“Recipe, recipe, recipe, recipe senne,
Dragmas duas, dragmas duas, dragmas duas,
Semi-dragmum rhei electac,
Scrupulum unum polychresti,
Infundantur, percolentur, hauriantur,
Horâ sextâ matutinâ,
Recipe, recipe, recipe, etc.”
Two surgeons answered to that, _seca_; _ure_; that is to say, _cut_,
_burn_; and directly both joined in chorus—these repeating _recipe_, the
others _ure_, and the last dancing.
This troop having sat, there entered another composed of newsmongers, and
people who followed them to learn what was transacted abroad in England,
France, Holland, Italy, and other places. After these entered
solicitors, stewards of noble estates, soldiers, priests, and other
persons whom I did not know. This cavalcade was terminated by a woman of
monstrous stature, meagre, pale, and having a very extraordinary
equipage. Her head dress consisted of crowns, tiaras, electoral bonnets,
mitres, red and black hats, hats of straw, turbans, and bonnets of wool
and silk: upon one side of the head, she had her hair curled and
powdered; upon the other, shaven after the fashion of monks. Her robe
was tissue of thread, wool, and silk, ornamented with trimmings of gold
and silver, chaplets, precious stones, and pearls: she had upon her feet
and legs, shoes of iron, wood, and leather: she bore upon a sceptre, a
shepherd’s crook, a scythe, and a great club: she had one eye open, and
the other shut; and carried, pendant from her neck, a sand box, with
crosses of the order of Saint James, of the Holy Ghost, and the medals of
other military orders: her gait was alternately slow, then quick and
precipitate. She approached my bed, and said, “Arise, Chevalier, follow
me!”
“But, before I follow thee,” replied I, “inform me who you are.”
“I am _Death_,” answered she; “follow me!”
“Is it your pleasure, then, that I should die?”
“No, no! follow me, and leave behind thy garment; for a person is not to
be clothed when he follows Death. I will show you my empire, and my
subjects. I am the queen of queens, the empress of sovereigns, the
sovereign of the human race; and the powers of earth are but my
inspectors.”
“How!” exclaimed I, “dare you to say the king of Spain is your inspector?
he who possesses so many territories in the world?”
“Follow, follow,” said Death; “I will show you.”
Immediately all those who were there, went out in the same order they had
entered: Death following the rear of the procession, and I following
Death.
We traversed vast plains and deserts, which resembled cemeteries, or
fields of battle, covered with dead. Directly I perceived, at a
distance, an immense castle, built in the antique style; and when I had
drawn near, I observed that the materials were nothing but bones cemented
with blood and apothecaries’ drugs. The three porters in the court were
very pleasant to the sight. The first resembled a harlequin assuming
divers attitudes, and having upon his habits the figures of kingdoms and
provinces of the earth; in such a fashion, indeed, that I seemed to look
upon a geographical map: his name was the _World_. The second, who
called himself the _Flesh_, was naked, like those figures of Priapus one
sees upon medals. The third was armed, _cap a pie_, in gold and silver,
like a curassier. They told me those three guards were the enemies of
the world, and the porters of Death. The pavement of the court was of
human sculls, as well as that of the chambers: these sculls were arranged
in such a manner, that they resembled a chess board; some being white,
and others, having the hair upon them, appeared black. In the middle of
this court was a fountain of tears: the figures about the basin,
represented Uneasiness, Envy, Jealousy, Despair, Knavery, Sickness,
Medicine, War, Revenge, and Love. The tapestries of the chambers were
all upon particular subjects. One might see in one piece, people
contracting marriage; in another, lawyers pleading a case; in this,
merchants preparing for bankruptcy; in that, _honest_ thieves upon the
grand tour, stripping the peasantry. The others represented an
ecclesiastic, who, dying in his bed, has, in his last moments, the
satisfaction of seeing his house pillaged; a courier riding from Madrid
to Rome, to solicit a benefice; a tiler falling from the roof of a house;
a drunken sailor precipitating himself from his vessel into the sea; a
house burning with such rapidity, that its master is consumed in the
flames; in fine, one might there perceive every species of human death.
But none of these impressed me with so much horror, as the paintings in
fresco under the grand portico. There were here servants who strangled
their master to obtain his money; children who assassinated their father,
to come more speedily into possession of his property; subjects who kill
their king, after having pronounced his condemnation; a woman who poisons
her husband; and a mistress who does the same to her lover, to revenge
his infidelity.
In the middle of this gallery, was a colossal figure, representing
Ingratitude, and elevated upon a pedestal; the relief of which presented
on the one side Cruelty, on the second Infidelity, on the third Interest,
on the fourth Ambition. The base was ornamented with sculptural emblems
of sporting cupids, satyrs, lions, and cats.
After having traversed the whole extent of this apartment, Death entered
into a grand and magnificent hall; the sable hangings of which were sown
with white drops, like the ornaments commonly seen on monuments in
burying places. In this hall stood a throne composed of dead men’s
bones, and which appeared like ivory: four leg bones formed the
supporters; two arms, with their hands, the arms of the seat; a spinal
bone, with those of the thighs, composed the back part; the two pommels
above were two sculls, and the seat was of other bones. It was ascended
by four steps, the first of which was called _infancy_, the second
_youth_, the third _manhood_, and the fourth _old age_. Death being
seated, the whole medical corps ranged themselves on either side, the
others being seated at their feet.
Death spake for some time upon the limits of life, and of the grandeur of
her empire: she finished her discourse by observing that there was but
one way of coming into existence, but many ways of quitting it. She then
gave a general order for the dead to appear, and all at once I saw them
fall from the wainscot, and come from the walls and pavement. “Speak,”
said the queen, “each in turn.”
The first who commenced, said, “I am Romulus, first king of Rome; my
ministers not being able to tolerate my government, wished to change it;
they caused me to be assassinated, and a report spread, that I had, in
their presence, been translated to heaven.”
“I am,” said another, “Cæsar, first emperor of the Romans: the senate
caused me to perish by the hand of my adopted son.”
A third, “I am the emperor Claudius, poisoned by my wife.”
A fourth, “I am Alexander the great; I died in the very bosom of a
debauch.”
A fifth, “I am Codrus, king of the Athenians; I died for my country.”
“And I,” exclaimed a sixth, “am _Charles the fifth_, whose bones my son
exhumed, and burnt.”
In like manner appeared many of the illustrious dead, now confounded with
all kinds of people. When they had spoken, they formed a great circle,
in the midst of which I perceived a large bottle, from whence issued a
voice, that said, “I am that famous necromancer, the great magician of
Europe. I caused myself to be cut in pieces by one of my servants, and
shut up in this vessel, expecting my members would re-unite, and my body
be renewed in its pristine youth; I know not whether the secret was
false, or if he neglected to follow strictly my orders; but after boiling
a long time, I formed only a gross, misshapen, and lifeless mass.”
“You then were of opinion,” said death, “that the soul was but a subtle
fire; a flame that could animate your body, and repair itself!”
“Yes,” answered the necromancer.
“Close the vessel again,” said Death.
When all the by-standers had been heard, they were required to put their
names upon a great book; and while they were writing, I saw the bottle
move towards me. The necromancer within immediately commenced a
conversation with me; inquiring, “who reigns in Spain? Does Venice yet
exist? What is the news in France? Are the Calvinists constantly
triumphant?”
I answered him, “Philip IV. reigns in Spain; Venice is still beautiful,
rich, and powerful: the Calvinists and their king are always invincible.”
He then besought me to break the bottle. As I hesitated, not being
without certain qualms of fear, it swelled, and burst of itself. I then
saw what it had contained expand into a human form, and rising up,
resumed the discourse in this manner:—
“As it is impossible for me to return again into the world, place us
henceforth among the dead magicians.”
In the place of the bottle, there appeared an old man with a great head
and a long beard: he was of a grave mein, and held a globe in his hand.
“I am,” said he, “Nestradamus, that great French astrologer, who
predicted, during my life, every thing that has since happened.”
“How,” said I, “are you he that composed those famous centuries, which,
after death, were found in your tomb? Resolve me, I pray you, one of
your prophecies now in my mind:—
“‘The sign of Aries shall the world command;
Taurus shall rule the waves and solid land;
Mother and sire the virgin shall deceive,
The mother’s breasts the tender twins shall leave.’”
“That,” said the astrologer, “is as clear as the light of day; and
signifies, that married men shall frequently resemble rams: the love of
woman, represented by the bull, shall mingle itself with affairs of every
kind; the daughter divert herself spite of the advice of her father, and
the sons laugh at maternal expostulation.”
“And this, what is its signification?” demanded I:—
“‘Mothers soon shall children bear,
Who to name no sire shall dare;
None of all the babes they bear,
E’er shall lack a father’s care.’”
“That is equally easy of explanation. I wish to convey the idea, that
many children shall call those fathers, who are not so; and shall have
fathers whom they will never discover.”
He would have departed, after explaining these two prophecies; but I
stopped him, entreating him only to tell me the meaning of this last:—
“‘Before another year is born,
Many a goose quill shall be worn;
Many a quill the ether bear,
Many a man shall dance in air;
Men shall sorely rue the attack,
Of grey goose quill and Doctor Quack;
Merchants be in bankrupt plight,
Nobles turn to blackguards quite;
Province, city, town, and village,
Soon shall soldiers sack and pillage;
Lads and lasses soon shall try,
What darkness hides from every eye;
No more shall widows’ weeds endure;
The cloister virgins shall immure.’”
“That signifies,” said Nostradamus, who was in haste to depart, “that one
half of the world shall pillage the other; the people of justice shall
rob by their pen; false witnesses will support themselves by hanging upon
their skirts; the physicians will kill with physic, and be well paid for
it; the merchants thrive by bankruptcy; nobles shall be ruined by their
stewards; the soldiers will lay all under contribution; children shall
rob one another; widows contract new nuptials, and to enjoy the portions
of their daughters, make nuns of them. Let go!”—and he hastily left me.
I then perceived before me a good old man, of a very sad aspect, who
demanded if I was dead?
“No,” answered I; “living, and at your service.”
“Good!” said he; “I expect a favour of you. You must know, I am called
_They_. I also bear the appellation of _Somebody_, of _Another_, of a
_certain Personage_, of _Author_, and of _I know who_. While I lived in
the world, I was accused of having said and done every thing which could
not be traced: if a false report was circulated, it was _they_ who had
broached it: if any one was found assassinated in the high way, it was
_they_ who had killed him: if there was a man with a bad face, this was
_somebody_: if it was imprudent to name a person in an affair, they
called him _a certain person_: if a writer advanced bold things, this was
an _author_, who had spoken on the first impression: and, finally, when
the author was entirely concealed, it was _I know who_, that had said or
acted thus and so. All this time I neither said nor did any thing; I
appeared no where; I knew not what passed, and kept house both day and
night; the chagrin of seeing myself in so bad repute, fairly put an end
to my existence. I demand, therefore, of you, to vindicate me to your
friends, and those persons over whom you have any influence, that they
may not in future charge me with any thing; for, since I am dead, I can
of course have nothing more to do with the world.”
I promised the old gentleman I would remember what he desired, and he
retired contented. At this moment a young woman coming up to me, fell
upon my neck, exclaiming,
“My dear Æneas, have you at length arrived! I have for a long time
wished to see you. Virgil hath spoken very illy of you: he has published
a history of our loves, which we knew nothing of: I have sought you among
all the dead, without being able to find you; but I know, from your air,
that you are Æneas; for, as you have been the greatest and most
illustrious of heroes, so here you surpass all the dead in demeanour and
beauty.”
As the surprise I felt at this unmerited compliment prevented answer, she
continued to speak, and embraced me so vehemently, that I was compelled
to cry out.
“Peace, there!” commanded the officer of the chamber, who was called
_Silence_.
I still continued to bawl out; and said to Madame Dido, “O Queen of
Carthage! will you not be undeceived? I am Don Francisco de Quevedo de
Villegas, Chevalier of the order of Saint James!”
“Behold!” replied the queen, “behold this drunkard, who, being a Trojan,
would fain pass himself off for a Spaniard! Go, pious Æneas; Virgil hath
done thee no great wrong in describing thee as thou art. Where is thy
Palladium? thy nurse? thy son Ascanias? where are thy companions? why are
you here without attendants?”
“Be not disquieted,” said I: “address yourself to Charon; he would know
you as well as Æneas, who abandoned you in Africa; that was a meet
punishment for your prudery: but you have not yet been able to forget a
man, who surrendered his native city to the Greeks, and fled from his
ruined country. You are a victim of love!”
“And you,” said she, retiring, “are very credulous!”
The officer again commanded silence, and before I had time to add any
thing more, I saw approaching a dead person of great size, with horns
upon his head, and who ran towards me as though he was going to strike
with them. I stretched out my arms to defend myself, and perceiving near
me a large fork, that supported the tapestry, I took it in my hand, and
firmly awaited his onset.
“Do you recognize,” said he, “Don Diego Moreno, whom you have called in
your poems Signor Cornuto?”
“Yes,” replied I; “and to convince you, that I neither fear you, living
nor dead, take in advance a blow with this fork;” and at that endeavoured
to run him through, but his bones were too hard. Moreno then gave me a
blow with his head, and casting himself upon me, threw me down: I stuck
to his sides, inserting my fingers into the openings beneath the sternum,
and as he arose, came up with him. This noise causing considerable
confusion in the assembly, I saw coming upon me, a great number of the
dead, armed in the same manner with Moreno; and as they pressed upon one
another, each anxious to pass his neighbour, their bones made a very
curious clicking. In the mean time, others marshalled themselves in
front, to protect me from their assault.
During these transactions, Death sat upon her throne in silence,
attentive only to the inscription of her subjects names; and as the
secretaries happened to finish at a moment when there was a slight
cessation in our tumult, the officer cried—
“Peace—listen!”