And this was how King Anarchus got to be a Crier of Green Sauce.
Two days after this, Panurge married the little King with an old lantern-jawed hag. To have everything pass off gaily, and to make sure of good dancing, he hired a blind man to give the music. For their wedding-supper, he ordered fine sheep-heads, plenty of eels served with mustard, and tripe spiced with garlic. The drink was watered wine and fine cider.
Pantagruel gave the couple a little cottage in one of the side streets, and a stone-mortar in which to pound their sauce. Here they carried on their trade, and the little King might have been happier than when he lived in a palace and had Giants to guard him, but for his wife, who beat him in time as flat as a mummy.
When Pantagruel marched from the city, along the high road, he looked a grander and mightier Giant than ever. Every town and city surrendered to him as he drew near, and every noble of the country came to offer him homage. Only the city of the Almirodes held out; and that would have kept its gates shut to the end had it not been for a story its people happened to hear of the Giant and of an awful storm which came up one day, while he was on his way there with his army. There being no danger of his being drowned,—so the story ran,—Pantagruel put his big tongue half way out of his mouth and covered the whole army as snugly as a hen covers her chicks. When the people of the stubborn city heard that, they opened their gates wide!—wide!!—wide!!!—to let the Giant pass. "There is no use resisting such a man as that," everybody said.
GRANDER AND MIGHTIER THAN EVER.
And so ended the bad war which the Thirsty People had begun against the Utopians when their good King Gargantua had been carried to Fairy-land.
PANTAGRUEL RETURNS.
Pantagruel, having ended his tour through all the cities of his new Kingdom of Dipsodie, finally reached the Palace where he had been born, and on leaving which, one sad day, to go on his long journey to school, he had seen for the last time his dear and honored father. All these thoughts made the tender-hearted Giant sad; but he had no time for weeping. There were many wrongs in his own Kingdom of Utopia to make right. There were many rights to make strong. There were a thousand other things to do for his faithful people, who had at once proclaimed him King when Gargantua had been taken to Fairy-land,—even when he had been leagues upon leagues away.