No More Learning

11991 (#25) ###########################################

ix
THEODORE ROOSEVELT
CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI
1858-
The Indians of the Northwest (Winning of the West')
Backwoodsmen and Other Early Types (same)
Hope is Like a Harebell
Dream-Land
A Birthday
Remember
After Death
Echo
Song
Rest
BY WILLIAM MORTON PAYNE
DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI
Whitsun Eve
Heaven Overarches
The Heart Knoweth its Own Bitterness
Sudden Light
The Woodspurge
The Sea-Limits
Up-Hill
The Three Enemies
Old and New Year Dit-
ties
Amor Mundi
Life Hidden
BY WILLIAM MORTON PAYNE
JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU
1830-1894
The Blessed Damozel
The Double Betrayal (Rose Mary')
The Second-Sight (The King's Tragedy')
The Card-Dealer
LIVED
BY ÉDOUARD ROD
The Cloud Confines
Song of the Bower
Sonnets from The House of Life': Introductory Sonnet;
Lovesight; Known in Vain; The Hill Summit; The
Choice; Lost Days; A Superscription; On Refusal of
Aid between Nations; For 'A Venetian Pastoral' by
Giorgione, in the Louvre.
Foreword (The Social Contract')
The People (same)
From 'Émile >
1828-1882
On the Uses of Travel (same)
In the Isle of St. Peter (Rêveries')
1712-1778
PAGE
12384
12397
12411
12435
15


## p. 11992 (#26) ###########################################

FRIEDRICH RÜCKERT
The Hour-Glass of Ashes
Amaryllis
Sad Spring (In Memory of
Agnes')
The Sun and the Brook
The Dying Flower
X
Told by a Brahmin
GIOVANNI DOMENICO RUFFINI
The Idyl at a Close ('Dr. Antonio ')
JALAL-AD-DIN RUMI
JOHAN LUDVIG RUNEBERG
JOHN RUSKIN
Nature More than Science
Greediness Punished
The Patriot's Lament
Barbarossa
The Drum
Gone in the Wind
Ensign Stål
The Village Girl (Fänrik
Ståls Sägner')
The Old Man's Return
BY A. V. WILLIAMS JACKSON
The Song of the Reed, or Divine Affections (Masnavi')
The Merchant and the Parrot (same)
The Chinese and Roman Artists; or, the Mirror of the
Heart
LIVED
1788-1866
1807-1881
Counsels
1207-1273
BY WILLIAM MORTON PAYNE
Painting')
The Throne (Stones of Venice')
Description of St. Mark's (same)
1804-1877
The Swan
The Work-Girl
My Life
Idyll
1819-
BY JOHN C. VAN DYKE
On Womanhood (Sesame and Lilies')
The Uses of Ornament ('The Seven Lamps of Architect-
ure')
Landscapes of the Poets (Lectures on Architecture and
Calais Spire (Modern Painters')
The Fribourg District, Switzerland (same)
The Mountain Gloom (same)
Description of Nature (same)
Leaves Motionless (same)
Cloud-Balancings (same)
PAGE
12457
12471
12487
12495
12509


## p. 11993 (#27) ###########################################

xi
WILLIAM CLARK RUSSELL
1844-
A Storm and a Rescue (Wreck of the Grosvenor)
RUSSIAN LYRIC POETRY
LIVED
BY PRINCE SERGE WOLKONSKY
Aleksandr Sergyevich Poushkin (1799-1837): The Black
Shawl; The Rose; To; My Studies; Caucasus;
The Bard; A Monument; Ya Perezhil Svoï Zhelanya;
The Free Life of the Bird; The Angel
Mikhail Yurevich Lermontov (1814-41): The Prisoner; The
Cloud; The Cup of Life; The Angel
M. Y. Nekrassov (1821-77): The Russian Soldier; The
Prophet
Vasili Andreyevich Joukovsky (1783-1852): Happiness in
Slumber; The Coming of Spring; Night
Ivan Ivanovich Kozlov (1779-1840): The Vesper Bells
Fedor Ivanovich Tutchev (1803-73): Spring Waters; Sun-
rise; Evening; The Leaves
Aleksei Stepanovich Homiakoff (1804-1860): Russian Song
Apollon Nikolayvich Maykov (1821-? ): The Easter Kiss;
The Alpine Glacier; The Kiss Refused
Count Aleksei Konstantinovich Tolstoy (1817-75): Believe
It Not; Renewal
Yakov Petrovich Polonsky (1820-? ): On Skobelev
A. Fet (Afanasi Afanasyevich Sheashin) (1820-93): Tryst;
A Russian Scene
Aleksei Nikolaevich Apukhtin (1841-? ): Folk-Songs
Anonymous: Sorrow
PAGE
12563
12583


## p. 11994 (#28) ###########################################

--


## p. 11995 (#29) ###########################################

LIST OF PORTRAITS
IN VOL. XXI
François Rabelais
Jean Racine
Allan Ramsay
Leopold von Ranke
Thomas Buchanan Read
Charles Reade
Ernest Renan
Fritz Reuter
James Ford Rhodes
Samuel Richardson
Jean Paul Richter
James Whitcomb Riley
Anne Thackeray Ritchie
Charles G. D. Roberts
Frederick William Robertson
La Rochefoucauld
Samuel Rogers
Pierre Ronsard
Theodore Roosevelt
Christina Georgina Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Jean Jacques Rousseau
Friedrich Rückert
Johan Ludvig Runeberg
John Ruskin
William Clark Russell
Full page
Full page
Vignette
Vignette
Vignette
Vignette
Full page
Vignette
Vignette
Vignette
Full page
Vignette
Vignette
Vignette
Vignette
Full page
Vignette
Vignette
Vignette
Vignette
Full page
Full page
Vignette
Vignette
Full page
Vignette


## p. 11996 (#30) ###########################################

1
1


## p. 11997 (#31) ###########################################



## p. 11998 (#32) ###########################################


RABELAIS.
Cover
0 Groscl


## p. 11999 (#33) ###########################################

i
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IFA
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1
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1
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14.
11788
Fast,


## p. 12000 (#34) ###########################################



## p. 12001 (#35) ###########################################

12001
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
(1495 ? -1553)
BY HENRY BÉRENGER
T
RANÇOIS RABELAIS was born toward the end of the fifteenth
century in 1483 according to some, in 1495 according to
others. The second hypothesis accords better with most
of the important facts of his life. The chronological legend would
have you believe that he was born the same year as Martin Luther.
While Luther, however, was born in a peasant's hut at Eisleben, in
the shadow of the Gothic towers and the forests of dreamy Germany,
François Rabelais was born in an apothecary's shop or the inn of a
publican, at Chinon, on the banks of the sluggish Loire, among the
songs of drinkers which awoke him in his cradle. At the threshold
of the sixteenth century these two powerful and popular geniuses,
both vowed to the monastic state, still half sheathed in the past,
escape from the convent to create the future.
Rabelais studied first at the convent of Seville; then at the con-
vent of the Franciscans of La Baumette, near Angers, where at first
he was novice. In 1509 he went to finish his novitiate at the convent
of Fontenay-le-Comte, where he became priest about 1519, and lived
until 1523.
Thus his early youth was passed among those rich and
gracious landscapes of Touraine, where Honoré de Balzac also was to
be born, and to grow up three centuries later, with the same exuber-
ant and magnificent talents of reason and imagination as his great
elder and compatriot, François Rabelais.
The first convents in which young Rabelais studied were prisons
rather than refuges. The mendicant monks among whom he dwelt
at La Baumette and at Fontenay-le-Comte were ignorant, sensual,
and superstitious beings, who detested the intellectual life.
It was
in such an environment, however, but secretly, that Rabelais acquired
that passion for study which never quitted him. As long as he
studied only Latin and the old French authors, he was unmolested.
But one day they discovered some Greek books in his cell. This
was a case of heresy. The Greek books were confiscated, and Rabe-
lais was forced to flee in order to escape the stake or the oubliettes.
The Pope. Clement VII. , was more liberal than these monks, and
in 1524 he authorized Rabelais to enter the order of St. Benedict.
XXI-751


## p. 12002 (#36) ###########################################

12002
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
Just at this time he became regular canon of the abbey of Maille-
zais. He remained there only a short time. He then passed to the
secular clergy, and was attached to the household of Guy d'Estissac,
bishop of Maillezais. He seems to have lived there very happily.
Soon afterward the taste for travel seized him. He visited France,
and studied at her chief universities. On the 16th of September, 1530,
we know that he took his first registry at the Faculty of Medicine
of Montpellier. He received all the degrees of that University, and
rapidly achieved a great medical reputation. He was appointed phy-
sician of the great hospital of Lyons in 1532, and exercised that
function until February 1534. During the same period he published
'Gargantua' and the first book of Pantagruel. ' In 1534 he left
Lyons to accompany as physician the bishop of Paris, Jean du Bel-
lay, uncle of Joachim, the celebrated poet of the Pleiade,— who was
sent to Rome as ambassador extraordinary of Francis I. to the Holy
See, from which mission he was to win the cardinal's cap. He
possessed a noble and liberal spirit, and always protected Rabelais
against the rage of his enemies. Rabelais followed him again to
Rome in 1536-1537. Thanks to the protection of the Cardinal du
Bellay, Pope Paul III. granted him absolution for his apostasy (that
is, for his change of costume), and moreover permitted him to be-
come a Benedictine again, and to exercise the profession of medicine.
Strong in these two authorizations, Rabelais took at the Faculty of
Montpellier, where he had been received doctor in 1537, a course
in anatomy. Later he was consulting physician in different cities,-
Narbonne, Castres, and Lyons. His faithful patron, the Cardinal du
Bellay, who was also abbot of St. Maur as well as bishop of Paris,
had him appointed canon of the abbey of St. Maur-les-Fossés. Not
being bound to reside there, he continued to travel. He was in
Poitou; then in his dear native land of Touraine; then again in Pied-
mont with the vice-king Guillaume de Langey (brother of the Cardi-
nal du Bellay), where he continued to act as physician. In 1545 he
obtained from the King, Francis I. , permission to publish the third
book of his work. After the death of the King he was in great
anxiety; for the Cardinal du Bellay was not in favor with the new
King, Henry II. But he found new protectors in the houses of Châ-
tillon and of Lorraine, who recalled him from Metz and from Rome,
where he had gone, in a measure to find refuge. In 1550 he was
allowed to publish his fourth book, which he dedicated to the Cardi-
nal de Châtillon. The same year he was appointed parish priest of
Meudon by Cardinal du Bellay. We do not know whether Rabelais
exercised his priestly functions. Everything indicates that he did,
however, for he possessed a practical spirit desirous of action. But at
the beginning of the year 1552 he resigned his two charges, just as


## p. 12003 (#37) ###########################################

FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
12003
his fourth book appeared. Doubtless he wished to be more independ-
ent, unless he simply quitted these too exacting functions on account
of his health; indeed, he died in 1553. The fifth book of his work,
part of which seems apocryphal, was not published until 1562.
Considering this life as a whole, it appears that of a laborious as
well as daring genius, and of one independent as well as able. Man
of free studies and free pleasures, Rabelais was above all the enemy
of whatever constrained him. Action was life to him. On coming
into the world, he found about him all kinds of fetters: first those
of the convent, then those of the Sorbonne, and later those of Parlia-
ment; finally those of fanatics, both papists and Huguenots. Rabe-
lais never posed as apostle or martyr, but far more as a shrewd and
witty dilettante, whose device, framed by himself, was - Primo vivere,
deinde philosophari. In order to live, he sought protectors. Like Jean
de Meung before him, and Molière after him, he relied upon royalty.
He went to Rome to solicit the Pope. He obtained protection against
the monks from the high dignitaries of the Church. And having
once taken these precautions against the malice and stupidity of sub-
alterns, he composed, at his own leisure and convenience, one of the
most vehement and most revolutionary works ever directed by human
thought against the social institutions among which it struggles.
The work of Rabelais is divided into five books, of which the
first is entitled 'La Vie Très-Horrifique du Grand Gargantua, Père
de Pantagruel' (The Astounding Life of the Great Gargantua, Father
of Pantagruel;; the second, 'Pantagruel, Roi des Dipsodes, avec ses
Faits et Prouesses Épouvantables' (Pantagruel, King of the Drunkards,
with his Heroic Acts and Achievements); while the last three nar-
rate 'Les Faits et Dicts Heroïques du Bon Pantagruel' (The Heroic
Deeds and Sayings of Good Pantagruel). This work was written at
different times during a period of twenty years, and among all kinds
of journeys and occupations, from 1532 to 1553. Therefore those who
look upon it as a work composed once for all, issuing harmoniously
from the artist's brain like Minerva all armed issuing from the
brain of Jupiter, are entirely wrong. It is rather a Gothic monument
like the cathedrals of the same period, to which have been added
one after another a portal, a tower, a gable, a gallery, rose-windows,
gargoyles, with no thought of unity other than that of the general
inspiration. Strange monument built of mud and of marble, bathed
in shadow and in sunshine, decked with a thousand monstrous forms,
with riddles and logogriphs, and upon which the artist has carved
innumerable sacred or grotesque personages, angels, beasts, monks,
maidens, wise men and fools, devils and phantoms! But this monu-
ment is already illuminated by the classic glimmers of the Renais-
sance; rays of ancient wisdom penetrate it, and reveal here and


## p. 12004 (#38) ###########################################

12004
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
there passages worthy of a place beside the works of Homer, of
Plato, or of Plutarch. The religion of human reason and of natural
beauty ennobles this architecture, apparently so barbarous and mon-
strous.
An encyclopædic genius, stationed on the boundary between
two epochs, two civilizations, and two countries, between the Middle
Ages and the Renaissance, between the north and the south,- Rab-
elais is the heir of the free-singers, of the bold story-tellers and
farce-lovers of past time, from Maître Renart to the Basoche. In this
immense monument still resound all the echoes of the Gallic spirit,
and already vibrates the alarum of the classic spirit. The abbey of
Thélème is vast enough to harbor at one time Plato, St. Paul, Virgil,
Socrates, Jean de Meung, Patelin, François Villon; and also those
macaronic poets of Italy whose unctuous joviality and gigantomachia
had so greatly diverted him during his stay at Rome. Rabelais
combined in his work all these inspirations, as he blended in his
style all the dialects of Picardy, Normandy, Touraine, Champagne,
Provence, etc.
'Gargantua' and 'Pantagruel' are, under a diverting and fantastic
form, the epic of the sixteenth century, as the Iliad and Odyssey
were the epic of ancient Greece; as the 'Divine Comedy' was the
epic of mediæval Catholicism; as the 'Comédie Humaine' of Balzac is
the epic of modern democracy. Châteaubriand was right in defining
Rabelais as "a mother-genius"; for he has conceived and given life
to most of the great French geniuses who followed him. In a tragic
and tumultuous age, filled with public calamities, with the follies of
royal ambition, with the mania for military conquests, with the fury
of intellectual controversies, with the nascent rage for civil wars, with
the Parliament's sentences to death, with the decrees and the fagots
of the Sorbonne, Rabelais attempted to restore his contemporaries to
mental health by making them laugh at their own maladies. The
powerful mocker cast such ridicule upon bad kings (Picrochole), bad
priests (Janotus de Bragmardo), bad magistrates (Grippemihaud, etc. ),
all kinds of fanatics (Coresme-Prenant, Autyrhysis), that he almost
destroyed their infernal power by the mere force of his genial buf-
foonery. And he did not content himself merely with destroying; he
constructed. He was as sublime an idealist as he was a profound,
sometimes coarse, realist. He invented the succession of good kings
(Grangousier, Gargantua, Pantagruel), he created the type of the
good educator (Ponocrates), of the good monk (Brother Jean des
Entommeures), he dreamed the Utopia of the new society, more toler-
ant, more generous, happier than the old; and over the ruins accu-
mulated by his terrible and avenging irony he built the abbey of
Thélème,- that is, of Free Will. On the front he inscribed, "Do
what thou wilt; " thus answering the old cry of the Dominican Izarn


## p. 12005 (#39) ###########################################

FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
12005
at the stake of the Albigeois, "Believe as you do, and you shall be
burned. " Rabelais is a powerful emancipator of modern thought, and
the natural ancestor of the Voltaires and the Diderots.
But he is at the same time a great and incomparable artist. He
had the gift of creating types and the power of creating a language.
A key to Rabelais has been made and remade twenty times: the
commentators have striven to attach a historic name to every char-
acter. According to the usual opinion, Grangousier is Louis XII. ;
Gargantua, Francis I. ; Pantagruel, Henry II. ; Picrochole, either Maxi-
milien Sforza, Ferdinand of Aragon, or Charles V. ; Brother Jean, the
Cardinal du Bellay; Panurge, the Cardinal of Lorraine, or the
author himself. It singularly lessens and lowers Rabelais to reduce
him to the rôle of a contemporary portrait painter; and thus doing,
one understands nothing of the essence or the scope of his work.
The truth is that Rabelais's imagination transformed the matter
upon which it worked, brought out its essential features,- the figures
worthy of preservation, and composed those imperishable types,
mixtures of fancy and truth, which, rooted in their own time, reach
to the most distant future. And Rabelais is not only an epic genius:
he is also the first of the great comic poets of France. Before Cor-
neille and Molière, no author possessed to such a degree the sense
of action, the art of scenic effect, and that of writing dialogue. The
meeting of Pantagruel and the Limousin student, the visit to Ron-
dibilis, the bargain with Dindenant, the consultation of Panurge with
the philosopher Trouillogan, are scenes of the most living comedy.
Finally, his style, like his thought, is magnificent in contrasts,
in exuberance, in fancy and profoundness, lights and shadows. It
has the opulence of Rubens, the irony of Callot, the sublimity of
Rembrandt. The sentence, capricious and unrestrained, is curiously
chiseled, clear, and finished; it is embellished and embroidered at
pleasure, like the ornamental stone of the Gothic monuments under
the hands of the great artists of the Middle Ages. The vocabulary,
one of unequaled wealth, is a heap of diamonds and of waste matter
for the future to sort out. The syntax is a curious one: complex, mul-
tiform, sheathed in Latin, not quite emancipated from dialect, but
already singularly flexible, agile, undulating; realistic or lyrical, bru-
tal or winged, at his will. Finally, it is French language forged and
shaped from pure Latin and Romance metal, with great blows of the
hammer, by the first, and most vigorous of its workers of genius.
Every great French writer proceeds from Rabelais, as every great
Italian writer proceeds from Dante.
Such is this strong and jovial figure, both comic and serious, like
the spectacle of life itself. Great philosopher, great artist, and great
author, Rabelais compels the admiration of the centuries — in spite
-
-


## p. 12006 (#40) ###########################################

12006
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
of his masks, voluntarily coarse and jocose- as the first complete
type of French genius; of the genius of tolerance, of liberty, of gen-
erous irony, which since Rabelais, and from century to century, has
given us Molière, Voltaire and Diderot, Balzac and Hugo.
Henry Bevingen
THE CHILDHOOD OF GARGANTUA
From The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua
G
ARGANTUA, from three years to five, was nourished and in-
structed in all proper discipline by the commandment of
his father, and spent that time like the other little child-
ren of the country,- that is, in drinking, eating, and sleeping;
in eating, sleeping, and drinking; and in sleeping, drinking, and
eating. Still he wallowed in the mire, blackened his face, trod
down his shoes at heel; at the flies he did oftentimes yawn, and
willingly ran after the butterflies, the empire whereof belonged
to his father. He sharpened his teeth with a slipper, washed his
hands with his broth, combed his head with a bowl, sat down
between two stools and came to the ground, covered himself
with a wet sack, drank while eating his soup, ate his cake with-
out bread, would bite in laughing, laugh in biting, hide himself
in the water for fear of rain, go cross, fall into dumps, look de-
mure, skin the fox, say the ape's paternoster, return to his sheep,
turn the sows into the hay, beat the dog before the lion, put the
cart before the horse, scratch where he did not itch, shoe the
grasshopper, tickle himself to make himself laugh, know flies in
milk, scrape paper, blur parchment, then run away, pull at the
kid's leather, reckon without his host, beat the bushes without
catching the birds, and thought that bladders were lanterns. He
always looked a gift-horse in the mouth, hoped to catch larks
if ever the heavens should fall, and made a virtue of necessity.
Every morning his father's puppies ate out of the dish with him,
and he with them. He would bite their ears, and they would
scratch his nose.
The good man Grangousier said to Gargantua's governesses:-
"Philip, King of Macedon, knew the wit of his son Alexander,


## p. 12007 (#41) ###########################################

FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
12007
by his skillful managing of a horse; for the said horse was so
fierce and unruly that none durst adventure to ride him, because
he gave a fall to all his riders, breaking the neck of this man,
the leg of that, the brain of one, and the jawbone of another.
This by Alexander being considered, one day in the hippodrome
(which was a place appointed for the walking and running of
horses) he perceived that the fury of the horse proceeded merely
from the fear he had of his own shadow; whereupon, getting on
his back he ran him against the sun, so that the shadow fell
behind, and by that means tamed the horse and brought him to
his hand. Whereby his father recognized the divine judgment
that was in him, and caused him most carefully to be instructed
by Aristotle, who at that time was highly renowned above all the
philosophers of Greece. After the same manner I tell you, that
as regards my son Gargantua, I know that his understanding
doth participate of some divinity,— so keen, subtle, profound, and
clear do I find him; and if he be well taught, he will attain to a
sovereign degree of wisdom. Therefore will I commit him to.
some learned man, to have him indoctrinated according to his
capacity, and will spare no cost. "
Whereupon they appointed him a great sophister-doctor, called
Maître Tubal Holophernes, who taught him his A B C so well
that he could say it by heart backwards; and about this he was
five years and three months. Then read he to him Donat,
Facet, Theodolet, and Alanus in parabolis. About this he was
thirteen years, six months, and two weeks. But you must remark
that in the mean time he did learn to write in Gothic characters,
and that he wrote all his books,- for the art of printing was not
then in use. After that he read unto him the book 'De Modis
Significandi,' with the commentaries of Hurtebise, of Fasquin, of
Tropditeux, of Gaulehaut, of John le Veau, of Billonio, of Brelin-
gandus, and a rabble of others; and herein he spent more than
eighteen years and eleven months, and was so well versed in it
that at the examination he would recite it by heart backwards,
and did sometimes prove on his fingers to his mother quod de
modis significandi non erat scientia. Then did he read to him
the 'Compost,' on which he spent sixteen years and two months,
and that justly at the time his said preceptor died, which was
in the year one thousand four hundred and twenty. Afterwards
he got another old fellow with a cough to teach him, named
Maître Jobelin Bridé, who read unto him Hugutio, Hebrard's


## p. 12008 (#42) ###########################################

12008
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
'Grécisme,' the Doctrinal,' the 'Parts,' the 'Quid Est,' the
'Supplementum'; Marmotret 'De Moribus in Mensa Servandis';
Seneca De Quatuor Virtutibus Cardinalibus'; Passavantus 'Cum
Commento and Dormi Securé,' for the holidays; and some
other of such-like stuff, by reading whereof he became as wise
as any we have ever baked in an oven.
At the last his father perceived that indeed he studied hard,
and that although he spent all his time in it, he did neverthe-
less profit nothing, but which is worse, grew thereby foolish, sim-
ple, doted, and blockish: whereof making a heavy regret to
Don Philip des Marays, Viceroy of Papeligosse, he found that
it were better for him to learn nothing at all than to be taught
such-like books under such schoolmasters; because their knowl-
edge was nothing but brutishness, and their wisdom but toys,
bastardizing good and noble spirits and corrupting the flower of
youth. "That it is so, take," said he, "any young boy of the
present time, who hath only studied two years: if he have not a
better judgment, a better discourse, and that expressed in better
terms, than your son, with a completer carriage and civility to
all manner of persons, account me forever a chawbacon of La
Brène. "
(
This pleased Grangousier very well, and he commanded that
it should be done. At night at supper, the said Des Marays
brought in a young page of his from Ville-gouges, called Eude-
mon, so well combed, so well dressed, so well brushed, so sweet
in his behavior, that he resembled a little angel more than a
human creature. Then he said to Grangousier, "Do you see
this child? He is not as yet full twelve years old. Let us try,
if it pleaseth you, what difference there is betwixt the knowledge
of the doting dreamers of old time and the young lads that are
now. "
The trial pleased Grangousier, and he commanded the page
to begin. Then Eudemon, asking leave of the viceroy, his mas-
ter, so to do, with his cap in his hand, a clear and open coun-
tenance, ruddy lips, his eyes steady, and his looks fixed upon
Gargantua, with a youthful modesty, stood up straight on his
feet and began to commend and magnify him, first, for his vir-
tue and good manners; secondly, for his knowledge; thirdly,
for his nobility; fourthly, for his bodily beauty; and in the
fifth place, sweetly exhorted him to reverence his father with all
observancy, who was so careful to have him well brought up.


## p. 12009 (#43) ###########################################

FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
12009
In the end he prayed him that he would vouchsafe to admit of
him amongst the least of his servants; for other favor at that
time desired he none of heaven, but that he might do him some
grateful and acceptable service.
All this was by him delivered with gestures so proper, pro-
nunciation so distinct, a voice so eloquent, language so well
turned, and in such good Latin, that he seemed rather a Grac-
chus, a Cicero, an Æmilius of the time past, than a youth of
his age.
But all the countenance that Gargantua kept was, that
he fell to crying like a cow, and cast down his face, hiding it
with his cap; nor could they possibly draw one word from him.
Whereat his father was so grievously vexed that he would have
killed Maître Jobelin; but the said Des Marays withheld him
from it by fair persuasions, so that at length he pacified his
wrath. Then Grangousier commanded he should be paid his
wages, that they should make him drink theologically, after which
he was to go to all the devils. "At least," said he, "to-day shall
it not cost his host much, if by chance he should die as drunk
as an Englishman. "
Maître Jobelin being gone out of the house, Grangousier con-
sulted with the viceroy what tutor they should choose for Gar-
gantua; and it was betwixt them resolved that Ponocrates, the
tutor of Eudemon, should have the charge, and that they should
all go together to Paris, to know what was the study of the
young men of France at that time.
THE EDUCATION OF GARGANTUA
[The mare on which Gargantua rode to Paris was as big as six elephants:
she was brought by sea in three corvettes and a brigantine. With the whisk-
ing of her tail she laid low a whole forest. Mounted on her, Gargantua was
received with great admiration by the Parisians, who, says Rabelais, are more
easily drawn together by a fiddler or a mule with bells than by an evangel-
ical preacher,-a peculiarity which they still preserve. The young giant re-
warded their admiration by carrying away the bells of Notre Dame to hang
round the neck of his mare. To recover these bells the Parisians sent their
most esteemed orator, Maître Janotus de Bragmardo, who came, like the Vice-
Chancellor of Cambridge, duly preceded by three bedells, and followed by
six Masters of Arts - Artless Masters, "Maistres Inerts,» Rabelais calls them.
His oration is a parody on the pretensions of the old-fashioned scholars, the
ostentatious parade of bad Latin, and the learned discourses of doctors. The
bells are restored and the orator rewarded. Then we leave the realms of


## p. 12010 (#44) ###########################################

12010
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
the miraculous and become human again. Gargantua ceases, except at inter-
vals, to be a giant; and Rabelais develops-it is the best, the wisest, the most
useful chapter of his book-his theory of what the education of a prince
should be. ]
Po
ONOCRATES appointed that for the beginning, he should do as
he had been accustomed; to the end he might understand
by what means, for so long a time, his old masters had
made him so foolish, simple, and ignorant. He disposed, there-
fore, of his time in such fashion that ordinarily he did awake
between eight and nine o'clock, whether it was day or not; for
so had his ancient governors ordained, alleging that which David
saith, Vanum est vobis ante lucem surgere. Then did he tumble
and wallow in the bed some time, the better to stir up his vital
spirits, and appareled himself according to the season; but will-
ingly he would wear a great long gown of thick frieze, lined
with fox fur. Afterwards he combed his head with the German
comb, which is the four fingers and the thumb; for his pre-
ceptors said that to comb himself otherwise, to wash and make
himself neat, was to lose time in this world.
Then to suppress
the dew and bad air, he breakfasted on fair fried tripe, fair
grilled meats, fair hams, fair hashed capon, and store of sippet
brewis. Ponocrates showed him that he ought not to eat so soon
after rising out of his bed, unless he had performed some exer-
cise beforehand. Gargantua answered: "What!
have not I suffi-
ciently well exercised myself? I rolled myself six or seven turns
in my bed before I rose. Is not that enough? Pope Alexander
did so, by the advice of a Jew, his physician; and lived till his
dying day in despite of the envious. My first masters have used
me to it, saying that breakfast makes a good memory; where-
fore they drank first. I am very well after it, and dine but the
better. And Maître Tubal, who was the first licentiate at Paris,
told me that it is not everything to run a pace, but to set forth
well betimes: so doth not the total welfare of our humanity
depend upon perpetual drinking atas, atas, like ducks, but on
drinking well in the morning; whence the verse-
"To rise betimes is no good hour,
To drink betimes is better sure. > >>
After he had thoroughly broken his fast, he went to church;
and they carried for him, in a great basket, a huge breviary.
There he heard six-and-twenty or thirty masses. This while, to


## p. 12011 (#45) ###########################################

FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
I 2011
the same place came his sayer of hours, lapped up about the
chin like a tufted whoop, and his breath perfumed with good
store of syrup.
With him he mumbled all his kyriels, which he
so curiously picked that there fell not so much as one grain to
the ground. As he went from the church, they brought him,
upon a dray drawn by oxen, a heap of paternosters of Sanct
Claude, every one of them being of the bigness of a hat-block;
and thus walking through the cloisters, galleries, or garden, he
said more in turning them over than sixteen hermits would have
done. Then did he study for some paltry half-hour with his
eyes fixed upon his book; but as the comic saith, his mind was
in the kitchen. Then he sat down at table; and because he was
naturally phlegmatic, he began his meal with some dozens of
hams, dried neats' tongues, mullet's roe, chitterlings, and such
other forerunners of wine. In the meanwhile, four of his folks
did cast into his mouth, one after another continually, mustard
by whole shovelfuls. Immediately after that he drank a horrific
draught of white wine for the ease of his kidneys. When that
was done, he ate according to the season meat agreeable to his
appetite, and then left off eating when he was like to crack for
fulness. As for his drinking, he had neither end nor rule. For
he was wont to say, that the limits and bounds of drinking were
when the cork of the shoes of him that drinketh swelleth up half
a foot high.
Then heavily mumbling a scurvy grace, he washed his hands
in fresh wine, picked his teeth with the foot of a pig, and talked
jovially with his attendants. Then the carpet being spread, they
brought great store of cards, dice, and chessboards.
After having well played, reveled, passed and spent his time,
it was proper to drink a little, and that was eleven goblets the
man; and immediately after making good cheer again, he would
stretch himself upon a fair bench, or a good large bed, and there
sleep two or three hours together without thinking or speaking
any hurt.
After he was awakened he would shake his ears a
little. In the mean time they brought him fresh wine. Then he
drank better than ever. Ponocrates showed him that it was an
ill diet to drink so after sleeping. "It is," answered Gargantua,
"the very life of the Fathers; for naturally I sleep salt, and my
sleep hath been to me instead of so much ham. " Then began he
to study a little, and the paternosters first, which the better and
more formally to dispatch, he got up on an old mule which had


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12012
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
served nine kings; and so mumbling with his mouth, doddling
his head, would go see a coney caught in a net. At his return
he went into the kitchen, to know what roast meat was on the
spit; and supped very well, upon my conscience, and commonly
did invite some of his neighbors that were good drinkers; with
whom carousing, they told stories of all sorts, from the old to the
new. After supper were brought in upon the place the fair
wooden gospels-that is to say, many pairs of tables and cards
—with little small banquets, intermined with collations and reer-
suppers. Then did he sleep without unbridling, until eight
o'clock in the next morning.
When Ponocrates knew Gargantua's vicious manner of living,
he resolved to bring him up in another kind; but for a while he
bore with him, considering that nature does not endure sudden
changes without great violence. Therefore, to begin his work
the better, he requested a learned physician of that time, called
Maître Theodorus, seriously to perpend, if it were possible, how
to bring Gargantua unto a better course. The said physician
purged him canonically with Anticyran hellebore, by which med-
icine he cleansed all the alteration and perverse habitude of his
brain. By this means also Ponocrates made him forget all that
he had learned under his ancient preceptors. To do this better,
they brought him into the company of learned men who were
there, in emulation of whom a great desire and affection came to
him to study otherwise, and to improve his parts. Afterwards he
put himself into such a train of study that he lost not any hour
in the day, but employed all his time in learning and honest
knowledge. Gargantua awaked then about four o'clock in the
morning. Whilst they were rubbing him, there was read unto
him some chapter of the Holy Scripture aloud and clearly, with
a pronunciation fit for the matter; and hereunto was appointed
a young page born in Basché, named Anagnostes. According
to the purpose and argument of that lesson, he oftentimes gave
himself to revere, adore, pray, and send up his supplications to
that good God whose word did show his majesty and marvelous
judgments. Then his master repeated what had been read, ex-
pounding unto him the most obscure and difficult points. They
then considered the face of the sky, if it was such as they had
observed it the night before, and into what signs the sun was
entering, as also the moon for that day. This done, he was
appareled, combed, curled, trimmed, and perfumed, during which


## p. 12013 (#47) ###########################################

FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
12013
time they repeated to him the lessons of the day before. He
himself said them by heart, and upon them grounded practical
cases concerning the estate of man; which he would prosecute
sometimes two or three hours, but ordinarily they ceased as soon
as he was fully clothed. Then for three good hours there was
reading. This done, they went forth, still conferring of the sub-
stance of the reading, and disported themselves at ball, tennis, or
the pile trigone; gallantly exercising their bodies, as before they
had done their minds. All their play was but in liberty, for
they left off when they pleased; and that was commonly when
they did sweat, or were otherwise weary. Then were they very
well dried and rubbed, shifted their shirts, and walking soberly,
went to see if dinner was ready. Whilst they stayed for that,
they did clearly and eloquently recite some sentences that they
had retained of the lecture. In the mean time Master Appetite
came, and then very orderly sat they down at table. At the
beginning of the meal there was read some pleasant history of
ancient prowess, until he had taken his wine. Then if they
thought good, they continued reading, or began to discourse
merrily together; speaking first of the virtue, propriety, efficacy,
and nature of all that was served in at that table; of bread, of
wine, of water, of salt, of flesh, fish, fruits, herbs, roots, and of
their dressing. By means whereof, he learned in a little time all
the passages that on these subjects are to be found in Pliny,
Athenæus, Dioscorides, Julius Pollux, Galen, Porphyrius, Oppian,
Polybius, Heliodorus, Aristotle, Ælian, and others. Whilst they
talked of these things, many times, to be more the certain, they
caused the very books to be brought to the table; and so well
and perfectly did he in his memory retain the things above said,
that in that time there was not a physician that knew half so
much as he did. Afterwards they conferred of the lessons read
in the morning; and ending their repast with some conserve of
quince, he washed his hands and eyes with fair fresh water, and
gave thanks unto God in some fine canticle, made in praise of
the Divine bounty and munificence. This done, they brought in
cards, not to play, but to learn a thousand pretty tricks and new
inventions, which were all grounded upon arithmetic. By this
means he fell in love with that numerical science; and every
day after dinner and supper he passed his time in it as pleas-
antly as he was wont to do at cards and dice: so that at last he
understood so well both the theory and practice thereof, that


## p. 12014 (#48) ###########################################

12014
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
Tonstal the Englishman, who had written very largely of that
purpose, confessed that verily in comparison of him he under-
stood nothing but double Dutch; and not only in that, but in
the other mathematical sciences, as geometry, astronomy, music.
For while waiting for the digestion of his food, they made a
thousand joyous instruments and geometrical figures, and at the
same time practiced the astronomical canons.
After this they recreated themselves with singing musically,
in four or five parts, or upon a set theme, as it best pleased
them. In matter of musical instruments, he learned to the
lute, the spinet, the harp, the German flute, the flute with nine
holes, the violin, and the sackbut. This hour thus spent, he be-
took himself to his principal study for three hours together, or
more, as well to repeat his matutinal lectures as to proceed in
the book wherein he was; as also to write handsomely, to draw
and form the antique and Roman letters. This being done, they
went out of their house, and with them a young gentleman of
Touraine, named Gymnast, who taught him the art of riding.
Changing then his clothes, he mounted on any kind of a horse,
which he made to bound in the air, to jump the ditch, to leap
the palisade, and to turn short in a ring both to the right and
left hand. There he broke not his lance; for it is the great-
est foolishness in the world to say, I have broken ten lances at
tilts or in fight. A carpenter can do even as much. But it is
a glorious and praiseworthy action with one lance to break and
overthrow ten enemies. Therefore with a sharp, strong, and stiff
lance would he usually force a door, pierce a harness, uproot a
tree, carry away the ring, lift up a saddle, with the mail-coat.
and gauntlet. All this he did in complete arms from head to
foot. He was singularly skillful in leaping nimbly from one
horse to another without putting foot to ground. He could like-
wise from either side, with a lance in his hand, leap on horse-
back without stirrups, and rule the horse at his pleasure without
a bridle; for such things are useful in military engagements.
Another day he exercised the battle-axe, which he so dexterously
wielded that he was passed knight of arms in the field and at all
essays.
Then tossed he the pike, played with the two-handed sword,
with the back sword, with the Spanish tuck, the dagger, pon-
iard, armed, unarmed, with a buckler, with a cloak, with a target.
Then would he hunt the hart, the roebuck, the bear, the fallow


## p. 12015 (#49) ###########################################

FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
12015
deer, the wild boar, the hare, the pheasant, the partridge, and
the bustard. He played at the great ball, and made it bound in
the air, both with fist and foot. He wrestled, ran, jumped, not
at three steps and a leap, nor a hopping, nor yet at the German
jump; "for," said Gymnast, "these jumps are for the wars alto-
gether unprofitable, and of no use:" but at one leap he would
skip over a ditch, spring over a hedge, mount six paces upon a
wall, climb after this fashion up against a window, the height of
a lance. He did swim in deep waters on his face, on his back,
sidewise, with all his body, with his feet only, with one hand in
the air, wherein he held a book, crossing thus the breadth of the
river Seine without wetting, and dragging along his cloak with
his teeth, as did Julius Cæsar; then with the help of one hand
he entered forcibly into a boat, from whence he cast himself
again headlong into the water, sounded the depths, hollowed the
rocks, and plunged into the pits and gulfs. Then turned he
the boat about, governed it, led it swiftly or slowly with the
stream and against the stream, stopped it in its course, guided
it with one hand, and with the other laid hard about him with
a huge great oar, hoisted the sail, hied up along the mast by
the shrouds, ran upon the bulwarks, set the compass, tackled the
bowlines, and steered the helm. Coming out of the water, he ran
furiously up against a hill, and with the same alacrity and swift-
ness ran down again. He climbed up trees like a cat, leaped
from the one to the other like a squirrel. He did pull down the
great boughs and branches, like another Milo: then with two
sharp well-steeled daggers, and two tried bodkins, would he run
up by the wall to the very top of a house like a rat; then sud-
denly come down from the top to the bottom, with such an even
disposal of members that by the fall he would catch no harm.
He did cast the dart, throw the bar, put the stone, practice
the javelin, the boar-spear or partisan, and the halbert. He
broke the strongest bows in drawing, bended against his breast
the greatest cross-bows of steel, took his aim by the eye with the
hand-gun, traversed the cannon; shot at the butts, at the pape-
gay, before him, sidewise, and behind him, like the Parthians.
They tied a cable-rope to the top of a high tower, by one end
whereof hanging near the ground he wrought himself with his
hands to the very top; then came down again so sturdily and
firmly that you could not on a plain meadow have run with
more assurance. They set up a great pole fixed upon two trees.


## p. 12016 (#50) ###########################################

12016
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
There would he hang by his hands, and with them alone, his feet
touching at nothing, would go back and fore along the aforesaid
rope with so great swiftness, that hardly could one overtake him
with running.
Then to exercise his breast and lungs, he would shout like all
the devils. I heard him once call Eudemon from the Porte St.
Victor to Montmartre. Stentor never had such a voice at the
siege of Troy.
Then for the strengthening of his nerves, they made him two
great pigs of lead, each in weight 8,700 quintals. Those he took
up from the ground, in each hand one, then lifted them up over
his head, and held them so without stirring three quarters of an
hour or more, which was an inimitable force.
He fought at barriers with the stoutest; and when it came to
the cope, he stood so sturdily on his feet that he abandoned
himself unto the strongest, in case they could remove him from
his place, as Milo was wont to do of old,-in imitation of whom
he held a pomegranate in his hand, to give it unto him that
could take it from him.
The time being thus bestowed, and himself rubbed, cleansed,
and refreshed with other clothes, they returned fair and softly;
and passing through certain meadows, or other grassy places,
beheld the trees and plants, comparing them with what is writ-
ten of them in the books of the ancients, such as Theophrastus,
Dioscorides, Marinus, Pliny, Nicander, Macer, and Galen, and
carried home to the house great handfuls of them, whereof a
young page called Rhizotomos had charge - together with hoes,
picks, spuds, pruning-knives, and other instruments requisite for
herbarizing. Being come to their lodging, whilst supper was
making ready, they repeated certain passages of that which has
been read, and then sat down at table. Here remark, that his
dinner was sober and frugal, for he did then eat only to prevent
the gnawings of his stomach; but his supper was copious and
large, for he took then as much as was fit to maintain and
nourish him: which indeed is the true diet prescribed by the art
of good and sound physic, although a rabble of fond physicians
counsel the contrary. During that repast was continued the les-
son read at dinner as long as they thought good; the rest was
spent in good discourse, learned and profitable. After that they
had given thanks, they set themselves to sing musically, and play
upon harmonious instruments, or at those pretty sports made with


## p. 12017 (#51) ###########################################

FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
12017
cards, dice, or cups, thus made merry till it was time to go to
bed; and sometimes they would go make visits unto learned men,
or to such as had been travelers in strange countries. At full
night they went unto the most open place of the house to see
the face of the sky, and there beheld the comets, if any were, as
likewise the figures, situations, aspects, oppositions, and conjunc-
tions of the stars.
-
Then with his master did he briefly recapitulate, after the
manner of the Pythagoreans, that which he had read, seen,
learned, done, and understood in the whole course of that day.
Then prayed they unto God the Creator, falling down before
him, and strengthening their faith towards him, and glorifying
him for his boundless bounty; and giving thanks unto him for
the time that was past, they recommended themselves to his
Divine clemency for the future. Which being done, they entered
upon their repose.
If it happened that the weather were rainy and inclement,
the forenoon was employed according to custom, except that they
had a good clear fire lighted, to correct the distempers of the
air. But after dinner, instead of their wonted exercitations, they
did abide within, and by way of Apotherapie, did recreate them-
selves in bottling hay, in cleaving and sawing wood, and in
threshing sheaves of corn at the barn.
Then they studied the art of painting or carving; or brought
into use the antique game of knucklebones, as Leonicus hath
written of it, and as our good friend Lascaris playeth at it.
While playing, they examined the passages of ancient authors
wherein the said play is mentioned, or any metaphor drawn
from it.
They went likewise to see the drawing of metals, or the cast-
ing of great ordnance: they went to see the lapidaries, the gold-
smiths and cutters of precious stones, the alchemists, coiners
of money, upholsterers, weavers, velvet-workers, watchmakers,
looking-glass-makers, printers, organists, dyers, and other such
kind of artificers; and everywhere giving them wine, did learn
and consider the industry and invention of the trades.
They went also to hear the public lectures, the solemn Acts,
the repetitions, the declamations, the pleadings of the gentle law.
yers, and sermons of evangelical preachers.
He went through the halls and places appointed for fencing,
and there played against the masters of all weapons, and showed
them by experience that he knew as much in it as, yea, more
XXI-752


## p. 12018 (#52) ###########################################

12018
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
than they. And instead of herbarizing, they visited the shops of
druggists, herbalists, and apothecaries, and diligently considered
the fruits, roots, leaves, gums, seeds, and strange unguents, as
also how they did compound them.
He went to see jugglers, tumblers, mountebanks, and quack-
salvers, and considered their cunning, their shifts, their summer-
saults, and their smooth tongues; especially of those of Chauny
in Picardy, who are naturally great praters, and brave gibers of
fibs, in manner of green apes.
At their return they did eat more soberly at supper than at
other times, and meats more desiccative and extenuating; to the
end that the intemperate moisture of the air, communicated to
the body by a necessary confinity, might by this means be cor-
rected, and that they might not receive any prejudice for want
of their ordinary bodily exercise.
Thus was Gargantua governed; and kept on in this course of
education, from day to day profiting, as you may understand
such a young man of good sense, with such discipline so contin-
ued, may do. Which, although at the beginning it seemed diffi-
cult, became a little after so sweet, so easy, and so delightful,
that it seemed rather the recreation of a king than the study of a
scholar. Nevertheless, Ponocrates, to divert him from this vehe-
ment intention of spirit, thought fit, once in a month, upon some
fair and clear day, to go out of the city betimes in the morn-
ing, either towards Gentilly or Boulogne, or to Montrouge, or
Charenton-bridge, or to Vanves, or St. Cloud, and there spend
all the day long in making the greatest cheer that could be
devised; sporting, making merry, drinking healths, playing, sing-
ing, dancing, tumbling in some fair meadow, unnestling of spar-
rows, taking of quails, and fishing for frogs and crayfish. But
though that day was passed without books or lecture, yet was it
not spent without profit; for in the said meadows they repeated
certain pleasant verses of Virgil's 'Agriculture,' of Hesiod, and
of Politian's Husbandry'; would set abroach some witty Latin
epigrams, then immediately turned them into rondeaux and bal-
lades in the French language. In their feasting they would some-
times separate the water from the wine that was there with mixed
-as Cato teacheth, De re rustica, and Pliny-with an ivy cup;
would wash the wine in a basin full of water, and take it out
again with a funnel; would make the water go from one glass
to another, and would contrive little automatic engines,- that is
to say, machines moving of themselves.
1


## p. 12019 (#53) ###########################################

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12019
THE ABBEY OF THELEMA
THER
HERE was left only the monk to provide for; whom Gargantua
would have made Abbot of Seuillé, but he refused it. He
would have given him the Abbey of Bourgueil, or of Sanct
Florent which was better, or both if it pleased him; but the
monk gave him a very peremptory answer, that he would never
take upon him the charge nor government of monks. "For how
shall I be able," said he, "to rule over others, that have not full
power and command of myself? If you think I have done
you, or may hereafter do you, any acceptable service, give me
leave to found an abbey after my own mind and fancy. " The
motion pleased Gargantua very well; who thereupon offered him
all the country of Thelema by the river Loire, till within two
leagues of the great forest of Port-Huaut. The monk then re-
quested Gargantua to institute his religious order contrary to all
others.
"First, then," said Gargantua, "you must not build a wall
about your convent, for all other abbeys are strongly walled and
mured about. "
Moreover, seeing there are certain convents in the world
whereof the custom is, if any women come in,-I mean honor-
able and honest women,- they immediately sweep the ground
which they have trod upon; therefore was it ordained that if
any man or woman, entered into religious orders, should by
chance come within this new abbey, all the rooms should be
thoroughly washed and cleansed through which they had passed.
And because in other monasteries all is compassed, limited,
and regulated by hours, it was decreed that in this new structure
there should be neither clock nor dial, but that according to the
opportunities, and incident occasions, all their works should be
disposed of;"for," said Gargantua, "the greatest loss of time
that I know is to count the hours. What good comes of it?
Nor can there be any greater folly in the world than for one to
guide and direct his courses by the sound of a bell, and not by
his own judgment and discretion. "
Item, Because at that time they put no women into nun-
neries but such as were either one-eyed, lame, humpbacked, ill-
favored, misshapen, foolish, senseless, spoiled, or corrupt; nor
encloistered any men but those that were either sickly, ill-bred,
clownish, and the trouble of the house:-
――――


## p. 12020 (#54) ###########################################

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FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
("Apropos," said the monk,-"a woman that is neither fair
nor good, to what use serves she? " "To make a nun of," said
Gargantua. "Yea," said the monk, "and to make shirts. ")
Therefore, Gargantua said, was it ordained, that into this
religious order should be admitted no women that were not fair,
well-featured, and of a sweet disposition; nor men that were not
comely, personable, and also of a sweet disposition.
Item, Because in the convents of women men come not but
underhand, privily, and by stealth: it was therefore enacted that
in this house there shall be no women in case there be not men,
nor men in case there be not women.
Item, Because both men and women that are received into
religious orders after the year of their novitiate were constrained
and forced perpetually to stay there all the days of their life: it
was ordered that all of whatever kind, men or women, admitted
within this abbey, should have full leave to depart with peace
and contentment whensoever it should seem good to them so
to do.
Item, For that the religious men and women did ordinarily
make three vows, to wit, those of chastity, poverty, and obedi-
ence: it was therefore constituted and appointed that in this con-
vent they might be honorably married, that they might be rich,
and live at liberty. In regard to the legitimate age, the women.
were to be admitted from ten till fifteen, and the men from
twelve till eighteen.
For the fabric and furniture of the abbey, Gargantua caused
to be delivered out in ready money twenty-seven hundred thou-
sand eight hundred and one-and-thirty of those long-wooled
rams; and for every year until the whole work was completed
he allotted threescore nine thousand gold crowns, and as many
of the seven stars, to be charged all upon the receipt of the
river Dive. For the foundation and maintenance thereof he set-
tled in perpetuity three-and-twenty hundred threescore and nine
thousand five hundred and fourteen rose nobles, taxes exempted
from all in landed rents, and payable every year at the gate of
the abbey; and for this gave them fair letters patent.
The building was hexagonal, and in such a fashion that in
every one of the six corners there was built a great round tower,
sixty paces in diameter, and were all of a like form and big-
Upon the north side ran the river Loire, on the bank
whereof was situated the tower called Arctic. Going towards the
ness.


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FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
I 2021
east there was another called Calær, the next following Anatole,
the next Mesembrine, the next Hesperia, and the last Criere.
Between each two towers was the space of three hundred and
twelve paces.
The whole edifice was built in six stories, reckon-
ing the cellars underground for one. The second was vaulted
after the fashion of a basket-handle; the rest were coated with
Flanders plaster, in the form of a lamp foot. It was roofed with
fine slates of lead, carrying figures of baskets and animals; the
ridge gilt, together with the gutters, which issued without the
wall between the windows, painted diagonally in gold and blue
down to the ground, where they ended in great canals, which
carried away the water below the house into the river.
This same building was a hundred times more sumptuous and
magnificent than ever was Bonivet; for there were in it nine
thousand three hundred and two-and-thirty chambers, every one.
whereof had a withdrawing-room, a closet, a wardrobe, a chapel,
and a passage into a great hall. Between every tower, in the
midst of the said body of building, there was a winding stair,
whereof the steps were part of porphyry, which is a dark-red
marble spotted with white, part of Numidian stone, and part of
serpentine marble; each of those steps being two-and-twenty feet
in length and three fingers thick, and the just number of twelve
betwixt every landing-place. On every landing were two fair
antique arcades where the light came in; and by those they
went into a cabinet, made even with, and of the breadth of the
said winding, and they mounted above the roof and ended in
a pavilion. By this winding they entered on every side into
a great hall, and from the halls into the chambers. From the
Arctic tower unto the Criere were fair great libraries in Greek,
Latin, Hebrew, French, Italian, and Spanish, respectively dis-
tributed on different stories, according to their languages. In
the midst there was a wonderful winding stair, the entry whereof
was without the house, in an arch six fathoms broad.
It was
made in such symmetry and largeness that six men-at-arms,
lance on thigh, might ride abreast all up to the very top of all
the palace. From the tower Anatole to the Mesembrine were
fair great galleries, all painted with the ancient prowess, his-
tories, and descriptions of the world. In the midst thereof there
was likewise such another ascent and gate as we said there was
on the river-side.


## p. 12022 (#56) ###########################################

12022
FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
In the middle of the lower court there was a stately fountain
of fair alabaster. Upon the top thereof stood the three Graces,
with horns of abundance, and did jet out the water at their
breasts, mouth, ears, and eyes. The inside of the buildings in
this lower court stood upon great pillars of Cassydonian stone,
and porphyry in fair ancient arches. Within these were spacious
galleries, long and large, adorned with curious pictures - the
horns of bucks and unicorns; of the rhinoceros and the hippo-
potamus; the teeth and tusks of elephants, and other things well
worth the beholding. The lodging of the ladies took up all from
the tower Arctic unto the gate Mesembrine. The men possessed
the rest. Before the said lodging of the ladies, that they might
have their recreation, between the two first towers, on the out-
side, were placed the tilt-yard, the hippodrome, the theatre, the
swimming-bath, with most admirable baths in three stages, well
furnished with all necessary accommodation, and store of myrtle-
water. By the river-side was the fair garden of pleasure, and in
the midst of that a fair labyrinth. Between the two other towers
were the tennis and fives courts. Towards the tower Criere stood
the orchard full of all fruit-trees, set and ranged in a quincunx.
At the end of that was the great park, abounding with all sort
of game.
Betwixt the third couple of towers were the butts for
arquebus, crossbow, and arbalist. The stables were beyond the
offices, and before them stood the falconry, managed by falconers
very expert in the art; and it was yearly supplied by the Can-
dians, Venetians, Sarmatians, with all sorts of excellent birds,
eagles, gerfalcons, goshawks, falcons, sparrow-hawks, merlins, and
other kinds of them, so gentle and perfectly well trained that,
flying from the castle for their own disport, they would not fail
to catch whatever they encountered. The venery was a little
further off, drawing towards the park.
All the halls, chambers, and cabinets were hung with tapestry
of divers sorts, according to the seasons of the year. All the
pavements were covered with green cloth. The beds were em-
broidered. In every back chamber there was a looking-glass of
pure crystal, set in a frame of fine gold garnished with pearls,
and of such greatness that it would represent to the full the
whole person.
At the going out of the halls belonging to the
ladies' lodgings were the perfumers and hair-dressers, through
whose hands the gallants passed when they were to visit the


## p. 12023 (#57) ###########################################

FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
12023
ladies. These did every morning furnish the ladies chambers
with rose-water, musk, and angelica; and to each of them gave a
little smelling-bottle breathing the choicest aromatical scents.
The ladies on the foundation of this order were appareled
after their own pleasure and liking. But since, of their own free
will, they were reformed in manner as followeth :-
They wore stockings of scarlet which reached just three inches.
above the knee, having the border beautified with embroideries.
and trimming. Their garters were of the color of their brace-
lets, and circled the knee both over and under. Their shoes and
slippers were either of red, violet, or crimson velvet, cut à barbe
d'écrévisse.
Next to their smock they put on a fair corset of pure silk
camblet; above that went the petticoat of white, red tawny, or
gray taffety. Above this was the cotte in cloth of silver, with
needlework either (according to the temperature and disposition
of the weather) of satin, damask, velvet, orange, tawny, green,
ash-colored, blue, yellow, crimson, cloth of gold, cloth of silver,
or some other choice stuff, according to the day.
Their gowns, correspondent to the season, were either of cloth
of gold with silver edging, of red satin covered with gold purl,
of taffety, white, blue, black, or tawny, of silk serge, silk cam-
blet, velvet, cloth of silver, silver tissue, cloth of gold, velvet, or
figured satin with golden threads.
In the summer, some days, instead of gowns, they wore fair
mantles of the above-named stuff, or capes of violet velvet with
edging of gold, or with knotted cordwork of gold embroidery,
garnished with little Indian pearls.