Gargantua and Pantagruel
and hearing that there were the greatest and fairest in the country, for
they were as great as plum-trees or as walnut-trees, he would go thither
himself, and brought thence in his hand what he thought good, and withal
carried away the six pilgrims, who were in so great fear that they did not
dare to speak nor cough.
Washing them, therefore, first at the fountain, the pilgrims said one to
another softly, What shall we do? We are almost drowned here amongst these
lettuce, shall we speak? But if we speak, he will kill us for spies. And,
as they were thus deliberating what to do, Gargantua put them with the
lettuce into a platter of the house, as large as the huge tun of the White
Friars of the Cistercian order; which done, with oil, vinegar, and salt, he
ate them up, to refresh himself a little before supper, and had already
swallowed up five of the pilgrims, the sixth being in the platter, totally
hid under a lettuce, except his bourdon or staff that appeared, and nothing
else. Which Grangousier seeing, said to Gargantua, I think that is the
horn of a shell-snail, do not eat it. Why not? said Gargantua, they are
good all this month: which he no sooner said, but, drawing up the staff,
and therewith taking up the pilgrim, he ate him very well, then drank a
terrible draught of excellent white wine. The pilgrims, thus devoured,
made shift to save themselves as well as they could, by withdrawing their
bodies out of the reach of the grinders of his teeth, but could not escape
from thinking they had been put in the lowest dungeon of a prison. And
when Gargantua whiffed the great draught, they thought to have been drowned
in his mouth, and the flood of wine had almost carried them away into the
gulf of his stomach. Nevertheless, skipping with their bourdons, as St.
Michael’s palmers use to do, they sheltered themselves from the danger of
that inundation under the banks of his teeth. But one of them by chance,
groping or sounding the country with his staff, to try whether they were in
safety or no, struck hard against the cleft of a hollow tooth, and hit the
mandibulary sinew or nerve of the jaw, which put Gargantua to very great
pain, so that he began to cry for the rage that he felt. To ease himself
therefore of his smarting ache, he called for his toothpicker, and rubbing
towards a young walnut-tree, where they lay skulking, unnestled you my
gentlemen pilgrims.
For he caught one by the legs, another by the scrip, another by the pocket,
another by the scarf, another by the band of the breeches, and the poor
fellow that had hurt him with the bourdon, him he hooked to him by the
codpiece, which snatch nevertheless did him a great deal of good, for it
pierced unto him a pocky botch he had in the groin, which grievously
tormented him ever since they were past Ancenis. The pilgrims, thus
dislodged, ran away athwart the plain a pretty fast pace, and the pain
ceased, even just at the time when by Eudemon he was called to supper, for
all was ready. I will go then, said he, and piss away my misfortune; which
he did do in such a copious measure, that the urine taking away the feet
from the pilgrims, they were carried along with the stream unto the bank of
a tuft of trees. Upon which, as soon as they had taken footing, and that
for their self-preservation they had run a little out of the road, they on
a sudden fell all six, except Fourniller, into a trap that had been made to
take wolves by a train, out of which, nevertheless, they escaped by the
industry of the said Fourniller, who broke all the snares and ropes. Being
gone from thence, they lay all the rest of that night in a lodge near unto
Coudray, where they were comforted in their miseries by the gracious words
of one of their company, called Sweer-to-go, who showed them that this
adventure had been foretold by the prophet David, Psalm. Quum exsurgerent
homines in nos, forte vivos deglutissent nos; when we were eaten in the
salad, with salt, oil, and vinegar. Quum irasceretur furor eorum in nos,
forsitan aqua absorbuisset nos; when he drank the great draught. Torrentem
pertransivit anima nostra; when the stream of his water carried us to the
thicket. Forsitan pertransisset anima nostra aquam intolerabilem; that is,
the water of his urine, the flood whereof, cutting our way, took our feet
from us. Benedictus Dominus qui non dedit nos in captionem dentibus eorum.
Anima nostra sicut passer erepta est de laqueo venantium; when we fell in
the trap. Laqueus contritus est, by Fourniller, et nos liberati sumus.
Adjutorium nostrum, &c.
Chapter 1.XXXIX.
How the Monk was feasted by Gargantua, and of the jovial discourse they had
at supper.
When Gargantua was set down at table, after all of them had somewhat stayed
their stomachs by a snatch or two of the first bits eaten heartily,
Grangousier began to relate the source and cause of the war raised between
him and Picrochole; and came to tell how Friar John of the Funnels had
triumphed at the defence of the close of the abbey, and extolled him for
his valour above Camillus, Scipio, Pompey, Caesar, and Themistocles. Then
Gargantua desired that he might be presently sent for, to the end that with
him they might consult of what was to be done. Whereupon, by a joint
consent, his steward went for him, and brought him along merrily, with his
staff of the cross, upon Grangousier’s mule. When he was come, a thousand
huggings, a thousand embracements, a thousand good days were given. Ha,
Friar John, my friend Friar John, my brave cousin Friar John from the
devil! Let me clip thee, my heart, about the neck; to me an armful. I
must grip thee, my ballock, till thy back crack with it. Come, my cod, let
me coll thee till I kill thee. And Friar John, the gladdest man in the
world, never was man made welcomer, never was any more courteously and
graciously received than Friar John. Come, come, said Gargantua, a stool
here close by me at this end. I am content, said the monk, seeing you will
have it so. Some water, page; fill, my boy, fill; it is to refresh my
liver. Give me some, child, to gargle my throat withal. Deposita cappa,
said Gymnast, let us pull off this frock. Ho, by G--, gentlemen, said the
monk, there is a chapter in Statutis Ordinis which opposeth my laying of it
down. Pish! said Gymnast, a fig for your chapter! This frock breaks both
your shoulders, put it off. My friend, said the monk, let me alone with
it; for, by G--, I’ll drink the better that it is on. It makes all my body
jocund. If I should lay it aside, the waggish pages would cut to
themselves garters out of it, as I was once served at Coulaines. And,
which is worse, I shall lose my appetite. But if in this habit I sit down
at table, I will drink, by G--, both to thee and to thy horse, and so
courage, frolic, God save the company! I have already supped, yet will I
eat never a whit the less for that; for I have a paved stomach, as hollow
as a butt of malvoisie or St. Benedictus’ boot (butt), and always open like
a lawyer’s pouch. Of all fishes but the tench take the wing of a partridge
or the thigh of a nun. Doth not he die like a good fellow that dies with a
stiff catso? Our prior loves exceedingly the white of a capon. In that,
said Gymnast, he doth not resemble the foxes; for of the capons, hens, and
pullets which they carry away they never eat the white. Why? said the
monk. Because, said Gymnast, they have no cooks to dress them; and, if
they be not competently made ready, they remain red and not white; the
redness of meats being a token that they have not got enough of the fire,
whether by boiling, roasting, or otherwise, except the shrimps, lobsters,
crabs, and crayfishes, which are cardinalized with boiling. By God’s
feast-gazers, said the monk, the porter of our abbey then hath not his head
well boiled, for his eyes are as red as a mazer made of an alder-tree. The
thigh of this leveret is good for those that have the gout. To the purpose
of the truel,--what is the reason that the thighs of a gentlewoman are
always fresh and cool? This problem, said Gargantua, is neither in
Aristotle, in Alexander Aphrodiseus, nor in Plutarch. There are three
causes, said the monk, by which that place is naturally refreshed. Primo,
because the water runs all along by it. Secundo, because it is a shady
place, obscure and dark, upon which the sun never shines. And thirdly,
because it is continually flabbelled, blown upon, and aired by the north
winds of the hole arstick, the fan of the smock, and flipflap of the
codpiece. And lusty, my lads. Some bousing liquor, page! So! crack,
crack, crack. O how good is God, that gives us of this excellent juice! I
call him to witness, if I had been in the time of Jesus Christ, I would
have kept him from being taken by the Jews in the garden of Olivet. And
the devil fail me, if I should have failed to cut off the hams of these
gentlemen apostles who ran away so basely after they had well supped, and
left their good master in the lurch. I hate that man worse than poison
that offers to run away when he should fight and lay stoutly about him. Oh
that I were but King of France for fourscore or a hundred years! By G--, I
should whip like curtail-dogs these runaways of Pavia. A plague take them;
why did they not choose rather to die there than to leave their good prince
in that pinch and necessity? Is it not better and more honourable to
perish in fighting valiantly than to live in disgrace by a cowardly running
away? We are like to eat no great store of goslings this year; therefore,
friend, reach me some of that roasted pig there.
Diavolo, is there no more must? No more sweet wine? Germinavit radix
Jesse. Je renie ma vie, je meurs de soif; I renounce my life, I rage for
thirst. This wine is none of the worst. What wine drink you at Paris? I
give myself to the devil, if I did not once keep open house at Paris for
all comers six months together. Do you know Friar Claude of the high
kilderkins? Oh the good fellow that he is! But I do not know what fly
hath stung him of late, he is become so hard a student. For my part, I
study not at all. In our abbey we never study for fear of the mumps, which
disease in horses is called the mourning in the chine. Our late abbot was
wont to say that it is a monstrous thing to see a learned monk. By G--,
master, my friend, Magis magnos clericos non sunt magis magnos sapientes.
You never saw so many hares as there are this year. I could not anywhere
come by a goshawk nor tassel of falcon. My Lord Belloniere promised me a
lanner, but he wrote to me not long ago that he was become pursy. The
partridges will so multiply henceforth, that they will go near to eat up
our ears. I take no delight in the stalking-horse, for I catch such cold
that I am like to founder myself at that sport. If I do not run, toil,
travel, and trot about, I am not well at ease. True it is that in leaping
over the hedges and bushes my frock leaves always some of its wool behind
it. I have recovered a dainty greyhound; I give him to the devil, if he
suffer a hare to escape him. A groom was leading him to my Lord
Huntlittle, and I robbed him of him. Did I ill? No, Friar John, said
Gymnast, no, by all the devils that are, no! So, said the monk, do I
attest these same devils so long as they last, or rather, virtue (of) G--,
what could that gouty limpard have done with so fine a dog? By the body of
G--, he is better pleased when one presents him with a good yoke of oxen.
How now, said Ponocrates, you swear, Friar John. It is only, said the
monk, but to grace and adorn my speech. They are colours of a Ciceronian
rhetoric.
Chapter 1.XL.
Why monks are the outcasts of the world; and wherefore some have bigger
noses than others.