Gargantua and Pantagruel
came to the land the louder we heard that jangling.
Some of us doubted that it was the Dodonian kettle, or the portico called
Heptaphone in Olympia, or the eternal humming of the colossus raised on
Memnon’s tomb in Thebes of Egypt, or the horrid din that used formerly to
be heard about a tomb at Lipara, one of the Aeolian islands. But this did
not square with chorography.
I do not know, said Pantagruel, but that some swarms of bees hereabouts may
be taking a ramble in the air, and so the neighbourhood make this
dingle-dangle with pans, kettles, and basins, the corybantine cymbals of
Cybele, grandmother of the gods, to call them back. Let’s hearken. When we
were nearer, among the everlasting ringing of these indefatigable bells we
heard the singing, as we thought, of some men. For this reason, before we
offered to land on the Ringing Island, Pantagruel was of opinion that we
should go in the pinnace to a small rock, near which we discovered an
hermitage and a little garden. There we found a diminutive old hermit,
whose name was Braguibus, born at Glenay. He gave us a full account of all
the jangling, and regaled us after a strange sort of fashion--four livelong
days did he make us fast, assuring us that we should not be admitted into
the Ringing Island otherwise, because it was then one of the four fasting,
or ember weeks. As I love my belly, quoth Panurge, I by no means understand
this riddle. Methinks this should rather be one of the four windy weeks;
for while we fast we are only puffed up with wind. Pray now, good father
hermit, have not you here some other pastime besides fasting? Methinks it is
somewhat of the leanest; we might well enough be without so many palace
holidays and those fasting times of yours. In my Donatus, quoth Friar John,
I could find yet but three times or tenses, the preterit, the present, and
the future; doubtless here the fourth ought to be a work of supererogation.
That time or tense, said Epistemon, is aorist, derived from the
preter-imperfect tense of the Greeks, admitted in war (?) and odd cases.
Patience perforce is a remedy for a mad dog. Saith the hermit: It is, as I
told you, fatal to go against this; whosoever does it is a rank heretic, and
wants nothing but fire and faggot, that’s certain. To deal plainly with
you, my dear pater, cried Panurge, being at sea, I much more fear being wet
than being warm, and being drowned than being burned.
Well, however, let us fast, a God’s name; yet I have fasted so long that it
has quite undermined my flesh, and I fear that at last the bastions of this
bodily fort of mine will fall to ruin. Besides, I am much more afraid of
vexing you in this same trade of fasting; for the devil a bit I understand
anything in it, and it becomes me very scurvily, as several people have
told me, and I am apt to believe them. For my part, I have no great
stomach to fasting; for alas! it is as easy as pissing a bed, and a trade
of which anybody may set up; there needs no tools. I am much more inclined
not to fast for the future; for to do so there is some stock required, and
some tools are set a-work. No matter, since you are so steadfast, and
would have us fast, let us fast as fast as we can, and then breakfast in
the name of famine. Now we are come to these esurial idle days. I vow I
had quite put them out of my head long ago. If we must fast, said
Pantagruel, I see no other remedy but to get rid of it as soon as we can,
as we would out of a bad way. I’ll in that space of time somewhat look
over my papers, and examine whether the marine study be as good as ours at
land. For Plato, to describe a silly, raw, ignorant fellow, compares him
to those that are bred on shipboard, as we would do one bred up in a
barrel, who never saw anything but through the bung-hole.
To tell you the short and the long of the matter, our fasting was most
hideous and terrible; for the first day we fasted on fisticuffs, the second
at cudgels, the third at sharps, and the fourth at blood and wounds: such
was the order of the fairies.
Chapter 5.II.
How the Ringing Island had been inhabited by the Siticines, who were become
birds.
Having fasted as aforesaid, the hermit gave us a letter for one whom he
called Albian Camar, Master Aedituus of the Ringing Island; but Panurge
greeting him called him Master Antitus. He was a little queer old fellow,
bald-pated, with a snout whereat you might easily have lighted a
card-match, and a phiz as red as a cardinal’s cap. He made us all very
welcome, upon the hermit’s recommendation, hearing that we had fasted, as I
have told you.
When we had well stuffed our puddings, he gave us an account of what was
remarkable in the island, affirming that it had been at first inhabited by
the Siticines; but that, according to the course of nature--as all things,
you know, are subject to change--they were become birds.
There I had a full account of all that Atteius Capito, Paulus, Marcellus,
A. Gellius, Athenaeus, Suidas, Ammonius, and others had writ of the
Siticines and Sicinnists; and then we thought we might as easily believe
the transmutations of Nectymene, Progne, Itys, Alcyone, Antigone, Tereus,
and other birds. Nor did we think it more reasonable to doubt of the
transmogrification of the Macrobian children into swans, or that of the men
of Pallene in Thrace into birds, as soon as they had bathed themselves in
the Tritonic lake. After this the devil a word could we get out of him but
of birds and cages.
The cages were spacious, costly, magnificent, and of an admirable
architecture. The birds were large, fine, and neat accordingly, looking as
like the men in my country as one pea does like another; for they ate and
drank like men, muted like men, endued or digested like men, farted like
men, but stunk like devils; slept, billed, and trod their females like men,
but somewhat oftener: in short, had you seen and examined them from top to
toe, you would have laid your head to a turnip that they had been mere men.
However, they were nothing less, as Master Aedituus told us; assuring us,
at the same time, that they were neither secular nor laic; and the truth
is, the diversity of their feathers and plumes did not a little puzzle us.
Some of them were all over as white as swans, others as black as crows,
many as grey as owls, others black and white like magpies, some all red
like red-birds, and others purple and white like some pigeons. He called
the males clerg-hawks, monk-hawks, priest-hawks, abbot-hawks, bish-hawks,
cardin-hawks, and one pope-hawk, who is a species by himself. He called
the females clerg-kites, nun-kites, priest-kites, abbess-kites, bish-kites,
cardin-kites, and pope-kites.
However, said he, as hornets and drones will get among the bees, and there
do nothing but buzz, eat, and spoil everything; so, for these last three
hundred years, a vast swarm of bigottelloes flocked, I do not know how,
among these goodly birds every fifth full moon, and have bemuted, berayed,
and conskited the whole island. They are so hard-favoured and monstrous
that none can abide them. For their wry necks make a figure like a crooked
billet; their paws are hairy, like those of rough-footed pigeons; their
claws and pounces, belly and breech, like those of the Stymphalid harpies.
Nor is it possible to root them out, for if you get rid of one, straight
four-and-twenty new ones fly thither.
There had been need of another monster-hunter such as was Hercules; for
Friar John had like to have run distracted about it, so much he was nettled
and puzzled in the matter. As for the good Pantagruel, he was even served
as was Messer Priapus, contemplating the sacrifices of Ceres, for want of
skin.
Chapter 5.III.
How there is but one pope-hawk in the Ringing Island.
We then asked Master Aedituus why there was but one pope-hawk among such
venerable birds multiplied in all their species. He answered that such was
the first institution and fatal destiny of the stars that the clerg-hawks
begot the priest-hawks and monk-hawks without carnal copulation, as some
bees are born of a young bull; the priest-hawks begat the bish-hawks, the
bish-hawks the stately cardin-hawks, and the stately cardin-hawks, if they
live long enough, at last come to be pope-hawk.
Of this last kind there never is more than one at a time, as in a beehive
there is but one king, and in the world is but one sun.
When the pope-hawk dies, another arises in his stead out of the whole brood
of cardin-hawks, that is, as you must understand it all along, without
carnal copulation. So that there is in that species an individual unity,
with a perpetuity of succession, neither more or less than in the Arabian
phoenix.
‘Tis true that, about two thousand seven hundred and sixty moons ago, two
pope-hawks were seen upon the face of the earth; but then you never saw in
your lives such a woeful rout and hurly-burly as was all over this island.
For all these same birds did so peck, clapperclaw, and maul one another all
that time, that there was the devil and all to do, and the island was in a
fair way of being left without inhabitants. Some stood up for this
pope-hawk, some for t’other. Some, struck with a dumbness, were as mute as
so many fishes; the devil a note was to be got out of them; part of the
merry bells here were as silent as if they had lost their tongues, I mean
their clappers.
During these troublesome times they called to their assistance the
emperors, kings, dukes, earls, barons, and commonwealths of the world that
live on t’other side the water; nor was this schism and sedition at an end
till one of them died, and the plurality was reduced to a unity.
We then asked what moved those birds to be thus continually chanting and
singing. He answered that it was the bells that hung on the top of their
cages. Then he said to us, Will you have me make these monk-hawks whom you
see bardocuculated with a bag such as you use to still brandy, sing like
any woodlarks? Pray do, said we. He then gave half-a-dozen pulls to a
little rope, which caused a diminutive bell to give so many ting-tangs; and
presently a parcel of monk-hawks ran to him as if the devil had drove ‘em,
and fell a-singing like mad.
Pray, master, cried Panurge, if I also rang this bell could I make those
other birds yonder, with red-herring-coloured feathers, sing? Ay, marry
would you, returned Aedituus. With this Panurge hanged himself (by the
hands, I mean) at the bell-rope’s end, and no sooner made it speak but
those smoked birds hied them thither and began to lift up their voices and
make a sort of untowardly hoarse noise, which I grudge to call singing.
Aedituus indeed told us that they fed on nothing but fish, like the herns
and cormorants of the world, and that they were a fifth kind of cucullati
newly stamped.
He added that he had been told by Robert Valbringue, who lately passed that
way in his return from Africa, that a sixth kind was to fly hither out of
hand, which he called capus-hawks, more grum, vinegar-faced, brain-sick,
froward, and loathsome than any kind whatsoever in the whole island.
Africa, said Pantagruel, still uses to produce some new and monstrous
thing.
Chapter 5.IV.
How the birds of the Ringing Island were all passengers.
Since you have told us, said Pantagruel, how the pope-hawk is begot by the
cardin-hawks, the cardin-hawks by the bish-hawks, and the bish-hawks by the
priest-hawks, and the priest-hawks by the clerg-hawks, I would gladly know
whence you have these same clerg-hawks. They are all of them passengers,
or travelling birds, returned Aedituus, and come hither from t’other world;
part out of a vast country called Want-o’-bread, the rest out of another
toward the west, which they style Too-many-of-’em. From these two