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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 952 pages of information about Gargantua and Pantagruel.

When we had crammed and crammed again, Aedituus took us into a chamber that was well furnished, hung with tapestry, and finely gilt.  Thither he caused to be brought store of mirobolans, cashou, green ginger preserved, with plenty of hippocras, and delicious wine.  With those antidotes, that were like a sweet Lethe, he invited us to forget the hardships of our voyage; and at the same time he sent plenty of provisions on board our ship that rid in the harbour.  After this, we e’en jogged to bed for that night; but the devil a bit poor pilgarlic could sleep one wink—­the everlasting jingle-jangle of the bells kept me awake whether I would or no.

About midnight Aedituus came to wake us that we might drink.  He himself showed us the way, saying:  You men of t’other world say that ignorance is the mother of all evil, and so far you are right; yet for all that you do not take the least care to get rid of it, but still plod on, and live in it, with it, and by it; for which a plaguy deal of mischief lights on you every day, and you are right enough served—­you are perpetually ailing somewhat, making a moan, and never right.  It is what I was ruminating upon just now.  And, indeed, ignorance keeps you here fastened in bed, just as that bully-rock Mars was detained by Vulcan’s art; for all the while you do not mind that you ought to spare some of your rest, and be as lavish as you can of the goods of this famous island.  Come, come, you should have eaten three breakfasts already; and take this from me for a certain truth, that if you would consume the mouth-ammunition of this island, you must rise betimes; eat them, they multiply; spare them, they diminish.

For example, mow a field in due season, and the grass will grow thicker and better; don’t mow it, and in a short time ’twill be floored with moss.  Let’s drink, and drink again, my friends; come, let’s all carouse it.  The leanest of our birds are now singing to us all; we’ll drink to them, if you please.  Let’s take off one, two, three, nine bumpers.  Non zelus, sed caritas.

When day, peeping in the east, made the sky turn from black to red like a boiling lobster, he waked us again to take a dish of monastical brewis.  From that time we made but one meal, that only lasted the whole day; so that I cannot well tell how I may call it, whether dinner, supper, nunchion, or after-supper; only, to get a stomach, we took a turn or two in the island, to see and hear the blessed singing-birds.

At night Panurge said to Aedituus:  Give me leave, sweet sir, to tell you a merry story of something that happened some three and twenty moons ago in the country of Chastelleraud.

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