Because men are free, well-born, well-bred, conversant in honest
company, have by nature an instinct and a spur that always prompt them
to virtuous actions and withdraw them from vice; and this they style
honour. When the time was come that any man wished to leave the abbey,
he carried with him one of the ladies who had taken him for her faithful
servant, and they were married together; and if they had formerly lived
together in Thelema in devotion and friendship, still more did they so
continue in wedlock; insomuch that they loved one another to the end of
their lives, as on the first day of their marriage.
_IV.--Pantagruel and Panurge_
At the age of four hundred four score and forty-four years, Gargantua
had a son by his wife, Badebec, daughter of one of the kings of Utopia.
And because in the year that his son was born there was a great drought,
Gargantua gave him the name of Pantagruel; for panta in Greek is as much
as to say all, and gruel in the Arabic language has the same meaning as
thirsty. Moreover, Gargantua foresaw, in the spirit of prophesy, that
Pantagruel would one day be the ruler of the thirsty race, and that if
he lived very long he would arrive at a goodly age.
Like his father, Pantagruel went to Paris to study. There his spirit
among his books was like fire among heather, so indefatigable was it and
ardent. One day as Pantagruel was taking a walk without the city he met
a man of a comely stature and elegant in all the lineaments of his body,
but most pitifully wounded, and clad in tatters and rags.
"Who are you, my friend?" said Pantagruel. "What do you want, and what
is your name?" The man answered him in German, gibberish, Italian,
English, Basque, Lantern-language, Dutch, Spanish, Danish, Hebrew,
Greek, Breton, and Latin.
"Well, well, my friend," replied Pantagruel, when the man had come to an
end, "can you speak French?"
"That I can very well, sir," he replied, "for my name is Panurge, and I
was bred and born in Touraine, which is the garden of France. I have
just come from Turkey, where I was taken prisoner, and my throat is so
parched and my stomach so empty that if you will only put a meal before
me, it will be a fine sight for you to see me walk into it."
Pantagruel had conceived a great affection for the wandering scholar,
and he took him home and set a great store of food before him. Panurge
ate right on until the evening, went to bed as soon as he finished,
slept till dinner time next day, so that he only made three steps and a
jump from bed to table. Panurge was of a middle height, and had a nose
like that of the handle of a razor. He was a very gallant and proper man
in his person, and the greatest thief, drinker, roysterer, and rake in
Paris. With all that, he was the best fellow in the world, and he was
always contriving some mischief or other. Pantagruel, being pleased with
him, gave him the castellany of Salmigondin, which was yearly worth
6,789,106,789 royals of certain rent; besides the uncertain revenue of
cockchafers and snails, amounting one year with another to the value of
2,435,768, or 2,435,769 French crowns of Berry. Sometimes it amounted to
1,234,554,321 seraphs, when it was a good season, and cockchafers and
snails in request; but that was not every year.
The new castellan conducted himself so well and prudently than in less
than fourteen days he wasted all the revenue of his castellany for three
whole years. Yet he did not throw it away in building churches and
founding monasteries, but spent it in a thousand little banquets and
joyful festivals, keeping open house for all good fellows and pretty
girls who came that way.
Pantagruel being advertised of the affair was in no wise offended. He
only took Panurge aside, and sweetly represented to him that if he
continued to live in this manner it would be difficult at any time to
make him rich.
"Rich?" answered Panurge. "Have you undertaken the impossible task to
make me rich? Be prudent, like me, and borrow money beforehand, for you
never know how things will turn out."
"But," said Pantagruel, "when will you be out of debt?"
"The Lord forbid I should ever be out of debt," replied Panurge. "Are
you indebted to somebody? He will pray night and morning that your life
may be blessed, long and prosperous. Fearing to lose his debt, he will
always speak good of you in every company; moreover, he will continually
get new creditors for you, in the hope, that, through them, you will be
able to pay him."
To this Pantagruel answering nothing. Panurge went on with his
discourse, saying: "To think that you should run full tilt at me and
twit me with my debts and creditors! In this one thing only do I esteem
myself worshipful, reverend, and formidable. I have created something
out of nothing--a line of fair and jolly creditors! Imagine how glad I
am when I see myself, every morning, surrounded by them, humble,
fawning, and full of reverence. You ask me when I will be out of debt.
May the good Saint Babolin snatch me, if I have not always held that
debt was the connection and tie between the heavens and the earth; the
only bond of union of the human race; without it the whole progeny of
Adam would soon perish. A world without debts! Everything would be in
disorder. The planets, reckoning they were not indebted to each other,
would thrust themselves out of their sphere. The sun would not lend any
light to the earth. No rain would descend on it, no wind blow there, and
there would be no summer or harvest. Faith, hope, and charity will be
quite banished from such a world; and what would happen to our bodies?
The head would not lend the sight of its eyes to guide the hands and the
feet; the feet would refuse to carry the head, and the hands would leave
off working for it. Life would go out of the body, and the chafing soul
would take its flight after my money.
"On the contrary, I shall be pleased to represent unto your fancy
another world, in which everyone lends and everyone owes. Oh, how great
will be the harmony among mankind! I lose myself in this contemplation.
There will be peace among men; love, affection, fidelity, feastings,
joy, and gladness; gold, silver, and merchandise will trot from hand to
hand. There will be no suits of law, no wars, no strife. All will be
good, all will be fair, all will be just. Believe me, it is a divine
thing to lend, and an heroic virtue to owe. Yet this is not all. We owe
something to posterity."
"What is that?" said Pantagruel.
"The task of creating it," said Panurge. "I have a mind to marry and get
children."
"We must consult the Oracle of the Divine Bottle," exclaimed Pantagruel,
"before you enter on so dangerous an undertaking. Come, let us prepare
for the voyage."
_V.--The Divine Bottle_
Pantagruel knew that the Oracle of the Divine Bottle could only be
reached by a perilous voyage in unknown seas and strange islands. But,
undismayed by this knowledge, he fitted out a great fleet at St. Malo,
and sailed beyond the Cape of Good Hope to Lantern Land. As they were
voyaging along, beyond the desolate land of the Popefigs and the blessed
island of the Papemanes, Pantagruel heard voices in the air, and the
pilot said: "Be not afraid, my lord! We are on the confines of the
frozen sea, where there was a great fight last winter between the
Arimaspians and the Nepheliabetes. The cries of the men, the neighing of
the horses, and all the din of battle froze in the air, and now that the
warm season is come, they are melting into sound."
"Look," said Pantagruel, "here are some that are not yet thawed." And he
threw on deck great handfuls of frozen words, seeming like sugar-plums
of many colours. Panurge warmed some of them in his hands, and they
melted like snow into a barbarous gibberish. Panurge prayed Pantagruel
to give him some more, but Pantagruel told him that to give words was
the part of a lover.
"Sell me some, then," cried Panurge.
"That is the part of a lawyer," said Pantagruel. But he threw three or
four more handfuls of them on the deck, and as they melted all the
noises of the battle rang about the ship.
From this point Pantagruel sailed straight for Lantern Land, and came to
the desired island in which was the Oracle of the Bottle. On the front
of the Doric portal was engraved in fine gold the sentence: "In Wine,
Truth." The noble priestess, Bachuc, led Panurge to the fountain in the
temple, within which was placed the Divine Bottle. After he had danced
round it three Bacchic dances, she threw a magic powder into the
fountain, and its water began to boil violently and Panurge sat upon the
ground and waited for the oracle. First of all a noise like that made by
bees at their birth came from the Divine Bottle, and immediately after
this was heard the word, "Drink!"
The priestess then filled some small leather vessels with this fantastic
water, and gave them to Panurge and Pantagruel, saying: "If you have
observed what is written above the temple gates, you at last know that
truth is hidden in wine. Be yourselves the expounders of your
undertaking, and now go, friends, in the protection of that intellectual
sphere, the centre of which is in all places and the circumference
nowhere, which we call God. What has become of the art of calling down
from heaven, thunder and celestial fire, once invented by the wise
Prometheus? You have certainly lost it. Your philosophers who complain
that all things were written by the ancients, and that nothing is left
for them to invent, are evidently wrong. When they shall give their
labour and study to search out, with prayer to the sovereign God (whom
the Egyptians named the Hidden and Concealed, and invoking Him by that
name, besought Him to manifest and discover Himself to them), He will
grant to them, partly guided by good Lanterns, knowledge of Himself and
His creatures. For all philosophers and ancient sages have considered
two things necessary for the sure and pleasant pursuit of the way of
divine knowledge and choice of wisdom--the goodness of God, and the
company of men.
"Now go, in the name of God, and may He guide you."
* * * * *