There had been for some time a comparative silence in Hell, and the more cruel tortures had been suspended; but now the stillness which Lucifer had caused was broken, when the ghastly butchers rushed like wild hungry bears upon their prisoners. O then there arose an oh! oh! oh! a wail, and universal howling, more loud than the sound of cataracts, or the tumult of an earthquake, so that Hell became seven times more frightful. I should have swooned if my dear companion had not rendered me assistance. “Take now,” said he, “plenty of the water, that you may obtain strength to see things yet more horrible than these.” But scarcely had these words proceeded from his mouth, when, lo! the celestial Justice, who sits above the precipice keeping the gate of Hell, came scourging three men with a rod of fiery scorpions. “Ha! ha!” said Lucifer, “here are three right reverend gentlemen, whom Justice himself has deigned to conduct to my kingdom.” “Oh! woe is me,” said one of the three, “who asked him to trouble himself?” “Be it known,” said Justice, with a glance which made the devils tremble till they knocked one against another, “that it is the will of the Great Creator,
that I should myself bring these three accursed murderers to their home. Sirrah,” said he to one of the devils, “unbolt for me the prison of the murderers, where are Cain and Nero, Bonner, Bradshaw, Ignatius, and innumerable others of a similar description.” “Alas, alas! we never killed any body,” said one of the prisoners. “No, because you did not get time and because you were prevented,” said Justice. When the den was opened, there came out such a horrible puff of bloody flame, and such a yell as if a thousand dragons were giving their last gasp in their death agony. Into this den Justice hurled his prisoners; [93] and on his way back he breathed obliquely, such a tempest of fiery whirlwinds upon the Arch-Fiend and all his potentates, as he passed by them, that Lucifer, Beelzebub, Satan, Moloch, Abaddon, Asmodeus, Dagon, Apollyon, Belphegor, Mephistophiles, and all the other principal demons were whisked away, and tumbled headlong into a kind of gulf, which was opening and closing in the midst of the palace, and whose aspect was more horrible, and whose steam was more frightful than the aspect and vapour of any gulf which I had previously seen. Before I could enquire of the angel as to what it was, he said, “that is a hole which leads to another vast world.” “Pray,” said I, “what is the name of that world?” “It is called,” said he, “Unknown, or extremest Hell, the habitation of the devils, and the place to which they are at present gone. The vast wilderness, over part of which you have come, is called the country of Despair, a place intended for the lost until the Day of Judgment, when it will fall into extremest, bottomless Hell, and the two will become one. When that has happened
one of ourselves will come and close the gate of the whole region of horror upon the devils and the damned, which gate shall never, to all eternity, be opened for them. In the meantime, however, permission is given to the devils to come to these cooler regions, in order to torment the lost souls. Yea, they often obtain permission to go even into the air, and about the earth, to tempt men to the destructive paths, which lead to this dismal prison, from which there is no escape.” In the midst of this history, and whilst I was in great surprise at seeing the mouth of Unknown, so much surpassing in horror the jaws of upper Hell, I could hear a prodigious noise of arms, and loud discharges from one side, answered by what seemed to be hoarse thunders from the other; the rocks of Death, meanwhile, rebellowing the tumult.
“That is the sound of war,” said I. “Is there war then in Hell?” “There is,” said the angel; “and it is impossible that there should not be here continual war.” Whilst we were moving out, to see what was the matter, I beheld the mouth of Unknown opening, and casting up thousands of candles, burning with a frightful green flame. These were Lucifer and his potentates, who had contrived to subdue the tempest. But when the Arch Fiend heard the noise of war, he became more pale than Death, and began to call and gather together bands of his old experienced soldiers to quell the tumult. At this moment he stumbled against a little puppy of an imp, who had escaped between the feet of the combatants. “What is the matter?” said the king. “Such a matter as will endanger your crown, unless you look to yourself,” said the imp. Close behind him came another fiendish courier, bawling hoarsely, “you are plotting disquiet for others, look now to your own repose. Yonder are the
Turks, the Papists, and the bloody-handed Roundheads, in three bands, filling all the plains of the dark abodes, committing terrible outrages, and turning every thing topsy-turvy.” “How came they out?” said the Arch Fiend, looking worse than Demigorgon. “The Papists,” said the messenger, “broke out of their Purgatory, I do not know how; and then on account of an old grudge, they went to attack the back gate of the Paradise of Mahomet, and let all the Turks out of their prison; and afterwards, in the hubbub, the seed of Cromwell found some means to break out of their cells.” Then Lucifer turned about and looked under his throne, where were all the lost kings, and caused Cromwell to be kept close in his kennel; and likewise all the emperors of the Turks, under watch and ward. He then hastened with his legions along the black wilds of Darkness, each obtaining light from the fire which was incessantly tormenting his body. Guided by the horrid uproar, the fiends advanced courageously towards the combatants; then silence was enjoined in the name of the king, and Lucifer enquired, “what is the cause of this disturbance in my kingdom?” “Please, your infernal majesty,” said Mahomet, “a dispute arose between me and pope Leo, as to whether my Koran or the creed of Rome, had rendered you most service; and whilst we were at it, a pack of Roundheads broke their prison and put in their oar; asserting that their league and covenant, deserved more respect at your hands than either. Thus from disputing we have come to blows, and from words to arms. But at present, as your majesty has returned from Unknown, I will refer the matter to yourself.” “Stay, we shall not let you escape thus!” said pope Julius; and to it again they went, tooth and nail, in the most furious manner, till the
strokes were like an earthquake. O you should have seen the three armies of the damned, tearing one another to pieces over the expanse of the burning plains; and each individual body that was rent to pieces, becoming joined again serpent fashion. At last Lucifer caused his old soldiers, the champions of Hell, to pull them from each other, and it was no easy matter to do so.
When the tumult was hushed, pope Clement began to speak. “O emperor of Horrors! as no throne has ever performed more faithful and universal service to the infernal crown, over a great part of the world, for eleven hundred years, than the papal chair, I hope you will not suffer any one to contend with us for your favour.” “Well,” said a Scott of Cromwell’s army, “though the Koran has done great service for eight hundred years, and the superstition of the Pope for a much longer period, yet has the covenant done more since it came out, than the other two have ever done. Moreover it is notorious that, whilst the votaries of those two are every day rapidly diminishing, the followers of the covenant are increasing in numbers, over the whole face of the world, and particularly in the island of your enemies Britain, whose capital, London, the most noble city under the sun, abounds with them.” “Pshaw, pshaw!” said Lucifer, “if I am rightly informed, the covenant itself is under a cloud, and you are no longer what you were. And now I have one thing to tell the whole of you—which is, that, whatever ye may do in other kingdoms, I will not permit you to trouble mine. Therefore rest peaceably, under penalty of worse torments corporeal and spiritual.” At those words many of the devils dropped their tails between their hoofs, and all the damned sneaked away to their holes, for fear of a change for the worse.
After causing the whole of them to be locked up in their prisons, and the careless wardens to be deprived of their office, for having permitted them to break out, Lucifer and his counsellors returned to the palace, and sat down again, according to their rank, upon their fiery thrones. After silence had been called and the place cleared, a huge, wry-shouldered devil, placed a back-load of fresh prisoners before the bar. “Is this the road to Paradise,” said one, (for they all pretended not to know where they were.) “Or if this be Purgatory,” said another, “we have with us an authority, under the hand of the Pope, to go straight to Paradise without tarrying any where a minute. Therefore show us the way, or, by the Pope’s toe, we will cause him to punish you.” Ha! ha! ha!—ho! ho! ho! said eight hundred devils; and Lucifer himself, parted his jaws half a yard in a kind of bitter laugh. The others were confounded at this; but one said, “well, if we have lost our way in the darkness, we would pay any one who would guide us.” “Ha! ha!” said Lucifer, “you will pay the last farthing before ye go.” Thereupon each fell to searching for his money, but found, to his sorrow, that he had left his breeches behind him. Quoth the Arch Fiend, “you left Paradise on the left hand, above the lofty mountains; and, notwithstanding, it was so easy to come down here, it is next to impossible to go back, owing to the nature of the country, through which the road back lies. For it is a country abounding with mountains of burning iron, immense dismal crags, sheets of eternal ice, and roaring, headlong cataracts; a country, in short, far too difficult for you to travel, unless indeed you have talons of the true devilish length. Come, come,” said he to his myrmidons, “take these blockheads to our paradise, to their companions.”
At this moment I could hear the voice of some people who were coming, swearing and cursing in a frightful manner. “O the Devil! the blood of the Devil! a hundred thousand devils! a thousand million devils take me if I will go farther!” but, nevertheless, they were cast slap down before the judge. “Here you have,” said the carrier, “a load of as good fire wood as the best in Hell.” “What are they?” said Lucifer. “Masters of the genteel art of cursing and swearing,” replied the devil; “men who understand the language of Hell quite as well as ourselves.” “You lie in your mouth, by the Devil!” said one of them. “Sirrah! do you take my name in vain?” said the Arch Fiend. “Quick! and hang them by their tongues to the burning precipice yonder, and if they call for the Devil, be ready to serve them; yea, if they call for a thousand, let them be satisfied.” When these were gone, lo! a giant of a devil vociferated to have the bar cleared, and flung down a man whom he bore. “What have you brought there?” said Lucifer. “A tavern-keeper,” replied the other. “What,” said the king, “one tavern-keeper! Why they are in the habit of coming to the tune of five or six thousand. Have you not been out, sirrah, for ten years, and yet you bring us but one? and he one who has done us much more service in the world than yourself, you lazy, stinking dog!” “You are too ready to condemn me, before listening to me,” he replied. “This fellow only was given to my charge, and, behold! I am clear of him. But still I have sent to you from his house, many a worthless chap, after guzzling down the maintenance of his family; many a dicer and card-player; many a genteel swearer; many a pleasant, good kind of belly god; and many a careless servant.” “Well,” said the Arch Fiend, “though the tavern-keeper has merited to be amongst
the flatterers below us, take him at present to his brethren, in the cell of the liquid murderers; to the thousands of apothecaries and poisoners, who are there for making drink to kill their customers—boil him well for not having brewed better ale.” “With your permission,” said the tavern-keeper shivering, “I have deserved no such treatment. Must not every trade live?” “And could you not live,” said the Fiend, “without encouraging dissipation and gaming, uncleanness, drunkenness, oaths, quarrels, slander and lies? and would you, hell-hound, live at present better than ourselves! Pray what evil have we here that you had not at home, the punishment solely excepted? And having told you this bitter truth, I will add, that the infernal heat and cold were not unknown to you either.