Gargantua and Pantagruel
in the air whence they might have any rain, and that the earth did supply
the default of that. Other learned men said that it was a shower of the
antipodes, as Seneca saith in his fourth book Quaestionum naturalium,
speaking of the source and spring of Nilus. But they were deceived, for,
the procession being ended, when everyone went about to gather of this dew,
and to drink of it with full bowls, they found that it was nothing but
pickle and the very brine of salt, more brackish in taste than the saltest
water of the sea. And because in that very day Pantagruel was born, his
father gave him that name; for Panta in Greek is as much to say as all, and
Gruel in the Hagarene language doth signify thirsty, inferring hereby that
at his birth the whole world was a-dry and thirsty, as likewise foreseeing
that he would be some day supreme lord and sovereign of the thirsty
Ethrappels, which was shown to him at that very same hour by a more evident
sign. For when his mother Badebec was in the bringing of him forth, and
that the midwives did wait to receive him, there came first out of her
belly three score and eight tregeneers, that is, salt-sellers, every one of
them leading in a halter a mule heavy laden with salt; after whom issued
forth nine dromedaries, with great loads of gammons of bacon and dried
neat’s tongues on their backs. Then followed seven camels loaded with
links and chitterlings, hogs’ puddings, and sausages. After them came out
five great wains, full of leeks, garlic, onions, and chibots, drawn with
five-and-thirty strong cart-horses, which was six for every one, besides
the thiller. At the sight hereof the said midwives were much amazed, yet
some of them said, Lo, here is good provision, and indeed we need it; for
we drink but lazily, as if our tongues walked on crutches, and not lustily
like Lansman Dutches. Truly this is a good sign; there is nothing here but
what is fit for us; these are the spurs of wine, that set it a-going. As
they were tattling thus together after their own manner of chat, behold!
out comes Pantagruel all hairy like a bear, whereupon one of them, inspired
with a prophetical spirit, said, This will be a terrible fellow; he is born
with all his hair; he is undoubtedly to do wonderful things, and if he live
he shall have age.
Chapter 2.III.
Of the grief wherewith Gargantua was moved at the decease of his wife
Badebec.
When Pantagruel was born, there was none more astonished and perplexed than
was his father Gargantua; for of the one side seeing his wife Badebec dead,
and on the other side his son Pantagruel born, so fair and so great, he
knew not what to say nor what to do. And the doubt that troubled his brain
was to know whether he should cry for the death of his wife or laugh for
the joy of his son. He was hinc inde choked with sophistical arguments,
for he framed them very well in modo et figura, but he could not resolve
them, remaining pestered and entangled by this means, like a mouse caught
in a trap or kite snared in a gin. Shall I weep? said he. Yes, for why?
My so good wife is dead, who was the most this, the most that, that ever
was in the world. Never shall I see her, never shall I recover such
another; it is unto me an inestimable loss! O my good God, what had I done
that thou shouldest thus punish me? Why didst thou not take me away before
her, seeing for me to live without her is but to languish? Ah, Badebec,
Badebec, my minion, my dear heart, my sugar, my sweeting, my honey, my
little c-- (yet it had in circumference full six acres, three rods, five
poles, four yards, two foot, one inch and a half of good woodland measure),
my tender peggy, my codpiece darling, my bob and hit, my slipshoe-lovey,
never shall I see thee! Ah, poor Pantagruel, thou hast lost thy good
mother, thy sweet nurse, thy well-beloved lady! O false death, how
injurious and despiteful hast thou been to me! How malicious and
outrageous have I found thee in taking her from me, my well-beloved wife,
to whom immortality did of right belong!
With these words he did cry like a cow, but on a sudden fell a-laughing
like a calf, when Pantagruel came into his mind. Ha, my little son, said
he, my childilolly, fedlifondy, dandlichucky, my ballocky, my pretty rogue!
O how jolly thou art, and how much am I bound to my gracious God, that hath
been pleased to bestow on me a son so fair, so spriteful, so lively, so
smiling, so pleasant, and so gentle! Ho, ho, ho, ho, how glad I am! Let
us drink, ho, and put away melancholy! Bring of the best, rinse the
glasses, lay the cloth, drive out these dogs, blow this fire, light
candles, shut that door there, cut this bread in sippets for brewis, send
away these poor folks in giving them what they ask, hold my gown. I will
strip myself into my doublet (en cuerpo), to make the gossips merry, and
keep them company.
As he spake this, he heard the litanies and the mementos of the priests
that carried his wife to be buried, upon which he left the good purpose he
was in, and was suddenly ravished another way, saying, Lord God! must I
again contrist myself? This grieves me. I am no longer young, I grow old,
the weather is dangerous; I may perhaps take an ague, then shall I be
foiled, if not quite undone. By the faith of a gentleman, it were better
to cry less, and drink more. My wife is dead, well, by G--! (da jurandi) I
shall not raise her again by my crying: she is well, she is in paradise at
least, if she be no higher: she prayeth to God for us, she is happy, she
is above the sense of our miseries, nor can our calamities reach her. What
though she be dead, must not we also die? The same debt which she hath
paid hangs over our heads; nature will require it of us, and we must all of
us some day taste of the same sauce. Let her pass then, and the Lord
preserve the survivors; for I must now cast about how to get another wife.
But I will tell you what you shall do, said he to the midwives, in France
called wise women (where be they, good folks? I cannot see them): Go you
to my wife’s interment, and I will the while rock my son; for I find myself
somewhat altered and distempered, and should otherwise be in danger of
falling sick; but drink one good draught first, you will be the better for
it. And believe me, upon mine honour, they at his request went to her
burial and funeral obsequies. In the meanwhile, poor Gargantua staying at
home, and willing to have somewhat in remembrance of her to be engraven
upon her tomb, made this epitaph in the manner as followeth.
Dead is the noble Badebec,
Who had a face like a rebeck;
A Spanish body, and a belly
Of Switzerland; she died, I tell ye,
In childbirth. Pray to God, that her
He pardon wherein she did err.
Here lies her body, which did live
Free from all vice, as I believe,
And did decease at my bedside,
The year and day in which she died.
Chapter 2.IV.
Of the infancy of Pantagruel.
I find by the ancient historiographers and poets that divers have been born
in this world after very strange manners, which would be too long to
repeat; read therefore the seventh chapter of Pliny, if you have so much
leisure. Yet have you never heard of any so wonderful as that of
Pantagruel; for it is a very difficult matter to believe, how in the little
time he was in his mother’s belly he grew both in body and strength. That
which Hercules did was nothing, when in his cradle he slew two serpents,
for those serpents were but little and weak, but Pantagruel, being yet in
the cradle, did far more admirable things, and more to be amazed at. I
pass by here the relation of how at every one of his meals he supped up the
milk of four thousand and six hundred cows, and how, to make him a skillet
to boil his milk in, there were set a-work all the braziers of Somure in
Anjou, of Villedieu in Normandy, and of Bramont in Lorraine. And they
served in this whitepot-meat to him in a huge great bell, which is yet to
be seen in the city of Bourges in Berry, near the palace, but his teeth
were already so well grown, and so strengthened with vigour, that of the
said bell he bit off a great morsel, as very plainly doth appear till this
hour.
One day in the morning, when they would have made him suck one of his cows
--for he never had any other nurse, as the history tells us--he got one of
his arms loose from the swaddling bands wherewith he was kept fast in the
cradle, laid hold on the said cow under the left foreham, and grasping her
to him ate up her udder and half of her paunch, with the liver and the
kidneys, and had devoured all up if she had not cried out most horribly, as
if the wolves had held her by the legs, at which noise company came in and
took away the said cow from Pantagruel. Yet could they not so well do it
but that the quarter whereby he caught her was left in his hand, of which
quarter he gulped up the flesh in a trice, even with as much ease as you
would eat a sausage, and that so greedily with desire of more, that, when
they would have taken away the bone from him, he swallowed it down whole,
as a cormorant would do a little fish; and afterwards began fumblingly to
say, Good, good, good--for he could not yet speak plain--giving them to
understand thereby that he had found it very good, and that he did lack but
so much more. Which when they saw that attended him, they bound him with
great cable-ropes, like those that are made at Tain for the carriage of
salt to Lyons, or such as those are whereby the great French ship rides at
anchor in the road of Newhaven in Normandy. But, on a certain time, a
great bear, which his father had bred, got loose, came towards him, began
to lick his face, for his nurses had not thoroughly wiped his chaps, at
which unexpected approach being on a sudden offended, he as lightly rid
himself of those great cables as Samson did of the hawser ropes wherewith
the Philistines had tied him, and, by your leave, takes me up my lord the
bear, and tears him to you in pieces like a pullet, which served him for a
gorgeful or good warm bit for that meal.
Whereupon Gargantua, fearing lest the child should hurt himself, caused
four great chains of iron to be made to bind him, and so many strong wooden
arches unto his cradle, most firmly stocked and morticed in huge frames.
Of those chains you have one at Rochelle, which they draw up at night
betwixt the two great towers of the haven. Another is at Lyons,--a third
at Angiers,--and the fourth was carried away by the devils to bind Lucifer,
who broke his chains in those days by reason of a colic that did
extraordinarily torment him, taken with eating a sergeant’s soul fried for
his breakfast. And therefore you may believe that which Nicholas de Lyra
saith upon that place of the Psalter where it is written, Et Og Regem
Basan, that the said Og, being yet little, was so strong and robustious,
that they were fain to bind him with chains of iron in his cradle. Thus
continued Pantagruel for a while very calm and quiet, for he was not able
so easily to break those chains, especially having no room in the cradle to
give a swing with his arms. But see what happened once upon a great
holiday that his father Gargantua made a sumptuous banquet to all the
princes of his court. I am apt to believe that the menial officers of the
house were so embusied in waiting each on his proper service at the feast,
that nobody took care of poor Pantagruel, who was left a reculorum,
behindhand, all alone, and as forsaken. What did he? Hark what he did,
good people. He strove and essayed to break the chains of the cradle with
his arms, but could not, for they were too strong for him. Then did he
keep with his feet such a stamping stir, and so long, that at last he beat