CHAPTER LXXII.
IN WHICH WE MEET TWO IMPORTANT PERSONAGES WHOM WE HAVE LOST SIGHTOF FOR SOME TIME.
There are two of the personages mentioned in this story, aboutwhom the reader has the right to ask for information. We mean anenormous monk, with thick eyebrows and large lips, whose neck wasdiminishing every day; and a large donkey whose sides were graduallyswelling out like a balloon. The monk resembled a hogshead; andthe ass was like a child's cradle, supported by four posts.
The one inhabited a cell at St. Genevieve, and the other thestable at the same convent. The one was called Gorenflot, andthe other Panurge. Both were enjoying the most prosperous lotthat ever fell to a monk and an ass.
The monks surrounded their illustrious brother with cares andattentions, and Panurge fared well for his master's sake.
If a missionary arrived from foreign countries, or a secret legatefrom the Pope, they pointed out to him Brother Gorenflot, thatdouble model of the church preaching and militant; they showedGorenflot in all his glory, that is to say, in the midst of afeast, seated at a table in which a hollow had been cut on purposefor his sacred stomach, and they related with a noble pride thatGorenflot consumed the rations of eight ordinary monks. And whenthe newcomer had piously contemplated this spectacle, the priorwould say, "See how he eats! And if you had but heard his sermonone famous night, in which he offered to devote himself for thetriumph of the faith. It is a mouth which speaks like that ofSt. Chrysostom, and swallows like that of Gargantua."
Every time that any one spoke of the sermon, Gorenflot sighedand said:
"What a pity I did not write it!
"A man like you has no need to write," the prior would reply."No, you speak from inspiration; you open your mouth, and thewords of God flow from your lips."
"Do you think so?" sighed Gorenflot.
However, Gorenflot was not perfectly happy. He, who at firstthought his banishment from the convent an immense misfortune,discovered in his exile infinite joys before unknown to him. Hesighed for liberty; liberty with Chicot, the joyous companion,with Chicot, whom he loved without knowing why. Since his returnto the convent, he had never been allowed to go out. He neverattempted to combat this decision, but he grew sadder from dayto day. The prior saw this, and at last said to him:
"My dear brother, no one can fight against his vocation; yoursis to fight for the faith; go then, fulfil your mission, onlywatch well over your precious life, and return for the greatday."
"What great day?"
"That of the Fete Dieu."
"Ita," replied Gorenflot; it was the only Latin word he knew,and used it on all occasions. "But give me some money to bestowin alms in a Christian manner."
"You have your text, have you not, dear brother?"
"Yes, certainly."
"Confide it to me."
"Willingly, but to you alone; it is this: 'The flail which threshesthe corn.'"
"Oh, magnificent! sublime!" cried the prior.
"Now, my father, am I free?"
"Yes, my son, go and walk in the way of the Lord."
Gorenflot saddled Panurge, mounted him with the aid of two vigorousmonks, and left the convent about seven in the evening. It wasthe same day on which St. Luc arrived at Paris from Meridor.
Gorenflot, having passed through the Rue St. Etienne, was goingto have turned to the right, when suddenly Panurge stopped; astrong hand was laid on his croup.
"Who is there?" cried Gorenflot, in terror.
"A friend."
Gorenflot tried to turn, but he could not.
"What do you want?" said he.
"Will my venerable brother show me the way to the Corne d'Abondance?"
"Morbleu! it is M. Chicot," cried Gorenflot, joyfully.
"Just so; I was going to seek you at the convent, when I sawyou come out, and followed you until we were alone. Ventre debiche! how thin you are!"
"But what are you carrying, M. Chicot?" said the monk, "you appearladen."
"It is some venison which I have stolen from the king."
"Dear M. Chicot! and under the other arm?"
"A bottle of Cyprus wine sent by a king to my king."
"Let me see!"
"It is my wine, and I love it much; do not you, brother?"
"Oh! oh!" cried Gorenflot, raising his eyes and hands to Heaven,and beginning to sing in a voice which shook the neighboringwindows. It was the first time he had sung for a month.