gabii at Gabii.  (Saying this, he pulled the
  string of a little bell, and Friar John hurried away to the cook-room.)
  The son having sent his father a messenger to know how he might bring the
  Gabii under a close subjection, the king, mistrusting the messenger, made
  him no answer, and only took him into his privy garden, and in his presence
  with his sword lopped off the heads of the tall poppies that were there.
  The express returned without any other despatch, yet having related to the
  prince what he had seen his father do, he easily understood that by those
  signs he advised him to cut off the heads of the chief men in the town, the
  better to keep under the rest of the people.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel gave no answer to the problems.
  
  Pantagruel then asked what sort of people dwelt in that damned island.
  They are, answered Xenomanes, all hypocrites, holy mountebanks, tumblers of
  beads, mumblers of ave-marias, spiritual comedians, sham saints, hermits,
  all of them poor rogues who, like the hermit of Lormont between Blaye and
  Bordeaux, live wholly on alms given them by passengers.  Catch me there if
  you can, cried Panurge; may the devil's head-cook conjure my bumgut into a
  pair of bellows if ever you find me among them!  Hermits, sham saints,
  living forms of mortification, holy mountebanks, avaunt! in the name of
  your father Satan, get out of my sight!  When the devil's a hog, you shall
  eat bacon.  I shall not forget yet awhile our fat Concilipetes of Chesil.
  O that Beelzebub and Astaroth had counselled them to hang themselves out of
  the way, and they had done't! we had not then suffered so much by devilish
  storms as we did for having seen 'em.  Hark ye me, dear rogue, Xenomanes,
  my friend, I prithee are these hermits, hypocrites, and eavesdroppers maids
  or married?  Is there anything of the feminine gender among them?  Could a
  body hypocritically take there a small hypocritical touch?  Will they lie
  backwards, and let out their fore-rooms?  There's a fine question to be
  asked, cried Pantagruel.  Yes, yes, answered Xenomanes; you may find there
  many goodly hypocritesses, jolly spiritual actresses, kind hermitesses,
  women that have a plaguy deal of religion; then there's the copies of 'em,
  little hypocritillons, sham sanctitos, and hermitillons.  Foh! away with
  them, cried Friar John; a young saint, an old devil!  (Mark this, an old
  saying, and as true a one as, a young whore, an old saint.)  Were there not
  such, continued Xenomanes, the isle of Chaneph, for want of a
  multiplication of progeny, had long ere this been desert and desolate.
  
  Pantagruel sent them by Gymnast in the pinnace seventy-eight thousand fine
  pretty little gold half-crowns, of those that are marked with a lantern.
  After this he asked, What's o'clock?  Past nine, answered Epistemon.  It is
  then the best time to go to dinner, said Pantagruel; for the sacred line so
  celebrated by Aristophanes in his play called Concionatrices is at hand,
  never failing when the shadow is decempedal.
  
  Formerly, among the Persians, dinner-time was at a set hour only for kings;
  as for all others, their appetite and their belly was their clock; when
  that chimed, they thought it time to go to dinner.  So we find in Plautus a
  certain parasite making a heavy do, and sadly railing at the inventors of
  hour-glasses and dials as being unnecessary things, there being no clock
  more regular than the belly.
  
  Diogenes being asked at what times a man ought to eat, answered, The rich
  when he is hungry, the poor when he has anything to eat.  Physicians more
  properly say that the canonical hours are,
  
    To rise at five, to dine at nine,
    To sup at five, to sleep at nine.
  
  The famous king Petosiris's magic was different,--Here the officers for the
  gut came in, and got ready the tables and cupboards; laid the cloth, whose
  sight and pleasant smell were very comfortable; and brought plates,
  napkins, salts, tankards, flagons, tall-boys, ewers, tumblers, cups,
  goblets, basins, and cisterns.
  
  Friar John, at the head of the stewards, sewers, yeomen of the pantry, and
  of the mouth, tasters, carvers, cupbearers, and cupboard-keepers, brought
  four stately pasties, so huge that they put me in mind of the four bastions
  at Turin.  Ods-fish, how manfully did they storm them!  What havoc did they
  make with the long train of dishes that came after them!  How bravely did
  they stand to their pan-puddings, and paid off their dust!  How merrily did
  they soak their noses!
  
  The fruit was not yet brought in, when a fresh gale at west and by north
  began to fill the main-course, mizen-sail, fore-sail, tops, and
  top-gallants; for which blessing they all sung divers hymns of thanks and
  praise.
  
  When the fruit was on the table, Pantagruel asked, Now tell me, gentlemen,
  are your doubts fully resolved or no?  I gape and yawn no more, answered
  Rhizotome.  I sleep no longer like a dog, said Ponocrates.  I have cleared
  my eyesight, said Gymnast.  I have broke my fast, said Eusthenes; so that
  for this whole day I shall be secure from the danger of my spittle.
  
  Asps.             Black wag leg-flies.  Domeses.
  Amphisbenes.      Spanish flies.        Dryinades.
  Anerudutes.       Catoblepes.           Dragons.
  Abedissimons.     Horned snakes.        Elopes.
  Alhartrafz.       Caterpillars.         Enhydrides.
  Ammobates.        Crocodiles.           Falvises.
  Apimaos.          Toads.                Galeotes.
  Alhatrabans.      Nightmares.           Harmenes.
  Aractes.          Mad dogs.             Handons.
  Asterions.        Colotes.              Icles.
  Alcharates.       Cychriodes.           Jarraries.
  Arges.            Cafezates.            Ilicines.
  Spiders.          Cauhares.             Pharaoh's mice.
  Starry lizards.   Snakes.               Kesudures.
  Attelabes.        Cuhersks, two-        Sea-hares.
  Ascalabotes.        tongued adders.     Chalcidic newts.
  Haemorrhoids.     Amphibious ser-       Footed serpents.
  Basilisks.          pents.              Manticores.
  Fitches.          Cenchres.             Molures.
  Sucking water-    Cockatrices.          Mouse-serpents.
    snakes.         Dipsades.             Shrew-mice.
  Miliares.         Salamanders.          Stinkfish.
  Megalaunes.       Slowworms.            Stuphes.
  Spitting-asps.    Stellions.            Sabrins.
  Porphyri.         Scorpenes.            Blood-sucking flies.
  Pareades.         Scorpions.            Hornfretters.
  Phalanges.        Hornworms.            Scolopendres.
  Penphredons.      Scalavotins.          Tarantulas.
  Pinetree-worms.   Solofuidars.          Blind worms.
  Ruteles.          Deaf-asps.            Tetragnathias.
  Worms.            Horseleeches.         Teristales.
  Rhagions.         Salt-haters.          Vipers, &c.
  Rhaganes.         Rot-serpents.
  
  
  
  
  How Pantagruel passed the time with his servants.
  
  In what hierarchy of such venomous creatures do you place Panurge's future
  spouse? asked Friar John.  Art thou speaking ill of women, cried Panurge,
  thou mangy scoundrel, thou sorry, noddy-peaked shaveling monk?  By the
  cenomanic paunch and gixy, said Epistemon, Euripides has written, and makes
  Andromache say it, that by industry, and the help of the gods, men had
  found remedies against all poisonous creatures; but none was yet found
  against a bad wife.
  
  This flaunting Euripides, cried Panurge, was gabbling against women every
  foot, and therefore was devoured by dogs, as a judgment from above; as
  Aristophanes observes.  Let's go on.  Let him speak that is next.  I can
  leak now like any stone-horse, said then Epistemon.  I am, said Xenomanes,
  full as an egg and round as a hoop; my ship's hold can hold no more, and
  will now make shift to bear a steady sail.  Said Carpalin, A truce with
  thirst, a truce with hunger; they are strong, but wine and meat are
  stronger.  I'm no more in the dumps cried Panurge; my heart's a pound
  lighter.  I'm in the right cue now, as brisk as a body-louse, and as merry
  as a beggar.  For my part, I know what I do when I drink; and it is a true
  thing (though 'tis in your Euripides) that is said by that jolly toper
  Silenus of blessed memory, that--
  
    The man's emphatically mad,
    Who drinks the best, yet can be sad.
  
  We must not fail to return our humble and hearty thanks to the Being who,
  with this good bread, this cool delicious wine, these good meats and rare
  dainties, removes from our bodies and minds these pains and perturbations,
  and at the same time fills us with pleasure and with food.
  
  But methinks, sir, you did not give an answer to Friar John's question;
  which, as I take it, was how to raise good weather.  Since you ask no more
  than this easy question, answered Pantagruel, I'll strive to give you
  satisfaction; and some other time we'll talk of the rest of the problems,
  if you will.
  
  Well then, Friar John asked how good weather might be raised.  Have we not
  raised it?  Look up and see our full topsails.  Hark how the wind whistles
  through the shrouds, what a stiff gale it blows.  Observe the rattling of
  the tacklings, and see the sheets that fasten the mainsail behind; the
  force of the wind puts them upon the stretch.  While we passed our time
  merrily, the dull weather also passed away; and while we raised the glasses
  to our mouths, we also raised the wind by a secret sympathy in nature.
  
  Thus Atlas and Hercules clubbed to raise and underprop the falling sky, if
  you'll believe the wise mythologists, but they raised it some half an inch
  too high, Atlas to entertain his guest Hercules more pleasantly, and
  Hercules to make himself amends for the thirst which some time before had
  tormented him in the deserts of Africa.  Your good father, said Friar John,
  interrupting him, takes care to free many people from such an
  inconveniency; for I have been told by many venerable doctors that his
  chief-butler, Turelupin, saves above eighteen hundred pipes of wine yearly
  to make servants, and all comers and goers, drink before they are a-dry.
  As the camels and dromedaries of a caravan, continued Pantagruel, use to
  drink for the thirst that's past, for the present, and for that to come, so
  did Hercules; and being thus excessively raised, this gave new motion to
  the sky, which is that of titubation and trepidation, about which our
  crackbrained astrologers make such a pother.  This, said Panurge, makes the
  saying good:
  
    While jolly companions carouse it together,
    A fig for the storm, it gives way to good weather.
  
  Nay, continued Pantagruel, some will tell you that we have not only
  shortened the time of the calm, but also much disburthened the ship; not
  like Aesop's basket, by easing it of the provision, but by breaking our
  fasts; and that a man is more terrestrial and heavy when fasting than when
  he has eaten and drank, even as they pretend that he weighs more dead than
  living.  However it is, you will grant they are in the right who take their
  morning's draught and breakfast before a long journey; then say that the
  horses will perform the better, and that a spur in the head is worth two in
  the flank; or, in the same horse dialect--
  
    That a cup in the pate
    Is a mile in the gate.
  
  Don't you know that formerly the Amycleans worshipped the noble Bacchus
  above all other gods, and gave him the name of Psila, which in the Doric
  dialect signifies wings; for, as the birds raise themselves by a towering
  flight with their wings above the clouds, so, with the help of soaring
  Bacchus, the powerful juice of the grape, our spirits are exalted to a
  pitch above themselves, our bodies are more sprightly, and their earthly
  parts become soft and pliant.
  
  
  
  
  How, by Pantagruel's order, the Muses were saluted near the isle of
  Ganabim.
  
  This fair wind and as fine talk brought us in sight of a high land, which
  Pantagruel discovering afar off, showed it Xenomanes, and asked him, Do you
  see yonder to the leeward a high rock with two tops, much like Mount
  Parnassus in Phocis?  I do plainly, answered Xenomanes; 'tis the isle of
  Ganabim.  Have you a mind to go ashore there?  No, returned Pantagruel.
  You do well, indeed, said Xenomanes; for there is nothing worth seeing in
  the place.  The people are all thieves; yet there is the finest fountain in
  the world, and a very large forest towards the right top of the mountain.
  Your fleet may take in wood and water there.
  
  He that spoke last, spoke well, quoth Panurge; let us not by any means be
  so mad as to go among a parcel of thieves and sharpers.  You may take my
  word for't, this place is just such another as, to my knowledge, formerly
  were the islands of Sark and Herm, between the smaller and the greater
  Britain; such as was the Poneropolis of Philip in Thrace; islands of
  thieves, banditti, picaroons, robbers, ruffians, and murderers, worse than
  raw-head and bloody-bones, and full as honest as the senior fellows of the
  college of iniquity, the very outcasts of the county gaol's common-side.
  As you love yourself, do not go among 'em.  If you go you'll come off but
  bluely, if you come off at all.  If you will not believe me, at least
  believe what the good and wise Xenomanes tells you; for may I never stir if
  they are not worse than the very cannibals; they would certainly eat us
  alive.  Do not go among 'em, I pray you; it were safer to take a journey to
  hell.  Hark! by Cod's body, I hear 'em ringing the alarm-bell most
  dreadfully, as the Gascons about Bordeaux used formerly to do against the
  commissaries and officers for the tax on salt, or my ears tingle.  Let's
  sheer off.
  
  Believe me, sir, said Friar John, let's rather land; we will rid the world
  of that vermin, and inn there for nothing.  Old Nick go with thee for me,
  quoth Panurge.  This rash hairbrained devil of a friar fears nothing, but
  ventures and runs on like a mad devil as he is, and cares not a rush what
  becomes of others; as if everyone was a monk, like his friarship.  A pox on
  grinning honour, say I.  Go to, returned the friar, thou mangy noddy-peak!
  thou forlorn druggle-headed sneaksby! and may a million of black devils
  anatomize thy cockle brain.  The hen-hearted rascal is so cowardly that he
  berays himself for fear every day.  If thou art so afraid, dunghill, do not
  go; stay here and be hanged; or go and hide thy loggerhead under Madam
  Proserpine's petticoat.
  
  Panurge hearing this, his breech began to make buttons; so he slunk in in
  an instant, and went to hide his head down in the bread-room among the
  musty biscuits and the orts and scraps of broken bread.
  
  Pantagruel in the meantime said to the rest:  I feel a pressing retraction
  in my soul, which like a voice admonishes me not to land there.  Whenever I
  have felt such a motion within me I have found myself happy in avoiding
  what it directed me to shun, or in undertaking what it prompted me to do;
  and I never had occasion to repent following its dictates.
  
  As much, said Epistemon, is related of the daemon of Socrates, so
  celebrated among the Academics.  Well then, sir, said Friar John, while the
  ship's crew water have you a mind to have good sport?  Panurge is got down
  somewhere in the hold, where he is crept into some corner, and lurks like a
  mouse in a cranny.  Let 'em give the word for the gunner to fire yon gun
  over the round-house on the poop; this will serve to salute the Muses of
  this Anti-parnassus; besides, the powder does but decay in it.  You are in
  the right, said Pantagruel; here, give the word for the gunner.
  
  The gunner immediately came, and was ordered by Pantagruel to fire that
  gun, and then charge it with fresh powder, which was soon done.  The
  gunners of the other ships, frigates, galleons, and galleys of the fleet,
  hearing us fire, gave every one a gun to the island; which made such a
  horrid noise that you would have sworn heaven had been tumbling about our
  ears.
  
  
  
  
  How Panurge berayed himself for fear; and of the huge cat Rodilardus, which
  he took for a puny devil.
  
  Panurge, like a wild, addle-pated, giddy-goat, sallies out of the
  bread-room in his shirt, with nothing else about him but one of his
  stockings, half on, half off, about his heel, like a rough-footed pigeon;
  his hair and beard all bepowdered with crumbs of bread in which he had been
  over head and ears, and a huge and mighty puss partly wrapped up in his
  other stocking.  In this equipage, his chaps moving like a monkey's who's
  a-louse-hunting, his eyes staring like a dead pig's, his teeth chattering,
  and his bum quivering, the poor dog fled to Friar John, who was then sitting
  by the chain-wales of the starboard side of the ship, and prayed him
  heartily to take pity on him and keep him in the safeguard of his trusty
  bilbo; swearing, by his share of Papimany, that he had seen all hell broke
  loose.
  
  Woe is me, my Jacky, cried he, my dear Johnny, my old crony, my brother, my
  ghostly father! all the devils keep holiday, all the devils keep their
  feast to-day, man.  Pork and peas choke me if ever thou sawest such
  preparations in thy life for an infernal feast.  Dost thou see the smoke of
  hell's kitchens?  (This he said, showing him the smoke of the gunpowder
  above the ships.)  Thou never sawest so many damned souls since thou wast
  born; and so fair, so bewitching they seem, that one would swear they are
  Stygian ambrosia.  I thought at first, God forgive me! that they had been
  English souls; and I don't know but that this morning the isle of Horses,
  near Scotland, was sacked, with all the English who had surprised it, by
  the lords of Termes and Essay.
  
  Friar John, at the approach of Panurge, was entertained with a kind of
  smell that was not like that of gunpowder, nor altogether so sweet as musk;
  which made him turn Panurge about, and then he saw that his shirt was
  dismally bepawed and berayed with fresh sir-reverence.  The retentive
  faculty of the nerve which restrains the muscle called sphincter ('tis the
  arse-hole, an it please you) was relaxated by the violence of the fear
  which he had been in during his fantastic visions.  Add to this the
  thundering noise of the shooting, which seems more dreadful between decks
  than above.  Nor ought you to wonder at such a mishap; for one of the
  symptoms and accidents of fear is, that it often opens the wicket of the
  cupboard wherein second-hand meat is kept for a time.  Let's illustrate
  this noble theme with some examples.
  
  Messer Pantolfe de la Cassina of Siena, riding post from Rome, came to
  Chambery, and alighting at honest Vinet's took one of the pitchforks in the
  stable; then turning to the innkeeper, said to him, Da Roma in qua io non
  son andato del corpo.  Di gratia piglia in mano questa forcha, et fa mi
  paura.  (I have not had a stool since I left Rome.  I pray thee take this
  pitchfork and fright me.)  Vinet took it, and made several offers as if he
  would in good earnest have hit the signor, but all in vain; so the Sienese
  said to him, Si tu non fai altramente, tu non fai nulla; pero sforzati di
  adoperarli piu guagliardamente.  (If thou dost not go another way to work,
  thou hadst as good do nothing; therefore try to bestir thyself more
  briskly.)  With this, Vinet lent him such a swinging stoater with the
  pitchfork souse between the neck and the collar of his jerkin, that down
  fell signor on the ground arsyversy, with his spindle shanks wide
  straggling over his poll.  Then mine host sputtering, with a full-mouthed
  laugh, said to his guest, By Beelzebub's bumgut, much good may it do you,
  Signore Italiano.  Take notice this is datum Camberiaci, given at Chambery.
  'Twas well the Sienese had untrussed his points and let down his drawers;
  for this physic worked with him as soon as he took it, and as copious was
  the evacuation as that of nine buffaloes and fourteen missificating
  arch-lubbers.  Which operation being over, the mannerly Sienese courteously
  gave mine host a whole bushel of thanks, saying to him, Io ti ringratio, bel
  messere; cosi facendo tu m' ai esparmiata la speza d'un servitiale.  (I
  thank thee, good landlord; by this thou hast e'en saved me the expense of a
  clyster.)
  
  I'll give you another example of Edward V., King of England.  Master
  Francis Villon, being banished France, fled to him, and got so far into his
  favour as to be privy to all his household affairs.  One day the king,
  being on his close-stool, showed Villon the arms of France, and said to
  him, Dost thou see what respect I have for thy French kings?  I have none
  of their arms anywhere but in this backside, near my close-stool.
  Ods-life, said the buffoon, how wise, prudent, and careful of your health
  your highness is!  How carefully your learned doctor, Thomas Linacre, looks
  after you!  He saw that now you grow old you are inclined to be somewhat
  costive, and every day were fain to have an apothecary, I mean a suppository
  or clyster, thrust into your royal nockandroe; so he has, much to the
  purpose, induced you to place here the arms of France; for the very sight of
  them puts you into such a dreadful fright that you immediately let fly as
  much as would come from eighteen squattering bonasi of Paeonia.  And if they
  were painted in other parts of your house, by jingo, you would presently
  conskite yourself wherever you saw them.  Nay, had you but here a picture of
  the great oriflamme of France, ods-bodikins, your tripes and bowels would be
  in no small danger of dropping out at the orifice of your posteriors.  But
  henh, henh, atque iterum henh.
  
    A silly cockney am I not,
      As ever did from Paris come?
    And with a rope and sliding knot
      My neck shall know what weighs my bum.
  
  A cockney of short reach, I say, shallow of judgment and judging shallowly,
  to wonder that you should cause your points to be untrussed in your chamber
  before you come into this closet.  By'r lady, at first I thought your
  close-stool had stood behind the hangings of your bed; otherwise it seemed
  very odd to me you should untruss so far from the place of evacuation.  But
  now I find I was a gull, a wittol, a woodcock, a mere ninny, a dolt-head, a
  noddy, a changeling, a calf-lolly, a doddipoll.  You do wisely, by the
  mass, you do wisely; for had you not been ready to clap your hind face on
  the mustard-pot as soon as you came within sight of these arms--mark ye me,
  cop's body--the bottom of your breeches had supplied the office of a
  close-stool.
  
  Friar John, stopping the handle of his face with his left hand, did, with
  the forefinger of the right, point out Panurge's shirt to Pantagruel, who,
  seeing him in this pickle, scared, appalled, shivering, raving, staring,
  berayed, and torn with the claws of the famous cat Rodilardus, could not
  choose but laugh, and said to him, Prithee what wouldst thou do with this
  cat?  With this cat? quoth Panurge; the devil scratch me if I did not think
  it had been a young soft-chinned devil, which, with this same stocking
  instead of mitten, I had snatched up in the great hutch of hell as
  thievishly as any sizar of Montague college could have done.  The devil
  take Tybert!  I feel it has all bepinked my poor hide, and drawn on it to
  the life I don't know how many lobsters' whiskers.  With this he threw his
  boar-cat down.
  
  Go, go, said Pantagruel, be bathed and cleaned, calm your fears, put on a
  clean shift, and then your clothes.  What! do you think I am afraid? cried
  Panurge.  Not I, I protest.  By the testicles of Hercules, I am more
  hearty, bold, and stout, though I say it that should not, than if I had
  swallowed as many flies as are put into plumcakes and other paste at Paris
  from Midsummer to Christmas.  But what's this?  Hah! oh, ho! how the devil
  came I by this?  Do you call this what the cat left in the malt, filth,
  dirt, dung, dejection, faecal matter, excrement, stercoration,
  sir-reverence, ordure, second-hand meats, fumets, stronts, scybal, or
  spyrathe? 'Tis Hibernian saffron, I protest.  Hah, hah, hah! 'tis Irish
  saffron, by Shaint Pautrick, and so much for this time.  Selah.  Let's
  drink.
  
  
  
feat_summary_name: Book 4
target: The fourth book begins where the third book left off. Pantagruel, Panurge, Epistemon, Friar John, and all the other companions prepare the eleven ships for the voyage to The Oracle of the Holy Bottle in Lantern Land. Pantagruel names his flagship the Thalamege, and each of the other ten ships is identified by items hung on the stern of each ship, and these items signify different aspects of the mission or they are charms meant to attract good fortune during the mission. Pantagruel and his companions plan to leave from the port of Thalassa, and they have chartered a route that will take them around Africa and up by India within four months. After traveling for several months by sea, Pantagruel and his companions finally make their way to the island of Medamothy. On this peculiar island, all of Pantagruel's companions purchase unique items. Pantagruel himself purchases three unicorns, tapestries that relate the story of Achilles' adventurers, beautiful paintings, and a beast known as a tarand, which is as big as a bull with the head of a deer and has fur that changes color based on its surroundings. It is on the island of Medamothy where Pantagruel receives word from his father via one of his father's servants, Malicorne, who was able to arrive so quickly, because he rode on a smaller ship, the Chelidonia, which is capable of faster speeds. Malicorne brings good tidings from his father as well as a letter. Malicorne also provides Pantagruel with a pigeon so that Pantagruel may send his father a simple message through the use of attaching a colored ribbon to the leg of the pigeon. According to their prearranged code, a black ribbon would imply that something horrible has occurred, whereas a white ribbon would explain that all was well. Having experienced no tragedies upon the voyage thus far, Pantagruel attaches a white ribbon to the leg of the pigeon, and lets it fly homeward to his father. Pantagruel also writes to his father, thanking his father for his thoughtfulness in sending a messenger to him. Within his letter, Pantagruel also explains that he will be sending back several curious items that he has recently purchased, including the unicorns, the Achilles tapestry, and the strange tarand beast. Pantagruel wishes his father well in the letter, and implies that he will write to his father as often as possible concerning the adventures of the voyage to the oracle. Pantagruel then sends the letter along with the curious items to his father by giving them over to Malicorne. As Pantagruel and his companions set out away from the island of Medamothy, they meet a ship with passengers returning from Lantern Land. As they mingle with these other passengers, a sheep merchant by the name of Dingdong notices that Panurge does not wear a codpiece, and that he has metal spectacles attached to his hat. Dingdong whispers to those near him about how Panurge has a cuckold's medal on his head, which of course starts a rather heated argument between Dingdong and Panurge. The two are forced to stop the fight, though, in order to maintain morale of the ship. As an attempt to smooth things over with the sheep merchant, Panurge offers to purchase one of Dingdong's sheep. Dingdong babbles on about the quality of his sheep, how they will be sold to royal houses, how their wool will be made into luxurious fabrics, and so on. As he babbles on, Panurge repeatedly asks how much he wants for one of the sheep. Finally, one of the other sheep merchants insists that Dingdong stop giving Panurge a difficult time and simply sell him a sheep. Dingdong agrees, and then he makes the transaction. After finally getting Dingdong to sell one of his sheep, Panurge picks up his new sheep, and throws it over the edge of the ship and into the water. Hearing their fellow sheep in the water, the rest of the sheep follow the sound and they all run over the edge of the ship and into the ocean where they will no doubt drown. Dingdong and his fellow sheep merchants try to stop the sheep, but they have no luck in the matter, and instead they get pulled over the edge by the sheep, where they too fall into the ocean and drown. Panurge asks Friar John for his opinion on the matter of what just occurred, and Friar John replies that Panurge should not have paid the man if this was his plan all along, because now the drowned man has his money. Panurge says that the payment was worth the fun, and then Panurge goes on to explain how that when he is wronged by someone, he will gladly take vengeance upon them, and the vengeance will be far greater than the initial offense. Although Panurge just murdered several people and killed a bunch of sheep, no one says anything negative about the whole situation. Friar John does say that Panurge has damned himself like an old devil, but it seems to be a passing comment, and not a serious accusation. The next island they sail to is the island of Ennasin. Upon talking with the locals, Pantagruel and his companions learn that everyone on this island is related to one another either closely or distantly. They have not allowed marriage with outsiders for some time, although the people of the island seem to have no problem with Pantagruel his companions visiting. As they walk around the island, they listen to how the men and women talk to one another. Pantagruel and his friends notice that the people of the island don't use such terms as mother, father, brother, sister etc. Instead, when they refer to one another, they use complementary terms, such as pear and cheese, or they use opposing terms to signify their dislike for one another. Depending on the relationship between the people, the terms can be highly sexualized. As they journey on, they sail to the island of Chely to meet with King St. Panigon. During this visit, there is much pomp and circumstance going on. Friar John manages to avoid the ceremonies and instead chooses to sneak away into the kitchens to fill his face whilst everyone else deals with the formalities of the visit. Upon Friar John's return to the ship, his companions question him about where he went. He explains that he did not want to deal with the formalities of royalty, and instead preferred to find food in the kitchens. They then discuss who belongs in the kitchen, and Friar John points out that the higher members of royalty tend to avoid the kitchens, for kitchens are places of servitude. Monks, on the other hand, always seem to be found in kitchens. The next island is noted as the land of Pettifogging. In this inhospitable land, the biggest vocation is that of the catchpoles, who are people hired to serve writs and other legal papers. By doing this job, however, the catchpoles risk being beaten and abused by the people receiving the served papers. Thus, as Pantagruel and his friends describe, the catchpoles are paid to be beaten, or else they will starve. Panurge relates the story of the Lord of Basche, a man who was trying to avoid such catchpoles, and so he paid and instructed his staff to put on a fake wedding whenever one of these catchpoles arrived. His reasoning for the fake wedding was because the custom of this region was to punch people at the close of the nuptials to remind everyone of the date of the event. Therefore, through this tableau, the Lord of Basche's servants could beat up the catchpole without being held accountable for the violent act. They perform this stunt on three different occasions, but during the third time, the catchpole got the upper hand, and he actually beats most of the servants fairly well. Unlike the catchpoles who came before, this third catchpole walks away on his own accord, beaten, but still able to move. After passing the island full of catchpoles, they arrive at the islands of Tohu and Bohu. Here, Pantagruel and his companions hoped to capture some fresh food, unfortunately there's not much left on the island, because of the giant Wide-nostrils. Under the guidance of his physicians, Wide-nostrils has been inhaling and swallowing up all manner of items on these islands as well as surrounding islands. He apparently enjoys swallowing windmills the most. Lately, however, Wide-nostrils had been suffering from strange indigestion pains. His physicians recommended that he heat butter on a stove and swallow it to lubricate his intestines. Upon following his doctor's orders, though, Wide-nostrils choked on the butter and died. His death had been fairly recent, as the people on the islands of Tohu and Bohu explain to Pantagruel and his associates. They move on and make their way to the next island, but as they do so, Friar John notices that his dear friend, Pantagruel, seems to be in a state of melancholy. Before Friar John can discover what troubles Pantagruel, a massive storm hits the ship. During the storm, Pantagruel ties himself to the mast. Friar John and the others strip down and start working the lines and the sails in an attempt to try to keep the ship afloat. Panurge, however, becomes overwhelmed with the fear that he will drown, and he starts ranting hysterically. Friar John tries to shame Panurge into proper action, but Panurge's fear is too powerful. After fighting the storm for some time, they all begin to fear that the storm will overtake them. Some of the companions start to consider their own mortality. Others, such as Friar John, challenge the gods of the sea and the tempest. Panurge tries to bargain with God, begging that God stop the storm. Panurge also offers anyone riches untold if they could get him safely to shore. Just as everyone seems to give up hope, Pantagruel spots land. The storm begins to clear away and everyone feels relieved once again. After the storm has passed and everyone is safe, Panurge acts as if he was never afraid. He even pretends that he provided more than his fair share of help during the storm, even though he did nothing but cry and sob the entire time. Friar John cannot stand by and listen to such lies, and he openly accuses Panurge of cowardice. Pantagruel explains that he would never tolerate his servants acting cowardly during such a conflict. Nevertheless, Pantagruel does not punish Panurge for the way he acted. All of the other supporting characters, though, comment on how Panurge acted cowardly, whereas they did their best to fight the storm. On the island of the Macreons, Pantagruel and his companions meet with the good Macrobius. Macrobius tells Pantagruel and his companions about how the ancient heroes died fighting the great monsters of the region, and how certain astronomical signs, such as comets, foretold of the events. Pantagruel then relates a historical story about how Thamous, the pilot of a large ship, was steering his ship toward port when a ghostly voice called for him three times. He answered after the third time, and the voice told him that he must publish the announcement of the death of Pan. Uncertain if the voice was real, Thamous decides he will only make the announcement if his ship is becalmed prior to getting into port. The ship gets close to land, and just then the wind dies completely and all the currents stop pushing his ship forward, so he cries out the announcement, and all the people on the nearby shores hear of Pan's death, and a great sadness fills the land. Pantagruel then makes the allegorical connection between Pan, the kind and mighty shepherd, and Jesus Christ. Both Pan and Christ are noted as being killed in the same fashion, and supposedly died around the same time. Pantagruel and his companions bid farewell to the good Macrobius and set sail for the next stop on their long journey. As they pass by the Sneaking Island, Xenomanes tells everyone about Shrovetide, the sovereign of the Sneaking Island. Xenomanes describes Shrovetide as a young ruler, but a ruler who is both paranoid and shrewd. Shrovetide's island is known for producing beautiful skewers that are sold throughout the world. Apparently, Shrovetide and his people are always at war with the Chitterlings, who reside on the Wild Island. Xenomanes continues to describe Shrovetide further with an enormous list of similes that depict every part of Shrovetide's body, but those similes are not very favorable. After passing the Sneaking Island, Pantagruel sees a monster in the ocean near the Wild Island. As they get closer, they realize that the monster is a whale, also known as a physeter. The narrator describes this particular whale to have three horns. Pantagruel decides that his fleet of eleven ships will go after this monster and kill it. The battle is difficult, but sure enough, they manage to slay the beast and bring the whale to the shore of the Wild Island. As Pantagruel's servants begin to cut up the whale, Pantagruel and his close companions begin to walk around the shore of the island. Immediately they notice that they have been spotted by the wild Chitterlings, and it appears that these natives are preparing to launch a full-scale attack on Pantagruel and his followers. Once again, Panurge acts cowardly as he tries to get himself away from the potential oncoming battle. He even volunteers to go and worn the soldiers on the ships. Friar John openly accuses Panurge of cowardice. Pantagruel, once again, ignores Panurge's cowardly actions, and instead Pantagruel focuses on making a plan. He does not wish to start a battle, but Pantagruel will not be caught off guard either. He decides to make sure the morale of his soldiers is high by requesting that two of his ships' commanders, Colonel Maul-chitterling and Colonel Cut-pudding the younger, join them on the beach for the potential battle, along with the soldiers whom each colonel commands over. Epistemon complements Pantagruel on his clever choice to choose these specific commanders, since their names describe what they wish to accomplish, should they enter into battle with the Chitterlings, . Both the commanders arrive with their soldiers, and Pantagruel explains that they must prepare for battle. The Chitterlings are described in several different ways. Since many of the Chitterlings are female, they are described as snake-like temptresses and tempters. Of course, this is a metaphorical description. Physically, they look like anthropomorphic sausages. Thus, since they look like food, Friar John convinces all the cooks to join him in the battle. As Friar John enlists the cooks, he goes over their names, and all of their names are linked closely to their cooking vocation. For example: "Sour-sauce. Crisp-pig. Carbonado. Sweet-meat," etc. Friar John gets all of the cooks ready to go inside of a great machine known as the Sow. Similar to the Trojan horse, soldiers can get inside of the Sow. Much like a modern-day tank, the soldiers inside of the Sow can shoot out bolts and other ranged weaponry. Friar John plans to have all the cooks inside of the Sow to go to war against the Chitterlings. The Chitterlings build their lines of defense, and then start the battle. Pantagruel and his companions fight the Chitterlings and cut them to pieces, forcing them to retreat. As the Chitterlings begin to retreat, a gigantic, flying, winged-pig with crimson feathers appears. If flies between the armies calling out the word, "Carnival," again and again. As the giant pig flies overhead, mustard falls out of it, and the mustard lands in heaps on the ground. After a short while, the giant pig flies away. With the battle over, Pantagruel and his companions seek out the leader of the Chitterlings, Queen Niphleseth. They converse with the Queen and discover that the Chitterlings started the battle due to false intelligence reports. The Chitterlings were under the impression that Pantagruel and his companions were allies of Shrovetide. The Queen makes all formal apologies and offers to send tribute to Pantagruel's country, along with 78,000 Chitterlings to serve for a period of six months every year. The following day, she sends the first lot of Chitterlings along with her daughter, young Niphleseth, to Pantagruel's homeland. After she does so, Pantagruel explains that it will not be necessary to send so many Chitterlings every year, nor will they be required to pay tribute on a regular basis. He also forgives all actions taken against him and his soldiers. Pantagruel then asks the Queen about the giant pig that flew in the sky after the battle. The Queen explains that Carnival, their patron God, who looks like a giant hog himself, created the flying pig as a way to protect his people, which is why the flying pig cries out Carnival's name. Pantagruel then inquires why mustard falls out of the flying pig. The Queen then states that, for Chitterlings, mustard acts as a magical balm that cures the sick and raises the dead. Unfortunately, the cure of mustard only works on Chitterlings. Sailing away from Queen Niphleseth and the Wild Island, Pantagruel and his companions arrive at the island of Ruach. On this island, the people do not eat food, and instead they feast upon different types of wind. To produce their food, they have even made massive windmills. The wind eaters of Ruach relate to Pantagruel about the problems they have experienced with their diet, especially since the giant Wide-nostrils swallows up their windmills and destroys other parts of their island. Pantagruel announces that they need not worry about Wide-nostrils any longer, for the giant recently died after choking on hot butter. As Pantagruel and his compatriots sail on, they come to the island of Pope-Figland. By talking to the locals, they learn the history of the island's name. Many years ago, the people of the island were called Gaillardets. One day, three Gaillardets went to visit the neighboring island of Papimany during a religious celebration. The Gaillardets mocked the image of the Papimen's Pope by saying "a fig to it." The next day, the Papimen armies overtook the Gaillardets homelands and killed practically everyone, save the women and children. Of the people who were spared, the Papimen gave them a shameful challenge that was identical to what Emperor Frederick Barbarossa did to the people of Milan. The leader of the Papimen placed a fig within the anal crevice of a donkey so that part of the fig was sticking out. He then challenged the survivors that if any of them wanted to live that they would have to remove the fig and then put it back in place without using their hands. Most of the people took part in the shameful act and became slaves to the Papimen people. The Gaillardets' island was then renamed Pope-Figland, as a reminder of their actions against the Papimen. While learning about the island's history, Pantagruel and his friends see a fountain pool where a man is submerged all the way up to his nostrils. Standing around him are three priests, and they are reading a book to try and remove any devil from possessing the man. One of the people nearby explains to Pantagruel and his friends why the man is submerged in the fountain. A few seasons previously, the man, who happens to be a farmer and a plowman, was in his field throwing corn seeds out in the dirt. The farmer had not had much luck farming this piece of land, but he was desperate to make the corn grow. Just then, a devil appears and makes a deal that he will protect the land so that the corn grows, provided that upon the harvest day the devil can keep everything under the dirt while the farmer keeps everything above the dirt. The farmer agrees, and the devil protects the land. Come harvest, the farmer and his workers arrive just as the devil and his workers arrive. The farmer and his crew work together and harvest everything above land, which is all the healthy stocks of corn, whereas the devil and his group get nothing save the dirt chaff. Both groups go to market, but the devil is unable to tempt anyone into buying his product. The devil thought he was being clever, because he thought he would gain all the corn that the farmer had thrown under the dirt. Clearly, this devil did not understand how plants grow. The devil then offers the farmer a second deal similar to the first, but this time the devil explains that everything above ground will belong to him come harvest time, and that everything below ground will belong to the farmer. The devil then asks the farmer what he plans to grow, to which the farmer cleverly responds that he will grow radishes. Again, harvest time happens, and the farmer gets all of the delicious underground radishes, while the devil gets all the worthless leaves. Once again, the devil cannot tempt anyone to buy his wares. Upset at how he has lost out on the first two deals, the devil offers a third and final deal to the farmer. He claims that whoever wins the third challenge will also win complete ownership of the field. The farmer agrees, and so the devil explains that the third challenge will be a clawing match. The farmer goes home in a panic, since he is uncertain of how he will win the day. His wife sees that he is upset and asks him what is going on. He explains everything and believes he is doomed. She assures him that she has a plan to beat the devil. She does not share her plan with her husband, though, so the farmer goes to the priests, confesses everything that has happened, and begs for help. To save his soul, the priests have submerged him in a pool of water and are saying prayers to ward off devil possession. The day when the clawing match was to take place happens to coincide with the day that Pantagruel and his friends have arrived. Just as they finish hearing the story about why the farmer is now submerged in water, they receive word from members of the town that the farmer's wife has beaten the devil. The way she did so was quite clever. She waited at the house for the devil to arrive, and placed herself in a heap on the ground, making sure to cry like a child. When the devil arrived, she told him that her husband had been practicing his clawing on her, and that he had clawed her up so bad that she will surely die. She then said that her husband was out sharpening his claws for the battle. At first the devil does not believe her, but then the woman holds up her skirts so that the devil can see her vaginal region, which to this unknowledgeable devil looks as if someone has ripped her open. Fearful that the farmer will rip him open, the devil runs away in defeat. Pantagruel and his companions leave the island of Pope-Figland and make way to the neighboring island of Papimany. On this island, Pantagruel and his compatriots discover that people are devout Christian zealots who praise all things related to the Pope, since they see the Pope as the living God on earth. They ask Pantagruel and his companions if they have ever been in the presence of the Pope. As a member royalty, Pantagruel has had the privilege of meeting the Pope, as have many of his companions, so the people of Papimany treats Pantagruel and his friends with the utmost respect. They are then welcomed to the island by Homenas, Bishop of Papimany. From the Bishop, they learn of the Papimen's extreme devotion and how they keep holy relics and holy books treasured under lock and key. To view such items requires people to fast for three days and give confession, as a show of worthiness. Panurge explains that they have been fasting all throughout their voyage, and are thus prepared. The bishop believes Panurge, and thus he shows Pantagruel and his companions all the holy relics, including images of the Pope as well as the holy books, known as decretals, which provide all the infinite knowledge that anyone would ever need. After viewing such holy items, and since the bishop believes that Pantagruel and his companions have been fasting for days, he offers them a great feast in honor of their visit and religious devotion. While feasting, everyone discusses stories about how people who are disrespectful to holy relics and holy books are severely punished, while those who respect such artifacts are eternally blessed. In exchange for blessing the island with their presence, Homenas gives Pantagruel pears that only grow on the island. Homenas claims they are the best pears in the world. Pantagruel explains that he will take a cutting home, if he is allowed, and grow these pears and call them good-Christian pears. Upon leaving the island of Papimany, Pantagruel's fleet of ships sails toward the frozen sea. While there, Pantagruel starts to hear people talking, although he cannot see anyone. Everyone else quiets down to listen closely, but they don't hear anything at first. After listening for a while, Pantagruel's companion start to hear something, although they cannot make out what they hear. They then learn that a battle between the Arimaspians and the Nephelibates had taken place in this region of the frozen sea, so Pantagruel and his friends surmise that perhaps the words they are hearing are from those groups of people. Somehow, Pantagruel reaches out and finds the frozen words, grabs them up, and brings them onto the ship's deck. Everyone starts warming up the frozen words and hears all manner of phrases, although the words are gibberish. By the tones of the words, they can determine that some of the words are beautiful, while others are said in hatred. Some words are reminiscent of the sounds of fighting, and other words are the sounds of screaming. Although some of the people on the ship, including Panurge and the unnamed narrator, wish to keep the words, Pantagruel advises against it, and so all the words are set free. Pantagruel and his companion sail away from the frozen sea and arrive at a new island that is supposed to be where the dwelling of Gaster resides. Gaster is known as the first Master of Arts in the world. Pantagruel goes to shore to meet Gaster. It is unclear whether Gaster is a giant, a demigod, or something else, for he has no doubt lived a long time and he has the brilliance and ability to create things far beyond the capabilities of regular people. While on the island, Pantagruel discovers that there are two groups of natives living there, including the Engastrimythes and the Gastrolaters. The first is a group of cheats and charlatans, the second is a group of thugs who walk around the island in gangs and dress up in strange elaborate costumes. The Gastrolaters have made Gaster into their god. They have also built crude statues to him, and they sacrifice exorbitant amounts of food and drink in his honor. Gaster does not want to be a God, and he often refuses many of the sacrifices. According to the stories, Gaster created all of the arts of agriculture, animal husbandry, cooking, civilization, architecture, war, and so many other arts. His purpose for creating these arts started out as a survival technique. He needed food, so he had to figure out how to grow corn; hence, he created agriculture. He then had to find ways to turn the corn into different types of food, store the food, protect the food, and protect the people who were protecting the food. Thus, all of the arts were created for improving the survival rate of people. Pantagruel then learns about how Gaster perfected some of his art forms. For instance, Gaster supposedly found ways to prevent people from being shot by bullets or cannonballs. To avoid gunshot or cannonballs, Gaster explains that one need only place iron-like stone, known as herculean, between yourself and your enemies. The narrator explains that the bullets and cannonballs will stop and hover near the stone. Supposedly, Gaster also invented a way to stop bullets and reverse their trajectory completely, however, the narrator does not provide an explanation of this technique, and instead discusses at length how all manner of herbs and other regular items can do extraordinary things, if applied in the right fashion. As Pantagruel and his comrades spend most of their time sailing, there is a lot of dead time where there is nothing to do. On one such occasion, each of Pantagruel's friends tried to busy themselves with different activities, but by doing so they all became lethargic and bored. Pantagruel takes a nap during this time, but when he rises, each of his friends ask him all manner of questions, including when should one eat, how to avoid boredom, and when should one sleep. Pantagruel provides religious maxims concerning when to sleep and when to eat, but he does not provide an answer for how to eradicate boredom. Pantagruel passes the time with his friends by chatting, talking about local lore, and asking each other questions. When they see the isle of Ganabim, Xenomanes explains that it is not a good place to visit, since it is filled with thieves. He does acknowledge that parts of the island would be suitable for stocking up on wood and water, though. On the isle, however, they can see a mountain that looks like Parnassus, where supposedly the Muses lived. Although Pantagruel has a strong feeling that he should not to visit the island, he at least wants to pay tribute to the Muses, and so he orders his ships to fire cannons as tribute. During such time, Panurge has gone under decks, once again overcome with fear. He and Friar John had gotten into an argument earlier, and Friar John chastised him for his cowardly inclinations, which made Panurge run away and sulk below decks. While Panurge was sulking, the cannon salute to the Muses went off. Panurge panics, for he believes that they have entered into a new battle. Half dressed, Panurge severely soils himself, and gets in a fight with one of the ship's cats, Rodilardus, who Panurge mistook for a small devil. Panurge runs to Friar John and begs him to save his soul. At this point, Panurge is rambling, stained in his own feces, and covered with cat scratches. Friar John points this all out to Pantagruel, and Pantagruel finally has to deal with situation of Panurge's cowardice. Pantagruel politely instructs Panurge to go clean up and calm himself. Briefly, Panurge acts as if he was never afraid in the first place, and he claims that the feces on his back is not his own, but that it belongs to the ship's cat. Here the fourth book ends rather abruptly.
feat_summary_analysis: Once again, the point of view of the story has changed to an unnamed narrator. In the second book, the narrator introduces himself as a servant to Pantagruel, and at some point eventually gives his name as Alcofribas. It is unclear if Alcofribas remains the narrator throughout books three, four, and five. If he were the servant of Pantagruel, then, presumably, he would focus his perspective on everything in relationship to his master. The third book, however, focuses more on Panurge. In this fourth installment, the focus shifts periodically. Most of the time, the point of view focuses on what Pantagruel does throughout the voyage, but then the point of view shifts to Panurge's exploits, and at times to the actions of Friar John. If Alcofribas is indeed the narrator of both the third and fourth books, then he stands in the role of the bystander who has the ability to watch the nobility at all times. Thus, from his perspective, as a virtually invisible servant, Alcofribas can watch every event that goes on, and then provide the readers with an exposition. In addition, depending on Alcofribas's level of skill as a writer and observer, he might be writing about the exploits of the voyage as a favor to Pantagruel. When Pantagruel writes a letter to his father, he explains that he will keep a journal of their adventures for his father to read at a later time. Although Pantagruel seems like the type of person who would want to write such a journal himself, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that he may have asked his servant, this narrator, to also keep an account of the activities during the voyage. Throughout this fourth installment of the series, Pantagruel and his companions come into contact with a full array of real and mythical creatures. From the very start of the journey, Pantagruel and his followers arrive at the island of Medamothy, where literally everything imaginable and unimaginable is for sale. Wes Williams argues that the creatures found for sale on the island, including the unicorns and the color-changing tarand, are "adynata: impossible objects, derived for the most part from Pliny's Natural History, books 8 and 10, where they figure such creatures as lie beyond credible representation" . Williams posits that Rabelais includes this episode so early in the fourth book as a way to explain to the reader that this journey will explore many unknown elements. In fact, as the journey progresses, the inhabitants of the islands become more and more peculiar. Granted, some islanders are not so different from people living in the known Western world, but other inhabitants, such as the Chitterlings of the Wild Island and the wind eaters of the island of Ruach, appear so extraordinary that one would certainly question their existence. But, as Williams suggests, starting the journey off by visiting the island of Medamothy, a place full of oddities and curiosities, sets the stage for literally anything to occur throughout the fourth book, including a giant flying pig that spurts mustard. Probably one of the most fascinating aspects of this story is the comedic imagery throughout the voyage. Early on, Panurge gets into an argument with a sheep merchant. Both Panurge and the merchant are reprimanded for their argument and are forced to make amends. Panurge offers to buy one of the merchant's sheep to prove he is truly remorseful. The sheep merchant babbles excessively about the value of his sheep. Although he is but a lowly merchant, he has the opportunity to waste Panurge's time, and he makes full use of that opportunity. Finally, though, he does sell Panurge one of the sheep. Panurge takes his purchased sheep and promptly throws it overboard, causing all the other sheep to follow it into the ocean, and all the sheep merchants are pulled into the ocean by their flock, thus drowning all the sheep and the sheep merchants in one fell swoop. Although this is a grotesque and gruesome image, the dark comedy shows through nonetheless. Eyewitnesses describe other comedic images in the story, in a more indirect manner. For instance, the giant, Wide-nostrils, supposedly dies by choking on melted butter. Another example would be the farmer's wife who manages to trick an unknowledgeable devil into believing that the slit of her vaginal opening was caused by the powerful claws of her husband, whom the devil was going to battle in a clawing match. Of all the comedic imagery, the scenes during the battle with the Chitterlings on Wild Island demonstrate the most vivid examples of personification and contextual foreshadowing. The inhabitants of this island, the Chitterlings, are literally described as walking sausages. These food items made from pork have been personified into male and female warriors, but since they are still walking sausages, they can easily be ripped in half and cut to pieces. Fortunately, thanks to the comedy Rabelais infuses into this story, the Chitterlings need not die from being cut in half. The savior is mustard sauce, for everyone knows that even the worst sausage can be improved with a little bit of mustard. As if the culinary humor was not blatant enough, Rabelais adds the image of a gigantic flying pig with crimson red plumage. While this creature that defies all reason flies over the battlefield, it spurts out mustard to save the fallen soldiers. Although the events on this island rank under the category of bizarre, the island's very name provided contextual foreshadowing to warn outsiders that this is a wild space. The term "wild" has many interpretations. Some people may identify wild to mean disorderly. The fact that these personified sausages defy death through the aid of mustard certainly suggests that the normal laws of order and biology no longer apply. As the opening framework of the story indicates that the characters will meet different people and face difficult challenges, the framework of the voyage itself also signifies that the characters will be tested and, as a result of those tests, some characters will change dramatically. Compared to who he was in the second book, Panurge is almost a different character by the end of the fourth book. Of the challenges he faces during this portion of the story, the first challenge is that of the storm. His failure to find his courage during the storm marks the downfall of his character throughout the rest of the story. When the storm hits, Pantagruel ties himself to the mast while Friar John and Epistemon help the crew with the rigging and the sails. Friar John calls out to Panurge, begging that he help them, but Panurge remains frozen in his fear. As he cries like a child, Panurge begs God or anyone listening to bring him safely to dry land. As soon as the storm stops, and after everyone is on dry land, Panurge feigns as if he was never afraid and he pretends that he helped the crew during the storm. Friar John refuses to listen to Panurge's lies, and blatantly calls him a coward. Having failed his first test of the voyage, Panurge continues to falter and spiral downwards. For instance, when it appears that Pantagruel and his companions will have to do battle with the Chitterlings on Wild Island, Panurge offers to go to warn the soldiers on the ships, but he only makes this offer so that he can run away from the battle. Likewise, at the end of the story, while pouting below decks, Panurge hears the sound of cannon fire, which makes him believe that they have once again entered into battle. In this final test of his courage, Panurge soils himself in his own feces and mistakes a cat for a small demon. Truly, Panurge, the once quick-witted, womanizing, master thief and scam artist from the second book has hit rock bottom as he continues to sail on this voyage in his search for answers about cuckoldry after marriage.