Friday, 12 June 2009

Shelving error: WHR 5

This drawing of assorted devils is taken from the Prologue to the Second Book – ‘Treating of the heroick deeds and sayings of the good Pantagruel.’ That one on the right, biting his shoulder, reminds me of someone I know.

‘I therefore (your humble slave) being very willing to increase your solace and recreation a little more, do offer you for a Present another book of the same stamp, only that it is a little more reasonable and worthy of credit than the other was…
… And therefore, to make an end to this Prologue, even as I give myselfe to an hundred Pannier-fulls of faire devils, body and soul, tripes and guts, in case that I like so much as one single word in this whole History: After the like manner, St. Anthonies fire burne you; Mahoom’s disease whirle you; the squinance with a stitch in your side, and the Wolfe in your stomach trusse you, the bloody flux seize you, the curst sharp inflammations of wild fire, as slender and thin as Cowes haire, strengthened with quick silver, enter your fundament, and like those of Sodom and Gomorrah, may you fall into sulphur, fire and bottomlesse pits, in case you do not firmly beleeve all that I shall relate unto you in this present Chronicle.’

2 comments:

Susie said...

After reading your posts on Heath Robinson's illustrations I remembered there was a pair of Rabelais books sitting in my bookcase that I had borrowed from my parents to look at but hadn't got round to yet. Sure enough they're the very same ones you're talking about. Would you like me to try to scan the illustrations in high resolution?

(PS - love the blog. Have lurked around far too long without commenting. Sorry!)

nonstickplans said...

That's very kind, Susie, but I think it's best not to abuse your parents' treasures. The trouble with scanning old books (or new ones) is that it can damage the spines. Thanks very much for the offer though.

Glad you enjoy Non-stick. I too lurk around blogs without commenting so I can hardly complain. I attempted to lurk around your own but it was a bit like standing in an empty field - you should plant something.