The second book of the works of Mr. Francis Rabelais, Doctor in Physick treating of the heroick deeds and sayings of the good Pantagruel. Written originally in the French tongue, and now faithfully translated into English. By S.T.U.C.

CHAP. XXXIV. The Conclusion of this present Book, and the excuse of the Author. (Book 34)

NOw (my Masters) you have heard a beginning of the horrifick history of my Lord and Master Pantagruel: Here will I make an end of the first book; My head akes a little, and I perceive that the Regi∣sters of my braine, are somewhat jumbled and disordered with this septembral juice. You shall have the rest of the history at Franckfort mart next coming, and there shall you see how Panurge was married and made a Cuckold within a moneth after his wed∣ding: how Pantagruel found out the Philo∣sophers stone, the manner how he found it, and the way how to use it: how he past o∣ver the Caspian mountaines, and how he sailed thorough the Atlantick sea, defeated the Cannibals, and conquered the isles of Perles, how he married the daughter of the King of India, called Presian, how he fought against the devil, and burnt up five cham∣bers of hell, ransacked the great black chamber, threw Proserpina into the fire,

broke five teeth to Lucifer, and the horne that was in his arse. How he visited the re∣gions of the Moon, to know whether in∣deed the Moon were not entire and whole, or if the women had three quarters of it in their heads, and a thousand other little mer∣riments all veritable. These are brave things truly; Good night, Gentlemen, Perdonate mi, and think not so much upon my faults, that you forget your own. If you say to me, (Master) it would seem that you were not ve∣ry wise in writing to us these flimflam stories, and pleasant fooleries:

I answer you, that you are not much wi∣ser to spend your time in reading them: ne∣verthelesse, if you read them to make your selves merry, as in manner of pastime I wrote them, you and I both are farre more worthy of pardon, then a great rabble of squint-minded fellowes, dissembling and counterfeit Saints, demure lookers, hypo∣crites, pretended zealots, tough Fryars, bus∣kin-Monks, and other such sects of men, who disguise themselves like Maskers to de∣ceive the world, for whilest they give the common people to understand, that they are busied about nothing but contemplati∣on and devotion in fastings, and maceration of their sensuality; and that only to sustain and aliment the small frailty of their humani∣ty: It is so far otherwise, that on the contrary

(God knows) what cheer they make, Et Curios simulant, sed bacchanalia vivunt. You may reade it in great letters, in the colouring of their red snowts, and gulching bellies as big as a tun, unlesse it be when they per∣fume themselves with sulphur; as for their study it is wholly taken up in reading of Pan∣tagruelin books, not so much to passe the time merrily, as to hurt some one or other mis∣chievously, to wit, in articling, sole-articling, wry-neckifying, buttock▪ stirring, ballocking, and diabliculating, that is, calumniating; wherein they are like unto the poor rogues of a village, that are busie in stirring up and scra∣ping in the ordure and filth of little children, in the season of cherries and guinds, and that only to finde the kernels, that they may sell them to the druggists, to make thereof po∣mander-oile Fly from these men, abhorre and hate them as much as I do, and upon my faith you will finde your selves the better for it. And if you desire to be good Pantagru∣el sts (that is to say, to live in peace, joy, health, making your selves alwayes merry) never trust those men that alwayes peep out at one hole.

The End of the Second Book of Rabelais.

FINIS.