Gargantua and Pantagruel
Chapter 5.XXIV.--How there was a ball in the manner of a tournament, at
which Queen Whims was present
Chapter 5.XXV.--How the thirty-two persons at the ball fought
Chapter 5.XXVI.--How we came to the island of Odes, where the ways go up
and down
Chapter 5.XXVII.--How we came to the island of Sandals; and of the order of
Semiquaver Friars
Chapter 5.XXVIII.--How Panurge asked a Semiquaver Friar many questions, and
was only answered in monosyllables
Chapter 5.XXIX.--How Epistemon disliked the institution of Lent
Chapter 5.XXX.--How we came to the land of Satin
Chapter 5.XXXI.--How in the land of Satin we saw Hearsay, who kept a school
of vouching
Chapter 5.XXXII.--How we came in sight of Lantern-land
Chapter 5.XXXIII.--How we landed at the port of the Lychnobii, and came to
Lantern-land
Chapter 5.XXXIV.--How we arrived at the Oracle of the Bottle
Chapter 5.XXXV.--How we went underground to come to the Temple of the Holy
Bottle, and how Chinon is the oldest city in the world
Chapter 5.XXXVI.--How we went down the tetradic steps, and of Panurge’s
fear
Chapter 5.XXXVII.--How the temple gates in a wonderful manner opened of
themselves
Chapter 5.XXXVIII.--Of the temple’s admirable pavement
Chapter 5.XXXIX.--How we saw Bacchus’s army drawn up in battalia in mosaic
work
Chapter 5.XL.--How the battle in which the good Bacchus overthrew the
Indians was represented in mosaic work
Chapter 5.XLI.--How the temple was illuminated with a wonderful lamp
Chapter 5.XLII.--How the Priestess Bacbuc showed us a fantastic fountain in
the temple, and how the fountain-water had the taste of wine, according to
the imagination of those who drank of it
Chapter 5.XLIII.--How the Priestess Bacbuc equipped Panurge in order to
have the word of the Bottle
Chapter 5.XLIV.--How Bacbuc, the high-priestess, brought Panurge before the
Holy Bottle
Chapter 5.XLV.--How Bacbuc explained the word of the Goddess-Bottle
Chapter 5.XLVI.--How Panurge and the rest rhymed with poetic fury
Chapter 5.XLVII.--How we took our leave of Bacbuc, and left the Oracle of
the Holy Bottle
Introduction.
Had Rabelais never written his strange and marvellous romance, no one would
ever have imagined the possibility of its production. It stands outside
other things--a mixture of mad mirth and gravity, of folly and reason, of
childishness and grandeur, of the commonplace and the out-of-the-way, of
popular verve and polished humanism, of mother-wit and learning, of
baseness and nobility, of personalities and broad generalization, of the
comic and the serious, of the impossible and the familiar. Throughout the
whole there is such a force of life and thought, such a power of good
sense, a kind of assurance so authoritative, that he takes rank with the
greatest; and his peers are not many. You may like him or not, may attack
him or sing his praises, but you cannot ignore him. He is of those that
die hard. Be as fastidious as you will; make up your mind to recognize
only those who are, without any manner of doubt, beyond and above all
others; however few the names you keep, Rabelais’ will always remain.
We may know his work, may know it well, and admire it more every time we
read it. After being amused by it, after having enjoyed it, we may return
again to study it and to enter more fully into its meaning. Yet there is
no possibility of knowing his own life in the same fashion. In spite of
all the efforts, often successful, that have been made to throw light on
it, to bring forward a fresh document, or some obscure mention in a
forgotten book, to add some little fact, to fix a date more precisely, it
remains nevertheless full of uncertainty and of gaps. Besides, it has been
burdened and sullied by all kinds of wearisome stories and foolish
anecdotes, so that really there is more to weed out than to add.
This injustice, at first wilful, had its rise in the sixteenth century, in
the furious attacks of a monk of Fontevrault, Gabriel de Puy-Herbault, who
seems to have drawn his conclusions concerning the author from the book,
and, more especially, in the regrettable satirical epitaph of Ronsard,
piqued, it is said, that the Guises had given him only a little pavillon in
the Forest of Meudon, whereas the presbytery was close to the chateau.
From that time legend has fastened on Rabelais, has completely travestied
him, till, bit by bit, it has made of him a buffoon, a veritable clown, a
vagrant, a glutton, and a drunkard.
The likeness of his person has undergone a similar metamorphosis. He has
been credited with a full moon of a face, the rubicund nose of an
incorrigible toper, and thick coarse lips always apart because always
laughing. The picture would have surprised his friends no less than
himself. There have been portraits painted of Rabelais; I have seen many
such. They are all of the seventeenth century, and the greater number are
conceived in this jovial and popular style.
As a matter of fact there is only one portrait of him that counts, that has
more than the merest chance of being authentic, the one in the Chronologie
collee or coupee. Under this double name is known and cited a large sheet
divided by lines and cross lines into little squares, containing about a
hundred heads of illustrious Frenchmen. This sheet was stuck on pasteboard
for hanging on the wall, and was cut in little pieces, so that the
portraits might be sold separately. The majority of the portraits are of
known persons and can therefore be verified. Now it can be seen that these
have been selected with care, and taken from the most authentic sources;
from statues, busts, medals, even stained glass, for the persons of most
distinction, from earlier engravings for the others. Moreover, those of
which no other copies exist, and which are therefore the most valuable,
have each an individuality very distinct, in the features, the hair, the
beard, as well as in the costume. Not one of them is like another. There
has been no tampering with them, no forgery. On the contrary, there is in
each a difference, a very marked personality. Leonard Gaultier, who
published this engraving towards the end of the sixteenth century,
reproduced a great many portraits besides from chalk drawings, in the style
of his master, Thomas de Leu. It must have been such drawings that were
the originals of those portraits which he alone has issued, and which may
therefore be as authentic and reliable as the others whose correctness we
are in a position to verify.
Now Rabelais has here nothing of the Roger Bontemps of low degree about
him. His features are strong, vigorously cut, and furrowed with deep
wrinkles; his beard is short and scanty; his cheeks are thin and already
worn-looking. On his head he wears the square cap of the doctors and the
clerks, and his dominant expression, somewhat rigid and severe, is that of
a physician and a scholar. And this is the only portrait to which we need
attach any importance.
This is not the place for a detailed biography, nor for an exhaustive
study. At most this introduction will serve as a framework on which to fix
a few certain dates, to hang some general observations. The date of
Rabelais’ birth is very doubtful. For long it was placed as far back as
1483: now scholars are disposed to put it forward to about 1495. The
reason, a good one, is that all those whom he has mentioned as his friends,
or in any real sense his contemporaries, were born at the very end of the
fifteenth century. And, indeed, it is in the references in his romance to
names, persons, and places, that the most certain and valuable evidence is
to be found of his intercourse, his patrons, his friendships, his
sojournings, and his travels: his own work is the best and richest mine in
which to search for the details of his life.
Like Descartes and Balzac, he was a native of Touraine, and Tours and
Chinon have only done their duty in each of them erecting in recent years a
statue to his honour, a twofold homage reflecting credit both on the
province and on the town. But the precise facts about his birth are
nevertheless vague. Huet speaks of the village of Benais, near Bourgeuil,
of whose vineyards Rabelais makes mention. As the little vineyard of La
Deviniere, near Chinon, and familiar to all his readers, is supposed to
have belonged to his father, Thomas Rabelais, some would have him born
there. It is better to hold to the earlier general opinion that Chinon was
his native town; Chinon, whose praises he sang with such heartiness and
affection. There he might well have been born in the Lamproie house, which
belonged to his father, who, to judge from this circumstance, must have
been in easy circumstances, with the position of a well-to-do citizen. As
La Lamproie in the seventeenth century was a hostelry, the father of
Rabelais has been set down as an innkeeper. More probably he was an
apothecary, which would fit in with the medical profession adopted by his
son in after years. Rabelais had brothers, all older than himself.
Perhaps because he was the youngest, his father destined him for the
Church.
The time he spent while a child with the Benedictine monks at Seuille is
uncertain. There he might have made the acquaintance of the prototype of
his Friar John, a brother of the name of Buinart, afterwards Prior of
Sermaize. He was longer at the Abbey of the Cordeliers at La Baumette,
half a mile from Angers, where he became a novice. As the brothers Du
Bellay, who were later his Maecenases, were then studying at the University
of Angers, where it is certain he was not a student, it is doubtless from
this youthful period that his acquaintance and alliance with them should
date. Voluntarily, or induced by his family, Rabelais now embraced the
ecclesiastical profession, and entered the monastery of the Franciscan
Cordeliers at Fontenay-le-Comte, in Lower Poitou, which was honoured by his
long sojourn at the vital period of his life when his powers were ripening.
There it was he began to study and to think, and there also began his
troubles.
In spite of the wide-spread ignorance among the monks of that age, the
encyclopaedic movement of the Renaissance was attracting all the lofty
minds. Rabelais threw himself into it with enthusiasm, and Latin antiquity
was not enough for him. Greek, a study discountenanced by the Church,
which looked on it as dangerous and tending to freethought and heresy, took
possession of him. To it he owed the warm friendship of Pierre Amy and of
the celebrated Guillaume Bude. In fact, the Greek letters of the latter
are the best source of information concerning this period of Rabelais’
life. It was at Fontenay-le-Comte also that he became acquainted with the
Brissons and the great jurist Andre Tiraqueau, whom he never mentions but
with admiration and deep affection. Tiraqueau’s treatise, De legibus
connubialibus, published for the first time in 1513, has an important
bearing on the life of Rabelais. There we learn that, dissatisfied with
the incomplete translation of Herodotus by Laurent Valla, Rabelais had
retranslated into Latin the first book of the History. That translation
unfortunately is lost, as so many other of his scattered works. It is
probably in this direction that the hazard of fortune has most discoveries
and surprises in store for the lucky searcher. Moreover, as in this law
treatise Tiraqueau attacked women in a merciless fashion, President Amaury
Bouchard published in 1522 a book in their defence, and Rabelais, who was a
friend of both the antagonists, took the side of Tiraqueau. It should be
observed also in passing, that there are several pages of such audacious
plain-speaking, that Rabelais, though he did not copy these in his Marriage