No More Learning

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.

Why new married men were privileged from going to the wars.

But, in the interim, asked Panurge, by what law was it constituted,
ordained, and established, that such as should plant a new vineyard, those
that should build a new house, and the new married men, should be exempted
and discharged from the duty of warfare for the first year? By the law,
answered Pantagruel, of Moses. Why, replied Panurge, the lately married?
As for the vine-planters, I am now too old to reflect on them; my
condition, at this present, induceth me to remain satisfied with the care
of vintage, finishing and turning the grapes into wine. Nor are these
pretty new builders of dead stones written or pricked down in my Book of
Life. It is all with live stones that I set up and erect the fabrics of my
architecture, to wit, men. It was, according to my opinion, quoth
Pantagruel, to the end, first, that the fresh married folks should for the
first year reap a full and complete fruition of their pleasures in their
mutual exercise of the act of love, in such sort, that in waiting more at
leisure on the production of posterity and propagating of their progeny,
they might the better increase their race and make provision of new heirs.
That if, in the years thereafter, the men should, upon their undergoing of
some military adventure, happen to be killed, their names and coats-of-arms
might continue with their children in the same families. And next, that,
the wives thereby coming to know whether they were barren or fruitful--for
one year's trial, in regard of the maturity of age wherein of old they
married, was held sufficient for the discovery--they might pitch the more
suitably, in case of their first husband's decease, upon a second match.
The fertile women to be wedded to those who desire to multiply their issue;
and the sterile ones to such other mates, as, misregarding the storing of
their own lineage, choose them only for their virtues, learning, genteel
behaviour, domestic consolation, management of the house, and matrimonial
conveniences and comforts, and such like. The preachers of Varennes, saith
Panurge, detest and abhor the second marriages, as altogether foolish and
dishonest.

Foolish and dishonest? quoth Pantagruel. A plague take such preachers!
Yea but, quoth Panurge, the like mischief also befall the Friar Charmer,
who, in a full auditory making a sermon at Pereilly, and therein
abominating the reiteration of marriage and the entering again in the bonds
of a nuptial tie, did swear and heartily give himself to the swiftest devil
in hell, if he had not rather choose, and would much more willingly
undertake the unmaidening or depucelating of a hundred virgins, than the
simple drudgery of one widow. Truly I find your reason in that point right
good and strongly grounded.

But what would you think, if the cause why this exemption or immunity was
granted had no other foundation but that, during the whole space of the
said first year, they so lustily bobbed it with their female consorts, as
both reason and equity require they should do, that they had drained and
evacuated their spermatic vessels; and were become thereby altogether
feeble, weak, emasculated, drooping, and flaggingly pithless; yea, in such
sort that they in the day of battle, like ducks which plunge over head and
ears, would sooner hide themselves behind the baggage, than, in the company
of valiant fighters and daring military combatants, appear where stern
Bellona deals her blows and moves a bustling noise of thwacks and thumps?
Nor is it to be thought that, under the standard of Mars, they will so much
as once strike a fair stroke, because their most considerable knocks have
been already jerked and whirrited within the curtains of his sweetheart
Venus.

In confirmation whereof, amongst other relics and monuments of antiquity,
we now as yet often see, that in all great houses, after the expiring of
some few days, these young married blades are readily sent away to visit
their uncles, that in the absence of their wives reposing themselves a
little they may recover their decayed strength by the recruit of a fresh
supply, the more vigorous to return again and face about to renew the
duelling shock and conflict of an amorous dalliance, albeit for the greater
part they have neither uncle nor aunt to go to.

Just so did the King Crackart, after the battle of the Cornets, not cashier
us (speaking properly), I mean me and the Quail-caller, but for our
refreshment remanded us to our houses; and he is as yet seeking after his
own. My grandfather's godmother was wont to say to me when I was a boy,--

Patenostres et oraisons
Sont pour ceux-la, qui les retiennent.
Ung fiffre en fenaisons
Est plus fort que deux qui en viennent.

Not orisons nor patenotres
Shall ever disorder my brain.
One cadet, to the field as he flutters,
Is worth two, when they end the campaign.

That which prompteth me to that opinion is, that the vine-planters did
seldom eat of the grapes, or drink of the wine of their labour, till the
first year was wholly elapsed. During all which time also the builders did
hardly inhabit their new-structured dwelling-places, for fear of dying
suffocated through want of respiration; as Galen hath most learnedly
remarked, in the second book of the Difficulty of Breathing. Under favour,
sir, I have not asked this question without cause causing and reason truly
very ratiocinant. Be not offended, I pray you.



Chapter 3. VII.

How Panurge had a flea in his ear, and forbore to wear any longer his
magnificent codpiece.

Panurge, the day thereafter, caused pierce his right ear after the Jewish
fashion, and thereto clasped a little gold ring, of a ferny-like kind of
workmanship, in the beazil or collet whereof was set and enchased a flea;
and, to the end you may be rid of all doubts, you are to know that the flea
was black. O, what a brave thing it is, in every case and circumstance of
a matter, to be thoroughly well informed! The sum of the expense hereof,
being cast up, brought in, and laid down upon his council-board carpet, was
found to amount to no more quarterly than the charge of the nuptials of a
Hircanian tigress; even, as you would say, 600,000 maravedis. At these
vast costs and excessive disbursements, as soon as he perceived himself to
be out of debt, he fretted much; and afterwards, as tyrants and lawyers use
to do, he nourished and fed her with the sweat and blood of his subjects
and clients.

He then took four French ells of a coarse brown russet cloth, and therein
apparelling himself, as with a long, plain-seamed, and single-stitched
gown, left off the wearing of his breeches, and tied a pair of spectacles
to his cap. In this equipage did he present himself before Pantagruel; to
whom this disguise appeared the more strange, that he did not, as before,
see that goodly, fair, and stately codpiece, which was the sole anchor of
hope wherein he was wonted to rely, and last refuge he had midst all the
waves and boisterous billows which a stormy cloud in a cross fortune would
raise up against him. Honest Pantagruel, not understanding the mystery,
asked him, by way of interrogatory, what he did intend to personate in that
new-fangled prosopopoeia.
I have, answered Panurge, a flea in mine ear,
and have a mind to marry. In a good time, quoth Pantagruel, you have told
me joyful tidings. Yet would not I hold a red-hot iron in my hand for all
the gladness of them. But it is not the fashion of lovers to be accoutred
in such dangling vestments, so as to have their shirts flagging down over
their knees, without breeches, and with a long robe of a dark brown mingled
hue, which is a colour never used in Talarian garments amongst any persons
of honour, quality, or virtue. If some heretical persons and schismatical
sectaries have at any time formerly been so arrayed and clothed (though
many have imputed such a kind of dress to cosenage, cheat, imposture, and
an affectation of tyranny upon credulous minds of the rude multitude), I
will nevertheless not blame them for it, nor in that point judge rashly or
sinistrously of them. Everyone overflowingly aboundeth in his own sense
and fancy; yea, in things of a foreign consideration, altogether
extrinsical and indifferent, which in and of themselves are neither
commendable nor bad, because they proceed not from the interior of the
thoughts and heart, which is the shop of all good and evil; of goodness, if
it be upright, and that its affections be regulated by the pure and clean
spirit of righteousness; and, on the other side, of wickedness, if its
inclinations, straying beyond the bounds of equity, be corrupted and
depraved by the malice and suggestions of the devil. It is only the
novelty and new-fangledness thereof which I dislike, together with the
contempt of common custom and the fashion which is in use.

The colour, answered Panurge, is convenient, for it is conform to that
of my council-board carpet; therefore will I henceforth hold me with it,
and more narrowly and circumspectly than ever hitherto I have done look to
my affairs and business. Seeing I am once out of debt, you never yet saw
man more unpleasing than I will be, if God help me not. Lo, here be my
spectacles. To see me afar off, you would readily say that it were Friar
(John) Burgess. I believe certainly that in the next ensuing year I shall
once more preach the Crusade. Bounce, buckram. Do you see this russet?
Doubt not but there lurketh under it some hid property and occult virtue
known to very few in the world. I did not take it on before this morning,
and, nevertheless, am already in a rage of lust, mad after a wife, and
vehemently hot upon untying the codpiece-point; I itch, I tingle, I
wriggle, and long exceedingly to be married, that, without the danger of
cudgel-blows, I may labour my female copes-mate with the hard push of a
bull-horned devil. O the provident and thrifty husband that I then will
be! After my death, with all honour and respect due to my frugality, will
they burn the sacred bulk of my body, of purpose to preserve the ashes
thereof, in memory of the choicest pattern that ever was of a perfectly
wary and complete householder. Cops body, this is not the carpet whereon
my treasurer shall be allowed to play false in his accounts with me, by
setting down an X for a V, or an L for an S. For in that case should I
make a hail of fisticuffs to fly into his face. Look upon me, sir, both
before and behind,--it is made after the manner of a toga, which was the
ancient fashion of the Romans in time of peace. I took the mode, shape,
and form thereof in Trajan's Column at Rome, as also in the Triumphant Arch
of Septimus Severus. I am tired of the wars, weary of wearing buff-coats,
cassocks, and hoquetons. My shoulders are pitifully worn and bruised with
the carrying of harness. Let armour cease, and the long robe bear sway!
At least it must be so for the whole space of the succeeding year, if I be
married; as yesterday, by the Mosaic law, you evidenced. In what
concerneth the breeches, my great-aunt Laurence did long ago tell me, that
the breeches were only ordained for the use of the codpiece, and to no
other end; which I, upon a no less forcible consequence, give credit to
every whit, as well as to the saying of the fine fellow Galen, who in his
ninth book, Of the Use and Employment of our Members, allegeth that the
head was made for the eyes. For nature might have placed our heads in our
knees or elbows, but having beforehand determined that the eyes should
serve to discover things from afar, she for the better enabling them to
execute their designed office, fixed them in the head, as on the top of a
long pole, in the most eminent part of all the body--no otherwise than we
see the phares, or high towers erected in the mouths of havens, that
navigators may the further off perceive with ease the lights of the nightly
fires and lanterns. And because I would gladly, for some short while, a
year at least, take a little rest and breathing time from the toilsome
labour of the military profession, that is to say, be married, I have
desisted from wearing any more a codpiece, and consequently have laid aside
my breeches. For the codpiece is the principal and most especial piece of
armour that a warrior doth carry; and therefore do I maintain even to the
fire (exclusively, understand you me), that no Turks can properly be said
to be armed men, in regard that codpieces are by their law forbidden to be
worn.



Chapter 3. VIII.

Why the codpiece is held to be the chief piece of armour amongst warriors.

Will you maintain, quoth Pantagruel, that the codpiece is the chief piece
of a military harness? It is a new kind of doctrine, very paradoxical; for
we say, At spurs begins the arming of a man. Sir, I maintain it, answered
Panurge, and not wrongfully do I maintain it. Behold how nature, having a
fervent desire, after its production of plants, trees, shrubs, herbs,
sponges, and plant-animals, to eternize and continue them unto all
succession of ages (in their several kinds or sorts, at least, although the
individuals perish) unruinable, and in an everlasting being, hath most
curiously armed and fenced their buds, sprouts, shoots, and seeds, wherein
the above-mentioned perpetuity consisteth, by strengthening, covering,
guarding, and fortifying them with an admirable industry, with husks,
cases, scurfs and swads, hulls, cods, stones, films, cartels, shells, ears,
rinds, barks, skins, ridges, and prickles, which serve them instead of
strong, fair, and natural codpieces. As is manifestly apparent in pease,
beans, fasels, pomegranates, peaches, cottons, gourds, pumpions, melons,
corn, lemons, almonds, walnuts, filberts, and chestnuts; as likewise in all
plants, slips, or sets whatsoever, wherein it is plainly and evidently
seen, that the sperm and semence is more closely veiled, overshadowed,
corroborated, and thoroughly harnessed, than any other part, portion, or
parcel of the whole.

Nature, nevertheless, did not after that manner provide for the
sempiternizing of (the) human race; but, on the contrary, created man
naked, tender, and frail, without either offensive or defensive arms; and
that in the estate of innocence, in the first age of all, which was the
golden season; not as a plant, but living creature, born for peace, not
war, and brought forth into the world with an unquestionable right and
title to the plenary fruition and enjoyment of all fruits and vegetables,
as also to a certain calm and gentle rule and dominion over all kinds of
beasts, fowls, fishes, reptiles, and insects. Yet afterwards it happening
in the time of the iron age, under the reign of Jupiter, when, to the
multiplication of mischievous actions, wickedness and malice began to take
root and footing within the then perverted hearts of men, that the earth
began to bring forth nettles, thistles, thorns, briars, and such other
stubborn and rebellious vegetables to the nature of man. Nor scarce was
there any animal which by a fatal disposition did not then revolt from him,
and tacitly conspire and covenant with one another to serve him no longer,
nor, in case of their ability to resist, to do him any manner of obedience,
but rather, to the uttermost of their power, to annoy him with all the hurt
and harm they could. The man, then, that he might maintain his primitive
right and prerogative, and continue his sway and dominion over all, both
vegetable and sensitive creatures, and knowing of a truth that he could not
be well accommodated as he ought without the servitude and subjection of
several animals, bethought himself that of necessity he must needs put on
arms, and make provision of harness against wars and violence. By the holy
Saint Babingoose, cried out Pantagruel, you are become, since the last
rain, a great lifrelofre,--philosopher, I should say. Take notice, sir,
quoth Panurge, when Dame Nature had prompted him to his own arming, what
part of the body it was, where, by her inspiration, he clapped on the first
harness. It was forsooth by the double pluck of my little dog the ballock
and good Senor Don Priapos Stabo-stando--which done, he was content, and
sought no more. This is certified by the testimony of the great Hebrew
captain (and) philosopher Moses, who affirmeth that he fenced that member
with a brave and gallant codpiece, most exquisitely framed, and by right
curious devices of a notably pregnant invention made up and composed of
fig-tree leaves, which by reason of their solid stiffness, incisory
notches, curled frizzling, sleeked smoothness, large ampleness, together
with their colour, smell, virtue, and faculty, were exceeding proper and
fit for the covering and arming of the satchels of generation--the
hideously big Lorraine cullions being from thence only excepted, which,
swaggering down to the lowermost bottom of the breeches, cannot abide, for
being quite out of all order and method, the stately fashion of the high
and lofty codpiece; as is manifest by the noble Valentine Viardiere, whom I
found at Nancy, on the first day of May--the more flauntingly to
gallantrize it afterwards--rubbing his ballocks, spread out upon a table
after the manner of a Spanish cloak. Wherefore it is, that none should
henceforth say, who would not speak improperly, when any country bumpkin
hieth to the wars, Have a care, my roister, of the wine-pot, that is, the
skull, but, Have a care, my roister, of the milk-pot, that is, the
testicles. By the whole rabble of the horned fiends of hell, the head
being cut off, that single person only thereby dieth. But, if the ballocks
be marred, the whole race of human kind would forthwith perish, and be lost
for ever.

This was the motive which incited the goodly writer Galen, Lib. 1. De
Spermate, to aver with boldness that it were better, that is to say, a less
evil, to have no heart at all than to be quite destitute of genitories; for
there is laid up, conserved, and put in store, as in a secessive repository
and sacred warehouse, the semence and original source of the whole
offspring of mankind. Therefore would I be apt to believe, for less than a
hundred francs, that those are the very same stones by means whereof
Deucalion and Pyrrha restored the human race, in peopling with men and
women the world, which a little before that had been drowned in the
overflowing waves of a poetical deluge. This stirred up the valiant
Justinian, L. 4. De Cagotis tollendis, to collocate his Summum Bonum, in
Braguibus, et Braguetis. For this and other causes, the Lord Humphrey de
Merville, following of his king to a certain warlike expedition, whilst he
was in trying upon his own person a new suit of armour, for of his old
rusty harness he could make no more use, by reason that some few years
since the skin of his belly was a great way removed from his kidneys, his
lady thereupon, in the profound musing of a contemplative spirit, very
maturely considering that he had but small care of the staff of love and
packet of marriage, seeing he did no otherwise arm that part of the body
than with links of mail, advised him to shield, fence, and gabionate it
with a big tilting helmet which she had lying in her closet, to her
otherwise utterly unprofitable. On this lady were penned these subsequent
verses, which are extant in the third book of the Shitbrana of Paltry
Wenches.

When Yoland saw her spouse equipp'd for fight,
And, save the codpiece, all in armour dight,
My dear, she cried, why, pray, of all the rest
Is that exposed, you know I love the best?
Was she to blame for an ill-managed fear,--
Or rather pious, conscionable care?
Wise lady, she! In hurlyburly fight,
Can any tell where random blows may light?

Leave off then, sir, from being astonished, and wonder no more at this new
manner of decking and trimming up of myself as you now see me.



Chapter 3. IX.

How Panurge asketh counsel of Pantagruel whether he should marry, yea, or
no.

To this Pantagruel replying nothing, Panurge prosecuted the discourse he
had already broached, and therewithal fetching, as from the bottom of his
heart, a very deep sigh, said, My lord and master, you have heard the
design I am upon, which is to marry, if by some disastrous mischance all
the holes in the world be not shut up, stopped, closed, and bushed. I
humbly beseech you, for the affection which of a long time you have borne
me, to give me your best advice therein. Then, answered Pantagruel, seeing
you have so decreed, taken deliberation thereon, and that the matter is
fully determined, what need is there of any further talk thereof, but
forthwith to put it into execution what you have resolved? Yea but, quoth
Panurge, I would be loth to act anything therein without your counsel had
thereto. It is my judgment also, quoth Pantagruel, and I advise you to it.
Nevertheless, quoth Panurge, if I understood aright that it were much
better for me to remain a bachelor as I am, than to run headlong upon new
hairbrained undertakings of conjugal adventure, I would rather choose not
to marry. Quoth Pantagruel, Then do not marry. Yea but, quoth Panurge,
would you have me so solitarily drive out the whole course of my life,
without the comfort of a matrimonial consort? You know it is written, Vae
soli! and a single person is never seen to reap the joy and solace that is
found with married folks. Then marry, in the name of God, quoth
Pantagruel. But if, quoth Panurge, my wife should make me a cuckold--as it
is not unknown unto you, how this hath been a very plentiful year in the
production of that kind of cattle--I would fly out, and grow impatient
beyond all measure and mean. I love cuckolds with my heart, for they seem
unto me to be of a right honest conversation, and I truly do very willingly
frequent their company; but should I die for it, I would not be one of
their number. That is a point for me of a too sore prickling point. Then
do not marry, quoth Pantagruel, for without all controversy this sentence
of Seneca is infallibly true, What thou to others shalt have done, others
will do the like to thee. Do you, quoth Panurge, aver that without all
exception? Yes, truly, quoth Pantagruel, without all exception. Ho, ho,
says Panurge, by the wrath of a little devil, his meaning is, either in
this world or in the other which is to come. Yet seeing I can no more want
a wife than a blind man his staff--(for) the funnel must be in agitation,
without which manner of occupation I cannot live--were it not a great deal
better for me to apply and associate myself to some one honest, lovely, and
virtuous woman, than as I do, by a new change of females every day, run a
hazard of being bastinadoed, or, which is worse, of the great pox, if not
of both together. For never--be it spoken by their husbands' leave and
favour--had I enjoyment yet of an honest woman. Marry then, in God's name,
quoth Pantagruel. But if, quoth Panurge, it were the will of God, and that
my destiny did unluckily lead me to marry an honest woman who should beat
me, I would be stored with more than two third parts of the patience of
Job, if I were not stark mad by it, and quite distracted with such rugged
dealings. For it hath been told me that those exceeding honest women have
ordinarily very wicked head-pieces; therefore is it that their family
lacketh not for good vinegar. Yet in that case should it go worse with me,
if I did not then in such sort bang her back and breast, so thumpingly
bethwack her gillets, to wit, her arms, legs, head, lights, liver, and
milt, with her other entrails, and mangle, jag, and slash her coats so
after the cross-billet fashion that the greatest devil of hell should wait
at the gate for the reception of her damnel soul. I could make a shift for
this year to waive such molestation and disquiet, and be content to lay
aside that trouble, and not to be engaged in it.

Do not marry then, answered Pantagruel. Yea but, quoth Panurge,
considering the condition wherein I now am, out of debt and unmarried; mark
what I say, free from all debt, in an ill hour, for, were I deeply on the
score, my creditors would be but too careful of my paternity, but being
quit, and not married, nobody will be so regardful of me, or carry towards
me a love like that which is said to be in a conjugal affection. And if by
some mishap I should fall sick, I would be looked to very waywardly. The
wise man saith, Where there is no woman--I mean the mother of a family and
wife in the union of a lawful wedlock--the crazy and diseased are in danger
of being ill used and of having much brabbling and strife about them; as by
clear experience hath been made apparent in the persons of popes, legates,
cardinals, bishops, abbots, priors, priests, and monks; but there, assure
yourself, you shall not find me. Marry then, in the name of God, answered
Pantagruel. But if, quoth Panurge, being ill at ease, and possibly through
that distemper made unable to discharge the matrimonial duty that is
incumbent to an active husband, my wife, impatient of that drooping
sickness and faint-fits of a pining languishment, should abandon and
prostitute herself to the embraces of another man, and not only then not
help and assist me in my extremity and need, but withal flout at and make
sport of that my grievous distress and calamity; or peradventure, which is
worse, embezzle my goods and steal from me, as I have seen it oftentimes
befall unto the lot of many other men, it were enough to undo me utterly,
to fill brimful the cup of my misfortune, and make me play the mad-pate
reeks of Bedlam. Do not marry then, quoth Pantagruel. Yea but, said
Panurge, I shall never by any other means come to have lawful sons and
daughters, in whom I may harbour some hope of perpetuating my name and
arms, and to whom also I may leave and bequeath my inheritances and
purchased goods (of which latter sort you need not doubt but that in some
one or other of these mornings I will make a fair and goodly show), that so
I may cheer up and make merry when otherwise I should be plunged into a
peevish sullen mood of pensive sullenness, as I do perceive daily by the
gentle and loving carriage of your kind and gracious father towards you; as
all honest folks use to do at their own homes and private dwelling-houses.
For being free from debt, and yet not married, if casually I should fret
and be angry, although the cause of my grief and displeasure were never so
just, I am afraid, instead of consolation, that I should meet with nothing
else but scoffs, frumps, gibes, and mocks at my disastrous fortune. Marry
then, in the name of God, quoth Pantagruel.



Chapter 3. X.

How Pantagruel representeth unto Panurge the difficulty of giving advice in
the matter of marriage; and to that purpose mentioneth somewhat of the
Homeric and Virgilian lotteries.

Your counsel, quoth Panurge, under your correction and favour, seemeth unto
me not unlike to the song of Gammer Yea-by-nay. It is full of sarcasms,
mockeries, bitter taunts, nipping bobs, derisive quips, biting jerks, and
contradictory iterations, the one part destroying the other. I know not,
quoth Pantagruel, which of all my answers to lay hold on; for your
proposals are so full of ifs and buts, that I can ground nothing on them,
nor pitch upon any solid and positive determination satisfactory to what is
demanded by them. Are not you assured within yourself of what you have a
mind to? The chief and main point of the whole matter lieth there. All
the rest is merely casual, and totally dependeth upon the fatal disposition
of the heavens.

We see some so happy in the fortune of this nuptial encounter, that their
family shineth as it were with the radiant effulgency of an idea, model, or
representation of the joys of paradise; and perceive others, again, to be
so unluckily matched in the conjugal yoke, that those very basest of devils
which tempt the hermits that inhabit the deserts of Thebais and Montserrat
are not more miserable than they. It is therefore expedient, seeing you
are resolved for once to take a trial of the state of marriage, that, with
shut eyes, bowing your head, and kissing the ground, you put the business
to a venture, and give it a fair hazard, in recommending the success of the
residue to the disposure of Almighty God. It lieth not in my power to give
you any other manner of assurance, or otherwise to certify you of what
shall ensue on this your undertaking. Nevertheless, if it please you, this
you may do. Bring hither Virgil's poems, that after having opened the
book, and with our fingers severed the leaves thereof three several times,
we may, according to the number agreed upon betwixt ourselves, explore the
future hap of your intended marriage. For frequently by a Homeric lottery
have many hit upon their destinies; as is testified in the person of
Socrates, who, whilst he was in prison, hearing the recitation of this
verse of Homer, said of Achilles in the Ninth of the Iliads--

Emati ke tritato Phthien eribolon ikoimen,

We, the third day, to fertile Pthia came--

thereby foresaw that on the third subsequent day he was to die. Of the
truth whereof he assured Aeschines; as Plato, in Critone, Cicero, in Primo,
de Divinatione, Diogenes Laertius, and others, have to the full recorded in
their works. The like is also witnessed by Opilius Macrinus, to whom,
being desirous to know if he should be the Roman emperor, befell, by chance
of lot, this sentence in the Eighth of the Iliads--

O geron, e mala de se neoi teirousi machetai,
Ze de bin lelutai, chalepon de se geras opazei.

Dotard, new warriors urge thee to be gone.
Thy life decays, and old age weighs thee down.

In fact, he, being then somewhat ancient, had hardly enjoyed the
sovereignty of the empire for the space of fourteen months, when by
Heliogabalus, then both young and strong, he was dispossessed thereof,
thrust out of all, and killed. Brutus doth also bear witness of another
experiment of this nature, who willing, through this exploratory way by
lot, to learn what the event and issue should be of the Pharsalian battle
wherein he perished, he casually encountered on this verse, said of
Patroclus in the Sixteenth of the Iliads--

Alla me moir oloe, kai Letous ektanen uios.

Fate, and Latona's son have shot me dead.

And accordingly Apollo was the field-word in the dreadful day of that
fight. Divers notable things of old have likewise been foretold and known
by casting of Virgilian lots; yea, in matters of no less importance than
the obtaining of the Roman empire, as it happened to Alexander Severus,
who, trying his fortune at the said kind of lottery, did hit upon this
verse written in the Sixth of the Aeneids--

Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento.

Know, Roman, that thy business is to reign.

He, within very few years thereafter, was effectually and in good earnest
created and installed Roman emperor. A semblable story thereto is related
of Adrian, who, being hugely perplexed within himself out of a longing
humour to know in what account he was with the Emperor Trajan, and how
large the measure of that affection was which he did bear unto him, had
recourse, after the manner above specified, to the Maronian lottery, which
by haphazard tendered him these lines out of the Sixth of the Aeneids--

Quis procul ille autem, ramis insignis olivae
Sacra ferens? Nosco crines incanaque menta
Regis Romani.

But who is he, conspicuous from afar,
With olive boughs, that doth his offerings bear?
By the white hair and beard I know him plain,
The Roman king.

Shortly thereafter was he adopted by Trajan, and succeeded to him in the
empire. Moreover, to the lot of the praiseworthy Emperor Claudius befell
this line of Virgil, written in the Sixth of his Aeneids--

Tertia dum Latio regnantem viderit aestas.

Whilst the third summer saw him reign, a king
In Latium.

And in effect he did not reign above two years. To the said Claudian also,
inquiring concerning his brother Quintilius, whom he proposed as a
colleague with himself in the empire, happened the response following in
the Sixth of the Aeneids--

Ostendent terris hunc tantum fata.

Whom Fate let us see,
And would no longer suffer him to be.

And it so fell out; for he was killed on the seventeenth day after he had
attained unto the management of the imperial charge. The very same lot,
also, with the like misluck, did betide the Emperor Gordian the younger.
To Claudius Albinus, being very solicitous to understand somewhat of his
future adventures, did occur this saying, which is written in the Sixth of
the Aeneids--

Hic rem Romanam magno turbante tumultu
Sistet Eques, &c.

The Romans, boiling with tumultuous rage,
This warrior shall the dangerous storm assuage:
With victories he the Carthaginian mauls,
And with strong hand shall crush the rebel Gauls.

Likewise, when the Emperor D. Claudius, Aurelian's predecessor, did with
great eagerness research after the fate to come of his posterity, his hap
was to alight on this verse in the First of the Aeneids--

Hic ego nec metas rerum, nec tempora pono.

No bounds are to be set, no limits here.

Which was fulfilled by the goodly genealogical row of his race. When Mr.
Peter Amy did in like manner explore and make trial if he should escape the
ambush of the hobgoblins who lay in wait all-to-bemaul him, he fell upon
this verse in the Third of the Aeneids--

Heu! fuge crudeles terras, fuge littus avarum!

Oh, flee the bloody land, the wicked shore!

Which counsel he obeying, safe and sound forthwith avoided all these
ambuscades.

Were it not to shun prolixity, I could enumerate a thousand such like
adventures, which, conform to the dictate and verdict of the verse, have by
that manner of lot-casting encounter befallen to the curious researchers of
them. Do not you nevertheless imagine, lest you should be deluded, that I
would upon this kind of fortune-flinging proof infer an uncontrollable and
not to be gainsaid infallibility of truth.



Chapter 3. XI.

How Pantagruel showeth the trial of one's fortune by the throwing of dice
to be unlawful.

It would be sooner done, quoth Panurge, and more expeditely, if we should
try the matter at the chance of three fair dice. Quoth Pantagruel, That
sort of lottery is deceitful, abusive, illicitous, and exceedingly
scandalous. Never trust in it. The accursed book of the Recreation of
Dice was a great while ago excogitated in Achaia, near Bourre, by that
ancient enemy of mankind, the infernal calumniator, who, before the statue
or massive image of the Bourraic Hercules, did of old, and doth in several
places of the world as yet, make many simple souls to err and fall into his
snares. You know how my father Gargantua hath forbidden it over all his
kingdoms and dominions; how he hath caused burn the moulds and draughts
thereof, and altogether suppressed, abolished, driven forth, and cast it
out of the land, as a most dangerous plague and infection to any
well-polished state or commonwealth. What I have told you of dice, I say
the same of the play at cockall. It is a lottery of the like guile and
deceitfulness; and therefore do not for convincing of me allege in
opposition to this my opinion, or bring in the example of the fortunate cast
of Tiberius, within the fountain of Aponus, at the oracle of Gerion. These
are the baited hooks by which the devil attracts and draweth unto him the
foolish souls of silly people into eternal perdition.

Nevertheless, to satisfy your humour in some measure, I am content you
throw three dice upon this table, that, according to the number of the
blots which shall happen to be cast up, we may hit upon a verse of that
page which in the setting open of the book you shall have pitched upon.

Have you any dice in your pocket? A whole bagful, answered Panurge. That
is provision against the devil, as is expounded by Merlin Coccaius, Lib.
2. De Patria Diabolorum. The devil would be sure to take me napping, and
very much at unawares, if he should find me without dice. With this, the
three dice being taken out, produced, and thrown, they fell so pat upon the
lower points that the cast was five, six, and five. These are, quoth
Panurge, sixteen in all. Let us take the sixteenth line of the page. The
number pleaseth me very well; I hope we shall have a prosperous and happy
chance. May I be thrown amidst all the devils of hell, even as a great
bowl cast athwart at a set of ninepins, or cannon-ball shot among a
battalion of foot, in case so many times I do not boult my future wife the
first night of our marriage! Of that, forsooth, I make no doubt at all,
quoth Pantagruel. You needed not to have rapped forth such a horrid
imprecation, the sooner to procure credit for the performance of so small a
business, seeing possibly the first bout will be amiss, and that you know
is usually at tennis called fifteen. At the next justling turn you may
readily amend that fault, and so complete your reckoning of sixteen. Is it
so, quoth Panurge, that you understand the matter? And must my words be
thus interpreted? Nay, believe me never yet was any solecism committed by
that valiant champion who often hath for me in Belly-dale stood sentry at
the hypogastrian cranny. Did you ever hitherto find me in the
confraternity of the faulty? Never, I trow; never, nor ever shall, for
ever and a day. I do the feat like a goodly friar or father confessor,
without default. And therein am I willing to be judged by the players. He
had no sooner spoke these words than the works of Virgil were brought in.
But before the book was laid open, Panurge said to Pantagruel, My heart,
like the furch of a hart in a rut, doth beat within my breast. Be pleased
to feel and grope my pulse a little on this artery of my left arm. At its
frequent rise and fall you would say that they swinge and belabour me after
the manner of a probationer, posed and put to a peremptory trial in the
examination of his sufficiency for the discharge of the learned duty of a
graduate in some eminent degree in the college of the Sorbonists.

But would you not hold it expedient, before we proceed any further, that we
should invocate Hercules and the Tenetian goddesses who in the chamber of
lots are said to rule, sit in judgment, and bear a presidential sway?
Neither him nor them, answered Pantagruel; only open up the leaves of the
book with your fingers, and set your nails awork.



Chapter 3. XII.

How Pantagruel doth explore by the Virgilian lottery what fortune Panurge
shall have in his marriage.

Then at the opening of the book in the sixteenth row of the lines of the
disclosed page did Panurge encounter upon this following verse:

Nec Deus hunc mensa, Dea nec dignata cubili est.

The god him from his table banished,
Nor would the goddess have him in her bed.

This response, quoth Pantagruel, maketh not very much for your benefit or
advantage; for it plainly signifies and denoteth that your wife shall be a
strumpet, and yourself by consequence a cuckold. The goddess, whom you
shall not find propitious nor favourable unto you, is Minerva, a most
redoubtable and dreadful virgin, a powerful and fulminating goddess, an
enemy to cuckolds and effeminate youngsters, to cuckold-makers and
adulterers. The god is Jupiter, a terrible and thunder-striking god from
heaven. And withal it is to be remarked, that, conform to the doctrine of
the ancient Etrurians, the manubes, for so did they call the darting hurls
or slinging casts of the Vulcanian thunderbolts, did only appertain to her
and to Jupiter her father capital. This was verified in the conflagration
of the ships of Ajax Oileus, nor doth this fulminating power belong to any
other of the Olympic gods.