Then with mercury, with parsley, with nettles, with comfrey, but that gave me the bloody flux of Lombardy, which I healed by wiping me with my braguette.

Then I wiped my tail in the sheets, in the coverlet, in the curtains, with a cushion, with arras hangings, with a green carpet, with a table-cloth, with a napkin, with a handkerchief, with a combing-cloth; in all which I found more pleasure than do the mangy dogs when you rub them.

Yea, but, said Grangousier, which torchecul did you find to be the best?
I was coming to it, said Gargantua, and by-and-by shall you hear the tu autem, and know the whole mystery and knot of the matter.

I wiped myself with hay, with straw, with thatch-rushes, with flax, with wool, with paper, but, Who his foul tail with paper wipes, Shall at his ballocks leave some chips.
What, said Grangousier, my little rogue, hast thou been at the pot, that thou dost rhyme already?
Yes, yes, my lord the king, answered Gargantua, I can rhyme gallantly, and rhyme till I become hoarse with rheum.

Hark, what our privy says to the skiters: Shittard, Squirtard, Crackard, Turdous, Thy bung Hath flung Some dung On us: Filthard, Cackard, Stinkard, St.Antony's fire seize on thy toane (bone ?), If thy Dirty Dounby Thou do not wipe, ere thou be gone.
Will you have any more of it?
Yes, yes, answered Grangousier.