the strange things pantagruel did as a baby.
gargantua hardly knew whether he ought to cry because his beloved queen badebec was dead, or laugh because his son pantagruel was alive.
"my good wife is dead, who was the most this and the most that, which ever was in the world," he would blubber at one time. "ha! badebec, my wife, i shall never see thee again! thou hast left me, my pet, forever! ah! my poor pantagruel, thou hast lost thy good mother, thy sweet nurse. holos!"
the poor giant burst into tears, which flowed down his cheeks as large as ostrich-eggs, and he cried like a cow. then his humor would change, and he fell to laughing like a calf.
"ho! ho! my little son, how pretty thou art, and how grateful i should be to god that he has given me such a son. ho! ho! ho! how glad i am! let us drink! throw melancholy out of the window; bring here the best wines; rinse the glasses; lay the cloth; drive away the dogs; blow up that fire; light the candles; shut the door; skim the soup; call in the beggars, and give them what they want! i ought to be happy,—i am happy. ho! ho! ho!"
poor old giant! he was very proud, but he was very wretched all the same.
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the funeral of queen badebec.
it would be a wonderful thing to tell how quickly pantagruel grew in body and in strength. all the old-world talk about "hercules in his cradle killing the two serpents" was nothing to boast of, because his snakes happened to be both small and weak. but pantagruel, in his cradle, did things much more astonishing. just think of his needing, as a baby, at every meal, the milk of four thousand six hundred cows! when it became necessary to order a kettle for him in which to boil his milk it took all the braziers of saumure, in anjou; of villedieu, in normandy; of bramart, in lorraine, to make it. they used to give him soup in a great bell, which was long to be seen at bruges, in berry, near the palace, with a hole in it. how did that hole ever get there? why, in the easiest way possible! baby pantagruel's teeth were already so big, and sharp, and strong, that, in his eagerness to get at the broth, he made a quick snap at the metal and broke through it, as though it were as flimsy as an egg-shell.
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pantagruel's porringer.
another morning, at daybreak, when one of the four thousand six hundred cows, which gave him his principal food, was brought in to give him his breakfast, pantagruel burst the bands which bound his arms, and caught hold of that poor cow to eat her alive; and he would have, without doubt, eaten her all up if she hadn't bellowed as loudly as though a pack of wolves were just at that moment striking their teeth in her legs. at the poor cow's cries, everybody ran up and released her from the giant baby's awful teeth. such an offence as trying to eat alive an innocent cow, which had done her best, among her four thousand five hundred and ninety-nine companions, to give him milk, could not pass unnoticed. gargantua, although, away down in his own heart, he was proud of his little son's strength, grew very much afraid that, in some of his antics, he might hurt himself. he at once ordered pantagruel to be bound to the cradle with great cables, and directed that, on no account, he should be allowed to get free from them. here, then, was our poor pantagruel in a bad fix! baby as he was, he often felt very wretched; but never more wretched than when a great, shaggy bear, which was a special pet of his father, made it a point of politeness to drop in every day and, with his dirty tongue, to lick his face, which, on the other hand, the wise women made a point never to touch. that bear came once too often. pantagruel, being in a bad humor one particular day, and feeling the rough, furred tongue licking all over and over his face, gave one tremendous jerk, and broke his chains as easily as samson had broken those of the philistines. then he stretched out his hairy hands, and caught master bear, and tore him into pieces with as much ease as he might have done a chicken.
this new exploit made gargantua still prouder of his son; but it was high time that something should be done with him. so he ordered to be made four great iron chains to hold him fast. one day a feast was given by king gargantua in honor of the princes and nobles of his court. it is pretty clear that all the great people, not to speak of the servants, had their time so well taken with the feast, that nobody ever thought it his business to bother himself about the little prince, away upstairs in the nursery. if pantagruel hated any one thing above another, that one thing was to be left by himself. what made it all the worse this time was that there he was in his cradle, closely chained, and obliged to listen to the gay sounds that swelled up, every now and then, from the dining-room. the poor child felt lonely. he tried to burst the chains which bound his arms to his cradle; but that he couldn't do, because they had been forged too strong and stout by the royal blacksmith. then he began such a stamping with his feet that he broke the foot-board of his cradle, which was made of a great beam seven feet square. the moment he had succeeded in getting his feet quite out of the broken end, he slid forward as far as the chains would let him, until at last his feet touched the floor. then, with a great wrench, he raised himself on his feet, bearing his cradle triumphantly on his back, which made him look for all the world like a turtle, with his shell, trying to climb a wall.
such was the strange sight which, on presenting itself in the banqueting hall, startled the gay company. pantagruel walked straight to the table, where he at first thought he would need no assistance; but he soon found himself obliged—not being, of course, able to use his hands—to lean forward, and lick up with his tongue any tidbit that he could find near the edge of the table. when his father saw how hungry he was, he knew well enough that his baby never would have broken through his cradle, and tramped down the stairs with it on his back, unless he had been left alone by his nurses. turning to the princes and lords present, he asked them if it was not better that his boy should be freed from those heavy chains.
the guests, with one voice, declared that the chains were an insult to the young prince; and even the first physician gave it as his opinion that, if pantagruel were to be kept any longer fastened in such a way to his cradle, he would all his life be a cripple.
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pantagruel carries his cradle.
the moment he was unchained pantagruel sat down at the table, and was made much of by every guest. such a welcome soon made him feel quite at home, and he showed it by breaking, with one blow of his fist, that ugly cradle into more than five hundred thousand pieces, vowing to himself—he couldn't well say the words—that he would never be found in it again—never! never! never!
