The Pomme-de-Pin, the Castel, the Magdaleine, and the Mule, those “capital caverns,” celebrated in Pantagruel’s conference with the Limosin student, which has conferred upon them an immortality like that of our own hostel, the Mermaid, were wholly neglected; the dice-box was laid aside for the nonce; and the well-used cards were thrust into the doublets of these thirsty tipplers of the schools.

But not alone did the crowd consist of the brawler, the gambler, the bully, and the debauchee, though these, it must be confessed, predominated.  It was a grand medley of all sects and classes.  The modest demeanor of the retiring, pale-browed student was contrasted with the ferocious aspect and reckless bearing of his immediate neighbor, whose appearance was little better than that of a bravo.  The grave theologian and embryo ecclesiastic were placed in juxtaposition with the scoffing and licentious acolyte; while the lawyer in posse, and the law-breaker in esse, were numbered among a group whose pursuits were those of violence and fraud.

Various as were the characters that composed it, not less diversified were the costumes of this heterogeneous assemblage.  Subject to no particular regulations as to dress, or rather openly infracting them, if any such were attempted to be enforced—­each scholar, to whatever college he belonged, attired himself in such garments as best suited his taste or his finances.  Taking it altogether, the mob was neither remarkable for the fashion, nor the cleanliness of the apparel of its members.

From Rabelais we learn that the passion of play was so strongly implanted in the students of his day, that they would frequently stake the points of their doublets at tric-trac or troumadame; and but little improvement had taken place in their morals or manners some half-century afterward.  The buckle at their girdle—­the mantle on their shoulders—­the shirt to their back—­often stood the hazard of the die; and hence it not unfrequently happened, that a rusty pourpoint and ragged chausses were all the covering which the luckless dicers could enumerate, owing, no doubt, “to the extreme rarity and penury of money in their pouches.”

Round or square caps, hoods and cloaks of black, gray, or other sombre hue, were, however, the prevalent garb of the members of the university; but here and there might be seen some gayer specimen of the tribe, whose broad-brimmed, high-crowned felt hat and flaunting feather; whose puffed-out sleeves and exaggerated ruff—­with starched plaits of such amplitude that they had been not inappropriately named plats de Saint Jean-Baptiste, from the resemblance which the wearer’s head bore to that of the saint, when deposited in the charger of the daughter of Herodias—­were intended to ape the leading mode of the elegant court of their sovereign, Henri Trois.