r
you go; what you desire; and what your name is. The companion answered him
in the German (The first edition reads "Dutch.") tongue, thus:

'Junker, Gott geb euch gluck und heil. Furwahr, lieber Junker, ich lasz
euch wissen, das da ihr mich von fragt, ist ein arm und erbarmlich Ding,
und wer viel darvon zu sagen, welches euch verdrussig zu horen, und mir zu
erzelen wer, wiewol die Poeten und Oratorn vorzeiten haben gesagt in ihren
Spruchen und Sentenzen, dasz die gedechtniss des Elends und Armuth
vorlangst erlitten ist eine grosse Lust.' My friend, said Pantagruel, I
have no skill in that gibberish of yours; therefore, if you would have us
to understand you, speak to us in some other language. Then did the droll
answer him thus:

'Albarildim gotfano dechmin brin alabo dordio falbroth ringuam albaras.
Nin portzadikin almucatin milko prin alelmin en thoth dalheben ensouim;
kuthim al dum alkatim nim broth dechoth porth min michais im endoth, pruch
dalmaisoulum hol moth danfrihim lupaldas in voldemoth. Nin hur diavosth
mnarbotim dalgousch palfrapin duch im scoth pruch galeth dal chinon, min
foulchrich al conin brutathen doth dal prin.' Do you understand none of
this? said Pantagruel to the company. I believe, said Epistemon, that this
is the language of the Antipodes, and such a hard one that the devil
himself knows not what to make of it. Then said Pantagruel, Gossip, I know
not if the walls do comprehend the meaning of your words, but none of us
here doth so much as understand one syllable of them. Then said my blade
again:

'Signor mio, voi vedete per essempio, che la cornamusa non suona mai,
s'ella non ha il ventre pieno. Cosi io parimente non vi saprei contare le
mie fortune, se prima il tribulato ventre non ha la solita refettione. Al
quale e adviso che le mani et li denti habbiano perso il loro ordine
naturale et del tutto annichilati.' To which Epistemon answered, As much
of the one as of the other, and nothing of either. Then said Panurge:

'Lord, if you be so virtuous of intelligence as you be naturally relieved
to the body, you should have pity of me. For nature hath made us equal,
but fortune hath some exalted and others deprived; nevertheless is virtue
often deprived and the virtuous men despised; for before the last end none
is good.' (The following is the passage as it stands in the first edition.
Urquhart seems to have rendered Rabelais' indifferent English into worse
Scotch, and this, wit