On {1a} the fine evening of a warm and mellow summer I betook me up one
of the mountains of Wales, {1b} spy-glass in hand, to enable my feeble
sight to see the distant near, and to make the little to loom large.
Through the clear, tenuous air and the calm, shimmering heat, I beheld
far, far away over the Irish Sea many a fair scene. At last, when mine
eyes had taken their fill of all the beauty around me, and the sun well
nigh had reached his western ramparts, I lay down on the sward, musing
how fair and lovely compared with mine own land were the distant lands of
whose delightful plains I had just obtained a glimpse; how fine it would
be to have full view thereof, and how happy withal are they, besides me
and my sort, who have seen the world’s course. So, from the long
journeying of mine eye, and afterwards of my mind, came weariness, and
beneath the cloak of weariness came my good Master Sleep {1c} stealthily
to bind me, and with his leaden keys safe and sound he locked the windows
of mine eyes and all mine other senses. But it was in vain he tried to
lock up the soul which can exist and travel without the body; for upon
the wings of fancy my spirit soared free from out the straitened corpse,
and the first thing I perceived close by was a dancing-knoll and such a
fantastic rout {4a} in blue petticoats and red caps, briskly footing a
sprightly dance. I stood awhile hesitating whether I should approach
them or not, for in my confusion I feared they were a pack of hungry
gipsies and that the least they would do, would be to kill me for their
supper, and devour me saltless. But gazing steadfastly upon them I
perceived that they were of better and fairer complexion than that lying,
tawny crew; so I plucked up courage and drew near them, slowly, like a
hen treading on hot coals, in order to find out what they might be; and
at last I addressed them over my shoulder, thus, “Pray you, good friends,
I understand that ye come from afar, would ye take into your midst a bard
who wishes to travel?” Whereupon the din instantly ceased, every eye was
turned upon me, and in shrill tones “a bard” quoth one, “to travel,” said
another, “into our midst,” a third exclaimed. By then I had recognised
those who were looking at me most fiercely, and they commenced whispering
one to another some secret charms, still keeping their gaze upon me; the
hubbub then broke out again and everyone laying hands upon me, lifted me
shoulder-high, like a knight of the shire, and off like the wind we go,
over houses and lands, cities and realms, seas and mountains, unable to
notice aught so swiftly were they flying. And to make matters worse, I
began to have doubts of my companions from the way they frowned and
scowled when I refused to lampoon my king {4b} at their bidding.
“Well, now,” said I to myself, “farewell to life; these accursed, arrant
sorcerers will bear me to some nobleman’s larder or cellar and leave me
there to pay penalty by my neck for their robbery, or peradventure they
will leave me stark-naked and benumbed on Chester Marsh or some other
bleak and remote place.” But on considering that those whose faces I
knew had long been buried, and that some were thrusting me forward, and
others upholding me above every ravine, it dawned upon me that they were
not witches but what are called the Fairies. Without delay I found
myself close to a huge castle, the finest I had ever seen, with a deep
moat surrounding it, and here they began discussing my doom. “Let us
take him as a gift to the castle,” suggested one. “Nay, let us throw the
obstinate gallows-bird into the moat, he is not worth showing to our
great prince,” said another. “Will he say his prayers before sleeping,”
asked a third. At the mention of prayer, I breathed a groaning sigh
heavenwards asking pardon and aid; and no sooner had I thought the prayer
than I saw a light, Oh! so beautiful, breaking forth in the distance. As
this light approached, my companions grew dark and vanished, and in a
trice the Shining One made for us straight over the castle: whereupon
they let go their hold of me and departing, turned upon me a hellish
scowl, and had not the Angel supported me I should have been ground fine
enough to make a pie long before reaching the earth.
“What is thy errand here?” asked the Angel. “In sooth, my lord,” cried
I, “I wot not what place here is, nor what mine errand, nor what I myself
am, nor what has made off with mine other part; I had a head and limbs
and body, but whether I left ’em at home or whether the Fairies, if fair
their deed, have cast me into some deep pit (for I mind my passing over
many a rugged gorge) an’ I be hanged, Sir, I know not.” “Fairly,
indeed,” said he, “they would have dealt with thee, had I not come in
time to save thee from the toasting-forks of the brood of hell. Since
thou hast such a great desire to see the course of this little world, I
am commanded to give thee the opportunity to realize thy wish, so that
thou mayest see the folly of thy discontent with thine own lot and
country. Come now!” he bade, and at the word, with the dawn just
breaking, he snatched me up far away above the castle; and upon a white
cloudledge we rested in the empyrean to see the sun rising, and to look
at my heavenly companion, who was far brighter than the sun, save that
his radiance only shone upwards, being hidden from all beneath by a veil.
When the sun waxed strong, I beheld in the refulgence of the two our
great, encircled earth as a tiny ball in the distance below. “Look
again,” said the Angel, and he gave me a better spy-glass than the one I
had on the mountain-side. When I looked through this I saw things in a
different light and clearer than ever before.
I could see one city of enormous magnitude, with thousands of cities and
kingdoms within it, the wide ocean like a whirlpool around it, and other
seas, like rivers, dividing it into parts. After gazing a longwhile, I
observed that it was made up of three tremendously long streets, with a
large and splendid gateway at the lower end of each street; on each
gateway, a magnificent tower, and on each tower, in sight of all the
street, a woman of exceeding beauty; and the three towers at the back of
the ramparts reached to the foot of that great castle. Of the same
length as these immense streets, but running in a contrary direction, I
saw another street which was but narrow and mean compared with them,
though it was clean and upon higher ground than they, and leading upwards
to the east, whilst the other three led downwards northerly to the great
towers. I could no longer withhold from asking my friend’s permission to
speak. “What then,” said the Angel, “if thou wilt speak, listen
carefully, so that there be no need of telling thee a thing twice.” “I
will, my lord, and prithee,” asked I, “what castle is that, away yonder
to the north?” “That castle aloft in the sky,” said he, “belongs to
Belial, prince of the power of the air, and ruler of all that vast city
below; it is called Castle Delusive: for an arch-deluder is Belial, and
it is through delusion that he is able to keep under his sway all that
thou see’st with the exception of that little bye-street yonder. He is a
powerful prince, with thousands of princes under him. What was Cæsar or
Alexander the Great compared with him? What are the Turk and old Lewis
of France {7} but his servants? Great, aye, exceedingly great is the
might, craftiness and diligence of Prince Belial and of the countless
hosts he hath in the lower region.” “Why do those women stand there?” I
asked, “and who are they?” “Slowly,” cried the Angel, “one question at a
time; they stand there in order to be loved and worshipped.” “No wonder,
in sooth,” said I, “so lovely are they that were I the possessor of hands
and feet as once I was, I too would go and love or worship them.” “Hush!
hush!” cried he, “if that is what thou wouldst do with thy members ’tis
well thou’rt wanting them: know, foolish spirit, that these three
princesses are no other than three destroying enchantresses, daughters of
Prince Belial; and that all the beauty and gentleness which dazzles the
streets, is nought else but a gloss over ugliness and cruelty; the three
within are like their sire, full of deadly venom.” “Woe’s me, is’t
possible,” cried I sorrowfully, “that their love wounds?” “’Tis true,
the more the pity,” said he, “thou art delighted with the way the three
beam on their adorers: well, there is in that ray of light many a
wondrous charm, it blindens them so that they cannot see the hook; it
stupifies them so that they pay no heed to their danger, and consumes
them with an insatiate lust for more, even though it be a deadly poison,
breeding diseases which no physician, yea, not death itself can ever
heal, nor aught at all unless a heavenly medicine called Repentance be
had to purge the evil in good time ere it become too deeply rooted,
through gazing upon them too long.” “Wherefore will not Belial have this
adoration to himself?” asked I. “It is the same thing,” said he, “for so
long as a man adheres to these or to one of them, that man is sure to
bear the mark of Belial and wear his livery.”
“By what names are these three enchantresses called?” “The furthest away
is called Pride, the eldest daughter of Belial; the second is Pleasure,
and the nearest to us is Lucre; these three are the trinity the world
adores.” “I would fain know the name of this vast, madding city,” said
I, “hath it a better name than great Bedlam?” “Yea, ’tis called the City
of Destruction.” “Alas!” I cried, “are all that dwell therein ruined and
lost?” “All,” said he, “save a few that flee from it into yon upper city
which is King Emmanuel’s.” “Woe is me and mine! how shall they escape
while ever staring at what makes them more and more blind, and preys upon
them in their blindness?” “It would be utterly impossible for any man to
escape hence were it not that Emmanuel sends his ministers from on high,
night and morn, to persuade them to leave the rebels and turn to Him,
their true Sovereign, and sends to some a gift of precious ointment
called Faith to anoint their eyes, and whoso obtains that genuine
ointment (for there is an imitation of this as of everything else in the
City of Destruction) and anoints himself therewith, at once becomes aware
of his own wounds and madness, and will not tarry here a moment longer,
even though Belial gave him his three daughters, yea, or his fourth who
is greatest of all, for staying.”
“What are the names of these immense streets?” I enquired. “They are
called, each according to the name of the princess who rules therein;
furthest is the Street of Pride, the middle, the Street of Pleasure, and
next, the Street of Lucre.” “Who, prithee, dwell in these streets? What
tongue is spoken there? Wherefrom and of what nations are their
inhabitants?” “Many people,” answered he, “of every language, religion,
and nation under the sun dwell there; many a one lives in each of the
three streets at different seasons, and everyone as near the gateway as
he can; and very often do they change about, being unable to stay long in
the one because they so greatly love the princess of the other street.
And the old renard, slyly looking on, lets everyone love whichever he
prefers, or the three if he will—all the more certain is he of him.”
“Come nearer to them,” said the Angel, snatching me downwards in the veil
through the noxious vapours rising from the city. We alighted in the
Street of Pride, on the top of a great, roofless mansion with its eyes
picked out by the dogs and crows, and its owners gone to England or
France, there to seek what might be gotten with far less trouble at home;
thus in place of the good old country-family of days gone by, so full of
charity and benevolence, none keep possession now but the stupid owl, the
greedy crows, or the proud-pied magpies or the like, to proclaim the
deeds of the present owners. There were thousands of such deserted
palaces, which but for pride might still be the resort of noblemen, a
refuge for the weak, a school of peace and all goodness, and a blessing
to the thousands of cottages surrounding them. From the top of these
ruins we had plenty of room and quietness to see the whole street on both
sides. The houses were very fine, and of wonderful height and grandeur,
and good reason why, for emperors and kings lived there, princes in
hundreds, noblemen and gentlemen in thousands, and a great many women of
all grades. I could see many a horned coquette, like a full-rigged ship,
strutting as if set in a frame with a fair store of pedlery about her,
and pearls in her ears to the value of a good-sized farm: some were
singing so as to be praised for their voices, some dancing, to show their
figures; others coloring, to improve their complexion, others having been
a good three hours before a mirror trimming themselves, learning to
smile, pinning and unpinning, making grimaces and striking attitudes.
Many a coy wench was there who knew not how to open her lips to speak,
much less to eat, or from very ceremony, how to look under foot; and many
a ragged shrew who would contend that she was equal to the best lady in
the street, and many an ambling fop who might winnow beans by the wind of
his train.
Whilst I was looking from afar at these and a hundred similar things, lo!
there came by us a gaudy, strapping quean of arrogant mien, and after
whom a hundred eyes were turned; some made obeisance, as if in worship of
her, a few put something in her hand. I could not make out what she was,
and so I enquired. “Oh,” said my friend, “she is one whose entire dowry
is on show, and yet thou see’st how many fools there are who seek her,
and the meanest is received notwithstanding all the demand there is for
her; whom she will, she cannot have, and whom she can, she will not; she
will only speak to her betters because her mother told her that a young
woman can make no greater mistake than to be humble in courtship.”
Thereupon a burly Falstaff, who had been alderman and in many offices,
came out from beneath us, spreading out his wings as if to fly, when he
could scarcely limp along like a pack-horse, on account of his huge
paunch, and the gout, and many other gentlemanly complaints; but for all
that you could not get a single glance from him except as a great favour,
remembering the while to address him by all his title and offices. From
him I turned my eyes to the other side of the street, and saw a bluff
young nobleman with a numerous following, smiling graciously and bowing
low to everyone he met. “It is strange,” said I, “that these two should
belong to the same street.” “It is the same princess—Pride, who governs
them both,” answered he, “this one’s errand is but to speak fair; he is
now making a bid for fame with the intent thereby to attain the highest
office in the State; he is most ready to weep with the people, and tell
them how greatly they are wronged through the oppression of wicked
ministers; yet it is his own exaltation, and not the common weal that is
the main object of his pursuit.”
After looking for a longwhile I saw close by the Porch of Pride a fair
city on seven hills, and over its magnificent court the triple crown, the
swords and cross-keys. “Well, here is Rome,” quoth I, “here lives the
Pope, is it not?” “Yes, most often,” said the Angel, “but he hath a
court in each of the other streets.” Over against Rome I could see a
city with a very fine court, whereon was raised on high a crescent on a
golden banner, by which I knew the Turk was there. After these came the
court of Lewis XIV. of France, as I perceived by his arms—the three
fleur-de-lys on a silver banner reared high. Whilst admiring the
loftiness and magnificence of these palaces, I observed that there was
much traversing from one court to another, and asked the reason. “Oh,
there is many a dark reason,” said the Angel, “existing between these
three potent and crafty monarchs, but though they deem themselves fitting
peers to the three princesses up yonder, their power and guile is nought
compared with theirs. Yea more, great Belial deems the whole city,
notwithstanding the number of its kings, unsuitable for his daughters.
Although he offers them in marriage to everybody, he has never actually
given them to anyone. Keen rivalry has existed between these three for
their hands; the Turk, who calls himself the god of earth, would have the
eldest, Pride, to wife. “Nay,” said the king of France, “she is mine,
for I keep all my subjects in her street, and bring her many from England
and many other realms.” Spain would have the Princess of Lucre, spite of
Holland and all the Jews, and England, the Princess of Pleasure in spite
of the Pagans. But the Pope claimed the three, and for better reasons
than all the others; and Belial admits him next to them in each street.”
“Is that the cause of this commerce?” said I. “No,” said he, “Belial has
made peace between them upon that matter long ago. But now he has bid
the three put their heads together to consider how they can the soonest
destroy yon bye-street; that is the City of Emmanuel, and especially one
great mansion therein, out of mere jealousy, perceiving it to be a finer
edifice than any in all the City of Destruction. And Belial promises
half his kingdom during his life, and the whole on his decease, to him
who succeeds in doing so. But notwithstanding the magnitude of his
power, the depth of his wiles, and the number of emperors, kings and
crafty rulers that are beneath his sceptre in that huge City of
Destruction, notwithstanding the courage of his countless hosts beyond
the gates in the lower region, that task will prove too difficult for
them; however great, powerful and untiring his majesty may be, in yon
small street is a greater than he.”
I was not able to give very close attention to his angelic reasons, being
occupied in watching the frequent falls people were having on the
slippery street. Some I could see with ladders scaling the tower, and
having reached the highest rung, falling headlong to the bottom. “Where
do those fools try to get to?” I asked. “To a place that is high
enough—they are endeavouring to break into the treasury of the princess.”
“I warrant it be full,” quoth I. “Yes,” answered he, “of everything that
belongs to this street, to be distributed among its denizens: all kinds
of weapons for invading and extending territories; all kinds of
coats-of-arms, banners, escutcheons, books of genealogy, sayings of the
ancients, and poems, all sorts of gorgeous raiments, boastful tales and
flattering mirrors; every pigment and lotion to beautify the face; every
high office and title—in short, everything is there which makes a man
think better of himself and worse of others than he ought. The chief
officers of this treasury are masters of the ceremonies, roysters,
heralds, bards, orators, flatterers, dancers, tailors, gamblers,
seamstresses and the like.”
From this street we went to the next where the Princess of Lucre rules
supreme; this street was crowded and enormously wealthy; yet not half so
magnificent and clean as the Street of Pride, nor its people so foolishly
haughty, for here they were for the most part skulking and sly.
Thousands of Spaniards, Dutchmen, Venetians, and Jews were here, and also
a great many aged people. “Prithee, sir,” said I, “what manner of men
might these be?” “They are pinchfists one and all. In the lower end
thou shalt see the Pope once more together with conquerors of kingdoms
and their soldiery, oppressors, foresters, obstructors of public paths,
justices and their bribers, and all their progeny from the barrister to
the constable; on the other side, physicians, apothecaries, leeches,
misers, merchants, extortioners, money lenders, withholders of tithes,
wages, rents or doles left to schools, almhouses and the like; drovers,
dealers who regulate the market for their own benefit; shopmen (or
rather, sharpers) who profit on the need or ignorance of their customers;
stewards of all grades; clippers {14} and innkeepers who despoil the
idlers’ family of their goods and the country of its barley, which would
otherwise be made into bread for the poor. All these are arrant robbers,
the others in the upper end of the street are mostly small fry, such as
highwaymen, tailors, weavers, millers, grocers and so on.”
In the midst of this I could hear a terrible commotion towards the far
end of the street, and a great crowd of people thronging the gate, and
such pushing and quarelling as made me think that there was a general
riot afoot, until I asked my friend what was the matter. “There is very
valuable treasure in that tower,” said the Angel, “and the reason for
this tumult is that they are about to choose a treasurer for the
Princess, instead of the Pope, who has been driven from office.” So we
went to see the election.
The candidates for the post were the stewards, the money-lenders, the
lawyers, and the merchants, and it was the wealthiest of these that was
to have it (for the more thou hast, the more wilt thou have and seek
for—an insatiate complaint pertaining to this street). The stewards were
rejected at the outset, lest they might impoverish the whole street and,
just as they had erected their mansions upon their masters’ ruins, in the
end dispossess the princess herself. The contest then lay between the
other three. The merchants had more silk, the lawyers more mortgages on
land, and the money-lenders more bills and bonds and fuller purses. “Ho,
they won’t agree this night,” said the Angel, “come away; the lawyers are
richer than the merchants, the money-lenders than the lawyers, the
stewards than the money-lenders, and Belial richer than all; for they and
all that belongs to them are his.” “Why does the princess keep these
robbers about her?” “What more befitting, seeing that she herself is
arch-robber?” I was amazed to hear him call the princess by such name,
and the proudest gentry in the land arrant robbers. “Why, pray my lord,”
said I, “do you consider these great noblemen worse thieves than
highwaymen?” “Thou art a simpleton—think on that knave who roves the
wide world over, sword in hand, and with his ravagers at his back,
slaying and burning, and depriving the true possessors of their states,
and afterwards expecting to be worshipped as conqueror; is he not worse
than the petty thief who takes a purse on the highway? What is a tailor
who filches a piece of cloth compared to a squire who steals from the
mountain-side half a parish? Ought the latter not be called a worse
robber than the former, who only takes a shred from him, while he
deprives the poor of pasture for his beast, and consequently of the means
of livelihood for himself, and those depending upon him? What is the
stealing a handful of flour in the mill compared with the storing up of a
hundred bushels to rot, in order to obtain later on for one bushel the
price of four? What is a threadbare soldier who robs thee of thy clothes
at the swords’ point when compared with the lawyer who despoils thee of
thy whole estate with the stroke of a quill, and against whom thou canst
claim no recompense or remedy? What is a pickpocket who steals a
five-pound in comparison to a dice-sharper who robs thee of a hundred
pounds in the third part of a night? And what the swindler that deceives
thee in a worthless old hack compared with the apothecary who swindles
thee of thy money and life too, for some effete, medicinal stuff? And
moreover, what are all these robbers compared with that great arch-robber
who deprives them all of everything, yea, of their hearts and souls after
the fair is over?”
From this foul and disorderly street we proceeded to the street of the
Princess of Pleasure wherein I saw many English, French, Italians and
Paynims. The Princess is very fair to behold, with mixed wine in one
hand, and a fiddle and a harp in the other; and in her treasury,
innumerable pleasures and toys to gain the custom of everybody, and
retain them in her father’s service. Yea, many were wont to escape to
this pleasant street to drown their grief for losses and debts they had
incurred in the others. It was exceedingly crowded, especially with
young people; whilst the Princess is careful to please everyone, and to
have an arrow ready for every mark. If thou art thirsty, here thou will
find thy favorite beverage; if thou lovest song and dance, here thou
shalt have thy fill. If the beauty of the Princess has kindled thy lust,
thou need’st but beckon one of her sire’s officers (who, although
invisible, always surround her) and they will immediately attend thy
behest. There are here fair mansions, fine gardens, full orchards, shady
groves fit for every secret intrigue, or to trap birds or a white rabbit
or twain; clear streams, most pleasant to fish in; rich, boundless
plains, whereon to hunt the hare and fox. Along the street we could see
them playing interludes, juggling and conjuring, singing lewd songs to
the sound of the harp and ballads, and all manner of jesting. Men and
women of handsome appearance danced and sang, and many came hither from
the Street of Pride in order to be praised and worshipped. Within the
houses we perceived some on silken beds wallowing in debauchery; some at
the gaming-table, cursing and swearing, others tossing dice and shuffling
cards. Some from the Street of Lucre, having a room here, ran hither to
count their money, but stayed not long lest aught of the countless
geegaws that are here should entice them to part with their money without
interest. Others I saw at tables feasting with somewhat of every created
thing before them; and when everyone, mess after mess, had guzzled as
much of the dainties as would afford a moderate man a feast for a whole
week, grace followed in the form of blasphemous howling; then the king’s
health was called for, and that of every boon companion, and so on to
quench the taste of the viands, and drown their cares. Then came
tobacco, and then each one began to talk scandal of his neighbour—whether
true or false it mattered not as long as it was humorous or fresh, or,
best of all, degrading. At last, what with a round of blasphemy, and the
whole crowd with clay pistols belching smoke and fire and slander of
their neighbours, and the floor already befouled with dregs and spittle,
I feared lest viler deeds should happen, and craved to depart.
Thence we went where we heard a loud noise, beating and clamouring,
crying and laughing, shouting and singing. “Well, here’s Bedlam and no
mistake,” quoth I. By the time we got in, the turmoil had ceased; one
man lay like a log on the ground, another was vomiting, another nodding
his head over a hearth full of battered flagons, and broken pipes and
mugs. On enquiring, what should it be but a carousal of seven thirsty
neighbours—a tinker, a dyer, a blacksmith, a miner, a chimney-sweep, a
bard, and a parson who had come to preach sobriety, and to show in his
own person how repulsive drunkenness is; and the beginning of the recent
altercation was a discussion and dispute they had as to which of the
seven callings loved best the pot and pipe; the bard had beaten all but
the parson and, due regard being observed for the cloth, he was adjudged
victor and worthy to be leader of his good comrades, and so the bard
wound up the discussion thus:
“Where can ye find such thirsty seven,
Search every clime and land?
And quaffing off the ruddy ale,
Bard and parson lead the band.”
Thoroughly tired of these drunken swine, we drew nearer the gate in order
to spy out the blemishes in the magnificent court of Love, the purblind
king, wherein it is easy to enter, but difficult to get out again, and
where are chambers innumerable. In the hall opposite the door stood
giddy Cupid, with two arrows in his bow, darting a languishing venom
called lust. Along the floor I saw many fair and comely women walking
with measured steps, and following them, wretched youths gazing upon
their beauty, and each one begging a glance from his mistress, fearing a
frown even more than death; now and then one, bowing to the ground, would
place a letter in his goddess’ hand, and another a sonnet, the while in
fear expectant, like schoolboys showing their task to the master. They
in return would favour their adorers with a simpering smile or two, just
to keep their desires on edge, but granting nought more lest their lust
be sated and they depart healed of the disease. Going on into the
parlour I saw them having lessons in dancing and singing, with voice and
hand, in order to make their lovers sevenfold madder than before; on
again into the dining hall where they were taught coy smartness in
eating; into the cellar, where potent love philtres were being mixed of
nail parings and the like; in the upper rooms we could see one in a
secret chamber twisting himself into all shapes, practising gentlemanly
behaviour when in his mistress’ presence; another before a mirror
learning how to smile correctly without showing his teeth too prominently
to his ladylove; another preparing his tale to tell her, repeating the
same thing an hundred times. Wearied with this insipid babbling we came
to another cell: here a nobleman had sent for a poet from the Street of
Pride to indite him a sonnet of praise to his angel, and an eulogy of
himself; the bard was discoursing of his art: “I can,” said he, “liken
her to everything red and everything white under the sun, and her tresses
to an hundred things more yellow than gold, and as for your poem, I can
trace your lineage through many knights and princes, and through the
water of the deluge right up to Adam.” “Well, here’s a poet,” quoth I,
“who is a better genealogist than I.” “Come, come,” said the Angel,
“their intention is to deceive the woman, but, once in her presence, you
may be sure they will have to meet trick with trick.”
Upon leaving these we had a glimpse of cells where fouler deeds were
being done than modesty permits to mention, and which caused my companion
to snatch me away in anger from this fatuous court into the princess’
treasury (for we went where we list notwithstanding doors and locks).
There we saw myriads of fair women, all kinds of beverages, fruits and
dainties, stringed instruments and books of songs,—harps, pipes, odes and
carols, all sorts of games,—backgammon, dice {20} and cards; pictures of
various lands, towns and persons, inventions and amusing tricks; all
kinds of waters, perfumes, pigments and spots to make the ugly fair, and
the old look young, and the leman’s malodorous bones smell sweet for the
nonce. In short, the shadow of pleasure and the guise of happiness in
every conceivable form was to be found there; and sooth to say, I almost
think I too had been enticed by the place had not my friend instantly
hurried me away far from the three alluring towers to the top end of the
streets, and set me down near an immense palatial castle, the front view
of which seemed fair, but the further side was mean and terribly ugly,
though it was scarcely to be seen at all. It had a myriad portals—all
splendid without but rotten within. “An’t please you, my lord,” asked I,
“what is this wondrous place?” “This is the court of Belials’ second
daughter whose name is Hypocrisy; here she keeps her school, and there is
no man or woman throughout the whole city who has not been a pupil of
hers, and most of them have imbibed their learning remarkably well; so
that her lessons are discernible as a second nature intertwined with all
their thoughts, words, and deeds from very childhood almost.” I had been
looking awhile on the falsity of every part of the edifice when a funeral
came by with many weeping and sighing, and many men and horses in
mourning trappings; and shortly the poor widow, veiled so as not to see
this cruel world any more, came along with piping voice and weary sighs,
and fainting fits at intervals. In truth, I could not help but weep a
little out of pity for her. “Nay, nay,” said the Angel, “keep thy tears
for a more worthy occasion; these voices are only what Hypocrisy has
taught, and these mourning weeds were fashioned in her great school. Not
one of these weep sincerely; the widow, even before the body had left the
house, let in another husband to her heart; were she rid of the expenses
connected with the corpse she would not care a straw if his soul were at
the bottom of hell; nor do his own kindred care any more than she: for
when it went hardest with him, instead of giving him good counsel and
earnestly praying for mercy upon him, they were talking of his property,
his will or his pedigree; or what a handsome robust man he was, and such
talk; and now this wailing {21} on the part of some is for mere ceremony
and custom, on the part of others for company’s sake or for pay.”
Scarcely had these gone by than another throng came in sight: a most
gallant lord with his lady at his side, slowly advancing in state, to
whom many men of position doffed, and many were on tiptoe with eagerness
to show him obeisance and reverence. “Here is a noble lord,” said I,
“who is worthy such respect from all these!” “Wert thou to take
everything to consideration thou wouldst speak differently. This lord
comes from the Street of Pleasure, she is of the Street of Pride, and yon
old man who is conversing with him comes from the Street of Lucre, and
has a mortgage on almost every acre of my lord’s, and is come to-day to
complete the loan.” We drew nigh to hear the conversation. “In sooth,
sir,” Old Money-bags was saying, “I would not for all that I possess that
you should lack anything which lies in my power to enable you to appear
your own true self this day, especially seeing that you have met so
beautiful and lovely a lady as madam here” (the wily dog knowing full
well what she was). “By the — by the —,” said the lord, “next to gazing
at her beauty, my greatest pleasure was to hearken to your fair reasons;
I had liefer pay you interest than get money elsewhere free.” “Indeed,
my lord,” said one of his chief friends called Flatterer, “nuncle pays
you not a whit less respect than is due to you, but an it please you, he
has bestowed upon her ladyship scarce the half her mead of praise. I
defy any man,” quoth he, “to show a lovelier woman in all the Street of
Pride, or a nobler than you in all the Street of Pleasure, or a kinder
than you, good mine uncle, in all the Street of Lucre.” “Ah, that is
your good opinion,” said my lord, “but I cannot believe that any couple
were ever more united in the bonds of love than we twain.” As they went
on the crowd increased, and everyone had a pleasant smile and low bow for
the other, and hastened to salute each other with their noses to the
ground, like a pair of gamecocks on the point of striking. “Know then,”
said the Angel, “that thou hast seen naught of civility nor heard one
word which Hypocrisy has not taught. There is no one here, after all
this gentleness, who has a hap’orth of love one to another, yea, many of
them are sworn foes. This lord is the butt {23} of everybody, and all
have their dig at him. The lady looks only to his greatness and high
degree, so that she may thereby ascend a step above many of her
neighbours. Old Money-bags has his eye on my lord’s lands for his own
son, and all the others on the money he received as dowry; for they are
all his dependants, his merchants, tailors, cobblers and other craftsmen,
who have decked him out and maintained him in this splendor, and have
never had a brass farthing for it, nor are likely to get aught save
smooth words and sometimes threats perhaps. How many layers, how many
folds had Hypocrisy laid over the face of Truth! He, promising greatness
to his love, while his lands were on the point of being sold; she,
promising him dower and beauty, while her beauty is but artificial, and
cancer is consuming both her dowry and her body.” “Well, this teaches
us,” said I, “never to judge by appearances.” “Yes verily,” said he,
“but come on and I will show thee more.”
At the word he transported me up to where the churches of the City of
Destruction were; for everyone therein, even the unbelieving, has a
semblance of religion. And it was to the temple of the unbelievers that
we first came, and there I saw some worshipping a human form, others the
sun, the moon and a countless other like gods down to onions and garlic;
and a great goddess called Deceit was universally worshipped. However,
there were some traces of the influence of Christianity to be found in
most of these religions. Thence we came to a congregation of mutes, {24}
where there was nothing but sighing and quaking and beating the breast.
“Here,” said the Angel, “is the appearance of great repentance and
humility, but which in reality is perversity, stubbornness, pride and
utter darkness; although they talk much about the light within, they have
not even the spectacles of nature which the heathen thou erstwhile saw,
possess.”
From these dumb dogs we chanced to turn into an immense, roofless church,
with thousands of shoes lying at the porch, whereby I learnt it was a
Turkish mosque. These had but very dark and misty spectacles called the
Koran; yet through these they gazed intently from the summit of their
church for their prophet, who falsely promised to return and visit them
long ago, but has left his promise unfulfilled.
From thence we entered the Jewish synagogue—these too were unable to flee
from the City of Destruction, although they had grey-tinted spectacles,
for when they look a film comes over their eyes from want of anointing
them with that precious ointment—faith.
Next we came to the Papists. “Here is the church that beguiles the
nations,” exclaimed the Angel, “it was Hypocrisy that built this church
at her own cost. For the Papists encourage, yea, command men to break an
oath with a heretic even though sworn on the sacraments.” From the
chancel we went through the keyholes, up to the top of a certain cell
which was full of candles, though it was broad daylight, and where we
could see a tonsured priest walking about as if expecting someone to come
to him; and ere long there comes a buxom matron, with a fair maid in her
wake, bending their knees before him to confess their sins. “My
spiritual father,” said the good wife, “I have a burthen too heavy to
bear unless I obtain your mercy to lighten it: I married a member of the
Church of England!” “What!” cried the shorn-pate, “married a heretic!
wedded to an enemy? forgiveness can never be obtained!” At these words
she fainted, while he kept calling down imprecations upon her head.
“Woe’s me, and what is worse,” cried she when come to herself, “I killed
him!” “Oh ho! thou hast killed him? Well, that’s something towards
gaining the reconciliation of the Church; I tell thee now, hadst thou not
slain him, thou wouldst never have obtained absolution nor purgatory, but
a straight gate and a leaden weight to the devil. But where’s your
offering, you jade?” he demanded with a snarl. “Here,” said she, handing
him a considerable bag of money. “Well,” said he, “now I’ll make your
reconciliation: your penance is to remain always a widow lest you should
make another bad bargain.” When she was gone, the maiden also came
forward to make her confession. “Your pardon, father confessor,” cried
she, “I conceived a child and slew it.” “A fair deed, i’faith,” said the
confessor, “and who might the father be?” “Indeed ’twas one of your
monks.” “Hush, hush,” he cried, “speak no ill of churchmen. {25} What
satisfaction have you for the Church?” “Here it is,” said she and handed
him a gold trinket. “You must repent, and your penance will be to watch
at my bedside to-night,” he said with a leer. Hereupon four other
shavelings entered, dragging before the confessor a poor wretch, who came
about as willingly as he would to the gallows. “Here’s for you a rogue,”
cried one of the four, “who must do penance for disclosing the secrets of
the Catholic Church.” “What!” exclaimed the confessor, looking towards a
dark cell near at hand: “but come, villain, confess what thou hast said?”
“Indeed,” began the poor fellow, “a neighbour asked me whether I had seen
the souls that were groaning underneath the altar on All-souls’ day; and
I said I had heard the voice, but had seen nothing.” “So, sirrah, come
now, tell everything.” “I said moreover,” he continued, “that I had
heard that you were playing tricks on us unlettered hinds, that, instead
of souls, there was nothing but crabs making a row under the carpet.”
“Oh, thou hell-hound! cursed knave!” cried the confessor, “but, proceed,
mastiff.” “And that it was a wire that turned the image of St. Peter,
and that it was along a wire the Holy Ghost descended from the roodloft
upon the priest.” “Thou heir of hell!” cried the shriver, “Ho there,
torturers, take him and cast him into that smoky chimney for
tale-bearing.” “Well, this is the church Hypocrisy insists upon calling
the Catholic Church, and she avers that these only are saved,” said the
Angel; “they once had the proper spectacles, but they cut the glass into
a thousand forms; they once had true faith, but they mixed that salve
with substances of their own, so that they see no better than the
unbelieving.”
Leaving the cell we came to a barn {26} where someone was delivering a
mock sermon extempore, sometimes repeating the same thing thrice in
succession. “These,” said the Angel, “have the right sort of spectacles
to see ‘the things which belong unto their peace,’ but there is wanting
in their ointment one of the most necessary ingredients, namely, perfect
love. People come hither for various reasons; some out of respect to
their elders, some from ignorance, and many for worldly gain. One would
think, looking at their faces, that they are on the point of choking, but
they will swallow frogs sooner than starve; for so does Princess
Hypocrisy teach those meeting in barns.
“Pray tell,” said I, “where may the Church of England be?” “Oh, it is
yonder in the upper city, forming a large part of the Catholic Church,
but there are in this city a few probationary churches belonging to the
Church of England, where the Welsh and English stay for a time on
probation, so that they may become fit to have their names enrolled as
members of the Catholic Church, and ever blessed be he who shall have his
name so enrolled. Yet, more’s the pity, there are but few who befit
themselves for its citizenship. For too many, instead of looking
thitherwards, allow themselves to be blinded by the three princesses down
below; Hypocrisy too, keeps many with one eye on the upper city and the
other on the lower; yea, Hypocrisy is clever enough to beguile many who
have withstood the other enchantresses. Enter here, and thou shalt see
more,” he said, and snatched me up into the roodloft in one of the Welsh
churches, when the people were at service; there we saw some busily
whispering, some laughing, some staring at pretty women, others prying
their neighbour’s dress from top to toe; others, in eagerness for the
position due to their rank, keep shoving forward and showing their teeth
at one another, others dozing, others assiduous at their devotions, and
many of these too, dissimulating. “Thou hast not yet seen, nay, not even
among infidels shamelessness so barefaced and public as this,” said the
Angel, “but so it is, I am sorry to say, there is no worse corruption
than the corruption of the best.” {28a} Then they went to communion, and
everybody appeared fairly reverent before the altar; yet through my
friend’s glass I could see one taking unto himself with the bread the
form of a mastiff, another, that of a mole, another, that of an eagle, a
pig or a winged serpent, and a few, ah, how few, received a ray of bright
light with the bread and wine. “There,” he pointed out, “is a Roundhead,
who is going to be sheriff, and because the law calls upon a man to
receive the sacrament in the Church before taking office he has come here
rather than lose it, and although there are some here who rejoice on
seeing him, we have felt no joy at his conversion, because he has only
become converted for the occasion. Thus thou perceivest that Hypocrisy,
with exceeding boldness, approaches the altar in the presence of the God
that cannot be deceived. But though she wields great power in the City
of Destruction, she is of no avail in the City of Emmanuel beyond those
ramparts.”
Upon that we turned our faces from the great City of Destruction and
ascended towards the other city, which was considerably less; and on our
way we met several at the upper end of the streets who had made a move as
of turning away from the temptations of the gates of Destruction, and
making for the gate of life. But they either failed to find it or grew
weary on the way; very few went through—one man of rueful countenance,
ran in earnest while crowds on all sides derided him, some mocking, {28b}
some threatening him, and his kindred clinging to him, begging him not to
condemn himself to lose the whole world at one stroke. “I lose but a
small portion of it, and were I to lose all, what loss, I pray you, would
it be? For what is there in the world to be desired, unless it be
deceit, oppression and squalor, wickedness, folly and madness?
Contentment and rest is man’s supreme happiness—this is not to be found
in your city. For who of you is content? {29} ‘Higher, higher,’ is the
aim of all in the Street of Pride, ‘More, more’ cry all that dwell in the
Street of Lucre, ‘Sweet, sweet, yet more’ is the voice of everybody in
the Street of Pleasure. And as for rest, where is it, and who hath
obtained it? If a man is of high degree, adulation and envy almost kill
him; if poor, everybody is ready to trample and despise him. If one
would prosper, he must set his mind upon being an intriguer; if one would
gain respect, let him be a boaster or braggart; if one would be godly,
and attend church and approach the altar, he is dubbed a hypocrite, if he
abstain from doing so, he becomes at once an antichrist or a heretic; if
he is light-hearted, he is called a scoffer, if silent, a morose cur; if
he practises honesty, he is but a good-for-nothing fool; if well dressed,
he is proud, if not, he is a pig; if gentle of speech, he is double-faced
and a rogue, whom none can fathom; if rough, he is an arrogant and
froward devil. This is the world you make so much of, and pray you take
my share of it and welcome,” and at the word he shook himself free of
them all, and away he sped boldly to the narrow gate, and spite of all,
pushing onwards he entered, and we too at his heels. Upon the
battlements on either side of the gate were many men dressed in black,
encouraging the man and applauding him. “Who are those in black up
yonder?” I asked. “They are the watchmen of King Emmanuel,” answered he,
“who in their sovereign’s name invite men hither and help them through
the gate.”
By this we were at the gate: it was very low and narrow, and mean,
compared with the lower gates; around the door the Ten Commandments were
graven—the first table on the right hand and above it, “Thou shalt love
God with all thy heart,” and above the other table on the left, “Thou
shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,” and above the whole “Love not the
world neither the things that are in the world.” I had not been looking
on long before the watchmen began calling in a loud voice upon the
condemned men: “Flee, flee for your lives!” But it was few that gave any
heed at all to them, though some enquired, “What are we to flee from?”
“From the prince of this world, who ruleth in the children of
disobedience; from the corruption that is in the world through the lust
of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life; from the
wrath that is coming upon you.” “What is your beloved city?” cried a
watchman, “but a huge charred roof over the mouth of hell, and were ye
here ye should see the conflagration beyond your walls ready to burst in
and consume you even unto the bottomless pit.” Some mocked, others,
menacing, bade them have done with their wicked nonsense; yet one here
and there would ask, “Whither shall we flee?” “Hither,” answered the
watchmen, “flee hither to your rightful king, who through us still offers
you reconciliation, if ye return to your allegiance, and leave that rebel
Belial and his bewitching daughters. However fair they appear, it is all
sham; Belial is but a very poor prince at home; he has nought but you as
faggots for the fire and for food, both roast and boiled, and never will
ye suffice him; never will his hunger be appeased or your pain cease.
Who would ever in a moment of madness enter the service of such a
malignant slaughterer, and suffer eternal torments, when he might live
well under a king who is merciful and kind to his subjects, and who hath
never done them aught but good on all sides, and kept them from Belial,
so that in the end he might give to each one a kingdom in the realm of
light. Oh, ye fools, will ye have that terrible foe, whose lips are
parched with thirst for your blood, and reject the compassionate prince
who hath given his own blood to save you?” Yet these reasons which would
melt the rock seemed to have no good effect upon them, and chiefly
because few had the time to listen to them, the others were too intently
gazing at the gates; and of those listening, very few reflected thereon,
and of these again, many soon forgot them; some would not believe they
served Belial, others would not have it that this untrodden little hole
was the gate of Life, and that the other bright portals, and this castle,
were a delusion to prevent them seeing their doom before coming face to
face with it.
Just then, behold a troop of people from the Street of Pride, knocking
boldly enough at the gate; but they were all so stiff-necked that they
could never enter a place so low without soiling their periwigs and
horns, so they sulkily retraced their steps. In their wake there came up
a group from the Street of Lucre: “And is this the Gate of Life?” asked
one; “Yea,” said the watchman overhead. “What must be done to enter?” he
enquired. “Read what is inscribed above the doorway and ye shall know.”
The miser read the Ten Commandments through: “Who will say that I have
broken one of these?” he exclaimed. But when he looked up, and saw the
words, “Love not the world, nor the things that are in the world,” he was
amazed, and could not swallow that hard saying. There was one,
green-eyed and envious, who turned back when he read: “Thou shalt love
thy neighbour as thyself.” There was a gossip and a slanderer who became
dazed on reading: “Thou shalt not bear false witness.” When he read,
“Thou shalt not kill,” “This is not the place for me” quoth the
physician. In short, everybody saw something which troubled him, and so
they all returned together to consider the matter. I saw no one yet come
back who had conned his lesson; they had so many bags and scripts tightly
bound to them, that they could never have got through such a narrow
needle’s eye, even if they had tried to. After that a drove from the
Street of Pleasure walked up to the gate. “Where, pray, does this road
lead to?” asked one of the watchmen. “This,” answered he, “is the way
that leads to eternal joy and happiness.” Whereupon all strove to enter,
but failed, for some were too stout to pass through such a strait
opening; others too weak to struggle, being enfeebled through debauchery.
“Oh, ye must not attempt to take your baubles with you,” said the
watchman, observing them; “ye must leave behind your pots and dishes,
your minions, and all other things, and then hasten on.” “How shall we
live?” asked the fiddler, who would have been through long since but that
he feared to smash his fiddle. “Ye must trust the king’s promise to send
after you as many of these things as will do you good,” said the
watchman. This made them all prick their ears, “Oh, oh!” said one, “a
bird in hand is worth two in the bush,” and at that they with one accord
turned back.
“Let us enter then,” said the Angel, and drew me in; and there in the
porch I first of all perceived a large baptismal font, and hard by, a
well of salt water. “What is this doing in the middle of the road?” I
asked. “Because everybody must wash therein before obtaining citizenship
in the Court of Emmanuel; it is called the well of repentance.” Overhead
I could see inscribed “This is the gate of the Lord.” The gateway, and
street also, widened and became less steep as we went on, and after
proceeding a short distance I heard a voice behind me slowly saying,
“That is the way, walk ye in it.” The street trended upwards, but was
very clean and straight, and though the houses there were not so lofty as
those in the City of Destruction, they were fairer to behold; if there
was less wealth, there was also less dissension and care; if the choice
dishes were fewer, pain was more rare; if there was less turmoil, there
was less grief and more undoubtedly of true joy. I wondered at the
silence and sweet tranquility there, when thinking of what was going on
below. Instead of the cursing and swearing, the scoffing, debauchery and
drunkenness, instead of the pride and vanity, the torpitude of one
quarter and the violence of another, yea, for all the bustle and the
pomp, the hurly-burly and the brawl which there unceasingly bewildered
men, and for the innumerable and unvarying sins, there was nothing to be
seen here but sobriety, kindness and cheerfulness, peace and
thankfulness, compassion, innocence and contentment stamped upon the face
of every man, except where one or two silently wept, grieving that they
had tarried so long in the enemy’s city. There was no hatred or anger,
except towards sin, and this was certain to be overcome; no fear, but of
displeasing their king, who was more ready to be reconciled than to be
angry with his subjects; no sound, but that of psalms of praise to their
Saviour. By this we had come in sight of an exceedingly fine building,
oh, so magnificent! No one in the City of Destruction, neither the Turk
nor the Mogul nor any one else, has anything equal to it. “This is the
Catholic Church,” said the Angel. “Is it here Emmanuel holds his court?”
asked I. “Yes, this is the only royal court he has on earth.” “Are
there many crowned heads beneath his sway?” “A few—thy queen, some of
the princes of Scandinavia and Germany, and a few other petty princes.”
“What is that compared with those over whom great Belial rules—emperors
and kings without number?” “For all that,” said the Angel, “not one of
them can move a finger without Emmanuel’s permission—no, not even Belial
himself. For Emmanuel is his rightful liege too, only that he rebelled,
and was in consequence bound in chains to all eternity; although he is
still allowed for a short period to visit the City of Destruction where
he entices all he can into like rebellion, and to bear a share of his
punishment; and though he well knows that by so doing he increases his
own penalty, {34} yet malice and envy urge him on whenever he has a
pretext, and so much does he love evil that he seeks to destroy this city
and this edifice, although he knows of yore that its Saviour is
invincible.”
“Prithee, my lord,” said I, “may we approach so as to obtain a better
view of this magnificent royal court” (for my heart waxed warm towards
the place since first I had beheld it). “Oh yes, easily,” answered the
Angel, “for therein is my place, my duty and my work.” The nearer I came
thereto the more I wondered at the height, strength, splendour, grandeur,
and beauty of its every part, how skilful the work was, and how apt the
materials. Its base was an enormous rock wondrously fashioned, and of
strength impregnable; upon it were living stones, laid and joined in such
perfect order that no stone could possibly appear finer elsewhere than in
its own place. One part of the church projected in the form of a
wonderfully handsome cross, and the Angel saw me looking at it, and said,
“Dost thou recognise that part?” I knew not what to answer. “That is
the Church of England,” he said. I was somewhat startled, and looking up
beheld Queen Anne on the church-top enthroned, with a sword in each
hand—the one in the left called “Justice,” to defend her subjects against
the inhabitants of the City of Destruction, the one in the right, to
preserve them from Belial and his spiritual evils, and this was called
“the sword of the Spirit,” or the Word of God. Beneath the left sword
lay the statute book of England, and beneath the other, a big Bible. The
sword of the Spirit was fiery, and of immense length, and would kill
further away than the other would touch. I could see the other princes
with like arms defending their part of the church, but I deemed mine own
queen fairest of all, and her arms the brightest. At her right hand I
observed throngs clad in black—archbishops, bishops, and learned men
upholding with her the sword of the Spirit, while soldiers and officials,
with a few lawyers, supported the other sword. I was allowed to rest
awhile, by one of the magnificent doors where people came in to obtain
membership in the Universal Church, and whereat a tall angel was
doorkeeper. The interior of the church was lit up so brilliantly that
Hypocrisy dared not show her face therein, and though sometimes she
appeared at the threshold she never entered. Just as I saw, in the space
of a quarter of an hour, a Papist, who thought that the Catholic Church
belonged to the Pope, came and claimed its freedom. “What have you to
prove your right?” demanded the porter. “I have plenty of the traditions
of the fathers, and of councils of the church,” he answered, “but what
need I more certain than the word of the Pope, who sits in the infallible
chair?” Then the doorkeeper opened a huge Bible—a load in itself;
“This,” said he, “is our only statute book—prove your right from this or
go.” And he straightway departed.
Then came a flock of Quakers, who wished to enter with their hats on, but
were turned away for being so ill-mannered. After them some of the
barn-folk, who had been there only a short while, began to speak: “We
have the same statute book as ye have,” they averred, “and therefore show
us our privileged place.” “Stay,” said the bright porter, steadfastly
gazing on their foreheads, “I will show you something: see yon mark of
the rent ye made in the church when leaving it without cause or reason?
And would ye now have a place therein? Get ye back to the narrow gate,
and wash thoroughly in the well of repentance, to see if ye will reach
some of the royal blood ye erstwhile drank {36} and bring some of the
water of that well to moisten the clay, so as to make up yonder rent and
then ye are welcome.”
Before we had gone a rood westward I heard a noise coming from above,
from among the princes, and everybody, great and small, was taking up
arms and donning his armour as if for war, and ere I had time to cast
about me for a refuge, the whole sky became black, and the city darker
than when an eclipse befalls; the thunder roared, the lightning flashed
to and fro, and ceaseless showers of deadly shafts were directed from the
lower gates against the Catholic Church, and had there not been in each
man’s hand a shield to receive the fiery darts, and had the foundation
rock not been so strong that nothing could ever harm it, we all would
have become one burning mass. But alack, this was but a prologue or
foretaste of what was to follow; for suddenly the darkness became
sevenfold more intense, and Belial himself advanced in the densest cloud,
and around him his chief officers both earthly and infernal, ready to
receive and accomplish his behest at their several posts. He had
entrusted the Pope and his other son of France {37} with the destruction
of the Church of England and its queen; the Turks and Muscovites were to
strike at the other sections of the Church, and slay the people, and
especially the queen and the other princes, and above all to burn the
Bible. The first thing the queen and the other saints did was to bend
the knee and tell of their wrongs to the King of Kings in these words:
“The stretching out of his wings shall fill the breadth of thy land, oh
Emmanuel.” And immediately a voice replied: “Resist the devil and he
will flee from you.” And then commenced the greatest and most terrible
conflict that ever took place on earth. When the sword of the Spirit
began to be whirled round, Belial and his infernal hosts began to
retreat; then the Pope began to waver, while the King of France still
held out, though he too was almost giving up heart, seeing the queen and
her subjects so united, while he himself was losing ships and men on the
one hand, and on the other many of his subjects were in open revolt; and
the onslaught of the Turk also was becoming less fierce. Just then,
woe’s me, I saw my beloved companion shooting away from me into the
welkin to join a myriad other bright princes. Thereupon the Pope and the
other earthly commanders began to slink off and become prostrate through
fear, and the infernal princes to fall by the thousands. The noise of
each one falling seemed to me as if a great mountain fell into the depths
of the sea, and between this noise and the agitation on losing my friend,
I awoke from sleep, and returned to this oppressive sod, most
unwillingly, so pleasant and enjoyable it was to be a free spirit, and
above all to be in such company, notwithstanding the great danger I was
in. Now I had no one to comfort me save the Muse, and she was rather
moody—scarcely could I get her to bray out these lines that follow:—
Behold this wondrous edifice,
Both heaven and earth comprising,
The universe and all that is
At God’s command arising—
This world, with ramparts wide from pole to pole,
Down from its starry, brilliant dome,
E’en to the depths where angry billows roll,
And beasts that through the forest roam—
All things that sea and sky afford,
Thy faithful subjects eke to be;
A lesser heaven, a home for thee
Oh! man, creation’s lord.
But once that thou desired to know
The ways of sin, seductive,
The hellish tempter, to our woe,
Became a power destructive;
He cursed our earth and ruin brought on all,
Yea, very nature felt the bane—
Its blighted walls now totter to their fall,
And soon disorder rules again.
This earthly palace then at last,
Unroofed, dismantled and decayed,
A hideous, barren waste is laid
By desolation’s blast.
Behold oh, man! this glorious place
In the empyrean hovering
While all is but a treach’rous face
Foul swamps and quagmires covering.
Thy sin, that whelmed this earth in days of yore,
Shall draw upon it quenchless fire
With flaming torrents wildly rushing o’er—
A prey to conflagration dire;
If thou wouldst ’scape this dreadful fate,
I pray thee counsel take from me,
To Mercy’s city straightway flee
For life within its gate.
Behold that city’s peerless might
Withstanding all oppression—
Then flee thereto in thy sad plight,
Be free from sin’s possession.
Behold thy refuge in this dreary land
Where all may find true, peaceful rest,
A rock, impregnable on every hand,
Where perfect love reigns ever blest;
We sinful men, the way must search,
And there in faith for pardon pray,
And live a blissful, tranquil day
Within the Holy Church.