Gargantua and Pantagruel

by François Rabelais

  That I would fain unfrockèd be

  Than trapped within the drudgery

  Of single-wife matrimony.

  Sela! Despoiled of liberty,

  Enslaved to female ne’er I’ll be!

  Why! not to Alexander’s paw

  Nor Caesar, nor his son-in-law,

  Nor to the grandest knight in all this world.’

  Panurge, casting off his over-smock and all his mystical paraphernalia, made reply:

  ‘So beastly fellow, you’ll be curled

  In coiled damnation like a snake,

  Whilst I, on harp, shall music make,

  Happy, and saved in Paradise,

  From whence I’ll piss on you, once, twice,

  The worst whoremonger that I know.

  You’ll be a devil there below

  If, as seems likely to us all,

  Dame Proserpine has you in thrall,

  Pricked on by prick in codpiece hidden,

  And ever by your manhood smitten

  And by your known Paternity

  When you find opportunity

  To say sweet nothings; and that said,

  To clamber on her in her bed;

  And send to fetch you when you dine,

  The very best of hellish wine.

  Old Lucifer will bring it you.

  Then you and she’ll know what to do:

  She never could refuse a Frère.

  And she is nice with lovely hair.’

  ‘Go to the devil, you silly old fool,’ said Frère Jean. ‘I can rhyme no more: I have rime in the throat. Let us satisfy them hereabouts.’

  How, having taken congee of Bacbuc, they quit the Oracle of La Bouteille

  CHAPTER 47

  [The description of God as the Intellectual Sphere derives from Hermes Trismegistus. It figures in Chapter 13 of the Third Book.

  Ceres’ daughter is Proserpine, who was ravished by Pluto, the Ruler of the Underworld; Pluto’s name was derived by Plato in the Cratylus from plutos, rich. Truth lies hidden: wise men seek it.]

  ‘You need not worry about that,’ replied Bacbuc. ‘Everything will be achieved as long as you are satisfied with us. Here, in the environs of these central regions, we firmly place the Supreme Good not in getting and receiving but in giving and distributing: we count ourselves blessèd not if we take or obtain much from others (as the sects of your world erroneously decree) but if we can ever give and dispense much to others. Only one thing I do ask: that you have your names and addresses written here in this book of ritual.’

  She then opened a big and beautiful book in which one of her mystagogues traced a number of marks at our dictation; and although she seemed to have been writing, nothing was apparent to us.

  Once that was done, she filled three leathern bottles with phantasy-water and personally handed them to us, saying:

  ‘Go now, my friends, under the protection of that Intellectual Sphere, whose centre is everywhere and whose circumference nowhere, whom we call God. And once you have come to your world, bear witness that great treasures and wonders lie under the earth: Ceres (who was already hallowed throughout the whole world because she had revealed and taught the art of agriculture and, through the discovery of corn, had abolished the brutish eating of acorns from amongst men) not without cause so greatly lamented the ravishing of her daughter to our regions below-ground, foreseeing with certainty that she would find more good things, more excellent things, there than her mother had ever brought forth above-ground.

  ‘What has become of the art of summoning thunder and fire down from the heavens? Discovered of old by Prometheus, you have certainly lost it: it has abandoned your hemisphere and is practised here below. And you are wrong to be dumbfounded when, from time to time, you see cities set ablaze by lightning and burning with fire from the ethereal heights, since you do not know by whom, through whom and whence comes that which is for you an awesome prodigy but for us something everyday and useful. Those philosophers of yours who lament that everything has already been written by the Ancients and that nothing is left to discover are plainly wrong. Those phenomena (as you call them) which appear in the sky, those things which the earth exhibits to you, as well as everything that the seas and the rivers too contain, cannot be compared with what lies hidden below the ground. That is why the Ruler of the subterranean realms is rightly called in virtually all languages by a term descriptive of riches.

  ‘But when will those philosophers of yours devote their study and labour to seeking through their entreaties that sovereign God whom the Egyptians of old called in their own tongue the Hidden One, the Concealed One, the Veiled One, invoking him by such a name and beseeching him to reveal and manifest to them himself and his creation? They were guided also by a good Lantern, for all the sages and philosophers of old deemed two things requisite for following surely and pleasantly the way leading to knowledge of the divine and the quest for wisdom: the guidance of God and the companionship of Man. Thus did Zoroaster, amongst the philosophers, take Arimaspes as a comrade on his wanderings; Aesculapius, Mercury; Orpheus, Museus; Pythagoras, Aglaophemus. And amongst the princes and warriors Hercules was accompanied in his most arduous enterprises by his dearest friend Theseus; Ulysses, by Diomedes; Aeneas, by Achates. You too have done as much by taking that shining Lady Lantern for your guide. And now go on your way, in the name of God and under his guidance.’

  The end of the Fifth Book of the heroic deeds and sayings of noble Pantagruel.

  Epigram

  [‘Epigram’ is sometimes used with the sense of an inscription (as on a statue). NATVRE QVITE is an anagram of JEAN TVRQVET (that is, of Jean Turquet). The Turquets were a pious French-speaking Piedmontese family, at least one of whose members came to England as a physician, possibly as a refugee after the massacre of Saint Bartholomew’s Day.]

  Rabelais: is he dead? Another book here take!

  No. Look: his better part has claimed back his own mind,

  Presenting to us here a work and you will find

  Immortal and alive it will him ever make.

  NATVRE QVITE

  APPENDIX 1: THE ENDING AS FOUND IN THE MANUSCRIPT

  [The manuscript ending is fuller, and is given here for convenience rather than in the smaller print of a footnote.

  Gaps in the text are shown thus: […].

  See Erasmus, Adages, III, V, XVII, ‘Time reveals all things’, and II, XL, XXXIV, ‘About the lion from its claws’.

  There is a quotation from Psalm 42:9: ‘Deep calling unto deep’.]

  ‘And so too, amongst the Persians, Zoroaster took Arimaspes as his comrade during the whole of his quest for mystical truth; amongst the Egyptians, Hermes Trismegistus took […]; Aesculapeus took […]; Orpheus in Thrace took Musaeus; there too Aglaophemus took Pythagoras; amongst the Athenians, Plato first took Dion of Syracuse in Sicily, and then, after his death, Xenocrates; and Apollonius took Damis.

  ‘So when your philosophers, guided by God and accompanied by some clear-shining Lantern, devote themselves to careful research and investigations (as is natural to human beings, for which characteristic Herodotus and Homer are called in Greek alphestai, that is to say seekers and discoverers), they will find to be true the reply given to Amasis, the king of the Egyptians by the wise Thales: when asked wherein wisdom does most consist, he replied, In Time, for all things hidden have been and will be uncovered by Time. That is why the Ancients gave to Saturn the names of Time, and Father of Truth, whilst the daughter of Time was herself called Truth. And they will find without fail that all the knowledge acquired by them and their forebears is hardly the tiniest part of all that is, and what they do not know. From the three leathern wine-skins which now I give you, you will form your judgement, learning, as the adage puts it, About the lion from its claws. By the rarefaction of this water of ours which is enclosed therein, and through the intervention of the heat of the heavenly bodies and the fever-heat of the salt sea following the natural transmuting of the elements, there will be engend
ered therein the healthiest of airs for you, which will serve you as clear, serene and delightful breezes, for the winds are nothing but floating and undulating air. By means of that wind you will (without setting foot on land if you so desire) be wafted straight to the port of Les Sables d’Olonne in Talmondais, by allowing there to blow through your sails (from this little golden mouthpiece which you can see fixed here as on a flute) enough air as you deem necessary for sailing gently, always pleasantly and safely, without hazard or tempest.

  ‘Do not doubt this. Never think that tempests arise and proceed from wind: it is the wind that comes from the tempests as they sally forth from the depths of the Abyss. Never think that rain comes from any weakness in the retentive powers of the heavens and from the weight of the suspended clouds: rain comes when called down by the subterranean regions, just as it had been called from below by the bodies high above. The kingly prophet bears witness to that, when he sang the verse, Deep calleth unto deep.

  ‘Two of the three wine-skins are full of the water which I told you of; the third is drawn from the well of the Indian sages which is termed the Cask of the Brahmins. In addition you will find your ships well and duly provided with everything which might prove requisite or useful for the needs of your crew. While you were sojourning here I have had all that very properly seen to.’

  Having spoken, she gave us a letter, closed and sealed. After we returned undying thanks, she sent us out by a gate near the chapel, where Bacbuc told us to pose questions twice as tall as Mount Olympus. So, via a land full of all delights, more pleasant and mild than Tempe in Thessaly, more healthy than the part of Egypt facing Libya, more watered and verdant than Themischyra, more fertile than where Mount Taurus faces north or than the Hyperborean Mountains in the Judaic Sea, as fragrant, serene and gracious as Touraine, we found at last our ships in harbour.

  APPENDIX 2: CHAPTER 16 BIS FOUND IN THE ISLE SONANTE

  How Pantagruel arrived at the Isle of the long-fingered and crooked-handed Apedeftes, and of the terrifying adventures and monsters he encountered there

  Chapter 16 Bis

  [This chapter is conventionally numbered 16 bis. It is found only in the Isle Sonante, where it forms the conclusion.

  The theme is probably a satire of the French Royal Exchequer (the Chambre des Comptes).

  The ‘Apedeftes’ are the Untutored, the Uncouth.

  The winepress is a common symbol of torture and oppression.

  ‘Get-a-lot’ renders Gaignebeaucoup.]

  As soon as the anchors were dropped and the vessel securely moored, the skiff was lowered. As soon as our good Pantagruel had offered up prayers and given thanks to God for having saved him in so great a peril, he boarded the skiff with his men so as to go ashore, which proved very easy since, the sea being calm and the winds having dropped, they had soon reached some cliffs. Once they were ashore, Epistemon, who was gazing with wonder at the site and the strangeness of the rocks, noticed several of the dwellers in that land. The first of them whom he spoke to was clad in a fairly short robe of royal hue and a doublet with worsted panels, satin cuffs and chamois-leather sleeves; he wore a proud Spanish cap and had quite an allure. We later learnt his name was Get-a-lot; he told Epistemon, who asked him what they called those strange cliffs and valleys, that they were a colony called Ledgers, detached from the land of Procuration, and that beyond those Ledgers, after crossing over a little ford, we would find the land of the Apedeftes.

  ‘By the power of the Extravagantes!’ said Frère Jean, ‘What do you live on here, good people? May we have a drink from your glass, since I can see no equipment here save parchments, inkhorns and feather-pens?’

  ‘And that,’ said Get-a-lot, ‘is just what we live on: everyone who has business on this island has to pass through our hands.’

  ‘Why?’ said Panurge, ‘Are you barbers. Do they have to be shorn?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Get-a-lot, ‘shorn of the testoons in their purses.’

  ‘By God,’ said Panurge, ‘you shan’t get a penny or a farthing from me. But I pray you, good sir, do take us to those Apedeftes, for we come from the Land of the Learned, where frankly I’ve never profited much.’

  Thus chatting they arrived at the Isle of the Apedeftes, for the water was soon forded. Pantagruel was moved to marvel greatly at the architecture of the home and habitation of the locals, since they dwell in a huge winepress which they reach by climbing up some fifty steps. Before entering the master press – for in this land there are all kinds of presses, little ones, big ones, secret ones and middling ones – you pass through a great peristyle with landscape paintings portraying the ruin of almost everybody: so many gibbets for great robbers, and so many gallows and racks, that it strikes fear into you. Get-a-lot, noting that Pantagruel was lingering over it, said, ‘My Lord, let us get on. This is nothing.’

  ‘What!’ said Frère Jean. ‘Nothing! By the soul of my excited codpiece, Panurge and I are famished and trembling. I would rather have a drink than look upon the ruination of so many.’

  ‘Come along,’ said Get-a-lot.

  He then brought us to a little winepress which was hidden away to the rear. In their island tongue they called it pithies. 46

  Do not ask if Frère Jean looked after himself there. And Panurge too. For Milanese sausages, turkeys, capons, bustards, malmsey and all good viands were there, ready and beautifully prepared. A squat butler who noticed that Frere Jean was casting amorous glances at a bottle standing near the sideboard apart from the troupe of bottles, said to Pantagruel:

  ‘My Lord, I see that one of your men is ogling that bottle. I beg you not to touch it, since it is for My Lords.’

  ‘How come?’ said Panurge, ‘Are there lords of the harvest in here? There’s a vendange under way, I suppose.’

  Whereupon Get-a-lot made us climb a little private staircase and enter a room, from which he showed us My Lords within that master winepress (which no one is permitted to enter without their permission, but whom we could easily see through a little loophole without their seeing us).

  Once there, we saw in that winepress some twenty to twenty-five pieces of gallows-fodder around a big hangman’s table covered with green beize; they were all watching each other, their hands as long as the legs of a crane and their nails at least two foot in length (for they are forbidden ever to clip them, with the result that they become like the claws of barbed lances or boat-hooks). Just then there was brought in a great bunch of the grapes which grow in the vineyards thereabouts from a stock called Taxes Extraordinary, which often weigh down their vine-props. As soon as that bunch arrived they put it into the press: there was not so much as a seed from which they did not extract some juice-of-gold, with the result that the wretched bunch was borne away squeezed as dry and as shrivelled up as anything in this world. Get-a-lot then told us that they seldom have bunches as large as that one, but they always have others in the vine-press.

  ‘But my good companion,’ said Panurge, ‘do they have plenty of vine-plants coming on?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Get-a-lot. ‘Plenty. Can you see that little one over there which is being returned to the press? It is of the stock called Tithes. The other day they squeezed it out to the ultimate pressing, but the oil stank of priestly coffers and My Lords gleaned little joy from it.’

  ‘Why then,’ said Pantagruel, ‘are they putting it back into the press?’

  ‘To see,’ said Get-a-lot, ‘whether they have overlooked any juice or receivables in the dry lump.’

  ‘God’s might!’ said Frère Jean, ‘do you call such folk ignorant? The devil if they don’t get oil from a stone.’

  ‘Indeed they do,’ said Get-a-lot. ‘They put châteaux, domains and woodlands into the press and, from them all, squeeze out potable gold.’

  ‘You mean portable gold,’ said Epistemon.

  ‘I said potable gold,’ said Get-a-lot, ‘for they drink many a bottle in here which others may not drink. There are so many vine-plants that nobody knows the number of th
em. Come up here and look down into that walled garden. You can see hundreds of them, simply waiting for their turn to be squeezed. Look. Some are from the public domain, some from the private: fortifications, loans, gifts, sales of positions, inheritances, petty fees, offices, offertories and posts in the Royal Household.’

  ‘And what is that big one over there, surrounded by all those little ones?’

  ‘That,’ said Get-a-lot, ‘is the best vine-plant in all the land, the Exchequer. When they put the squeeze on that plant there is not one of My Lords who does not stink of it for six months.’

  When those Lords had risen, Pantagruel begged Get-a-lot to bring us to the great winepress, which he readily did. As soon as we were inside, Epistemon, who knew all the languages, started to point out to Pantagruel all the devices on the winepress (which was large and beautiful, made according to Get-a-lot from the wood of the Cross): on each part of it was written its name in the language of the country. The screw of the press was called Receipts; the bowl, Expenditure; the shaft, the State; the levers, Accounts-Rendered-but-not-Received; the beams, Tolerated Postponements; the shafts, Annulments; the twin side-beams, Recuperations; the vats, Accrued Value; the juice-channels, Registers; the pressure-vats, Aquittances; the hods, Validations; the carrying-troughs, Ordinances Enforced; the buckets, Empowerments; and the funnel, Quittances.

  ‘By the Queen of the Chidlings!’ said Panurge, ‘all the hieroglyphs of Egypt never came near such jargon. The devil! Such jargon follows suit like the droppings of goats. But why, good fellow, are these people called the Ignorants?’

  ‘Because,’ said Get-a-lot, ‘they are not scholars and must never be so; also because, by their ordinance, there must be no other reason herein but My Lords have said so; My Lords so will it; and My Lords so decree’

  ‘True God!’ said Pantagruel, ‘if they make so much out of the bunches, a branch borne in must be worth an oath sworn in.’