Then Jurgen went back to Chorasma, where Coth, the son of Smoit and
Steinvor, stood conscientiously in the midst of the largest and
hottest flame he had been able to imagine, and rebuked the outworn
devils who were tormenting him, because the tortures they inflicted
were not adequate to the wickedness of Coth.
And Jurgen cried to his father: "The lewd fiend Cannagosta told you
I was the Emperor of Noumaria, and I do not deny it even now. But do
you not perceive I am likewise your son Jurgen?"
"Why, so it is," said Coth, "now that I look at the rascal. And how,
Jurgen, did you become an emperor?"
"Oh, sir, and is this a place wherein to talk about mere earthly
dignities? I am surprised your mind should still run upon these
empty vanities even here in torment."
"But it is inadequate torment, Jurgen, such as does not salve my
conscience. There is no justice in this place, and no way of getting
justice. For these shiftless devils do not take seriously that which
I did, and they merely pretend to punish me, and so my conscience
stays unsatisfied."
"Well, but, father, I have talked with them, and they seem to think
your crimes do not amount to much, after all."
Coth flew into one of his familiar rages. "I would have you know
that I killed eight men in cold blood, and held five other men while
they were being killed. I estimate the sum of such iniquity as ten
and a half murders, and for these my conscience demands that I be
punished."
"Ah, but, sir, that was fifty years or more ago, and these men would
now be dead in any event, so you see it does not matter now."
"I went astray with women, with I do not know how many women."
Jurgen shook his head. "This is very shocking news for a son to
receive, and you can imagine my feelings. None the less, sir, that
also was fifty years ago, and nobody is bothering over it now."
"You jackanapes, I tell you that I swore and stole and forged and
burned four houses and broke the Sabbath and was guilty of mayhem
and spoke disrespectfully to my mother and worshipped a stone image
in Porutsa. I tell you I shattered the whole Decalogue, time and
again. I committed all the crimes that were ever heard of, and
invented six new ones."
"Yes, sir," said Jurgen: "but, still, what does it matter if you
did?"
"Oh, take away this son of mine!" cried Coth: "for he is his mother
all over again; and though I was the vilest sinner that ever lived,
I have not deserved to be plagued twice with such silly questions.
And I demand that you loitering devils bring more fuel."
"Sir," said a panting little fiend, in the form of a tadpole with
hairy arms and legs like a monkey's, as he ran up with four bundles
of faggots, "we are doing the very best we can for your discomfort.
But you damned have no consideration for us, and do not remember
that we are on our feet day and night, waiting upon you," said the
little devil, whimpering, as with his pitchfork he raked up the fire
about Coth. "You do not even remember the upset condition of the
country, on account of the war with Heaven, which makes it so hard
for us to get you all the inconveniences of life. Instead, you
lounge in your flames, and complain about the service, and
Grandfather Satan punishes us, and it is not fair."
"I think, myself," said Jurgen, "you should be gentler with the boy.
And as for your crimes, sir, come, will you not conquer this pride
which you nickname conscience, and concede that after any man has
been dead a little while it does not matter at all what he did? Why,
about Bellegarde no one ever thinks of your throat-cutting and
Sabbath-breaking except when very old people gossip over the fire,
and your wickedness brightens up the evening for them. To the rest
of us you are just a stone in the churchyard which describes you as
a paragon of all the virtues. And outside of Bellegarde, sir, your
name and deeds mean nothing now to anybody, and no one anywhere
remembers you. So really your wickedness is not bothering any person
now save these poor toiling devils: and I think that, in
consequence, you might consent to put up with such torments as they
can conveniently contrive, without complaining so ill-temperedly
about it."
"Ah, but my conscience, Jurgen! that is the point."
"Oh, if you continue to talk about your conscience, sir, you
restrict the conversation to matters I do not understand, and so
cannot discuss. But I dare say we will find occasion to thresh out
this, and all other matters, by and by: and you and I will make the
best of this place, for now I will never leave you."
Coth began to weep: and he said that his sins in the flesh had been
too heinous for this comfort to be permitted him in the unendurable
torment which he had fairly earned, and hoped some day to come by.
"Do you care about me, one way or the other, then?" says Jurgen,
quite astounded.
And from the midst of his flame Coth, the son of Smoit, talked of
the birth of Jurgen, and of the infant that had been Jurgen, and of
the child that had been Jurgen. And a horrible, deep, unreasonable
emotion moved in Jurgen as he listened to the man who had begotten
him, and whose flesh was Jurgen's flesh, and whose thoughts had not
ever been Jurgen's thoughts: and Jurgen did not like it. Then the
voice of Coth was bitterly changed, as he talked of the young man
that had been Jurgen, of the young man who was idle and rebellious
and considerate of nothing save his own light desires; and of the
division which had arisen between Jurgen and Jurgen's father Coth
spoke likewise: and Jurgen felt better now, but was still grieved to
know how much his father had once loved him.
"It is lamentably true," says Jurgen, "that I was an idle and
rebellious son. So I did not follow your teachings. I went astray,
oh, very terribly astray. I even went astray, sir I must tell you,
with a nature myth connected with the Moon."
"Oh, hideous abomination of the heathen!"
"And she considered, sir, that thereafter I was likely to become a
solar legend."
"I should not wonder," said Coth, and he shook his bald and dome-shaped
head despondently. "Ah, my son, it simply shows you what comes of these
wild courses."
"And in that event, I would, of course, be released from sojourning
in the underworld by the Spring Equinox. Do you not think so, sir?"
says Jurgen, very coaxingly, because he remembered that, according
to Satan, whatever Coth believed would be the truth in Hell.
"I am sure," said Coth--"why, I am sure I do not know anything about
such matters."
"Yes, but what do you think?"
"I do not think about it at all."
"Yes, but--"
"Jurgen, you have a very uncivil habit of arguing with people--"
"Still, sir--"
"And I have spoken to you about it before--"
"Yet, father--"
"And I do not wish to have to speak to you about it again--"
"None the less, sir--"
"And when I say that I have no opinion--"
"But everybody has an opinion, father!" Jurgen shouted this, and
felt it was quite like old times.
"How dare you speak to me in that tone of voice, sir!"
"But I only meant--"
"Do not lie to me, Jurgen! and stop interrupting me! For, as I was
saying when you began to yell at your father as though you were
addressing an unreasonable person, it is my opinion that I know
nothing whatever about Equinoxes! and do not care to know anything
about Equinoxes, I would have you understand! and that the less said
as to such disreputable topics the better, as I tell you to your
face!"
And Jurgen groaned. "Here is a pretty father! If you had thought so,
it would have happened. But you imagine me in a place like this, and
have not sufficient fairness, far less paternal affection, to
imagine me out of it."
"I can only think of your well merited affliction, you quarrelsome
scoundrel! and of the host of light women with whom you have sinned!
and of the doom which has befallen you in consequence!"
"Well, at worst," says Jurgen, "there are no women here. That ought
to be a comfort to you."
"I think there are women here," snapped his father. "It is reputed
that quite a number of women have had consciences. But these
conscientious women are probably kept separate from us men, in some
other part of Hell, for the reason that if they were admitted into
Chorasma they would attempt to tidy the place and make it habitable.
I know your mother would have been meddling out of hand."
"Oh, sir, and must you still be finding fault with mother?"
"Your mother, Jurgen, was in many ways an admirable woman. But,"
said Coth, "she did not understand me."
"Ah, well, that may have been the trouble. Still, all this you say
about women being here is mere guess-work."
"It is not!" said Coth, "and I want none of your impudence, either.
How many times must I tell you that?"
Jurgen scratched his ear reflectively. For he still remembered what
Grandfather Satan had said, and Coth's irritation seemed promising.
"Well, but the women here are all ugly, I wager."
"They are not!" said his father, angrily. "Why do you keep
contradicting me?"
"Because you do not know what you are talking about," says Jurgen,
egging him on. "How could there be any pretty women in this horrible
place? For the soft flesh would be burned away from their little
bones, and the loveliest of queens would be reduced to a horrid
cinder."
"I think there are any number of vampires and succubi and such
creatures, whom the flames do not injure at all, because these
creatures are informed with an ardor that is unquenchable and is
more hot than fire. And you understand perfectly what I mean, so
there is no need for you to stand there goggling at me like a
horrified abbess!"
"Oh, sir, but you know very well that I would have nothing to do
with such unregenerate persons."
"I do not know anything of the sort. You are probably lying to me.
You always lied to me. I think you are on your way to meet a vampire
now."
"What, sir, a hideous creature with fangs and leathery wings!"
"No, but a very poisonous and seductively beautiful creature."
"Come, now! you do not really think she is beautiful."
"I do think so. How dare you tell me what I think and do not think!"
"Ah, well, I shall have nothing to do with her."
"I think you will," said his father: "ah, but I think you will be up
to your tricks with her before this hour is out. For do I not know
what emperors are? and do I not know you?"
And Coth fell to talking of Jurgen's past, in the customary terms of
a family squabble, such as are not very nicely repeatable elsewhere.
And the fiends who had been tormenting Coth withdrew in
embarrassment, and so long as Coth continued talking they kept out
of earshot.
37.