When the devil had gone Smetse was almost off his head with joy, and
ran to his wife, who had come to the door of the kitchen, and thumped
her for joy, seized her, kissed her, hugged the good woman, shook her,
pressed her to him, ran back to his men, shook them all by the hand,
crying: "By Artevelde! I am quits, Smetse is quits!" And he seemed
to have a tongue for nothing else but that he was quits! And he blew
in his wife's ear, into his workmen's faces, and under the nose of a
bald and wheezing old cat who sat up in one corner and got quit with
him by a scratch in the face.
"The rascal," said Smetse, "does not seem glad enough at my
deliverance. Is he another devil, think you? They say they disguise
themselves in every kind of shape. Ho," said he to the cat, who was
arching her back in annoyance, "hast heard, listened, and understood,
devil cat? I am quit and free, quit and franked, quit and happy,
quit and rich! And I have made fools of all the devils. And from now
on I will live gaily as becomes a quit smith. Wife, I will send this
very day a hundred philipdalers to Slimbroek, so that that poor sinner
may also rejoice at Smetse's quittance."
But his wife said nothing, and when Smetse went to look for her he
found her on the stair with a great bowl of holy water in her hands,
in which she was dipping a fair sprig of palm branch.
Coming into the smithy she began to sprinkle with the palm her man and
the workmen, and also the hammers, anvils, bellows, and other tools.
"Wife," said Smetse, trying to escape the wetting, "what art thou at?"
"I am saving thee," said she, "presumptuous smith. Dost verily think
that, being freed of devils, thou hast for thine own the chattels that
come from them? Dost think that though they have lost the soul which
was to be their payment they will leave thee thy riches. Ho, the good
fool! They will come back again, yes; and if I do not sprinkle thee
with this holy water, and myself likewise, and all these good men,
who knows with what evils they may not torment us, alas!"
And the good wife was working away with her palm-branch when suddenly
a great thunder rumbled under the earth, shaking the quay, and the
stones cracked, the panes shivered in the windows, all the doors and
casements in the smithy opened of themselves, and a hot wind blew.
"Ah," said she, "they are coming; pray, my man!"
And suddenly there appeared in the sky the figure of a man, naked
and of marvellous beauty. He was standing in a chariot of diamond,
drawn by four flaming horses. And he held in his right hand a banner,
whereon was written: "More beautiful than God." And from the body of
this man, whereof the flesh shone brightly, came golden rays which
lit up the Lys, the quay and the trees like sunlight. And the trees
began to sway and swing their stems and branches, and all the quay
seemed to roll like a ship upon the sea, and thousands of voices
called out together: "Lord, we cry hunger and thirst; Lord, feed us;
Lord, give us to drink."
"Ah," said the good wife, "here is my Lord Lucifer and all his devils!"
And when the voices had ceased the man made a sign with his hand,
and of a sudden the waters of the Lys rose as if God had lifted up
the river-bed. And the river became like a rough sea; but the waves
did not roll on the quay, but each lifted separately, bearing on its
crest a foam of fire. Then each of these flames rose into the air,
drawing up the water like a pillar, and there seemed to poor Smetse
and his wife and the men to be hundreds of thousands of these pillars
of water, swaying and foaming.
Then each pillar took on the form of a fearful animal, and suddenly
there appeared, mingled together, striking and wounding one another,
all the devils whose work was to torment poor damned souls. There were
to be seen, crawling over crooked and shivering men's legs, monstrous
crabs, devouring those who were servile in their lives. Near these
crabs were ostriches bigger than horses, who ran along flapping their
wings. Under their tails they had laurel-wreaths, sceptres, and crowns,
and behind their tails were made to run those men who in our world
spent all their time running after vain honours, without a care for
doing good. And the ostriches went quicker than the wind, while the
men ran without respite behind them in the effort to get the wreaths,
crowns, and sceptres; but they could never reach them. In this way
they were led to a treacherous pond full of loathsome mud, wherein they
fell shamefully and stayed stuck for all eternity, whilst the mocking
ostriches walked up and down on the bank dangling their bawbles.
Among the ostriches were squadrons of many-coloured apes, diapered
like butterflies, whose concern was with miserly Jewish and Lombard
usurers. These men, when they entered hell, looked round them
carefully, screwing up their eyes under their spectacles, collected
from the ground divers rusty nails, old breeches, filthy rags, buttons
showing the wood, and other old stuff, then dug a hole hastily, hid
their treasures in it and went off to sit down some way away. The apes,
seeing this, would leap on the hole, empty out its content, and throw
it into the fire. Then the misers would weep, make lamentations, and
be beaten by the apes, and at last go off to find some more secret
place, hide there once again their new depredations, and see once
again the hole emptied and the apes coming once again to beat them,
and so on for all eternity.
In the air, above the apes, soared eagles, who had, instead of a beak,
four-and-twenty matchlock barrels firing together. These eagles were
called Royal, because their concern was with conqueror princes, who
were too fond in their lifetime of the sounds of war and cannon. And
for their punishment these matchlocks were fired off in their faces
again and again throughout eternity.
Besides the ostriches, apes, and eagles, reared up a great serpent
with a bear's coat, who writhed and twisted this way and that. He was
of great length and breadth, beyond all measure, and had a hundred
thousand hairy arms, in each of which he held an iron pike as sharp
as a razor. He was called the Spaniards' Serpent, because in hell
it was his task to gash about with his pikes without mercy all the
bands of traitor pillagers who had despoiled our good country.
Keeping clear of this serpent with great prudence, darted about
mischievous little winged pigs whose tails were eels. These tails
were designed for the perpetual teazing of such gluttons as came to
hell. For the pig would come up to such a one, hold the eel close to
his mouth, and, when he tried to bite it, suddenly fly away from him,
and so on throughout eternity.
There were to be seen also, marching up and down in their gorgeous
feathers, monstrous peacocks. Whenever some vain dandy came their way,
giving himself airs in his fine clothes, one of these peacocks would
go to him and spread its tail, as if inviting him to pluck out a fine
feather for his bonnet. But as soon as the dandy approached to take
his feather, Master Peacock would let fly in his face with filthy
and evil-smelling water, which spoilt all his fine clothes. And
throughout eternity the dandy would try to get the feather, and
throughout eternity be so swilled down.
Among these fearful animals, wandered two by two male and female
grasshoppers as big as a man, the one playing on a pipe, and the
other brandishing a great knotted stick. Whenever they saw a man who,
in his lifetime, leapt, by cowardice, from good to evil, from black to
white, from fire to water, always on the side of the strongest, these
grasshoppers would go to him, and one would play the pipe, while the
other, leaning on his stick with great dignity, would say: "Leap for
God," and the man would leap; "Leap for the Devil," and the man would
leap again; "Leap for Calvin, leap for the Mass, leap for the goat,
leap for the cabbage," and the man would keep leaping. But he never
leapt high enough for the liking of the grasshopper with the stick,
and so he was each time belaboured in a most pitiless manner. And he
leapt without ceasing and was belaboured without respite, while the
pipe made continual pleasant music, and so on throughout eternity.
Farther on, naked and lying on cloths of gold, silk, and velvet,
covered with pearls and a thousand resplendent gems, more beautiful
than the most beautiful ladies of Ghent, Brussels, or Bruges,
lascivious and smiling, singing, and playing on sweet instruments,
were the wives of the devils. These dealt out punishment to old rakes,
corrupters of youth and beauty. To them these she-devils would call
out amorously, but they could never get near them. Throughout eternity
these poor rakes had to look at them without being able to touch them
even with the tip of the nail of their little finger. And they wept
and made lamentation, but all in vain, and so on through centuries
and centuries.
There were also mischievous little devils with drums, made of the
skins of hypocrites, whose masks hung down over the drum case as
ornament. And the hypocrites to whom they belonged, without their
skins, without their masks, in all their ugliness, ashamed, hooted,
hissed, spat at, eaten up by horrible flies, and followed by the
little devils beating their drums, had to wander up and down hell
throughout eternity.
It was good to see also the devils of conceited men. These were fine
great leathern bottles full of wind, finished off with a beak, at the
end of which was a reed. These bottles had eagle's feet and two good
little arms, with fingers long enough to go round the widest part of
the bottle. When the conceited man came into hell, saying: "I am great,
I am grand, strong, beautiful, victorious, I will overcome Lucifer
and marry his dam Astarte," the leathern bottles would come up to him
and say, with a deep reverence: "My lord, will you be pleased to let
us speak a word to you in secret, touching your high designs?" "Yes,"
he would say. Then two bottles would stuff their reeds into his ears
in such a manner that he could not get them out again, and begin to
press in their bellies with their long fingers, so as to force wind
into his head, which thereupon swelled up, large and always larger,
and Master Self-Conceit rose into the air and went off to wander
throughout eternity, with his head bumping the ceiling of hell,
and his legs waving in the air in the efforts to get down again;
but all in vain.
Marvellous devils were certain apes of quicksilver, always running,
tumbling, leaping, coming, and going. These devils bore down on
the lazy fellows who were thrown to them, gave them a spade to dig
earth with, a sword to polish, a tree to trim, or a book to con. The
lazybones would look at the task set him, saying: "To-morrow,"
and would stretch his arms, scratching and yawning. But as soon
as he had his mouth wide open the ape would stuff into it a sponge
soaked in quintessence of rhubarb. "This," he would say mockingly,
"is for to-day; work, slug, work." Then, while the lazybones was
retching, the devil would thump him, shake him a hundred different
ways, giving him no more peace than a gadfly gives a horse, and so
on throughout eternity.
Pleasing devils were pretty little children very wide-awake and
mischievous, whose concern was to teach learned orators to think,
speak, weep, and laugh according to common nature. And when they did
otherwise the little devils would rap them sharply on the knuckles. But
the poor pedants could no longer learn, being too heavy, old, and
stupid; so they had a rap on the knuckles every day and a whipping
on Sundays.
And all these devils cried out together: "Master, we are hungry;
Master, give us to eat, pay somewhat for the good services we render
thee."
And suddenly the man in the chariot made a sign, and the good River
Lys threw all these devils on the quay, as the sea splashes on the
shore, and they hissed loud and terribly at landing.
And Smetse, his wife, and the workmen heard the doors of the cellars
open with a loud noise, and all the casks of bruinbier came hissing
up the stairs, and hissing across the floor of the forge, and still
hissing described a curve in the air and fell among the crowd of
all the devils. And so also did the bottles of wine, so also the
hams, loaves, and cheeses, and so also the good crusats, angelots,
philipdalers, and other moneys, which were all changed into meat and
drink. And the devils fell over one another, fought, scrambled, wounded
themselves, forming only one great mass of battling monsters, howling
and hissing, and each trying to get more than the others. When there
was left neither drop nor crumb, the man in the chariot made another
sign, and all the devils melted into black water and flowed into the
river, where they disappeared. And the man vanished from the sky.
And Smetse Smee was as poor as before, save for one little bag of
golden royals, which his wife had by chance sprinkled with holy
water, and which he kept, although it came from the devil. But this,
as you shall see, did not profit him at all. And he lived with great
content until he died suddenly one day in his smithy, at the great
and blessed age of ninety-three years.
XVII. Of Hell, of Purgatory, of the long ladder, and finally of
Paradise.
When he was dead his soul had to pass through Hell in the guise of a
smith. Coming thither he saw, through the open windows, the devils
which had so frightened him in the vision on the Lys, and who were
now busy torturing and tormenting the poor damned souls as terribly
as they could. And Smetse went to the doorkeeper; but the doorkeeper,
on seeing him, howled out in a most awful fashion: "Smetse is here,
Smetse Smee the traitor smith!" And he would not let him in. Hearing
the hubbub, My Lord Lucifer, Madam Astarte, and all their court came
to the windows, and all the other devils after them.
And they all cried out in fear:
"Shut the doors, 'tis the enchanted Smetse, Smetse the traitor smith,
Smetse the beater of poor devils. If he comes in here he will overset,
spoil, break up everything. Begone, Smetse!"
"My masters," said Smetse, "if I do indeed come hither to look at
your snouts, which are not beautiful I promise ye, 'tis not at all
for my pleasure; and besides, I am not by any means anxious to come
in. So do not make such a noise, master devils."
"Yes, indeed, my fine smith," answered Madam Astarte, "thou showest
a velvet pad now, but when thou art within thou wilt show thy claws
and thine evil intention, and will slay us all, me, my good husband,
and all our friends. Be off, Smetse; be off, Smee."
"Madam," said Smetse, "you are indeed the most beautiful she-devil I
ever saw, but that is, nevertheless, no reason why you should think
so ill of a fellow-creature's intentions."
"Hark to the fellow!" said Madam Astarte, "how he hides his wickedness
under sugared words! Drive him away, devils, but do him no great harm."
"Madam," said Smetse, "I beg you to listen."
"Be off, smith!" cried out all the devils; and they threw burning
coals at him, and whatever else they could find. And Smetse ran off
as fast as his legs would take him.
When he had travelled some way he came before Purgatory. On the other
side was a ladder, with this inscription at its foot: "This is the
road to the good Paradise."
And Smetse, filled with joy, began to climb the ladder, which was made
of golden thread, with here and there a sharp point sticking out, in
virtue of that saying of God which tells us: "Broad is the way which
leadeth to Hell, strait and rough the way to Heaven." And, indeed,
Smetse soon had his feet sore. Nevertheless, he made his way upward
without halting, and only stopped when he had counted ten hundred
thousand rungs and could see no more of either earth or hell. And he
became thirsty. Finding nothing to drink he became a little sullen,
when suddenly he saw a little cloud coming past, and drank it up
joyfully. It did not indeed seem to him as good drink as bruinbier,
but he took consolation from the thought that it is not possible
to have comforts everywhere alike. A little higher up the ladder he
suddenly had hard work to keep his bonnet on his head, by reason of
a treacherous autumn wind which was going down to earth to pull off
the last leaves. And by this wind he was sorely shaken, and nearly
lost his hold. After he was out of this pass he became hungry, and
regretted the good earthly beef, smoked over pine-cones, which is so
good a food for poor wayfarers. But he took heart, thinking that it
is not given to man to understand everything.
Suddenly he saw an eagle of terrible aspect coming upon him from the
earth. Thinking for certain that he was some fat sheep, the eagle
rose above him and would have dropped on him like a cannon-ball; but
the good smith had no fear, bent to one side and caught the bird by
the neck, which he wrung subtly. Then, still going up, he hastened to
pluck it, ate morsels of it raw, and found them stringy. Nevertheless,
he took this meat with patience, because he had no other. Then,
patiently and bravely, he climbed for several days and several nights,
seeing nothing but the blue of the sky and innumerable suns, moons,
and stars above his head, under his feet, to right, to left, and
everywhere. And he seemed to be in the midst of a fair great globe,
whereof the inner walls had been painted this fair blue, strewn with
all these suns, moons, and stars. And he was frightened by the great
silence and by the immensity.
Suddenly he felt a genial warmth, heard sweet voices singing, distant
music, and the sound of a city toiling. And he saw a town of infinite
size girt about with walls, over which he could see housetops, trees,
and towers. And he felt that he was moving more quickly despite his
own legs, and by and by, leaving the last rung behind, he set foot
before the gate of the town.
"By Artevelde!" said he, "here is the good Paradise."
And he knocked on the gate; St. Peter came to open to him.
Smetse was somewhat frightened at the gigantic appearance of the good
saint, his great head of hair, his red beard, his large face, his high
forehead, and his piercing eyes, with which he looked at him fixedly.
"Who art thou?" quoth he.
"Master St. Peter," said the smith, "I am Smetse Smee, who in his
lifetime lived at Ghent on the Quai aux Oignons, and now prays you
to let him enter your good Paradise."
"No," said St. Peter.
"Ah, my master!" said Smetse most piteously, "if 'tis because in my
lifetime I sold my soul to the devil, I make bold to tell you that
I repented most heartily, and was redeemed from his power and kept
nothing that was his."
"Excepting a sackful of royals," said the saint, "and on that account
thou shalt not come in."
"Master," said the smith, "I am not so guilty as you suppose; the sack
stayed in my house because it had been blessed, and for that reason
I thought I might well keep it. But take pity on me, for I knew not
what I was doing. I pray you also to deign to consider that I come
from a far country, that I am greatly tired, and would gladly rest
in this good Paradise."
"Be off, smith," said the saint, who was holding the door a crack open.
Meanwhile Smetse had slipped through the opening, and taking off his
leathern apron sat down, saying:
"Master, I am here rightfully, you cannot turn me out."
But St. Peter bade a troop of halberdier angels who were near at hand
drive him away: and this the halberdier angels did with great dispatch.
Thereafter, Smetse did not cease to beat on the door with his fists,
and lamented, wept, and cried out: "Master, have pity on me, let
me in, my master; I repent of all the sins I have committed, and
even the others as well. Master, grant me permission to enter the
blessed Paradise. Master...." But Master St. Peter, hearing this,
put his head over the wall:
"Smith," said he, "if thou wilt persist in this uproar, I shall have
thee sent to Purgatory."
And poor Smetse held his peace, and sat down on his seat, and so
passed sad days, watching others enter.
In this wise a week went by, during which he lived on a few scraps of
bread which were thrown to him over the wall, and on grapes gathered
from a sour vine which grew on the outer face of the wall of Paradise
in this part.
And Smetse was most unhappy, leading this idle existence. And he
sought in his head for some work or other which would gladden him
somewhat. Having found it, he shouted as loud as he could, and
St. Peter put his head over the wall.
"What wilt thou, Smetse?" said he.
"Master," answered the smith, "will you be pleased to let me go down
to earth for one night, so that I may see my good wife and look to
my affairs?"
"Thou mayst, Smetse," answered St. Peter.