large deep bowl full of excellent claret with these
words—Fair and softly, gossip, you suck
up as if you were mad —I give thee to the
devil, said he; thou hast not found here thy little
tippling sippers of Paris, that drink no more than
the little bird called a spink or chaffinch, and never
take in their beakful of liquor till they be bobbed
on the tails after the manner of the sparrows.
O companion! if I could mount up as well as I can
get down, I had been long ere this above the sphere
of the moon with Empedocles. But I cannot tell
what a devil this means. This wine is so good
and delicious, that the more I drink thereof the more
I am athirst. I believe that the shadow of my
master Pantagruel engendereth the altered and thirsty
men, as the moon doth the catarrhs and defluxions.
At which word the company began to laugh, which Pantagruel
perceiving, said, Panurge, what is that which moves
you to laugh so? Sir, said he, I was telling
them that these devilish Turks are very unhappy in
that they never drink one drop of wine, and that though
there were no other harm in all Mahomet’s Alcoran,
yet for this one base point of abstinence from wine
which therein is commanded, I would not submit myself
unto their law. But now tell me, said Pantagruel,
how you escaped out of their hands. By G—,
sir, said Panurge, I will not lie to you in one word.
The rascally Turks had broached me upon a spit all
larded like a rabbit, for I was so dry and meagre
that otherwise of my flesh they would have made but
very bad meat, and in this manner began to roast me
alive. As they were thus roasting me, I recommended
myself unto the divine grace, having in my mind the
good St. Lawrence, and always hoped in God that he
would deliver me out of this torment. Which
came to pass, and that very strangely. For as
I did commit myself with all my heart unto God, crying,
Lord God, help me! Lord God, save me! Lord
God, take me out of this pain and hellish torture,
wherein these traitorous dogs detain me for my sincerity
in the maintenance of thy law! The roaster or
turnspit fell asleep by the divine will, or else by
the virtue of some good Mercury, who cunningly brought
Argus into a sleep for all his hundred eyes.
When I saw that he did no longer turn me in roasting,
I looked upon him, and perceived that he was fast
asleep. Then took I up in my teeth a firebrand
by the end where it was not burnt, and cast it into
the lap of my roaster, and another did I throw as
well as I could under a field-couch that was placed
near to the chimney, wherein was the straw-bed of
my master turnspit. Presently the fire took
hold in the straw, and from the straw to the bed, and
from the bed to the loft, which was planked and ceiled
with fir, after the fashion of the foot of a lamp.
But the best was, that the fire which I had cast
into the lap of my paltry roaster burnt all his groin,
and was beginning to cease (seize) upon his cullions,
when he became sensible of the danger, for his smelling
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