No More Learning

Ha, ha! thou art a merry fellow, said he.
We have with the help of God conquered all the land of the Dipsodes; I will
give thee the Chastelleine, or Lairdship of Salmigondin. Gramercy, my
lord, said I, you gratify me beyond all that I have deserved of you.



Chapter 2. XXXIII.

How Pantagruel became sick, and the manner how he was recovered.

A while after this the good Pantagruel fell sick, and had such an
obstruction in his stomach that he could neither eat nor drink; and,
because mischief seldom comes alone, a hot piss seized on him, which
tormented him more than you would believe. His physicians nevertheless
helped him very well, and with store of lenitives and diuretic drugs made
him piss away his pain. His urine was so hot that since that time it is
not yet cold, and you have of it in divers places of France, according to
the course that it took, and they are called the hot baths, as--

At Coderets.
At Limous.
At Dast.
At Ballervie (Balleruc).
At Neric.
At Bourbonansie, and elsewhere in Italy.
At Mongros.
At Appone.
At Sancto Petro de Padua.
At St. Helen.
At Casa Nuova.
At St. Bartholomew, in the county of Boulogne.
At the Porrette, and a thousand other places.

And I wonder much at a rabble of foolish philosophers and physicians, who
spend their time in disputing whence the heat of the said waters cometh,
whether it be by reason of borax, or sulphur, or alum, or saltpetre, that
is within the mine. For they do nothing but dote, and better were it for
them to rub their arse against a thistle than to waste away their time thus
in disputing of that whereof they know not the original; for the resolution
is easy, neither need we to inquire any further than that the said baths
came by a hot piss of the good Pantagruel.

Now to tell you after what manner he was cured of his principal disease. I
let pass how for a minorative or gentle potion he took four hundred pound
weight of colophoniac scammony, six score and eighteen cartloads of cassia,
an eleven thousand and nine hundred pound weight of rhubarb, besides other
confuse jumblings of sundry drugs. You must understand that by the advice
of the physicians it was ordained that what did offend his stomach should
be taken away; and therefore they made seventeen great balls of copper,
each whereof was bigger than that which is to be seen on the top of St.
Peter's needle at Rome, and in such sort that they did open in the midst
and shut with a spring. Into one of them entered one of his men carrying a
lantern and a torch lighted, and so Pantagruel swallowed him down like a
little pill. Into seven others went seven country-fellows, having every
one of them a shovel on his neck. Into nine others entered nine
wood-carriers, having each of them a basket hung at his neck, and so were
they swallowed down like pills. When they were in his stomach, every one
undid his spring, and came out of their cabins. The first whereof was he
that carried the lantern, and so they fell more than half a league into a
most horrible gulf, more stinking and infectious than ever was Mephitis, or
the marshes of the Camerina, or the abominably unsavoury lake of Sorbona,
whereof Strabo maketh mention. And had it not been that they had very well
antidoted their stomach, heart, and wine-pot, which is called the noddle,
they had been altogether suffocated and choked with these detestable
vapours. O what a perfume! O what an evaporation wherewith to bewray the
masks or mufflers of young mangy queans. After that, with groping and
smelling they came near to the faecal matter and the corrupted humours.
Finally, they found a montjoy or heap of ordure and filth. Then fell the
pioneers to work to dig it up, and the rest with their shovels filled the
baskets; and when all was cleansed every one retired himself into his ball.

This done, Pantagruel enforcing himself to vomit, very easily brought them
out, and they made no more show in his mouth than a fart in yours. But,
when they came merrily out of their pills, I thought upon the Grecians
coming out of the Trojan horse. By this means was he healed and brought
unto his former state and convalescence; and of these brazen pills, or
rather copper balls, you have one at Orleans, upon the steeple of the Holy
Cross Church.



Chapter 2. XXXIV.

The conclusion of this present book, and the excuse of the author.

Now, my masters, you have heard a beginning of the horrific history of my
lord and master Pantagruel. Here will I make an end of the first book. My
head aches a little, and I perceive that the registers of my brain are
somewhat jumbled and disordered with this Septembral juice. You shall have
the rest of the history at Frankfort mart next coming, and there shall you
see how Panurge was married and made a cuckold within a month after his
wedding; how Pantagruel found out the philosopher's stone, the manner how
he found it, and the way how to use it; how he passed over the Caspian
mountains, and how he sailed through the Atlantic sea, defeated the
Cannibals, and conquered the isles of Pearls; how he married the daughter
of the King of India, called Presthan; how he fought against the devil and
burnt up five chambers of hell, ransacked the great black chamber, threw
Proserpina into the fire, broke five teeth to Lucifer, and the horn that
was in his arse; how he visited the regions of the moon to know whether
indeed the moon were not entire and whole, or if the women had three
quarters of it in their heads, and a thousand other little merriments all
veritable. These are brave things truly. Good night, gentlemen.
Perdonate mi, and think not so much upon my faults that you forget your
own.

If you say to me, Master, it would seem that you were not very wise in
writing to us these flimflam stories and pleasant fooleries; I answer you,
that you are not much wiser to spend your time in reading them.
Nevertheless, if you read them to make yourselves merry, as in manner of
pastime I wrote them, you and I both are far more worthy of pardon than a
great rabble of squint-minded fellows, dissembling and counterfeit saints,
demure lookers, hypocrites, pretended zealots, tough friars, buskin-monks,
and other such sects of men, who disguise themselves like masquers to
deceive the world. For, whilst they give the common people to understand
that they are busied about nothing but contemplation and devotion in
fastings and maceration of their sensuality--and that only to sustain and
aliment the small frailty of their humanity--it is so far otherwise that,
on the contrary, God knows what cheer they make; Et Curios simulant, sed
Bacchanalia vivunt. You may read it in great letters in the colouring of
their red snouts, and gulching bellies as big as a tun, unless it be when
they perfume themselves with sulphur. As for their study, it is wholly
taken up in reading of Pantagruelian books, not so much to pass the time
merrily as to hurt someone or other mischievously, to wit, in articling,
sole-articling, wry-neckifying, buttock-stirring, ballocking, and
diabliculating, that is, calumniating. Wherein they are like unto the poor
rogues of a village that are busy in stirring up and scraping in the ordure
and filth of little children, in the season of cherries and guinds, and
that only to find the kernels, that they may sell them to the druggists to
make thereof pomander oil. Fly from these men, abhor and hate them as much
as I do, and upon my faith you will find yourselves the better for it. And
if you desire to be good Pantagruelists, that is to say, to live in peace,
joy, health, making yourselves always merry, never trust those men that
always peep out at one hole.

End of Book II.






BOOK III.


THE THIRD BOOK


Francois Rabelais to the Soul of the Deceased Queen of Navarre.

Abstracted soul, ravished with ecstasies,
Gone back, and now familiar in the skies,
Thy former host, thy body, leaving quite,
Which to obey thee always took delight,--
Obsequious, ready,--now from motion free,
Senseless, and as it were in apathy,
Wouldst thou not issue forth for a short space,
From that divine, eternal, heavenly place,
To see the third part, in this earthy cell,
Of the brave acts of good Pantagruel?



The Author's Prologue.

Good people, most illustrious drinkers, and you, thrice precious gouty
gentlemen, did you ever see Diogenes, and cynic philosopher? If you have
seen him, you then had your eyes in your head, or I am very much out of my
understanding and logical sense. It is a gallant thing to see the
clearness of (wine, gold,) the sun. I'll be judged by the blind born so
renowned in the sacred Scriptures, who, having at his choice to ask
whatever he would from him who is Almighty, and whose word in an instant is
effectually performed, asked nothing else but that he might see. Item, you
are not young, which is a competent quality for you to philosophate more
than physically in wine, not in vain, and henceforwards to be of the
Bacchic Council; to the end that, opining there, you may give your opinion
faithfully of the substance, colour, excellent odour, eminency, propriety,
faculty, virtue, and effectual dignity of the said blessed and desired
liquor.

If you have not seen him, as I am easily induced to believe that you have
not, at least you have heard some talk of him. For through the air, and
the whole extent of this hemisphere of the heavens, hath his report and
fame, even until this present time, remained very memorable and renowned.
Then all of you are derived from the Phrygian blood, if I be not deceived.
If you have not so many crowns as Midas had, yet have you something, I know
not what, of him, which the Persians of old esteemed more of in all their
otacusts, and which was more desired by the Emperor Antonine, and gave
occasion thereafter to the Basilico at Rohan to be surnamed Goodly Ears.
If you have not heard of him, I will presently tell you a story to make
your wine relish. Drink then,--so, to the purpose. Hearken now whilst I
give you notice, to the end that you may not, like infidels, be by your
simplicity abused, that in his time he was a rare philosopher and the
cheerfullest of a thousand. If he had some imperfection, so have you, so
have we; for there is nothing, but God, that is perfect. Yet so it was,
that by Alexander the Great, although he had Aristotle for his instructor
and domestic, was he held in such estimation, that he wished, if he had not
been Alexander, to have been Diogenes the Sinopian.

When Philip, King of Macedon, enterprised the siege and ruin of Corinth,
the Corinthians having received certain intelligence by their spies that he
with a numerous army in battle-rank was coming against them, were all of
them, not without cause, most terribly afraid; and therefore were not
neglective of their duty in doing their best endeavours to put themselves
in a fit posture to resist his hostile approach and defend their own city.

Some from the fields brought into the fortified places their movables,
bestial, corn, wine, fruit, victuals, and other necessary provision.

Others did fortify and rampire their walls, set up little fortresses,
bastions, squared ravelins, digged trenches, cleansed countermines, fenced
themselves with gabions, contrived platforms, emptied casemates, barricaded
the false brays, erected the cavaliers, repaired the counterscarps,
plastered the curtains, lengthened ravelins, stopped parapets, morticed
barbacans, assured the portcullises, fastened the herses, sarasinesques,
and cataracts, placed their sentries, and doubled their patrol. Everyone
did watch and ward, and not one was exempted from carrying the basket.
Some polished corslets, varnished backs and breasts, cleaned the
headpieces, mail-coats, brigandines, salads, helmets, morions, jacks,
gushets, gorgets, hoguines, brassars, and cuissars, corslets, haubergeons,
shields, bucklers, targets, greaves, gauntlets, and spurs. Others made
ready bows, slings, crossbows, pellets, catapults, migrains or fire-balls,
firebrands, balists, scorpions, and other such warlike engines expugnatory
and destructive to the Hellepolides. They sharpened and prepared spears,
staves, pikes, brown bills, halberds, long hooks, lances, zagayes,
quarterstaves, eelspears, partisans, troutstaves, clubs, battle-axes,
maces, darts, dartlets, glaives, javelins, javelots, and truncheons. They
set edges upon scimitars, cutlasses, badelairs, backswords, tucks, rapiers,
bayonets, arrow-heads, dags, daggers, mandousians, poniards, whinyards,
knives, skeans, shables, chipping knives, and raillons.

Every man exercised his weapon, every man scoured off the rust from his
natural hanger; nor was there a woman amongst them, though never so
reserved or old, who made not her harness to be well furbished; as you know
the Corinthian women of old were reputed very courageous combatants.

Diogenes seeing them all so warm at work, and himself not employed by the
magistrates in any business whatsoever, he did very seriously, for many
days together, without speaking one word, consider and contemplate the
countenance of his fellow-citizens.

Then on a sudden, as if he had been roused up and inspired by a martial
spirit, he girded his cloak scarfwise about his left arm, tucked up his
sleeves to the elbow, trussed himself like a clown gathering apples, and,
giving to one of his old acquaintance his wallet, books, and opistographs,
away went he out of town towards a little hill or promontory of Corinth
called (the) Cranie; and there on the strand, a pretty level place, did he
roll his jolly tub, which served him for a house to shelter him from the
injuries of the weather: there, I say, in a great vehemency of spirit, did
he turn it, veer it, wheel it, whirl it, frisk it, jumble it, shuffle it,
huddle it, tumble it, hurry it, jolt it, justle it, overthrow it, evert it,
invert it, subvert it, overturn it, beat it, thwack it, bump it, batter it,
knock it, thrust it, push it, jerk it, shock it, shake it, toss it, throw
it, overthrow it, upside down, topsy-turvy, arsiturvy, tread it, trample
it, stamp it, tap it, ting it, ring it, tingle it, towl it, sound it,
resound it, stop it, shut it, unbung it, close it, unstopple it. And then
again in a mighty bustle he bandied it, slubbered it, hacked it, whittled
it, wayed it, darted it, hurled it, staggered it, reeled it, swinged it,
brangled it, tottered it, lifted it, heaved it, transformed it,
transfigured it, transposed it, transplaced it, reared it, raised it,
hoised it, washed it, dighted it, cleansed it, rinsed it, nailed it,
settled it, fastened it, shackled it, fettered it, levelled it, blocked it,
tugged it, tewed it, carried it, bedashed it, bewrayed it, parched it,
mounted it, broached it, nicked it, notched it, bespattered it, decked it,
adorned it, trimmed it, garnished it, gauged it, furnished it, bored it,
pierced it, trapped it, rumbled it, slid it down the hill, and precipitated
it from the very height of the Cranie; then from the foot to the top (like
another Sisyphus with his stone) bore it up again, and every way so banged
it and belaboured it that it was ten thousand to one he had not struck the
bottom of it out.

Which when one of his friends had seen, and asked him why he did so toil
his body, perplex his spirit, and torment his tub, the philosopher's answer
was that, not being employed in any other charge by the Republic, he
thought it expedient to thunder and storm it so tempestuously upon his tub,
that amongst a people so fervently busy and earnest at work he alone might
not seem a loitering slug and lazy fellow. To the same purpose may I say
of myself,

Though I be rid from fear,
I am not void of care.

For, perceiving no account to be made of me towards the discharge of a
trust of any great concernment, and considering that through all the parts
of this most noble kingdom of France, both on this and on the other side of
the mountains, everyone is most diligently exercised and busied, some in
the fortifying of their own native country for its defence, others in the
repulsing of their enemies by an offensive war; and all this with a policy
so excellent and such admirable order, so manifestly profitable for the
future, whereby France shall have its frontiers most magnifically enlarged,
and the French assured of a long and well-grounded peace, that very little
withholds me from the opinion of good Heraclitus, which affirmeth war to be
the father of all good things; and therefore do I believe that war is in
Latin called bellum, not by antiphrasis, as some patchers of old rusty
Latin would have us to think, because in war there is little beauty to be
seen, but absolutely and simply; for that in war appeareth all that is good
and graceful, and that by the wars is purged out all manner of wickedness
and deformity. For proof whereof the wise and pacific Solomon could no
better represent the unspeakable perfection of the divine wisdom, than by
comparing it to the due disposure and ranking of an army in battle array,
well provided and ordered.

Therefore, by reason of my weakness and inability, being reputed by my
compatriots unfit for the offensive part of warfare; and on the other side,
being no way employed in matter of the defensive, although it had been but
to carry burthens, fill ditches, or break clods, either whereof had been to
me indifferent, I held it not a little disgraceful to be only an idle
spectator of so many valorous, eloquent, and warlike persons, who in the
view and sight of all Europe act this notable interlude or tragi-comedy,
and not make some effort towards the performance of this, nothing at all
remains for me to be done ('And not exert myself, and contribute thereto
this nothing, my all, which remained for me to do. '--Ozell. ). In my
opinion, little honour is due to such as are mere lookers-on, liberal of
their eyes, and of their crowns, and hide their silver; scratching their
head with one finger like grumbling puppies, gaping at the flies like tithe
calves; clapping down their ears like Arcadian asses at the melody of
musicians, who with their very countenances in the depth of silence express
their consent to the prosopopoeia. Having made this choice and election,
it seemed to me that my exercise therein would be neither unprofitable nor
troublesome to any, whilst I should thus set a-going my Diogenical tub,
which is all that is left me safe from the shipwreck of my former
misfortunes.

At this dingle dangle wagging of my tub, what would you have me to do? By
the Virgin that tucks up her sleeve, I know not as yet. Stay a little,
till I suck up a draught of this bottle; it is my true and only Helicon; it
is my Caballine fountain; it is my sole enthusiasm. Drinking thus, I
meditate, discourse, resolve, and conclude. After that the epilogue is
made, I laugh, I write, I compose, and drink again. Ennius drinking wrote,
and writing drank. Aeschylus, if Plutarch in his Symposiacs merit any
faith, drank composing, and drinking composed. Homer never wrote fasting,
and Cato never wrote till after he had drunk. These passages I have
brought before you to the end you may not say that I lived without the
example of men well praised and better prized. It is good and fresh
enough, even as if you would say it is entering upon the second degree.
God, the good God Sabaoth, that is to say, the God of armies, be praised
for it eternally! If you after the same manner would take one great
draught, or two little ones, whilst you have your gown about you, I truly
find no kind of inconveniency in it, provided you send up to God for all
some small scantling of thanks.

Since then my luck or destiny is such as you have heard--for it is not for
everybody to go to Corinth--I am fully resolved to be so little idle and
unprofitable, that I will set myself to serve the one and the other sort of
people. Amongst the diggers, pioneers, and rampire-builders, I will do as
did Neptune and Apollo at Troy under Laomedon, or as did Renault of
Montauban in his latter days: I will serve the masons, I'll set on the pot
to boil for the bricklayers; and, whilst the minced meat is making ready at
the sound of my small pipe, I'll measure the muzzle of the musing dotards.
Thus did Amphion with the melody of his harp found, build, and finish the
great and renowned city of Thebes.

For the use of the warriors I am about to broach of new my barrel to give
them a taste (which by two former volumes of mine, if by the deceitfulness
and falsehood of printers they had not been jumbled, marred, and spoiled,
you would have very well relished), and draw unto them, of the growth of
our own trippery pastimes, a gallant third part of a gallon, and
consequently a jolly cheerful quart of Pantagruelic sentences, which you
may lawfully call, if you please, Diogenical: and shall have me, seeing I
cannot be their fellow-soldier, for their faithful butler, refreshing and
cheering, according to my little power, their return from the alarms of the
enemy; as also for an indefatigable extoller of their martial exploits and
glorious achievements. I shall not fail therein, par lapathium acutum de
dieu; if Mars fail not in Lent, which the cunning lecher, I warrant you,
will be loth to do.

I remember nevertheless to have read, that Ptolemy, the son of Lagus, one
day, amongst the many spoils and booties which by his victories he had
acquired, presenting to the Egyptians, in the open view of the people, a
Bactrian camel all black, and a party-coloured slave, in such sort as that
the one half of his body was black and the other white, not in partition of
breadth by the diaphragma, as was that woman consecrated to the Indian
Venus whom the Tyanean philosopher did see between the river Hydaspes and
Mount Caucasus, but in a perpendicular dimension of altitude; which were
things never before that seen in Egypt. He expected by the show of these
novelties to win the love of the people. But what happened thereupon? At
the production of the camel they were all affrighted, and offended at the
sight of the party-coloured man--some scoffed at him as a detestable
monster brought forth by the error of nature; in a word, of the hope which
he had to please these Egyptians, and by such means to increase the
affection which they naturally bore him, he was altogether frustrate and
disappointed; understanding fully by their deportments that they took more
pleasure and delight in things that were proper, handsome, and perfect,
than in misshapen, monstrous, and ridiculous creatures. Since which time
he had both the slave and the camel in such dislike, that very shortly
thereafter, either through negligence, or for want of ordinary sustenance,
they did exchange their life with death.

This example putteth me in a suspense between hope and fear, misdoubting
that, for the contentment which I aim at, I will but reap what shall be
most distasteful to me: my cake will be dough, and for my Venus I shall
have but some deformed puppy: instead of serving them, I shall but vex
them, and offend them whom I purpose to exhilarate; resembling in this
dubious adventure Euclion's cook, so renowned by Plautus in his Pot, and by
Ausonius in his Griphon, and by divers others; which cook, for having by
his scraping discovered a treasure, had his hide well curried. Put the
case I get no anger by it, though formerly such things fell out, and the
like may occur again. Yet, by Hercules! it will not. So I perceive in
them all one and the same specifical form, and the like individual
properties, which our ancestors called Pantagruelism; by virtue whereof
they will bear with anything that floweth from a good, free, and loyal
heart. I have seen them ordinarily take goodwill in part of payment, and
remain satisfied therewith when one was not able to do better. Having
despatched this point, I return to my barrel.

Up, my lads, to this wine, spare it not! Drink, boys, and trowl it off at
full bowls! If you do not think it good, let it alone. I am not like
those officious and importunate sots, who by force, outrage, and violence,
constrain an easy good-natured fellow to whiffle, quaff, carouse, and what
is worse. All honest tipplers, all honest gouty men, all such as are
a-dry, coming to this little barrel of mine, need not drink thereof if it
please them not; but if they have a mind to it, and that the wine prove
agreeable to the tastes of their worshipful worships, let them drink,
frankly, freely, and boldly, without paying anything, and welcome. This is
my decree, my statute and ordinance.

And let none fear there shall be any want of wine, as at the marriage of
Cana in Galilee; for how much soever you shall draw forth at the faucet, so
much shall I tun in at the bung. Thus shall the barrel remain
inexhaustible; it hath a lively spring and perpetual current. Such was the
beverage contained within the cup of Tantalus, which was figuratively
represented amongst the Brachman sages. Such was in Iberia the mountain of
salt so highly written of by Cato. Such was the branch of gold consecrated
to the subterranean goddess, which Virgil treats of so sublimely. It is a
true cornucopia of merriment and raillery. If at any time it seem to you
to be emptied to the very lees, yet shall it not for all that be drawn
wholly dry. Good hope remains there at the bottom, as in Pandora's bottle;
and not despair, as in the puncheon of the Danaids. Remark well what I
have said, and what manner of people they be whom I do invite; for, to the
end that none be deceived, I, in imitation of Lucilius, who did protest
that he wrote only to his own Tarentines and Consentines, have not pierced
this vessel for any else but you honest men, who are drinkers of the first
edition, and gouty blades of the highest degree. The great dorophages,
bribe-mongers, have on their hands occupation enough, and enough on the
hooks for their venison. There may they follow their prey; here is no
garbage for them. You pettifoggers, garblers, and masters of chicanery,
speak not to me, I beseech you, in the name of, and for the reverence you
bear to the four hips that engendered you and to the quickening peg which
at that time conjoined them. As for hypocrites, much less; although they
were all of them unsound in body, pockified, scurvy, furnished with
unquenchable thirst and insatiable eating. (And wherefore? ) Because
indeed they are not of good but of evil, and of that evil from which we
daily pray to God to deliver us. And albeit we see them sometimes
counterfeit devotion, yet never did old ape make pretty moppet. Hence,
mastiffs; dogs in a doublet, get you behind; aloof, villains, out of my
sunshine; curs, to the devil! Do you jog hither, wagging your tails, to
pant at my wine, and bepiss my barrel? Look, here is the cudgel which
Diogenes, in his last will, ordained to be set by him after his death, for
beating away, crushing the reins, and breaking the backs of these bustuary
hobgoblins and Cerberian hellhounds. Pack you hence, therefore, you
hypocrites, to your sheep-dogs; get you gone, you dissemblers, to the
devil! Hay! What, are you there yet? I renounce my part of Papimanie, if
I snatch you, Grr, Grrr, Grrrrrr. Avaunt, avaunt! Will you not be gone?
May you never shit till you be soundly lashed with stirrup leather, never
piss but by the strapado, nor be otherwise warmed than by the bastinado.






THE THIRD BOOK.


Chapter 3. I.

How Pantagruel transported a colony of Utopians into Dipsody.

Pantagruel, having wholly subdued the land of Dipsody, transported
thereunto a colony of Utopians, to the number of 9,876,543,210 men, besides
the women and little children, artificers of all trades, and professors of
all sciences, to people, cultivate, and improve that country, which
otherwise was ill inhabited, and in the greatest part thereof but a mere
desert and wilderness; and did transport them (not) so much for the
excessive multitude of men and women, which were in Utopia multiplied, for
number, like grasshoppers upon the face of the land. You understand well
enough, nor is it needful further to explain it to you, that the Utopian
men had so rank and fruitful genitories, and that the Utopian women carried
matrixes so ample, so gluttonous, so tenaciously retentive, and so
architectonically cellulated, that at the end of every ninth month seven
children at the least, what male what female, were brought forth by every
married woman, in imitation of the people of Israel in Egypt, if Anthony
(Nicholas) de Lyra be to be trusted. Nor yet was this transplantation made
so much for the fertility of the soil, the wholesomeness of the air, or
commodity of the country of Dipsody, as to retain that rebellious people
within the bounds of their duty and obedience, by this new transport of his
ancient and most faithful subjects, who, from all time out of mind, never
knew, acknowledged, owned, or served any other sovereign lord but him; and
who likewise, from the very instant of their birth, as soon as they were
entered into this world, had, with the milk of their mothers and nurses,
sucked in the sweetness, humanity, and mildness of his government, to which
they were all of them so nourished and habituated, that there was nothing
surer than that they would sooner abandon their lives than swerve from this
singular and primitive obedience naturally due to their prince,
whithersoever they should be dispersed or removed.

And not only should they, and their children successively descending from
their blood, be such, but also would keep and maintain in this same fealty
and obsequious observance all the nations lately annexed to his empire;
which so truly came to pass that therein he was not disappointed of his
intent. For if the Utopians were before their transplantation thither
dutiful and faithful subjects, the Dipsodes, after some few days conversing
with them, were every whit as, if not more, loyal than they; and that by
virtue of I know not what natural fervency incident to all human creatures
at the beginning of any labour wherein they take delight: solemnly
attesting the heavens and supreme intelligences of their being only sorry
that no sooner unto their knowledge had arrived the great renown of the
good Pantagruel.

Remark therefore here, honest drinkers, that the manner of preserving and
retaining countries newly conquered in obedience is not, as hath been the
erroneous opinion of some tyrannical spirits to their own detriment and
dishonour, to pillage, plunder, force, spoil, trouble, oppress, vex,
disquiet, ruin and destroy the people, ruling, governing and keeping them
in awe with rods of iron; and, in a word, eating and devouring them, after
the fashion that Homer calls an unjust and wicked king, Demoboron, that is
to say, a devourer of his people.

I will not bring you to this purpose the testimony of ancient writers. It
shall suffice to put you in mind of what your fathers have seen thereof,
and yourselves too, if you be not very babes. Newborn, they must be given
suck to, rocked in a cradle, and dandled. Trees newly planted must be
supported, underpropped, strengthened and defended against all tempests,
mischiefs, injuries, and calamities. And one lately saved from a long and
dangerous sickness, and new upon his recovery, must be forborn, spared, and
cherished, in such sort that they may harbour in their own breasts this
opinion, that there is not in the world a king or a prince who does not
desire fewer enemies and more friends. Thus Osiris, the great king of the
Egyptians, conquered almost the whole earth, not so much by force of arms
as by easing the people of their troubles, teaching them how to live well,
and honestly giving them good laws, and using them with all possible
affability, courtesy, gentleness, and liberality. Therefore was he by all
men deservedly entitled the Great King Euergetes, that is to say,
Benefactor, which style he obtained by virtue of the command of Jupiter to
(one) Pamyla.

And in effect, Hesiod, in his Hierarchy, placed the good demons (call them
angels if you will, or geniuses,) as intercessors and mediators betwixt the
gods and men, they being of a degree inferior to the gods, but superior to
men. And for that through their hands the riches and benefits we get from
heaven are dealt to us, and that they are continually doing us good and
still protecting us from evil, he saith that they exercise the offices of
kings; because to do always good, and never ill, is an act most singularly
royal.

Just such another was the emperor of the universe, Alexander the
Macedonian. After this manner was Hercules sovereign possessor of the
whole continent, relieving men from monstrous oppressions, exactions, and
tyrannies; governing them with discretion, maintaining them in equity and
justice, instructing them with seasonable policies and wholesome laws,
convenient for and suitable to the soil, climate, and disposition of the
country, supplying what was wanting, abating what was superfluous, and
pardoning all that was past, with a sempiternal forgetfulness of all
preceding offences, as was the amnesty of the Athenians, when by the
prowess, valour, and industry of Thrasybulus the tyrants were
exterminated; afterwards at Rome by Cicero exposed, and renewed under the
Emperor Aurelian. These are the philtres, allurements, iynges,
inveiglements, baits, and enticements of love, by the means whereof that
may be peaceably revived which was painfully acquired. Nor can a
conqueror reign more happily, whether he be a monarch, emperor, king,
prince, or philosopher, than by making his justice to second his valour.
His valour shows itself in victory and conquest; his justice will appear
in the goodwill and affection of the people, when he maketh laws,
publisheth ordinances, establisheth religion, and doth what is right to
everyone, as the noble poet Virgil writes of Octavian Augustus:

Victorque volentes
Per populos dat jura.

Therefore is it that Homer in his Iliads calleth a good prince and great
king Kosmetora laon, that is, the ornament of the people.

Such was the consideration of Numa Pompilius, the second king of the
Romans, a just politician and wise philosopher, when he ordained that to
god Terminus, on the day of his festival called Terminales, nothing should
be sacrificed that had died; teaching us thereby that the bounds, limits,
and frontiers of kingdoms should be guarded, and preserved in peace, amity,
and meekness, without polluting our hands with blood and robbery. Who doth
otherwise, shall not only lose what he hath gained, but also be loaded with
this scandal and reproach, that he is an unjust and wicked purchaser, and
his acquests perish with him; Juxta illud, male parta, male dilabuntur.
And although during his whole lifetime he should have peaceable possession
thereof, yet if what hath been so acquired moulder away in the hands of his
heirs, the same opprobry, scandal, and imputation will be charged upon the
defunct, and his memory remain accursed for his unjust and unwarrantable
conquest; Juxta illud, de male quaesitis vix gaudet tertius haeres.

Remark, likewise, gentlemen, you gouty feoffees, in this main point worthy
of your observation, how by these means Pantagruel of one angel made two,
which was a contingency opposite to the counsel of Charlemagne, who made
two devils of one when he transplanted the Saxons into Flanders and the
Flemings into Saxony. For, not being able to keep in such subjection the
Saxons, whose dominion he had joined to the empire, but that ever and anon
they would break forth into open rebellion if he should casually be drawn
into Spain or other remote kingdoms, he caused them to be brought unto his
own country of Flanders, the inhabitants whereof did naturally obey him,
and transported the Hainaults and Flemings, his ancient loving subjects,
into Saxony, not mistrusting their loyalty now that they were transplanted
into a strange land. But it happened that the Saxons persisted in their
rebellion and primitive obstinacy, and the Flemings dwelling in Saxony did
imbibe the stubborn manners and conditions of the Saxons.



Chapter 3. II.

How Panurge was made Laird of Salmigondin in Dipsody, and did waste his
revenue before it came in.

Whilst Pantagruel was giving order for the government of all Dipsody, he
assigned to Panurge the lairdship of Salmigondin, which was yearly worth
6,789,106,789 reals of certain rent, besides the uncertain revenue of the
locusts and periwinkles, amounting, one year with another, to the value of
435,768, or 2,435,769 French crowns of Berry. Sometimes it did amount to
1,230,554,321 seraphs, when it was a good year, and that locusts and
periwinkles were in request; but that was not every year.

Now his worship, the new laird, husbanded this his estate so providently
well and prudently, that in less than fourteen days he wasted and
dilapidated all the certain and uncertain revenue of his lairdship for
three whole years.
Yet did not he properly dilapidate it, as you might
say, in founding of monasteries, building of churches, erecting of
colleges, and setting up of hospitals, or casting his bacon-flitches to the
dogs; but spent it in a thousand little banquets and jolly collations,
keeping open house for all comers and goers; yea, to all good fellows,
young girls, and pretty wenches; felling timber, burning great logs for the
sale of the ashes, borrowing money beforehand, buying dear, selling cheap,
and eating his corn, as it were, whilst it was but grass.

Pantagruel, being advertised of this his lavishness, was in good sooth no
way offended at the matter, angry nor sorry; for I once told you, and again
tell it you, that he was the best, little, great goodman that ever girded a
sword to his side. He took all things in good part, and interpreted every
action to the best sense. He never vexed nor disquieted himself with the
least pretence of dislike to anything, because he knew that he must have
most grossly abandoned the divine mansion of reason if he had permitted his
mind to be never so little grieved, afflicted, or altered at any occasion
whatsoever. For all the goods that the heaven covereth, and that the earth
containeth, in all their dimensions of height, depth, breadth, and length,
are not of so much worth as that we should for them disturb or disorder our
affections, trouble or perplex our senses or spirits.

He drew only Panurge aside, and then, making to him a sweet remonstrance
and mild admonition, very gently represented before him in strong
arguments, that, if he should continue in such an unthrifty course of
living, and not become a better mesnagier, it would prove altogether
impossible for him, or at least hugely difficult, at any time to make him
rich. Rich! answered Panurge; have you fixed your thoughts there? Have
you undertaken the task to enrich me in this world? Set your mind to live
merrily, in the name of God and good folks; let no other cark nor care be
harboured within the sacrosanctified domicile of your celestial brain. May
the calmness and tranquillity thereof be never incommodated with, or
overshadowed by any frowning clouds of sullen imaginations and displeasing
annoyance! For if you live joyful, merry, jocund, and glad, I cannot be
but rich enough. Everybody cries up thrift, thrift, and good husbandry.
But many speak of Robin Hood that never shot in his bow, and talk of that
virtue of mesnagery who know not what belongs to it. It is by me that they
must be advised. From me, therefore, take this advertisement and
information, that what is imputed to me for a vice hath been done in
imitation of the university and parliament of Paris, places in which is to
be found the true spring and source of the lively idea of Pantheology and
all manner of justice. Let him be counted a heretic that doubteth thereof,
and doth not firmly believe it. Yet they in one day eat up their bishop,
or the revenue of the bishopric--is it not all one? --for a whole year, yea,
sometimes for two. This is done on the day he makes his entry, and is
installed. Nor is there any place for an excuse; for he cannot avoid it,
unless he would be hooted at and stoned for his parsimony.

It hath been also esteemed an act flowing from the habit of the four
cardinal virtues. Of prudence in borrowing money beforehand; for none
knows what may fall out. Who is able to tell if the world shall last yet
three years? But although it should continue longer, is there any man so
foolish as to have the confidence to promise himself three years?

What fool so confident to say,
That he shall live one other day?

Of commutative justice, in buying dear, I say, upon trust, and selling
goods cheap, that is, for ready money. What says Cato in his Book of
Husbandry to this purpose? The father of a family, says he, must be a
perpetual seller; by which means it is impossible but that at last he shall
become rich, if he have of vendible ware enough still ready for sale.

Of distributive justice it doth partake, in giving entertainment to good
--remark, good--and gentle fellows, whom fortune had shipwrecked, like
Ulysses, upon the rock of a hungry stomach without provision of sustenance;
and likewise to the good--remark, the good--and young wenches. For,
according to the sentence of Hippocrates, Youth is impatient of hunger,
chiefly if it be vigorous, lively, frolic, brisk, stirring, and bouncing.
Which wanton lasses willingly and heartily devote themselves to the
pleasure of honest men; and are in so far both Platonic and Ciceronian,
that they do acknowledge their being born into this world not to be for
themselves alone, but that in their proper persons their acquaintance may
claim one share, and their friends another.

The virtue of fortitude appears therein by the cutting down and
overthrowing of the great trees, like a second Milo making havoc of the
dark forest, which did serve only to furnish dens, caves, and shelter to
wolves, wild boars, and foxes, and afford receptacles, withdrawing corners,
and refuges to robbers, thieves, and murderers, lurking holes and skulking
places for cutthroat assassinators, secret obscure shops for coiners of
false money, and safe retreats for heretics, laying them even and level
with the plain champaign fields and pleasant heathy ground, at the sound of
the hautboys and bagpipes playing reeks with the high and stately timber,
and preparing seats and benches for the eve of the dreadful day of
judgment.

I gave thereby proof of my temperance in eating my corn whilst it was but
grass, like a hermit feeding upon salads and roots, that, so affranchising
myself from the yoke of sensual appetites to the utter disclaiming of their
sovereignty, I might the better reserve somewhat in store for the relief of
the lame, blind, crippled, maimed, needy, poor, and wanting wretches.

In taking this course I save the expense of the weed-grubbers, who gain
money,--of the reapers in harvest-time, who drink lustily, and without
water,--of gleaners, who will expect their cakes and bannocks,--of
threshers, who leave no garlic, scallions, leeks, nor onions in our
gardens, by the authority of Thestilis in Virgil,--and of the millers, who
are generally thieves,--and of the bakers, who are little better. Is this
small saving or frugality? Besides the mischief and damage of the
field-mice, the decay of barns, and the destruction usually made by
weasels and other vermin.

Of corn in the blade you may make good green sauce of a light concoction
and easy digestion, which recreates the brain and exhilarates the animal
spirits, rejoiceth the sight, openeth the appetite, delighteth the taste,
comforteth the heart, tickleth the tongue, cheereth the countenance,
striking a fresh and lively colour, strengthening the muscles, tempers the
blood, disburdens the midriff, refresheth the liver, disobstructs the
spleen, easeth the kidneys, suppleth the reins, quickens the joints of the
back, cleanseth the urine-conduits, dilates the spermatic vessels, shortens
the cremasters, purgeth the bladder, puffeth up the genitories, correcteth
the prepuce, hardens the nut, and rectifies the member. It will make you
have a current belly to trot, fart, dung, piss, sneeze, cough, spit, belch,
spew, yawn, snuff, blow, breathe, snort, sweat, and set taut your Robin,
with a thousand other rare advantages. I understand you very well, says
Pantagruel; you would thereby infer that those of a mean spirit and shallow
capacity have not the skill to spend much in a short time. You are not the
first in whose conceit that heresy hath entered. Nero maintained it, and
above all mortals admired most his uncle Caius Caligula, for having in a
few days, by a most wonderfully pregnant invention, totally spent all the
goods and patrimony which Tiberius had left him.

But, instead of observing the sumptuous supper-curbing laws of the Romans
--to wit, the Orchia, the Fannia, the Didia, the Licinia, the Cornelia,
the Lepidiana, the Antia, and of the Corinthians--by the which they were
inhibited, under pain of great punishment, not to spend more in one year
than their annual revenue did amount to, you have offered up the oblation
of Protervia, which was with the Romans such a sacrifice as the paschal
lamb was amongst the Jews, wherein all that was eatable was to be eaten,
and the remainder to be thrown into the fire, without reserving anything
for the next day. I may very justly say of you, as Cato did of Albidius,
who after that he had by a most extravagant expense wasted all the means
and possessions he had to one only house, he fairly set it on fire, that he
might the better say, Consummatum est. Even just as since his time St.
Thomas Aquinas did, when he had eaten up the whole lamprey, although there
was no necessity in it.



Chapter 3. III.

How Panurge praiseth the debtors and borrowers.

But, quoth Pantagruel, when will you be out of debt? At the next ensuing
term of the Greek kalends, answered Panurge, when all the world shall be
content, and that it be your fate to become your own heir. The Lord forbid
that I should be out of debt, as if, indeed, I could not be trusted. Who
leaves not some leaven over night, will hardly have paste the next morning.

Be still indebted to somebody or other, that there may be somebody always
to pray for you, that the giver of all good things may grant unto you a
blessed, long, and prosperous life; fearing, if fortune should deal crossly
with you, that it might be his chance to come short of being paid by you,
he will always speak good of you in every company, ever and anon purchase
new creditors unto you; to the end, that through their means you may make a
shift by borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, and with other folk's earth fill
up his ditch. When of old, in the region of the Gauls, by the institution
of the Druids, the servants, slaves, and bondmen were burnt quick at the
funerals and obsequies of their lords and masters, had not they fear
enough, think you, that their lords and masters should die? For, perforce,
they were to die with them for company. Did not they incessantly send up
their supplications to their great god Mercury, as likewise unto Dis, the
father of wealth, to lengthen out their days, and to preserve them long in
health? Were not they very careful to entertain them well, punctually to
look unto them, and to attend them faithfully and circumspectly? For by
those means were they to live together at least until the hour of death.
Believe me, your creditors with a more fervent devotion will beseech
Almighty God to prolong your life, they being of nothing more afraid than
that you should die; for that they are more concerned for the sleeve than
the arm, and love silver better than their own lives. As it evidently
appeareth by the usurers of Landerousse, who not long since hanged
themselves because the price of the corn and wines was fallen by the return
of a gracious season. To this Pantagruel answering nothing, Panurge went
on in his discourse, saying, Truly and in good sooth, sir, when I ponder my
destiny aright, and think well upon it, you put me shrewdly to my plunges,
and have me at a bay in twitting me with the reproach of my debts and
creditors. And yet did I, in this only respect and consideration of being
a debtor, esteem myself worshipful, reverend, and formidable. For against
the opinion of most philosophers, that of nothing ariseth nothing, yet,
without having bottomed on so much as that which is called the First
Matter, did I out of nothing become such (a) maker and creator, that I have
created--what? --a gay number of fair and jolly creditors. Nay, creditors,
I will maintain it, even to the very fire itself exclusively, are fair and
goodly creatures. Who lendeth nothing is an ugly and wicked creature, and
an accursed imp of the infernal Old Nick. And there is made--what? Debts.
A thing most precious and dainty, of great use and antiquity. Debts, I
say, surmounting the number of syllables which may result from the
combinations of all the consonants, with each of the vowels heretofore
projected, reckoned, and calculated by the noble Xenocrates. To judge of
the perfection of debtors by the numerosity of their creditors is the
readiest way for entering into the mysteries of practical arithmetic.

You can hardly imagine how glad I am, when every morning I perceive myself
environed and surrounded with brigades of creditors--humble, fawning, and
full of their reverences. And whilst I remark that, as I look more
favourably upon and give a cheerfuller countenance to one than to another,
the fellow thereupon buildeth a conceit that he shall be the first
despatched and the foremost in the date of payment, and he valueth my
smiles at the rate of ready money, it seemeth unto me that I then act and
personate the god of the passion of Saumure, accompanied with his angels
and cherubims.

These are my flatterers, my soothers, my clawbacks, my smoothers, my
parasites, my saluters, my givers of good-morrows, and perpetual orators;
which makes me verily think that the supremest height of heroic virtue
described by Hesiod consisteth in being a debtor, wherein I held the first
degree in my commencement. Which dignity, though all human creatures seem
to aim at and aspire thereto, few nevertheless, because of the difficulties
in the way and encumbrances of hard passages, are able to reach it, as is
easily perceivable by the ardent desire and vehement longing harboured in
the breast of everyone to be still creating more debts and new creditors.

Yet doth it not lie in the power of everyone to be a debtor. To acquire
creditors is not at the disposure of each man's arbitrament. You
nevertheless would deprive me of this sublime felicity. You ask me when I
will be out of debt. Well, to go yet further on, and possibly worse in
your conceit, may Saint Bablin, the good saint, snatch me, if I have not
all my lifetime held debt to be as a union or conjunction of the heavens
with the earth, and the whole cement whereby the race of mankind is kept
together; yea, of such virtue and efficacy that, I say, the whole progeny
of Adam would very suddenly perish without it. Therefore, perhaps, I do
not think amiss, when I repute it to be the great soul of the universe,
which, according to the opinion of the Academics, vivifieth all manner of
things. In confirmation whereof, that you may the better believe it to be
so, represent unto yourself, without any prejudicacy of spirit, in a clear
and serene fancy, the idea and form of some other world than this; take, if
you please, and lay hold on the thirtieth of those which the philosopher
Metrodorus did enumerate, wherein it is to be supposed there is no debtor
or creditor, that is to say, a world without debts.

There amongst the planets will be no regular course, all will be in
disorder. Jupiter, reckoning himself to be nothing indebted unto Saturn,
will go near to detrude him out of his sphere, and with the Homeric chain
will be like to hang up the intelligences, gods, heavens, demons, heroes,
devils, earth and sea, together with the other elements. Saturn, no doubt,
combining with Mars will reduce that so disturbed world into a chaos of
confusion.

Mercury then would be no more subjected to the other planets; he would
scorn to be any longer their Camillus, as he was of old termed in the
Etrurian tongue. For it is to be imagined that he is no way a debtor to
them.

Venus will be no more venerable, because she shall have lent nothing. The
moon will remain bloody and obscure. For to what end should the sun impart
unto her any of his light? He owed her nothing. Nor yet will the sun
shine upon the earth, nor the stars send down any good influence, because
the terrestrial globe hath desisted from sending up their wonted
nourishment by vapours and exhalations, wherewith Heraclitus said, the
Stoics proved, Cicero maintained, they were cherished and alimented. There
would likewise be in such a world no manner of symbolization, alteration,
nor transmutation amongst the elements; for the one will not esteem itself
obliged to the other, as having borrowed nothing at all from it. Earth
then will not become water, water will not be changed into air, of air will
be made no fire, and fire will afford no heat unto the earth; the earth
will produce nothing but monsters, Titans, giants; no rain will descend
upon it, nor light shine thereon; no wind will blow there, nor will there
be in it any summer or harvest. Lucifer will break loose, and issuing
forth of the depth of hell, accompanied with his furies, fiends, and horned
devils, will go about to unnestle and drive out of heaven all the gods, as
well of the greater as of the lesser nations. Such a world without lending
will be no better than a dog-kennel, a place of contention and wrangling,
more unruly and irregular than that of the rector of Paris; a devil of an
hurlyburly, and more disordered confusion than that of the plagues of
Douay. Men will not then salute one another; it will be but lost labour to
expect aid or succour from any, or to cry fire, water, murder, for none
will put to their helping hand. Why? He lent no money, there is nothing
due to him. Nobody is concerned in his burning, in his shipwreck, in his
ruin, or in his death; and that because he hitherto had lent nothing, and
would never thereafter have lent anything. In short, Faith, Hope, and
Charity would be quite banished from such a world--for men are born to
relieve and assist one another; and in their stead should succeed and be
introduced Defiance, Disdain, and Rancour, with the most execrable troop of
all evils, all imprecations, and all miseries. Whereupon you will think,
and that not amiss, that Pandora had there spilt her unlucky bottle. Men
unto men will be wolves, hobthrushers, and goblins (as were Lycaon,
Bellerophon, Nebuchodonosor), plunderers, highway robbers, cutthroats,
rapparees, murderers, poisoners, assassinators, lewd, wicked, malevolent,
pernicious haters, set against everybody, like to Ishmael, Metabus, or
Timon the Athenian, who for that cause was named Misanthropos, in such
sort that it would prove much more easy in nature to have fish entertained
in the air and bullocks fed in the bottom of the ocean, than to support or
tolerate a rascally rabble of people that will not lend. These fellows, I
vow, do I hate with a perfect hatred; and if, conform to the pattern of
this grievous, peevish, and perverse world which lendeth nothing, you
figure and liken the little world, which is man, you will find in him a
terrible justling coil and clutter. The head will not lend the sight of
his eyes to guide the feet and hands; the legs will refuse to bear up the
body; the hands will leave off working any more for the rest of the
members; the heart will be weary of its continual motion for the beating of
the pulse, and will no longer lend his assistance; the lungs will withdraw
the use of their bellows; the liver will desist from convoying any more
blood through the veins for the good of the whole; the bladder will not be
indebted to the kidneys, so that the urine thereby will be totally stopped.
The brains, in the interim, considering this unnatural course, will fall
into a raving dotage, and withhold all feeling from the sinews and motion
from the muscles. Briefly, in such a world without order and array, owing
nothing, lending nothing, and borrowing nothing, you would see a more
dangerous conspiration than that which Aesop exposed in his Apologue. Such
a world will perish undoubtedly; and not only perish, but perish very
quickly. Were it Aesculapius himself, his body would immediately rot, and
the chafing soul, full of indignation, take its flight to all the devils of
hell after my money.



Chapter 3. IV.

Panurge continueth his discourse in the praise of borrowers and lenders.

On the contrary, be pleased to represent unto your fancy another world,
wherein everyone lendeth and everyone oweth, all are debtors and all
creditors. O how great will that harmony be, which shall thereby result
from the regular motions of the heavens! Methinks I hear it every whit as
well as ever Plato did. What sympathy will there be amongst the elements!
O how delectable then unto nature will be our own works and productions!
Whilst Ceres appeareth laden with corn, Bacchus with wines, Flora with
flowers, Pomona with fruits, and Juno fair in a clear air, wholesome and
pleasant. I lose myself in this high contemplation.

Then will among the race of mankind peace, love, benevolence, fidelity,
tranquillity, rest, banquets, feastings, joy, gladness, gold, silver,
single money, chains, rings, with other ware and chaffer of that nature be
found to trot from hand to hand. No suits at law, no wars, no strife,
debate, nor wrangling; none will be there a usurer, none will be there a
pinch-penny, a scrape-good wretch, or churlish hard-hearted refuser. Good
God! Will not this be the golden age in the reign of Saturn? the true idea
of the Olympic regions, wherein all (other) virtues cease, charity alone
ruleth, governeth, domineereth, and triumpheth? All will be fair and
goodly people there, all just and virtuous.

O happy world! O people of that world most happy! Yea, thrice and four
times blessed is that people! I think in very deed that I am amongst them,
and swear to you, by my good forsooth, that if this glorious aforesaid
world had a pope, abounding with cardinals, that so he might have the
association of a sacred college, in the space of very few years you should
be sure to see the saints much thicker in the roll, more numerous,
wonder-working and mirific, more services, more vows, more staves and
wax-candles than are all those in the nine bishoprics of Britany, St. Yves
only excepted. Consider, sir, I pray you, how the noble Patelin, having a
mind to deify and extol even to the third heavens the father of William
Josseaulme, said no more but this, And he did lend his goods to those who
were desirous of them.

O the fine saying! Now let our microcosm be fancied conform to this model
in all its members; lending, borrowing, and owing, that is to say,
according to its own nature. For nature hath not to any other end created
man, but to owe, borrow, and lend; no greater is the harmony amongst the
heavenly spheres than that which shall be found in its well-ordered policy.
The intention of the founder of this microcosm is, to have a soul therein
to be entertained, which is lodged there, as a guest with its host, (that)
it may live there for a while. Life consisteth in blood, blood is the seat
of the soul; therefore the chiefest work of the microcosm is, to be making
blood continually.

At this forge are exercised all the members of the body; none is exempted
from labour, each operates apart, and doth its proper office. And such is
their heirarchy, that perpetually the one borrows from the other, the one
lends the other, and the one is the other's debtor. The stuff and matter
convenient, which nature giveth to be turned into blood, is bread and wine.
All kind of nourishing victuals is understood to be comprehended in these
two, and from hence in the Gothish tongue is called companage. To find out
this meat and drink, to prepare and boil it, the hands are put to work, the
feet do walk and bear up the whole bulk of the corporal mass; the eyes
guide and conduct all; the appetite in the orifice of the stomach, by means
of (a) little sourish black humour, called melancholy, which is transmitted
thereto from the milt, giveth warning to shut in the food. The tongue doth
make the first essay, and tastes it; the teeth do chew it, and the stomach
doth receive, digest, and chylify it. The mesaraic veins suck out of it
what is good and fit, leaving behind the excrements, which are, through
special conduits for that purpose, voided by an expulsive faculty.
Thereafter it is carried to the liver, where it being changed again, it by
the virtue of that new transmutation becomes blood. What joy, conjecture
you, will then be found amongst those officers when they see this rivulet
of gold, which is their sole restorative? No greater is the joy of
alchemists, when after long travail, toil, and expense they see in their
furnaces the transmutation. Then is it that every member doth prepare
itself, and strive anew to purify and to refine this treasure. The kidneys
through the emulgent veins draw that aquosity from thence which you call
urine, and there send it away through the ureters to be slipped downwards;
where, in a lower receptacle, and proper for it, to wit, the bladder, it is
kept, and stayeth there until an opportunity to void it out in his due
time. The spleen draweth from the blood its terrestrial part, viz. , the
grounds, lees, or thick substance settled in the bottom thereof, which you
term melancholy. The bottle of the gall subtracts from thence all the
superfluous choler; whence it is brought to another shop or work-house to
be yet better purified and fined, that is, the heart, which by its
agitation of diastolic and systolic motions so neatly subtilizeth and
inflames it, that in the right side ventricle it is brought to perfection,
and through the veins is sent to all the members. Each parcel of the body
draws it then unto itself, and after its own fashion is cherished and
alimented by it. Feet, hands, thighs, arms, eyes, ears, back, breast, yea,
all; and then it is, that who before were lenders, now become debtors. The
heart doth in its left side ventricle so thinnify the blood, that it
thereby obtains the name of spiritual; which being sent through the
arteries to all the members of the body, serveth to warm and winnow the
other blood which runneth through the veins. The lights never cease with
its lappets and bellows to cool and refresh it, in acknowledgment of which
good the heart, through the arterial vein, imparts unto it the choicest of
its blood. At last it is made so fine and subtle within the rete mirabile,
that thereafter those animal spirits are framed and composed of it, by
means whereof the imagination, discourse, judgment, resolution,
deliberation, ratiocination, and memory have their rise, actings, and
operations.

Cops body, I sink, I drown, I perish, I wander astray, and quite fly out of
myself when I enter into the consideration of the profound abyss of this
world, thus lending, thus owing. Believe me, it is a divine thing to
lend,--to owe, an heroic virtue. Yet is not this all. This little world
thus lending, owing, and borrowing, is so good and charitable, that no
sooner is the above-specified alimentation finished, but that it forthwith
projecteth, and hath already forecast, how it shall lend to those who are
not as yet born, and by that loan endeavour what it may to eternize itself,
and multiply in images like the pattern, that is, children. To this end
every member doth of the choicest and most precious of its nourishment pare
and cut off a portion, then instantly despatcheth it downwards to that
place where nature hath prepared for it very fit vessels and receptacles,
through which descending to the genitories by long ambages, circuits, and
flexuosities, it receiveth a competent form, and rooms apt enough both in
man and woman for the future conservation and perpetuating of human kind.
All this is done by loans and debts of the one unto the other; and hence
have we this word, the debt of marriage. Nature doth reckon pain to the
refuser, with a most grievous vexation to his members and an outrageous
fury amidst his senses. But, on the other part, to the lender a set
reward, accompanied with pleasure, joy, solace, mirth, and merry glee.



Chapter 3. V.

How Pantagruel altogether abhorreth the debtors and borrowers.

I understand you very well, quoth Pantagruel, and take you to be very good
at topics, and thoroughly affectioned to your own cause. But preach it up,
and patrocinate it, prattle on it, and defend it as much as you will, even
from hence to the next Whitsuntide, if you please so to do, yet in the end
you will be astonished to find how you shall have gained no ground at all
upon me, nor persuaded me by your fair speeches and smooth talk to enter
never so little into the thraldom of debt. You shall owe to none, saith
the holy Apostle, anything save love, friendship, and a mutual benevolence.

You serve me here, I confess, with fine graphides and diatyposes,
descriptions and figures, which truly please me very well. But let me tell
you, if you will represent unto your fancy an impudent blustering bully and
an importunate borrower, entering afresh and newly into a town already
advertised of his manners, you shall find that at his ingress the citizens
will be more hideously affrighted and amazed, and in a greater terror and
fear, dread, and trembling, than if the pest itself should step into it in
the very same garb and accoutrement wherein the Tyanean philosopher found
it within the city of Ephesus. And I am fully confirmed in the opinion,
that the Persians erred not when they said that the second vice was to lie,
the first being that of owing money. For, in very truth, debts and lying
are ordinarily joined together. I will nevertheless not from hence infer
that none must owe anything or lend anything. For who so rich can be that
sometimes may not owe, or who can be so poor that sometimes may not lend?

Let the occasion, notwithstanding, in that case, as Plato very wisely
sayeth and ordaineth in his laws, be such that none be permitted to draw
any water out of his neighbour's well until first they by continual digging
and delving into their own proper ground shall have hit upon a kind of
potter's earth, which is called ceramite, and there had found no source or
drop of water; for that sort of earth, by reason of its substance, which is
fat, strong, firm, and close, so retaineth its humidity, that it doth not
easily evaporate it by any outward excursion or evaporation.

In good sooth, it is a great shame to choose rather to be still borrowing
in all places from everyone, than to work and win. Then only in my
judgment should one lend, when the diligent, toiling, and industrious
person is no longer able by his labour to make any purchase unto himself,
or otherwise, when by mischance he hath suddenly fallen into an unexpected
loss of his goods.

Howsoever, let us leave this discourse, and from henceforwards do not hang
upon creditors, nor tie yourself to them. I make account for the time past
to rid you freely of them, and from their bondage to deliver you. The
least I should in this point, quoth Panurge, is to thank you, though it be
the most I can do. And if gratitude and thanksgiving be to be estimated
and prized by the affection of the benefactor, that is to be done
infinitely and sempiternally; for the love which you bear me of your own
accord and free grace, without any merit of mine, goeth far beyond the
reach of any price or value. It transcends all weight, all number, all
measure; it is endless and everlasting; therefore, should I offer to
commensurate and adjust it, either to the size and proportion of your own
noble and gracious deeds, or yet to the contentment and delight of the
obliged receivers, I would come off but very faintly and flaggingly. You
have verily done me a great deal of good, and multiplied your favours on me
more frequently than was fitting to one of my condition. You have been
more bountiful towards me than I have deserved, and your courtesies have by
far surpassed the extent of my merits, I must needs confess it. But it is
not, as you suppose, in the proposed matter. For there it is not where I
itch, it is not there where it fretteth, hurts, or vexeth me; for,
henceforth being quit and out of debt, what countenance will I be able to
keep? You may imagine that it will become me very ill for the first month,
because I have never hitherto been brought up or accustomed to it. I am
very much afraid of it. Furthermore, there shall not one hereafter, native
of the country of Salmigondy, but he shall level the shot towards my nose.
All the back-cracking fellows of the world, in discharging of their postern
petarades, use commonly to say, Voila pour les quittes, that is, For the
quit. My life will be of very short continuance, I do foresee it. I
recommend to you the making of my epitaph; for I perceive I will die
confected in the very stench of farts. If, at any time to come, by way of
restorative to such good women as shall happen to be troubled with the
grievous pain of the wind-colic, the ordinary medicaments prove nothing
effectual, the mummy of all my befarted body will straight be as a present
remedy appointed by the physicians; whereof they, taking any small modicum,
it will incontinently for their ease afford them a rattle of bumshot, like
a sal of muskets.

Therefore would I beseech you to leave me some few centuries of debts; as
King Louis the Eleventh, exempting from suits in law the Reverend Miles
d'Illiers, Bishop of Chartres, was by the said bishop most earnestly
solicited to leave him some few for the exercise of his mind. I had rather
give them all my revenue of the periwinkles, together with the other
incomes of the locusts, albeit I should not thereby have any parcel abated
from off the principal sums which I owe. Let us waive this matter, quoth
Pantagruel, I have told it you over again.



Chapter 3. VI.