Of the Coming of the Coqcigrues.
Master,--In the Boreal and Septentrional lands, turned aside from the
noonday and the sun, there dwelt of old (as thou knowest, and as Olaus
voucheth) a race of men, brave, strong, nimble, and adventurous, who had
no other care but to fight and drink. There, by reason of the cold (as
Virgil witnesseth), men break wine with axes. To their minds, when once
they were dead and gotten to Valhalla, or the place of their Gods, there
would be no other pleasure but to swig, tipple, drink, and boose till
the coming of that last darkness and Twilight, wherein they, with their
deities, should do battle against the enemies of all mankind; which day
they rather desired than dreaded.
So chanced it also with Pantagruel and Brother John and their company,
after they had once partaken of the secret of the _Dive Bouteille_.
Thereafter they searched no longer; but, abiding at their ease, were
merry, frolic, jolly, gay, glad, and wise; only that they always and
ever did expect the awful Coming of the Coqcigrues. Now concerning the
day of that coming, and the nature of them that should come, they knew
nothing; and for his part Panurge was all the more adread, as Aristotle
testifieth that men (and Panurge above others) most fear that which they
know least. Now it chanced one day, as they sat at meat, with viands
rare, dainty, and precious as ever Apicius dreamed of, that there
fluttered on the air a faint sound as of sermons, speeches, orations,
addresses, discourses, lectures, and the like; whereat Panurge, pricking
up his ears, cried, 'Methinks this wind bloweth from Midlothian,' and so
fell a trembling.
Next, to their aural orifices, and the avenues audient of the brain,
was borne a very melancholy sound as of harmoniums, hymns, organ-pianos,
psalteries, and the like, all playing different airs, in a kind most
hateful to the Muses. Then said Panurge, as well as he might for
the chattering of his teeth: 'May I never drink if here come not the
Coqcigrues!' and this saying and prophecy of his was true and inspired.
But thereon the others began to mock, flout, and gird at Panurge for
his cowardice. 'Here am I!' cried Brother John, 'well-armed and ready
to stand a siege; being entrenched, fortified, hemmed-in and surrounded
with great pasties, huge pieces of salted beef, salads, fricassees,
hams, tongues, pies, and a wilderness of pleasant little tarts, jellies,
pastries, trifles, and fruits of all kinds, and I shall not thirst
while I have good wells, founts, springs, and sources of Bordeaux wine,
Burgundy, wine of the Champagne country, sack and Canary. A fig for thy
Coqcigrues!'
But even as he spoke there ran up suddenly a whole legion, or rather
army, of physicians, each armed with laryngoscopes, stethoscopes,
horoscopes, microscopes, weighing machines, and such other tools,
engines, and arms as they had who, after thy time, persecuted Monsieur
de Pourceaugnac! And they all, rushing on Brother John, cried out to
him, 'Abstain! Abstain!' And one said, 'I have well diagnosed thee,
and thou art in a fair way to have the gout.' 'I never did better in my
days,' said Brother John. 'Away with thy meats and drinks!' they cried.
And one said, 'He must to Royat;' and another, 'Hence with him to Aix;'
and a third, 'Banish him to Wiesbaden;' and a fourth, 'Hale him to
Gastein;' and yet another, 'To Barbouille with him in chains!'
And while others felt his pulse and looked at his tongue, they all wrote
prescriptions for him like men mad. 'For thy eating,' cried he that
seemed to be their leader, 'No soup!' 'No soup!' quoth Brother John; and
those cheeks of his, whereat you might have warmed your two hands in the
winter solstice, grew white as lilies. 'Nay! and no salmon nor any beef
nor mutton! A little chicken by times, but _periculo tuo_! Nor any game,
such as grouse, partridge, pheasant, capercailzie, wild duck; nor any
cheese, nor fruit, nor pastry, nor coffee, nor eau de vie; and avoid all
sweets. No veal, pork, nor made dishes of any kind.' 'Then what may I
eat?' quoth the good Brother, whose valour had oozed out of the soles
of his sandals. 'A little cold bacon at breakfast--no eggs,' quoth the
leader of the strange folk, 'and a slice of toast without butter.' 'And
for thy drink'--('What?' gasped Brother John)--'one dessert-spoonful of
whisky, with a pint of the water of Apollinaris at luncheon and dinner.
No more!' At this Brother John fainted, falling like a great buttress of
a hill, such as Taygetus or Erymanthus.
While they were busy with him, others of the frantic folk had built
great platforms of wood, whereon they all stood and spoke at once, both
men and women. And of these some wore red crosses on their garments,
which meaneth 'Salvation;' and others wore white crosses, with a little
black button of crape, to signify 'Purity;' and others bits of blue to
mean 'Abstinence.' While some of these pursued Panurge others did beset
Pantagruel; asking him very long questions, whereunto he gave but short
answers. Thus they asked:
Have ye Local Option here?--Pan.: What?
May one man drink if his neighbour be not athirst?--Pan.: Yea!
Have ye Free Education?--Pan.: What?