‘Try that on somebody else,’ said Panurge. ‘You’ve played a weak card there. Little-fish almighty! Have I not adequately explained to you the transmutation of elements and the ready symbolic harmony between the roasted and the boiled: the boiled and the roasted?57
‘Aah! Look! There he is! I’m off to hide away down below. This time we’re all done for. I can see harsh Atropos over our maintop, with scissors freshly honed to snip off the threads of our lives. Look out! Here he comes. O you horrible and abominable thing! Many have you drowned who never lived to boast of it! Gosh. If only he spouted good wine, white, red, delightful and delicious rather than water, stinking, salty and brackish, it would be a bit more tolerable; and could be a reason for putting up with the suffering, following the example of that English Lord who, once convicted of specific crimes, was allowed to choose his own death and opted to be drowned in a butt of Malmsey.
‘Here it comes! Ah! Ah! Satan! Devil! Leviathan! You’re so hideous and loathsome that I can’t bear to look at you. Off with you to the Chancery: oft to the Chicanous!’
How the monstrous Physeter was killed by Pantagruel
CHAPTER 34
[For a while Pantagruel becomes physically a giant again whose size and skills are emphasized. Tales of the killing of whales are current enough in seamen’s tales as in literature. Rabelais’ is a fine piece of writing and description. One might have expected the biblical leviathan to play a greater part than it does.
More sporting with equilateral triangles. The darts piercing the physeter form an equilateral triangle. Cf. the three Fierres (Peters) of the Prologue and finally, most seriously and with evident Christian and Platonic mysticism, the Manor of Truth in Chapter 55. Rabelais’ description of great iron and bronze cannon-balls seeming ‘to melt like tiles in the sun’ is strange: what kind of tiles did he mean?
There is a confusion between two Roman emperors, Commodus and Domitian.]
The physeter, venturing within the fighting angle formed by the ships and galleons, spurted water by the barrelful on to the leading vessels: it was like the cataracts on the Ethiopian Nile. Darts, arrows, javelins, stakes, harpoons and spears flew at it from all sides. Frère Jean never spared himself. Panurge was dying of fear. The artillery made a very devil of a noise, thundering, lightning and doing its job of playing at pinch-me-tight! But little was gained since great iron and bronze cannon-balls seemed, viewed from a distance, to melt like tiles in the sun as soon as they penetrated its skin.
So Pantagruel, after considering what was opportune and necessary, flexed his arms and showed what he could do.
You tell us – and it is written – that Commodus, that scoundrel who was the Emperor of Rome, could aim from afar so dexterously with his bow that he could shoot without grazing them between the fingers of little boys holding up a hand.
You also tell us of an Indian archer (from the time when Alexander the Great conquered India) who was so skilled that he made his arrows fly through a ring from afar, doing so despite those arrows being three cubits long, with iron heads so big and heavy that he could cut through steel swords with them as well as through thick shields, steel breastplates and indeed anything at all that he hit, however hard, solid, resistant and tough.
You also tell us marvels of the skill of the French of old who were considered the best of all at archery: when they were out hunting the black boar or the red deer they would rub the metal tips of their arrows with hellebore, since the flesh of any animals which were then shot was more tender, tasty, wholesome and delicious; they did, however, cut round and remove the part which had been struck.
You tell a similar tale of the Parthians, who shot behind them with greater skill than other peoples do to the fore. You also praise the Scythians for showing the same dexterity; an ambassador was sent from them to Darius, the King of the Persians, to whom without a word he offered a bird, a frog, a mouse and five arrows. He was asked what was implied by such gifts: had he been charged with saying anything? He answered, No. Darius would have remained surprised and puzzled were it not for Gobryes (one of the seven captains who had killed the Magi) who deciphered and explained it to him. ‘By those gifts and presents,’ he said, ‘the Scythians are tacitly telling you that if the Persians cannot fly in the sky like birds, hide near the centre of the Earth like mice and conceal themselves in the depths of ponds and marshes like frogs, they will all be sent to perdition by the might and shafts of the Scythians.’58
Now our noble Pantagruel performed incomparably greater wonders in the art of hurling and shooting since, with his horrifying harpoons and darts (which can be rightly compared in length, thickness, weight and ironwork with the great beams which support the bridges at Nantes, Saumur and Bergerac, as well as the Pont au Change and the Pont aux Meuniers in Paris), he would open oysters in their shells from a thousand paces without striking their sides; snip through a candle-flame without dowsing it; shoot magpies through the eye; shave the soles off boots without damaging them; shear the fur from cowls without spoiling them, and turn the leaves of Frère Jean’s breviary, one after another, without tearing them.
With darts such as those (of which there was a great store in his ship) he so pierced the forehead of the physeter as to go through both its jaws and its tongue so that it could no longer open its mouth, draw in water or spout it out. With his second blow he poked out its right eye; with the third, its left. Then, to the amusement of us all, the whale looked as if it bore three horns on its forehead, inclining forward to form an equilateral triangle, as it twisted and turned from side to side, reeling about and losing its way as a thing dazed, blinded and close to death.
Not content with this, Pantagruel hurled another dart against its tail; it too remained inclined backwards. Then he hurled three more, which stood perpendicularly in a line along its spine, spaced so as to divide its length from tip to tail into three exactly equal parts. Finally he launched fifty darts against its flanks on one side and fifty darts against the other, with the result that the body of the physeter resembled the keel of a three-master galleon, mortised and tenoned together by beams of the appropriate size, as if they were the ribs and channel-boards of the keel. It was a most pleasing sight to see. Then, as it died, it turned over on to its back as all dead fishes do, looking once it had turned over – as the ancient sage Nicander describes it – like a scolopendra: a serpent with a hundred feet.
How Pantagruel landed on the Ile Farouche, the ancient dwelling-place of the Chidlings
CHAPTER 35
[It might seem odd that the Chidlings should look like squirrels, but, whimsy apart, there is a stock illustration of a squirrel in one of the editions of the Disciple de Pantagruel which would lead any reader to think that they did. In the Fourth Book they vary from looking like furry animals to looking like sausages.
There is a sustained and serious play on reconcilier (to reconcile) and Concile (Council). The Council of Trent is again called the Concile de Chésil (fools).
It dismally fails in its duty to re-concile. In 1548 hopes had been raised that some at least of the contending parties would, once invited to Trent, reach an understanding. Most were inflexible. Rabelais refuses to allow any Catholic (universal) quality to Trent. It is a National not a Catholic Council.
An heroic element is introduced by an allusion to Dido and Aeneas from Aeneid, 1, 561ff.]
Oarsmen from the Lantern trussed up the physeter and towed it ashore on to the nearby island called Ile Farouche so as to cut it up and recover the fat from its kidneys, which was said to be most useful, indeed necessary, for the curing of a certain malady called Lack-of-the-Ready.
Pantagruel did not pay much attention, for he had already seen several others very like it – indeed, even huger ones – in the Gallic Ocean. He did however agree to disembark at the Ile Farouche to dry some of his men who had been drenched by the ugly physeter and to allow others who had been bespattered by it to freshen themselves up in a little deserted haven towards the south situated by
a pleasant grove of tall, handsome trees; from it flowed a delightful scream of fresh water, clear and sparkling. Field-kitchens were set up under beautiful awnings there being no lack of firewood. Each man changed into whatever clothes he wished; Frère Jean then tolled the bell. At which the trestle-tables were laid and promptly served.
While Pantagruel was merrily dining with his men, as the second course was being brought in he noticed certain cunning little Chidlings scrambling silently up a tall tree near to where the wine was kept cool. So he asked Xenomanes what sort of animals they were, believing that they were squirrels, weasels, martins or stoats. ‘They are Chidlings,’ replied Xenomanes. ‘This is the Ile Farouche: I was telling you about it this morning. Between them and Quarêmeprenant, their ancient and venomous enemy, there has long since been a war unto death. I suspect that our cannonades against the physeter made them somewhat fearful, wondering whether that same enemy had come with his forces to take them by surprise or to lay waste this island of theirs, as he had striven to do several times before but to little effect in the face of the care and vigilance of the Chidlings who (as Dido told the companions of Aeneas when they wished to make harbour in Carthage without her knowledge or assent) were constrained to be eternally vigilant and on the watch because of the malignity of their enemy and the proximity of his lands.’ – ‘Indeed, my fair friend,’ said Pantagruel; ‘if you can see a way to put an end to those hostilities by some honourable means – and those foes to reconcile – then give me your advice. I would devote myself to it with a good heart and without stint, aiming to temper and season the controversies between both the parties.’
‘It is not possible, for the present,’ replied Xenomanes. ‘Some four years ago, when I was travelling from this island to the island of Tapinois, I set myself the task of establishing a peace between them, or at least a long truce. And they would already have been good friends and neighbours by now if any in either party had rid themselves of their emotions over one single article. Quarêmeprenant would not include in the peace-treaty either the wild Boudins or the mountain-born Sausages, their ancient comrades and confederates. The Chidlings insisted that the Fortress of the Fish-barrel be at their discretion exactly as the Castle of the Salt-meat-barrel is governed and controlled; and that there should be driven from thence those stinking, villainous assassins and extortionists who now occupy it. No accord was possible, and the conditions seemed iniquitous to both the parties. So no accord was reached. They did, however, remain less severe and more gentle enemies than in the past. But since the proclamation of National Concile de Chésil by which they were provoked, harassed and cited, and in which Quarêmeprenant was proclaimed shitty, shabby and stinky if ever he made an alliance or any sort of agreement with them, they have grown dreadfully bitter, envenomed, incensed and intractable: there is no remedy to be found. More easily would it be to bring cat and rat, or hound and hare together, than them to re-concile.’
How an ambush was laid against Pantagruel by the Chidlings of the Ile Farouche
CHAPTER 36
[Chidlings often come linked in pairs: so they are ‘double’ (and so not to be trusted). They are excellent fighters, though: behind these meaty figures of fun – the very antithesis of Lent and Quarêmeprenant – may be glimpsed brave Swiss and German soldiery won over to the Reformation. As enemies of Quarêmeprenant they ought to be natural allies of the Pantagruelists.]
While Xenomanes was speaking, Frère Jean espied twenty-five to thirty lean young Chidlings withdrawing at great speed towards their city, citadel, castle and redoubt of Chimneys. He said to Pantagruel, ‘I can foresee some assing about. Those worthy Chidlings could perhaps mistake you for Quarêmeprenant, even though you in no wise resemble him. Let us break off feasting here and be ready for our duty to resist them.’
‘That would be not at all a bad thing to do,’ said Xenomanes: ‘Chidlings are Chidlings: always double and treacherous.’
At which Pantagruel rose from the table to spy out the land beyond the woodland grove; he quickly returned and informed us that he had definitely discovered to the left an ambush set up by the podgy Chidlings, whilst to the right, about half a league from where they were, one full battalion of different, powerful and gigantic Chidlings were in battle order, marching furiously towards them along a small hill to the sound of bagpipes and flutes, merry fifes and tabors, trumpets and bugles. Judging from the seventy-eight standards which he counted we estimated their numbers to be not less than forty-two thousand.
The good order which they kept, their proud step and their confident expressions led us to believe that they were not Meat-Bail rookies but veteran Chidlings, war-hardened female warriors. From their front ranks back towards their standard-bearers they were all fully armed, bearing pikes which seemed small to us at a distance but were certainly well pointed and sharpened; they were flanked on their wings by a large number of Sylvan Puddings, massive crusted Pies and mounted Sausages, all very well-built island folk, wild and fierce.
Pantagruel was deeply disturbed. Not without reason, though Epistemon argued that the practice and custom of these Chidling-lands might well be to greet and receive their foreign friends in such a fashion with a parade of arms; just as the noble kings of France are welcomed and saluted by all the loyal towns of the kingdom on their first formal Entries into them after their sacring, upon newly acceding to the throne.
‘Perhaps,’ he said, ‘they are the regular Guards of the Queen of this land, who, being warned by the young Chidlings of the Watch whom you saw up that tree how your beautiful and majestic fleet had swept into their harbour, realized that some great and puissant prince was aboard and came to greet you in person.’
Pantagruel, remaining unconvinced, called his counsel in order to hear their summary advice on what should be done in this crisis, where hope was unsure and danger evident. He then pointed out how such practices of greeting under arms had often brought mortal danger under colour of a warm welcome and friendliness.
‘It was thus,’ he said, ‘that, on one occasion, the Emperor Antoninus Caracalla massacred the Athenians and on another occasion, overcame the retinue of Artaban, the King of Persia, under the false pretence of wanting to marry his daughter. That did not go unpunished: he lost his life there soon afterwards.
‘Thus did the sons of Jacob slaughter the Sichemists to wreak revenge for the rape of their sister Dinah. In that hypocritical fashion the soldiers within Constantinople were killed by Gallienus, the Roman Emperor; thus too, under pretence of friendship, Antoninus invited Artavasdes, the King of Armenia, and then had him bound, placed in heavy fetters and finally murdered.
‘We find hundreds of similar cases in the ancient muniments. And to this day Charles, the Sixth King of France of that name, is rightly and greatly praised for his wisdom: for, when returning to his goodly town of Paris after his victory over the men of Flanders and of Ghent, he learnt at Le Bourget that the Parisians, to the number of twenty thousand fighting-men, had marched out of the Town in battle array, all armed with mallets (maillots, hence their name of Maillotins). Although they protested that they had, without deceit or ill-will, thus taken up arms to welcome him more honourably, he would not make his entry before they had gone back to their homes and disarmed.’
How Pantagruel sent for Colonels Poke-Banger and Spoilchidling, with a notable disquisition on the proper names of places and persons
CHAPTER 37
[The Captains are given meaningful names in a comic application of the theories of the Cratylus and of the meaningful prophecies from proper names in the Homeric and Virgilian lots in Chapter 10 of the Third Book. Then serious examples follow, both ancient and modern.
The general context is a renewed sympathy for Pythagorean symbolism encouraged in Rabelais by the works of Calcagnini and by many adages of Erasmus, as well as by the authoritative learned legal works of André Tiraqueau.
While Joshua fought, Moses, as instructed by God, kept his arms held aloft, so assuring God’s interv
ention into the fighting (Exodus 17:8ff.).]
Their council resolved that they should remain on the qui-vive whatever happened.
Then Carpalim and Gymnaste (at the command of Pantagruel) were to summon the marines who were aboard The Golden Carafe (commander: Colonel Spoilchidling) and The Golden Grape-hod (commander: Colonel Poke-Banger the Younger).
‘I will relieve Gymnaste of that chore,’ said Panurge. ‘Besides, you need him here.’
‘By my cloth, you old Bollock,’ said Frère Jean, ‘you mean to steer clear of the fight and never come back. He’s no great loss. All he’d do would be to blubber, moan and wail, disheartening our fine soldiers.’
‘I,’ said Panurge, ‘shall certainly be back again soon, Frère Jean my spiritual Father, but do please arrange for those beastly Chidlings not to scramble on to our ships. While you’re doing the fighting I shall be praying for you, following the example of that knightly captain Moses, the Leader of the people of Israel.’
‘If those Chidlings should chance to assault us,’ said Epistemon to Pantagruel, ‘the names of your two colonels, Spoilchidling and Poke-Banger, augur assurance, good luck and victory for us in the conflict.’
‘You have grasped it well,’ said Pantagruel, ‘and it pleases me that you should foresee and predict our victory from the names of those two colonels. Such predicting from proper names is no novelty: it was formerly made famous by the Pythagoreans, who religiously observed it. Many great lords and emperors of old have profitably used it:
Gargantua and Pantagruel Page 78
