Francois Rabelais was born at Seuillé in Touraine, France,
about 1483. Brought up in a Franciscan convent, he was made a
priest in 1520. During his monastic career he conceived a deep
and lasting contempt for monkish life, and he obtained
permission from the Pope to become a secular priest. He then
studied medicine, and became a physician. After wandering
about France for many years, he was appointed parish priest of
Meudon in 1551, and he died at Paris in 1553. "The Great and
Inestimable Chronicles of the Grand and Enormous Giant
Gargantua" ("Les Grandes et Inestimables Chroniques du Grande
et Enorme Géant Gargantua"), and its sequel, "Pantagruel,"
appeared between 1533 and 1564. Had these appeared during
Rabelais' life, his career would probably have been shorter
than it was, for the work is, with all its humour, a very
bitter satire against both the Roman Church and the
Calvinistic. Rabelais is one of the very great French writers
and humourists whose work is closely connected with English
literature. But what he borrowed from Sir Thomas More, he
generously repaid to Shakespeare, Swift, and Sterne. The
famous Abbey of Thelema is inspired by More's "Utopia"; on the
other hand, Shakespeare's praise of debt is taken from the
speech of Panurge--the most humorous character in French
literature, and worthy to stand beside Falstaff.
_I.--The Very Horrific Life of the Great Gargantua_
Grangousier was a right merry fellow in his time, and he had as great a
love as any man living in the world for neat wine and salt meat. When he
came to man's estate he married Gargamelle, daughter to the king of the
Parpaillons, a jolly wench and good looking, who died in giving birth to
a son.
They had gone out with their neighbours in a hurl to Willow Grove, and
there on the thick grass they danced so gallantly that it was a heavenly
sport to see them so frolic. Then began flagons to go, gammons to trot,
goblets to fly, and glasses to rattle. "Draw, reach, fill, mix. Give it
to me--without water; so my friend. Whip me off this bowl gallantly.
Bring me some claret, a full glass running over. A truce to thirst! By
my faith, gossip, I cannot get in a drinking humour! Have you caught a
cold, gammer? Let's talk of drinking. Which was first, thirst or
drinking? Thirst, for who would have drunk without thirst in the time of
innocence? I do, as I am a sinner. I drink to prevent thirst. I drink
for the thirst to come. Let's have a song, a catch; let us sing a round.
Drink for ever, and you shall never die! When I am not drinking I am as
good as dead. Drink, or I'll--The appetite comes with eating and the
thirst goes with drinking. Nature abhors a vacuum. Swallow it down, it
is wholesome medicine!"
It was at this moment that Gargantua was born. He did not whimper as the
other babes used to do, but with a high, sturdy, and big voice, he
shouted out, "Drink, drink, drink!" The sound was so extremely great
that it rang over two counties. I am afraid that you do not thoroughly
believe in the truth of this strange nativity. Believe it or not, I do
not care. But an honest man, a man of good sense, always believes what
is told him, and what he finds written.
When the good man Grangousier, who was then merrily drinking with his
guests, heard his son roar out for drink, he said to him in French, "Que
Grand Tu As et souple le gousier!" That is to say, "How great and nimble
a throat thou hast." Hearing this, the company said that the child
verily ought to be called Gargantua, because it was the first word
uttered by his father at his birth. Which the father graciously
permitted, and to calm the child they gave him enough drink to crack his
throat, and then carried him to the font where he was christened
according to the manner of good Christians.
So great was Gargantua, even when a babe of a day old, that seventeen
thousand nine hundred and thirteen cows were required to furnish him
with milk. By the ancient records to be seen in the chamber of accounts
at Montsoreau, I find that nine thousand six hundred ells of blue velvet
were used for his gown, four hundred and six ells of crimson velvet were
taken up for his shoes, which were soled with the hides of eleven
hundred brown cows; and the rest of his costume was in proportion. By
the commandment of his father, Gargantua was brought up and instructed
in all convenient discipline, and he spent his time like the other
children of the country--that is, in drinking, eating, and sleeping; in
eating, sleeping, and drinking; and in sleeping, drinking, and eating.
In his youth he studied hard under a very learned man, called Master
Tubal Holofermes, and, after studying with him for five years and three
months, he learnt so much that he was able to say the alphabet
backwards. About this time, the king of Numidia sent out of the country
of Africa to Grangousier, the hugest and most enormous mare that was
ever seen. She was as large as six elephants, and of a burnt sorrel
colour with dapple grey spots; but, above all, she had a horrible tail.
For it was little more or less as great as the pillar of St. Mars,
which, as you know, is eighty-six feet in height.
When Grangousier saw her, he said, "Here is the very thing to carry my
son to Paris. He shall go there and learn what the study of the young
men of France is, and in time to come he shall be a great scholar!"
The next morning, after, of course, drinking, Gargantua set out on his
journey. He passed his time merrily along the highway, until he came a
little above Orleans, in which place there was a forest five-and-thirty
leagues long and seventeen wide. This forest was most horribly fertile
and abundant in gadflies and hornets, so that it was a very purgatory
for asses and horses. But Gargantua's mare handsomely avenged all the
outrages committed upon beasts of her kind. For as soon as she entered
the forest, and the hornets gave the attack, she drew out her tail and
swished it about, and swept down all the trees with as much ease as a
mower cuts grass. And since then there has been neither a forest nor a
hornet's nest in that place, for all the country was thereby reduced to
pasture land.
At last Gargantua came to Paris, and inquired what wine they drank
there, and what learning was to be had. Everybody in Paris looked upon
him with great admiration. For the people of this city are by nature so
sottish, idle, and good-for-nothing, that a mountebank, a pardoner come
from Rome to sell indulgences, or a fiddler in the crossways, will
attract together more of them than a good preacher of the Gospel. So
troublesome were they in pursuing Gargantua, that he was compelled to
seek a resting-place on the towers of Notre Dame. There he amused
himself by ringing the great bells, and it came into his mind that they
would serve as cowbells to hang on the neck of his mare, so he carried
them off to his lodging.
At this all the people of Paris rose up in sedition. They are, as you
know, so ready to uproars and insurrections, that foreign nations wonder
at the stupidity of the kings of France at not restraining them from
such tumultuous courses, seeing the manifold inconveniences which thence
arise from day to day. Believe for a truth, that the place where the
people gathered together was called Nesle; there, after the case was
proposed and argued, they resolved to send the oldest and most able of
their learned men unto Gargantua to explain to him the great and
horrible prejudice they sustained by the want of their bells. Thereupon
Gargantua put up the bells again in their place, and in acknowledgement
of his courtesy, the citizens offered to maintain and feed his mare as
long as he pleased. And they sent her to graze in the forest of Biére,
but I do not think she is there now.
For some years Gargantua studied at Paris under a wise and able master,
and grew expert in manly sports of all kinds, as well as in learning of
every sort. Then he was called upon to return to his country to take
part in a great and horrible war.
_II.--The Marvellous Deeds of Friar John_
The war began in this way: At the time of the vintage, the shepherds of
Grangousier's country were set to guard the vines and hinder the
starlings from eating the grapes. Seeing some cake-bakers of Lerné
passing down the highway with ten or twelve loads of cakes, the
shepherds courteously asked them to sell some of their wares at the
market price. The cake-bakers, however, were in no way inclinable to the
request of the shepherds; and, what is worse, they insulted them hugely,
calling them babblers, broken-mouths, carrot-pates, tunbellies,
fly-catchers, sneakbies, joltheads, slabberdegullion druggels, and other
defamatory epithets. And when one honest shepherd came forward with the
money to buy some of the cakes, a rude cake-baker struck him a rude lash
with a whip. Thereupon some farmers and their men, who were watching
their walnuts close by, ran up with their great poles and long staves,
and thrashed the cake-bakers as if they had been green rye.
When they were returned to Lerné, the cake-makers complained to their
king, Picrochole, saying that all the mischief was done by the shepherds
of Grangousier. Picrochole incontinently grew angry and furious, and
without making any further question, he had it cried throughout his
country that every man, under pain of hanging, should assemble in arms
at noon before his castle. Thereupon, without order or measure, his men
took the field, ravaging and wasting everything wherever they passed
through. All that they said to any man that cried them mercy, was: "We
will teach you to eat cakes!"
Having pillaged the town of Seuillé, they went on with the horrible
tumult to an abbey. Finding it well barred and made fast, seven
companies of foot and two hundred lances broke down the walls of the
close, and began to lay waste the vineyard. The poor devils of monks did
not know to what saint to pray in their extremity, and they made
processions and said litanies against their foes. But in the abbey at
that time was a cloister-monk named Friar John of the Trenchermen,
young, gallant, frisky, lusty, nimble, quick, active, bold, resolute,
tall, wide-mouthed, and long-nosed; a fine mumbler of matins, a fair
runner through masses, and a great scourer of vigils--to put it short, a
true monk, if ever there was one since the monking world monked a
monkery. This monk, hearing the noise that the enemy made in the
vineyard, went to see what they were doing, and perceiving that they
were gathering the grapes out of which next year's drink of the abbey
ought to be made, he grew mighty angry. "The devil take me," he cried,
"if they have not already chopped our vines so that we shall have no
drink for years to come! Did not St. Thomas of England die for the goods
of the church? If I died in the same cause should I not be a saint
likewise? However, I shall not die for them, but make other men to do
so."
Throwing off his monk's habit, he took up a cross made out of a sour
apple-tree, which was as long as a lance, and with it he laid on lustily
upon his enemies. He scattered the brains of some, and the legs and arms
of others. He broke their necks; he had off their heads; he smashed
their bones; he caved in their ribs; he impaled them, and he transfixed
them. Believe me, it was a most horrible spectacle that ever man saw.
Some died without speaking, others spoke without dying; some died while
they were speaking, others spoke while they were dying. So great was the
cry of the wounded, that the prior and all his monks came forth, and
seeing the poor wretches hurt to death, began to confess them. But when
those who had been shriven tried to depart, Friar John felled them with
a terrible blow, saying, "These men have had confession and are
repentant, so straight they go into Paradise!"
Thus by his prowess and valour were discomfited all those of the army,
under the number of thirteen thousand six hundred and twenty-two, that
entered the abbey close. Gargantua, who had come from Paris to help his
father against Picrochole, heard of the marvellous feats of Friar John,
and sought his aid, and by means of it utterly defeated the enemy. What
became of Picrochole after his defeat I cannot say with certainty, but I
was told that he is now a porter at Lyons. He always inquires of all
strangers on the coming of the Cocquecigrues, for an old woman has
prophesied that at their coming he shall be re-established in his
kingdom.
_III.--The Abbey of Thelema_
Gargantua was mightily pleased with Friar John, and he wanted to make
him abbot of several abbeys in his country. But the monk said he would
never take upon him the government of monks. "Give me leave," he said,
"to found an abbey after my own fancy." The notion pleased Gargantua,
who thereupon offered him all the country of Thelema by the river of
Loire. Friar John then asked Gargantua to institute his religious order
contrary to all others. At that time they placed no women into nunneries
save those who were ugly, ill-made, foolish, humpbacked, or corrupt; nor
put any men into monasteries save those that were sickly, ill-born,
simple-witted, and a burden to their family. Therefore, it was ordained
that into this abbey of Thelema should be admitted no women that were
not beautiful and of a sweet disposition, and no men that were not
handsome, well-made, and well-conditioned. And because both men and
women that are received into religious orders are constrained to stay
there all the days of their lives, it was therefore laid down that all
men and women admitted to Thelema should have leave to depart whenever
it seemed good to them. And because monks and nuns made three vows of
poverty, chastity, and obedience, it was appointed that those who
entered into the new order might be rich and honourably married and live
at liberty.
For the building of the abbey Gargantua gave twenty-seven hundred
thousand eight hundred and thirty-one long-wooled sheep; and for the
maintenance thereof he gave an annual fee-farm rent of twenty-three
hundred and sixty-nine thousand five hundred and fourteen rose nobles.
In the building were nine thousand three hundred and thirty-two
apartments, each furnished with an inner chamber, a cabinet, a wardrobe,
a chapel, and an opening into a great hall. The abbey also contained
fine great libraries and spacious picture galleries.
All the life of the Thelemites was laid out, not by laws and rules, but
according to their own free will and pleasure. They rose from their beds
when it seemed good to them; they drank, worked, ate, slept, when the
wish came upon them. No one constrained them in anything, for so had
Gargantua established it. Their rule consisted of this one clause: