DO WHAT THOU WILT;
Because men that are free, well-borne, well-bred, and conversant in honest companies, have naturally an instinct and spurre that prompteth them unto vertuous actions, and withdraws them from vice, which is called honour. Those same men when by base subjection and constraint they are brought under and kept down, turn aside from that noble disposition, by which they formerly were inclined to vertue, to shake off and break that bond of servitude, wherein they are so tyrannously inslaved; for it is agreeable with the nature of man to long after things forbidden, and to desire what is denied us.[242]
"By this liberty they entered into a very laudable emulation, to do all of them what they saw did please one. If any of the gallants or ladies should say, Let us drink, they would all drink. If any one of them said, Let us play, they all played. If one said, Let us go a-walking into the fields, they went all. If it were to go a-hawking or a-hunting, the ladies mounted upon dainty, well-paced nags, seated in a stately palfrey saddle,[243] carried on their lovely fists, miniardly begloved every one of them, either a sparhawk, or a laneret, or a marlin, and the young gallants carried the other kinds of hawkes. So nobly were they taught, that there was neither he nor she amongst them but could read, write, sing, play upon several musical instruments, speak five or sixe several languages, and compose in them all very quaintly, both in verse and prose. Never were seen so valiant knights, so noble and worthy, so dextrous and skilful both on foot and a horseback, more brisk and lively, more nimble and quick, or better handling all manner of weapons then [than] were there. Never were seene ladies so proper[244] and handsome, so miniard and dainty, lesse froward, or more ready with their hand, and with their needle, in every honest and free action belonging to that sexe, then [than] were there. For this reason, when the time came, that any man of the said abbey, either at the request of his parents, or for some other cause, had a minde to go out of it, he carried along with him one of the ladies, namely, her whom he had before that chosen for his mistris,[245] and [they] were married together. And if they had formerly in Theleme lived in good devotion and amity, they did continue therein and increase it to a greater height in their state of matrimony: and did entertaine that mutual love till the very last day of their life, in no lesse vigour and fervency, then [than] at the very day of their wedding."[246]
Such is the dream which floated before the mind of Rabelais, but, unhappily, it is still an airy fancy, and has never received a local habitation and a name. Mrs Grundy, the vegetarians, the teetotallers, the anti-tobacco people, and the enemies of "rational costume" have up to the present forbidden the erection of any such building.
One of the most prominent figures in the story of Pantagruel is his favourite, Panurge, who is a rogue, a drunkard, a coward, and a malicious scoundrel, but who yet, like Falstaff, in spite of all his moral deficiencies, manages to appear as an amusing personage. Into his lips is put, with a fine disregard of congruity, an eloquent speech, which begins in praise of debt, and ends by setting forth the interdependence of all things in the universe. Panurge is represented as having threescore and three ways of making money, and two hundred and fourteen of spending it, so that he is always poor, and his sovereign Pantagruel remonstrates with him on account of his prodigal habits.
He replies as follows: "Be still indebted to somebody or other, that there may be somebody always to pray for you; [to pray] that the giver of all good things may grant unto you a blessed, long, and prosperous life; fearing, if fortune should deal crossly with you, that it might be his chance to come short of being paid by you, he will always speak good of you in every company, ever and anon purchase new creditors unto you; to the end, that through their means you may make a shift by borrowing from Peter to pay Paul,[247] and with other folk's earth fill up his ditch. When of old in the region of the Gauls, by the institution of the Druids,[248] the servants, slaves, and bondmen were burnt quick at the funerals and obsequies of their lords and masters, had not they fear enough, think you, that their lords and masters should die? For, per force, they were to die with them for company. Did not they uncessantly send up their supplications to their great God Mercury,[249] as likewise unto Dis, the Father of Wealth,[250] to lengthen out their days, and preserve them long in health? Were not they very careful to entertain them well, punctually to look unto them, and to attend them faithfully and circumspectly? For by those means were they to live together at least until the hour of death. Believe me your creditors with a more fervent devotion will beseech [Providence] to prolong your life, they being of nothing more afraid than that you should die.... I, in this only respect and consideration of being a debtor, esteem myself worshipful, reverend, and formidable. For, against the opinion of most philosophers, that of nothing ariseth nothing, yet, without having bottomed on so much as that which is called the First Matter [Primary Matter], did I out of nothing become such [a] maker and creator, that I have created—what?—a gay number of fair and jolly creditors. Nay, creditors, I will maintain it, even to the very fire itself exclusively,[251] are fair and goodly creatures. Who lendeth nothing is an ugly and wicked creature.... You can hardly imagine how glad I am, when every morning I perceive myself environed and surrounded with brigades of creditors,—humble, fawning, and full of their reverences. And whilst I remark that, as I look more favourably upon, and give a chearfuller countenance to one than to the other, the fellow thereupon buildeth a conceit that he shall be the first dispatched, and the foremost in the date of payment; and he valueth my smiles at the rate of ready money.... I have all my lifetime held debt to be as an union or conjunction of the heavens with the earth, and the whole cement whereby the race of mankind is kept together;[252] yea, of such vertue and efficacy, that, I say, the whole progeny of Adam would very suddenly perish without it."
He then goes on to describe a world in which there are no debtors and no debts. There will be no regular course among the planets, but all will be in disorder. Jupiter, reckoning himself to be nothing indebted to Saturn, will go near to thrust him out of his place; Saturn and Mars will combine to promote the confusion; Mercury, being debtor to no one, will no longer serve any; Venus, because she shall have lent nothing, will no longer be venerated. "The moon," he says, "will remain bloody and obscure. For to what end should the sun impart unto her any of his light?[253] He owed her nothing. Nor yet will the sun shine upon the earth, nor the stars send down any good influence,[254] because the terrestrial globe hath desisted from sending up their wonted nourishment by vapours and exhalations, wherewith Heraclitus said, the Stoicks proved, Cicero maintained, they were cherished and alimented.... No rain will descend upon the earth, nor light shine thereon; no wind will blow there, nor will there be in it any summer or harvest.... Such a world without lending will be no better than a dog-kennel, a place of contention and wrangling.... Men will not then salute one another; it will be but lost labour to expect aid or succour from any, or to cry fire, water, murther, for none will put to their helping hand. Why? He lent no money, there is nothing due to him. Nobody is concerned in his burning, in his shipwrack, in his ruine, or in his death; and that because he hitherto hath lent nothing, and would never thereafter have lent anything. In short, Faith, Hope, and Charity would be quite banish'd from such a world—for men are born to relieve and assist one another."
"But, on the contrary," he went on to say, "be pleased to represent unto your fancy another world, wherein every one lendeth, and everyone oweth, all are debtors, and all creditors. O how great will that harmony be, which shall thereby result from the regular motions of the heavens! Methinks I hear it every whit as well as ever Plato did.[255] What sympathy will there be amongst the elements! O how delectable then unto nature will be our own works and productions! Whilst Ceres appeareth loaden with corn, Bacchus with wines, Flora with flowers, Pomona with fruits, and Juno fair in a clear air, wholsom and pleasant. I lose myself in this high contemplation. Then will among the race of mankind, peace, love, benevolence, fidelity, tranquillity, rests, banquets, feastings, joy, gladness, gold, silver, single money [small change], chains, rings, with other ware, and chaffer of that nature, be found to trot from hand to hand. No suits at law, no wars, no strife, debate, nor wrangling; none will be there an usurer, none will be there a pinch-penny, a scrape-good wretch, or churlish hard-hearted refuser. Will not this be the golden age in the reign of Saturn?—the true idea of the Olympick regions, wherein all [other] vertues cease, charity alone ruleth, governeth, domineereth, and triumpheth? All will be fair and goodly people there, all just and vertuous. O happy world! O people of that world most happy! Yea, thrice and four times blessed is that people! I think in very deed that I am amongst them."[256]