Upon a certain day, I know not when, Pantagruel walking after supper with some of his fellow-students… encountered with a young spruce-like scholar that was coming upon the same very way, and, after they had saluted one another, asked him thus, My friend, from whence comest thou now?
The scholar answered him, From the alme, inclyte, and celebrate academy, which is vocitated Lutetia.
What is the meaning of this? said Pantagruel to one of his men. It is, answered he, from Paris.
Thou comest from Paris then, said Pantagruel; and how do you spend your time there, you my masters the students of Paris?
The scholar answered, We transfretate the Sequan at the dilucul and crepuscul; we deambulate by the compites and quadrives of the urb; we despumate the Latial verbocination; and, like verisimilary amorabons, we captat the benevolence of the omnijugal, omniform and omnigenal feminine sex.
Upon certain diecules we invisat the lupanares, and in a venerian ecstasy inculcate our veretres into the penitissime recesses of the pudends of these amicabilissim meretricules. Then do we cauponisate in the meritory taberns of the Pineapple, the Castle, the Magdalene, and the Mule, goodly vervecine spatules perforaminated with petrocile.
And if by fortune there be rarity or penury of pecune in our marsupies, and that they be exhausted of ferruginean metal, for the shot we dimit our codices and oppignerat our vestments, whilst we prestolate the coming of the tabellaries from the Penates and patriotic Lares.
To which Pantagruel answered, What devilish language is this? By the Lord, I think thou art some kind of heretick.
Book II, chapter 6. You’ll be glad to know the soi-disant Parisian gets his comeuppance, and lapses at last into his native dialect.