How Panurge served a Parisian lady a trick that pleased
her not very well.
Now you must note that the next day was the great
festival of Corpus Christi, called the Sacre, wherein
all women put on their best apparel, and on that day
the said lady was clothed in a rich gown of crimson
satin, under which she wore a very costly white velvet
petticoat.
The day of the eve, called the vigil, Panurge searched
so long of one side and another that he found a hot
or salt bitch, which, when he had tied her with his
girdle, he led to his chamber and fed her very well
all that day and night. In the morning thereafter
he killed her, and took that part of her which the
Greek geomancers know, and cut it into several small
pieces as small as he could. Then, carrying
it away as close as might be, he went to the place
where the lady was to come along to follow the procession,
as the custom is upon the said holy day; and when
she came in Panurge sprinkled some holy water on her,
saluting her very courteously. Then, a little
while after she had said her petty devotions, he sat
down close by her upon the same bench, and gave her
this roundelay in writing, in manner as followeth.
A Roundelay.
For this one time, that I to you my love
Discovered, you did too cruel prove,
To send me packing, hopeless, and so soon,
Who never any wrong to you had done,
In any kind of action, word, or thought:
So that, if my suit liked you not, you
ought
T’ have spoke more civilly, and
to this sense,
My friend, be pleased to depart from hence,
For this one time.
What hurt do I, to wish you to remark,
With favour and compassion, how a spark
Of your great beauty hath inflamed my
heart
With deep affection, and that, for my
part,
I only ask that you with me would dance
The brangle gay in feats of dalliance,
For this one time?
And, as she was opening this paper to see what it
was, Panurge very promptly and lightly scattered the
drug that he had upon her in divers places, but especially
in the plaits of her sleeves and of her gown.
Then said he unto her, Madam, the poor lovers are
not always at ease. As for me, I hope that those
heavy nights, those pains and troubles, which I suffer
for love of you, shall be a deduction to me of so much
pain in purgatory; yet, at the least, pray to God
to give me patience in my misery. Panurge had
no sooner spoke this but all the dogs that were in
the church came running to this lady with the smell
of the drugs that he had strewed upon her, both small
and great, big and little, all came, laying out their
member, smelling to her, and pissing everywhere upon
her—it was the greatest villainy in the
world. Panurge made the fashion of driving them
away; then took his leave of her and withdrew himself
into some chapel or oratory of the said church to
