He is the good Pan, the great shepherd, who, as the loving shepherd Corydon affirms, hath not only a tender love and affection for his sheep, but also for their shepherds.

At his death, complaints, sighs, fears, and lamentations were spread through the whole fabric of the universe, whether heavens, land, sea, or hell.
The time also concurs with this interpretation of mine; for this most good, most mighty Pan, our only Saviour, died near Jerusalem during the reign of Tiberius Caesar.
Pantagruel, having ended this discourse, remained silent and full of contemplation.

A little while after we saw the tears flow out of his eyes as big as ostrich's eggs.

God take me presently if I tell you one single syllable of a lie in the matter..