Gargantua and Pantagruel
Page 16
Once she had got in and shut the door behind her, the dogs from half-a-league around came and piddled all over her portals, forming a stream with their divers urines which ducks could have swum in.
[And that is the stream which nowadays flows through Saint-Victor and in which Gobelin dyes his scarlet-cloth on account of the specific qualities of those various dog-piddles: Magister Noster d’Oribus once publicly preached about it. Why, God help you! a mill could have turned in it, though not as well as the mills of the Bazacle at Toulouse.]
How Pantagruel departed from Paris on hearing news that the Dipsodes were invading the land of the Amaurots. And why the leagues are so short in France. And the Exposition of a saying inscribed upon a ring
CHAPTER 15
[This becomes Chapter 23, and the third sentence of the title is then omitted. In the first sentence of the text, Enoch and Elijah are replaced by the medieval heroes Ogier and Arthur.
Rabelais thrice uses the same verb ‘to ride’ (in a sexual sense) but later varied the second and third to ‘swive’ and ‘play the ram’.]
Soon afterwards the news reached Pantagruel that Gargantua, his father, had been translated to Faërie by Morgan (as once were Enoch and Elijah) and that the Dipsodes, after hearing the rumour of his translation, had issued from their frontiers, laid waste a large stretch of Utopia, and were investing the great city of the Amaurots. Whereupon, without taking leave of anyone whatsoever, since the matter required speed, he left Paris and made his way to Rouen.
Now Pantagruel, noticing en route that the leagues in France are shorter by far than in other lands, asked Panurge the why and the wherefore. Panurge told him a tale related by the monk Marotus Du Lac in his Romance of the Kings of Canarre which says that long, long ago, countries had never been broken up into leagues, miles, [stadia] or parasangs until King Pharamond so divided them, doing so in the following manner: he selected one hundred handsome, determined and gallant young fellow-me-lads in Paris and a hundred fair maidens from Picardy, causing them to be well treated and thoroughly spoiled for a week. He then summoned them and bestowed a maid on each youth, with plenty of money for expenses, commanding them to travel this way and that to various places and to set up a stone at every spot where they rode their maidens, each stone marking a league.
So those lads went merrily on their way, and, since they were fresh to the job and had time to spare, they rode their maidens at the bottom of every field: and that is why leagues are so short in France. But after they had journeyed further and were already as exhausted as poor devils, they had no oil left in their lamps and so rode less often. They were then quite satisfied – the men were I mean – with one poor, wan little go a day; and that is why in Brittany, the Landes and Germany, as in similar, remoter lands, the leagues are so long.
Others suggest other reasons, but that one seems best to me.
To which Pantagruel readily agreed.
Leaving for Rouen, they came to Honfleur, where Pantagruel went aboard ship with Panurge, Epistemon, Eusthenes and Carpalim; but while they were waiting there for a favourable wind and caulking their boat, he received a letter from a lady of Paris with whom he had kept company for a good while. The address on it read:
To the One most beloved of Beauties and
the least Loyal of valiant knights:
ΡΝΤGRL.
*
[A new chapter later starts here: A letter which a messenger brought to Pantagruel from a lady in Paris, together with an explication of a saying inscribed upon a golden ring. Chapter 24.
Rabelais was at times involved in secret diplomacy. He probably had a practical interest in invisible writing. Many of the methods listed were well known since Classical antiquity: the milky sap of the tithymalus plant (euphorbia, a kind of spurge) is mentioned for example by Pliny. The later citing here of the ‘milk from the spurge’ is a doublet. The secret method explained by Aulus Gellius is cited by Cicero: it consists in so writing a message on a piece of papyrus that it can be read only when wrapped round a staff of the right size.
The supposed works by Messer Francesco di Nianto of Tuscany, Zoroaster and Calphurnius Bassus are imaginary.
Some of the erudite references are taken from the Adages and Apophthegms of Erasmus.
The tale, with the light-hearted, indirect use of Christ’s words on the Cross, ‘Why hast thou forsaken me’ (cited from Psalm 22:1), is borrowed from a novella by Masuccio
The jest further centres on a pun between ‘diamant’ (diamond) and ‘di amant’ (say, lover).
The boasting of the heroes before the battle corresponds to the traditional ‘gabbing’ of knights before battle in the chivalrous romances.
The harbour of Achoria later becomes that of Utopia. Both terms are from Thomas More.
Zopyrus was a spy for Darius; Sinon tricked the enemy into admitting the Trojan Horse.]
Having read the inscription, he was most surprised, and asking the messenger the name of the lady who had sent it, he unfolded the letter, only to find nothing written inside, simply a golden ring bearing a square-table diamond. He then called Panurge over and showed it to him.
At which Panurge told him that that leaf of paper was indeed written upon, but so cunningly that the writing was invisible.
To reveal it he held it against the fire, to see whether the writing had been done in sal ammoniac steeped in water.
Then he soaked it in water, to see whether the letter was written in the sap of the tithymalus.
Then he held it up to the candle, to see whether it was not written in the juice of white onions.
He then rubbed a part of it with walnut oil, to see whether it was not written in a lessive made from the ashes of a fig-tree.
He then rubbed a part with the milk of a mother suckling her first-born daughter, to see whether it was not written in toad’s blood.
He then rubbed a corner of it with the ashes of a swallow’s nest, to see whether it was written in the secretions within the bladder-wort.
He then rubbed another part with ear-wax, to see whether it was written in raven’s gall.
He then soaked it in vinegar, to see whether it was written in milk from the spurge.
He then coated it with the axunge of bats, to see whether it was written in the kind of whale-sperm which we call ambergris.
He then slid it gently into a basin of clear water and drew it out quickly, to see whether it was written in plume-alum.
And realizing that he had found out nothing, he called over the messenger and said:
‘My good fellow: did the lady who sent you here not give you a staff to bring?’ (He was thinking of the secret method explained by Aulus Gellius.)
The messenger replied, ‘No, Sir.’
At which Panurge wanted to shave off the man’s hair to find out whether the lady had caused what she wished to say to be written in jet-black ink upon his shaven scalp; but when he saw how long the man’s locks were, he gave up the idea, considering that no hair could have grown so long in so short a space.
After that he said to Pantagruel:
‘Master, by God’s might, I don’t know what to do or say. To find out whether anything was written here I have employed a part of what is set out by Messer Francesco di Nianto of Tuscany, who wrote on ways of reading invisible writing, and what Zoroaster wrote in his work On Hidden Writing, and what Calphurnius Bassus wrote in On Writings Unreadable.
‘But I can see nothing there. All we have here, I believe, is that ring. Nothing more. Let’s look at it.’
On examining it they found LAMAH HAZABTHANI written round the inside in Hebrew. So they called Epistemon over and asked him what it meant. To which he replied that it was a Hebrew phrase, meaning Why hast thou forsaken me?
Panurge immediately rejoined:
‘I can understand it now! See this diamond? It’s a false diamond – a diamant faux – hence the explanation of what the lady means: “Say, lover false” – Di amant faux – Why hast thou forsaken me?’
And indeed, one hour later, there arose the wind we call a Nor’-nor’-Wester, to which they offered all their canvas and set out on the high seas; in a few short days they passed by Porto Santo and Madeira and touched at the Canary Islands.
From there, having sailed past Capo Bianco, Senegal, Capo Verde, the Gambia, Sagres, Melli and the Cape of Good Hope, they called at the port of the kingdom of Melinda.
From there, filling their sails with a Tramontane wind, they got under way, sailing past Meden, Uti, Uden, Gelasim, and the Faërie Islands off the kingdom of Achoria, finally touching land at the harbour of Achoria, which is a trifle more than three leagues from the city of the Amaurots. Once they were ashore and a little refreshed, Pantagruel said:
‘Lads, the city is not far from here. Before going any further it would be good to settle what we ought to do, so as not to be like the Athenians who never deliberated until after the deed was done! Are you not determined to live and die with me?’
‘Yes, my Lord,’ they all replied. ‘You can rely on us as on the fingers of your own hand.’
‘Still,’ he said, ‘there is only one detail which keeps me doubtful and undecided: I have no idea of the disposition or number of the enemy who are holding our city under siege. For I would act with greater assurance if I could learn that. So let us discuss together a means of finding that out.’
They all replied in unison:
‘Allow us to go and look. You wait here. We shall bring you definite intelligence throughout the day.’
‘I,’ said Panurge, ‘undertake to go right into their camp through the midst of their guards and their look-outs, to feast [and use my weapon] at their expense, and, recognized by no one, to review their artillery and the tents of all their captains, and to parade like a prelate through their troops without being rumbled: the devil himself could never catch me out, for I am of the lineage of Zopyrus!’
‘I,’ said Epistemon, ‘know all the stratagems and exploits of the valiant captains and heroes of bygone days, as well as all the feints and subterfuges of the art of war. I will go; and even if I were discovered and unmasked, I would extricate myself by making them believe anything about you I liked. For I am of the lineage of Sinon.
‘I,’ said Eusthenes, ‘in spite of their sentinels and all their guards, will go across their trenches, and, even if they were as strong as the devil, I shall pass over their bellies, snapping off their arms and legs. For I am of the lineage of Hercules.’
‘And as for me,’ said Carpalim, ‘if birds can get in, then so shall I, for I am so nimble of body that I shall have vaulted over their trenches and driven through their camp before they have noticed me. I dread no dart nor arrow, nor steed however swift, be it the Pegasus of Perseus or the steed of Pacolet, from any fear of not escaping safe and sound before them. I undertake to tread over the ears of corn and the grass in the meadows without their bending beneath me.
‘For I am of the lineage of Camilla, the Amazon.’
How Panurge, Carpalim, Eusthenes and Epistemon, the companions of Pantagruel, most cleverly discomfited six hundred and sixty knights
CHAPTER 16
[This later becomes Chapter 25.
A romp with comic chivalry crossed with mariners’ tales.]
As he was speaking they descried six hundred and sixty knights, well mounted on light horses, who came galloping along to see what vessel it was which had just drawn alongside in the harbour, charging at full tilt to take them if they could.
Pantagruel then said, ‘Now, boys, withdraw aboard ship, for some of our foes are charging up at full speed but I shall slaughter them like cattle were they ten times as many. Mean-while withdraw and enjoy the fun!’
Panurge then replied:
‘No, my Lord, it is not reasonable for you to act thus. On the contrary, you go back aboard – both you and the others – for I alone shall discomfit them here. But there must be no delay. Jump to it.’
Others added:
‘Well said! Withdraw, my Lord, and we shall lend Panurge here a hand and you will soon learn what we are capable of.’
Pantagruel then said:
‘I am happy to do so, but if you should prove the weaker I will not fail you.’
Panurge hauled forthwith upon two of the ship’s great cables, made them fast to a windlass on the deck, cast them ashore and formed them into two big loops, one inside the other.
Then he said to Epistemon:
‘Go aboard, and when I shout, wind hard that windlass [upon the deck], drawing these two cables towards you.’
He then said to Eusthenes and Carpalim:
‘You wait here, boys. Greet the enemy frankly; do what they say and pretend to surrender. But take care never to step inside the circle formed by those cables. Withdraw, but stay outside.’
He then promptly went down into the hold, grabbed a bale of straw and a barrel of gunpowder and scattered them about inside the circle formed by the cables. He then stood by, holding an incendiary-grenade.
All of a sudden a great force of knights arrived, the vanguard charging up close by the ship: the embankment gave way and the men and horses came tumbling down to the number of four and forty. Seeing which, the other knights thought that they had been resisted on reaching the shore, so they closed in.
But Panurge said to them:
‘Gentlemen, I believe you have brought some harm on yourselves. We are sorry, but it was none of our doing: it was because of the lubricity of the sea-water – sea-water is always a lubricant – and we entrust ourselves to your good pleasure.’
His two companions said the same, as did Epistemon on deck.
Panurge meanwhile drew back and, noting that those men were within the circle of ropes and that his two companions had drawn back to clear a space for all the knights, who, crowding forward to see the ship, were now all inside, suddenly yelled out to Epistemon, ‘Heave! Heave!’ Epistemon then started to haul in on the windlass, and the two cables entwined themselves amongst the horses, easily bringing them down with their riders. But those riders drew their swords and tried to cut themselves loose: Panurge proceeded to set fire to the train of powder and burnt them all up like souls in Hell.
Of horse and man, not one got free, save for one single knight on a Turkish steed, which bolted and bore him off.
But when Carpalim saw it he ran after him with such speed and agility that he caught up with him in less than a hundred paces and, vaulting on to the crupper, seized him from behind and carried him off to the ship. The discomfiture accomplished, Pantagruel was very jolly, highly praising the ingenuity of his companions; he made them rest and eat a good meal on the shore, pledging drink for drink with their guts to the ground. The prisoner was treated like one of the family, except that the poor devil was never certain that Pantagruel would not devour him, something which, with his capacious throat, he could have done as easily as you could do with a grain of stomach-powder, for in his mouth he amounted to no more than a grain of millet in the gullet of an ass.
*
[A new chapter begins here in ‘42: How Pantagruel and his companions grew tired of eating salt meats, and how Carpalim went off hunting for venison. Chapter 26.
Vinaigre in Rabelais means vinegar and also piqué (wine which has turned sour and also used for macerating), as well as wine for current drinking.
The name of the chief of the giants, Loup Garou, means Were-wolf.
Two numbers are changed: ‘three thousand four hundred’ me
n at arms become ‘eleven thousand and four’, and ‘four hundred and fifty thousand strumpets’ become a mere ‘hundred and fifty thousand’.
‘Saint Quimlet’ renders Saint Quenet, a Breton saint whose name suggests such a pun.]
While they were feasting, Carpalim said,
‘By the guts of Saint Quimlet, shall we never eat venison? This salt meat makes me all of a thirst. I’m off to get a thigh from one of those horses we burnt: it’ll be well enough roasted.’
Just as he stood up to do so, he caught sight of a handsome great roe-buck at the edge of the forest: it had in my opinion come out of the woods at the sight of Panurge’s fire. He at once started to race after it with such a thrust that he seemed like the bolt of a crossbow, and, as he ran, in less than no time he [had caught with his hands four great bustards, seven bitterns, twenty-six grey partridges, thirty-two red ones, sixteen pheasants, nine woodcocks, nineteen herons and thirty-two wood-pigeons, all in flight, and] killed with his feet some ten or twelve leverets and conies, all but grown out of puberty [, plus eighteen braces of water-rails, fifteen young wild-boars, two badgers and three huge foxes]. So, striking the roe-buck across its head with his short cutting-sword, he killed it and, as he bore it off, he gathered up his leverets [water-rails and young wild-boars] and called from as far as his voice could be heard, ‘Panurge, my friend, vinaigre! vinaigre!’
At which Pantagruel thought that it was his heart that was troubling him and commanded that vinaigre be brought out for him, but Panurge clearly understood that there was a leveret on the hook. Indeed he pointed out to our noble Pantagruel that Carpalim had a fine roe-buck slung across his shoulders and that his belt was all hung about with leverets.
Epistemon quickly prepared two handsome wooden spits in the antique style.96
Eusthenes helped him with the skinning while Panurge took two saddles which had belonged to the knights and arranged them to serve as andirons.