God covered sun, moon, and stars, stilled the growing things of the
earth and dried up the waters on the face of the earth, and stopped the
roll of the world; and He fixed upon a measure of time in which to judge
the peoples, this being the measure which was spoken of as the Day of
Judgment.
In the meanseason He summoned Satan to the Judgment Hall, which is at
the side of the river that breaks into four heads, and above which, its
pulpits stretching beyond the sky, is the Palace of White Shirts, and
below which, in deep darknesses, are the frightful regions of the Fiery
Oven. "Give an account of your rule in the face of those whom you
provoked to mischief," He said to Satan. "My balance hitched to a beam
will weigh the good and evil of my children, and if good is heavier
than evil, I shall lighten your countenance and clothe you with the
robes of angels."
"Awake the dead" He bade the Trumpeter, and "Lift the lids off the
burying-places" He bade the laborers. In their generations were they
called; "for," said the Lord, "good and evil are customs of a period and
when the period is passed and the next is come, good may be evil and
evil may be good."
Now God did not put His entire trust in Satan, and in the evening of the
day He set to prove him: "It is over."
"My Lord, so be it," answered Satan.
"How now?" asked God.
"The scale of wickedness sways like a kite in the wind," cried Satan.
"Give me my robes and I will transgress against you no more."
"In the Book of Heaven and Hell," said God, "there is no writing of the
last of the Welsh."
Satan spoke up: "My Lord, your pledge concerned those judged on the Day
of Judgment. Day is outing. The windows of the Mansion are lit; hark the
angels tuning their golden strings for the cheer of the Resurrection
Supper. Give me my robes that I may sing your praises."
"Can I not lengthen the day with a wink of my eye?"
"All things you can do, my Lord, but observe your pledge to me. Allow
these people to rest a while longer. Their number together with the
number of their sins is fewer than the hairs on Elisha's head."
God laughed in His heart as He replied to Satan: "Tell the Trumpeter to
take his horn and the laborers their spades and bring to me the Welsh."
The laborers digged, and at the sound of the horn the dead breathed and
heaved. Those whose wit was sharp hurried into neighboring chapels and
stole Bibles and hymn-books, with which in their pockets and under
their arms they joined the host in Heaven's Courtyard, whence they went
into the Waiting Chamber that is without the Judgment Hall.
"Boy bach, a lot of Books of the Word he has," a woman remarked to the
Respected Towy-Watkins. "Say him I have one."
"Happy would I be to do like that," was the reply. "But, female, much
does the Large One regard His speeches. What is the text on the wall?
'Prepare your deeds for the Lord.' The Beybile is the most religious
deed. Farewell for now," and he pretended to go away.
Holding the sleeve of his White Shirt, the woman separated her toothless
gums and fashioned her wrinkled face in grief. "Two tens he has," she
croaked. "And his shirt is clean. Dirty am I; buried I was as I was
found, and the shovelers beat the soil through the top of the coffin. Do
much will I for one Beybile."
"A poor dab you are," said Towy.
"Many deeds you have? But no odds to me."
"Four I have."
"Woe for you, unfortunate."
"Iss-iss, horrid is my plight," the woman whined. "Little I did for
Him."
"Don't draw tears. For eternity you'll weep. Here is a massive Beybile
for your four deeds."
"Take him one. Handy will three be in the minute of the questioning."
"Refusing the Beybile bach you are. Also the hymn-book--old and new
notations--I present for four. Stupid am I as the pigger's prentice who
bought the litter in the belly."
"Be him soft and sell for one."
"I cannot say less. No relation you are to me. Hope I do that right
enough are your four. Recite them to me, old woman."
"I ate rats to provide a Beybile to the Respected," the woman trembled.
"I--"
"You are pathetic," Towy said. "Hie and get your tokens and have that
poor one will I because of my pity for you."
The woman told her deeds in Heaven's Record Office, and she was given
four white tablets on which her deeds were inscribed; and the rat tablet
Towy took from her. "Faith and hope are tidy heifers," he said, "but a
stallion is charity. Priceless Beybile I give you, sinner."
As he moved away Towy cried in the manner of one selling by auction:
"This is the beloved Beybile of Jesus. This is the book of hymns--old
and new notations. Hymns harvest, communion, funerals, Sunday schools,
and hymns for children bach are here. Treasures bulky for certain."
For some he received three tablets each, for some five tablets each, and
for some ten tablets each. But the gaudy Bible which was decorated with
pictures and ornamented with brass clasps and a leather covering he did
not sell; nor did he sell the gilt-edged hymn-book. Between the leaves
of his Bible he put his tablets--as a preacher his markers--the writing
on each tablet confirming a verse in the place it was set. His labor
over, he chanted: "Pen Calvaria! Pen Calvaria! Very soon will come to
view." Men and women gazed upon him, envying him; and those who had
Bibles and hymn-books hastened to do as he had done.
Among the many that came to him was one whose name was Ben Lloyd.
"Dear me," said Towy.
"Dear me," said Ben.
"Fat is my religion after the springing," cried Towy. "Perished was I
and up again. Amen, Big Man. Amen and amen. And amen.
"I opened my eyes and I saw a hand thrusting aside the firmament and I
heard One calling me from the beyond, and the One was God."
"Like the roar of heated bulls was the noise, Ben bach."
"Praise Him I did that I was laid to rest at home. Away from the stir
of Parliament. Tell Him I will how my spirit, though the flesh was dead,
bathed in the living rivers and walked in the peaceful valleys of the
glorious land of my fathers--thinking, thinking of Jesus."
"Hold on. Not so fast. From Capel Bryn Salem I journeyed to mouth with
my heart to the Lord, and your slut of widow paid me only four soferens.
Eloquent sermon I spouted and four soferens is the price of a supply."
"In your charity forgive her; her sorrow was o'erpowering."
"Sorrow! The mule of an English! She wasn't there."
"You don't say," cried Ben. "If above she is I will have her dragged
down."
"Not a stone did she put over your head, and the strumpets of your
sisters did not tend your grave. Why you were not eaten by worms I can't
know."
On a sudden Towy shouted: "See an old parson do I. Is not this the day
of rising up? Awful if the Big Man mistakes us for the Church. Not been
inside a church have I, drop dead and blind, since I was born."
None gave heed to his cry, for the sound of the bargaining was most
high. "Dissenters," he bellowed, "what right have Church heathens to mix
with us? The Fiery Oven is their home."
The people were dismayed. Their number being small, the Church folk were
pressed one upon the other; and after they were thrown in a mass against
the gate of the Chariot House the Dissenters spread themselves easily as
far as the door of the Crooked Stairway.
"Now, boys capel," Towy-Watkins said, "we will have a sermon. Fine will
Welsh be in the nostrils of the Big Preacher. Pray will I at once."
The prayer ended, and one struck his tuning-fork; and while the
congregation moaned and lamented, a tall man, who wore the habit of a
preacher and whose yellow beard--the fringe of which was singed--hung
over his breast like a sheaf of wheat, passed through the way of the
door of the Stairway, and as he walked towards the Judgment Hall, some
said: "Fair day, Respected," and some said: "Similar he is to
Towy-Watkins."
"Shut your throats, colts," Towy rebuked the people. "Say after me: 'Go
round my backhead, Satan.'"
"Go round my backhead, Satan," the people obeyed.
"Catch him and skin him," Towy screamed. "Teach him we will to snook
about here."
Fear arming his courage, Satan shouted: "He who hurts me him shall I
pitch head-long to the flames." The people's hands went to their sides,
and Satan departed in peace.
"In my heart is my head," Towy said. "Near the Oven we are. Blow your
noses of the stench. Young youths, herd blockheads Church over here."
Before the stalwarts started on their errand, the Overseer of the
Waiting Chamber came to the door of the lane that takes you into the
Judgment Hall, wherefore the Dissenters wept, howled, and whooped.
"Ready am I, God bach," Towy exclaimed, stretching his hairy arms. "Take
me."
"Patiently I waited for the last Trump and humbly do I now wait for the
Crown from your fingers," said Ben Lloyd. "My deeds are recorded in the
archives of the House of Commons and the Cymrodorion Society."
"Clap up," Towy admonished Ben. "My religious actions can't be counted."