Wife is dead, who was the most this, the most that, that ever was in the World: Never shall I see her, never shall I recover such another; it is unto me an inestimable Loss! O my good God, what had I done that thou shouldst thus punish me? Why didst thou not take me away before her? seeing for me to live without her, is but to languish. Ah, Badebec, Badebec, my Minion, my dear Heart, my Pigsney, my Duck, my Honey, my little C— (yet it hath in Circumference full six Acres, three Rods, five Poles, four Yards, two Feet, one Inch and a half of good Woodland Measure) my ten∣der Peggy, my Codpiece-Darling, my bob and hit, my Slipshoe-Lovy, never shall I see thee! Ah, poor Pantagruel, thou hast lost thy good Mother, thy sweet Nurse, thy well-beloved Lady! O false Death, how injurious and de∣spightful hast thou been to me? How mali∣cious and outragious have I found thee, in taking her from me, my well-beloved Wife, who should of right have been immortal?
With these words he did cry like a Cow, but on a sudden fell a laughing like a Calf, when Pantagruel came into his Mind. Ha, my lit∣tle Son (said he) my Childilolly, Fedlifondy, Dandlichucky, my Ballocky, my pretty Rogue; O how jolly thou art, and how much am I bound to my gracious God, that hath been pleased to bestow on me a Son so fair, so sprite∣ful, so lively, so smiling, so pleasant, and so gentle. Ho, ho, ho, ho, how glad I am? Let