The Visions of Dom Francisco de Quevedo Villegas

by Francisco de Quevedo

It was not here, as upon t’other road, where folks went barefoot and naked, for want of shoemakers and tailors, for here were enow, and to spare; beside mercers, drapers, jewellers, bodice-makers, peruke-makers, milliners, and a French ordinary at every other door. You cannot imagine the pleasure I took in my new acquaintance; and yet there was now and then some justling and disorder upon the way, chiefly between the physicians upon their mules, and the infantry of the lawyers, that marched in great bodies before the judges, and contested for place. But the physicians carried it in favour of their charter, which gives them privilege to study, practise, and teach the art of poisoning, and to read lectures of it in the universities. While this point of honour was in dispute, I perceived divers crossing from one way to the other, and changing of parties. Some of them stumbled and recovered; others fell down right. But the pleasantest gambol of all was that of the vintners. A whole litter of them tumbled into a pit together, one over another, but finding they were out of their element, they got up again as fast as they could. Those that were in the right-hand way, which was the way of paradise, or virtue, advanced very heavily, and made us excellent sport. “Prithee look what a Friday-face that fellow makes!” cries one; “Hang him, prick-eared cur,” says another; “Damn me,” cries a third, “if the rogue be not drunk with holy water;” “If the devil had raked hell, he could not have found such a pack of ill-looked rascals,” says another. Some of them stopped their ears, and went on without minding us. Others we put out of countenance, and they came over to us. And a third sort came out of pure love to our company.

After this, I observed a great many people afar off in a by-path: with as much contrition and devotion in their looks and gestures as ever I saw in men. They walked shaking their heads, and lifting up their hands to heaven; and they had most of them large ears, and, to my thinking, Geneva Bibles. These, thought I, are a people of singular integrity, and strictness of life, above their fellows; but coming nearer, we found them to be hypocrites; and that though they’d none of our company upon the road, they would not fail to meet us at our journey’s end. Fasting, repentance, prayer, mortification, and other holy duties, which are the exercise of good Christians, in order to their salvation, are but a kind of probation to these men, to fit them for the devil. They were followed by a number of devotees, and holy sisters, that kissed the skirts of their garments all the way they went, but whether out of zeal, spiritual, or natural, is hard to say; and undoubtedly, some women’s kisses are worse than Judas’s. For though his kiss was treacherous in the intention, it was right yet in the application: but this was one Judas kissing another, which makes me think there was more of the flesh than of the spirit in the case. Some would be drawing a thread now and then out of the holy man’s garment, to make a relic of. Others would cut out large snips, as if they had a mind to see them naked. Some again desired they would remember them in their prayers; which was just as much as if they had commended themselves to the devil by a third person. Some prayed for good matches for their daughters; others begged children for themselves: and sure the husband that allows his wife to ask children abroad will be so civil as to take them home, when they are given him. In fine, these hypocrites may for a while perchance impose upon the world, and delude the multitude; but no mask or disguise is proof against the all-piercing eye of the Almighty. There are I must confess many religious and godly men, for whose persons and prayers I have a great esteem. But these are not of the hypocrites’ humour, to build their hopes and ambition upon popular applause, and with a counterfeit humility, to proclaim their weakness and unworthiness; their failings; yea and their transgressions in the market-place; all which is indeed but a true jest; for they are really what they say, though they would not be thought so.

These went apart, and were looked upon to be neither fish nor flesh nor good red-herring. They wore the name of Christians; but they had neither the wit nor the honesty of pagans. For they content themselves with the pleasures of this life, because they know no better. But the hypocrite, that’s instructed both in the life temporal and eternal, lives without either comfort in the one, or hope in the other; and takes more pains to be damned than a good Christian does to compass his salvation. In short, we went on our way in discourse. The rich followed their wealth, and the poor the rich; begging there what Providence had denied them. The stubborn and obstinate went away by themselves, for they would hear nobody that was wiser than themselves, but ran huddling on, and pressed still to be foremost. The magistrates drew after them all the solicitors and attorneys. Corrupt judges were carried away by passion and avarice. And vain and ambitious princes trailed along with them principalities and commonwealths. There were a world of clergy upon this road too. And I saw one full regiment of soldiers there, which would have been brave fellows indeed, if they had but been half so good at praying and fighting, as they were at swearing. Their whole discourse was of their adventures, how narrowly they came off at such an assault; what wounds they received upon t’other breach; and then what a destruction they made at such a time, of mutton and poultry. But all they said came in at one ear and went out at t’other. “Don’t you remember, sirrah,” says one, “how we clawed it away at such a place!” “Yes, ye damned rogue you,” cries t’other, “when you were so drunk you took your aunt for the bawd.” These and such as these were the only exploits they could truly brag of.

While they were upon these glorious rhodomontades, certain generous spirits from the right-hand way, that knew what they were, by the boxes of passports, testimonials, and recommendations they wore at their girdles, cried out to them, as if it had been to an attack: “Fall on, fall on, my lads, and follow me. This, this is the path of honour, and if you were not poltroons you would not quit it for fear of a hard march, or an ill lodging. Courage comrades; and be assured that this combat well fought makes all your fortunes, and crowns ye for ever. Here, ye shall be sure both of pay and reward, without casting the issue of all your hazards and hopes upon the empty promises of princes. How long will ye pursue this trade of blood and rapine? And accustom your ears and tongues to the tragical outcries of, Burn; No quarter; Kill, or Die. It is not pay, or pillage, but Virtue that’s a brave man’s recompense. Trust to her, and she’ll not deceive ye. If it be the war ye love, come to us; bear arms on the right side, and we’ll find you work. Do not you know that man’s life is a warfare? That the world, the flesh, and the devil, are three vigilant enemies? And that it is as much as his soul is worth, to put himself, but for one minute, out of his guard. Princes tell ye, that your bloods and your lives are theirs, and that to shed the one, and lose the other, in their service, is no obligation, but a duty. You are still however to look to the cause; wherefore turn head, and come along with us, and be happy.” The soldiers heard all this with exceeding patience and attention; but the brand of cowardice had such an effect upon them, that without any more ado, like men of honour, they presently quitted the road; drew; and as bold as lions, charged headlong into a tavern.

After this, we saw a great troop of women, upon the highway to hell, with their bags and their fellows, at their heels, ever and anon hunching and justling one another. On the other side, a number of good people, that were almost at the end of their journey, came over into the wrong road; for the right-hand way growing easier and wider toward the end, and that on the left hand, on the contrary, narrower, they thought they had been out of their way, and so came in to us; as many of ours went over to them, upon the same mistake. Among the rest, I saw a great lady, without either coach, sedan, or any living creature with her, foot it all the way to hell: which was to me so great a wonder, considering how she had lived in the world, that I presently looked about for a public notary to make an entry of it. The woman was in a most miserable pickle; and I did not know what design she might drive on, under that disguise; but finding never a notary, or register at hand, though I missed my particular aim, yet I was well enough pleased with it, for I took it then for granted that I was in my ready way to heaven. But when I came afterward to reflect upon the crosses, afflictions, and mortifications, that lie in the way to paradise; and to consider that there was nothing of that upon this road; but on the contrary, laughing, singing, frollicking, and all manner of jollity: this I must confess gave me a qualm, and made me a little doubtful whither I was going.

But I was quickly delivered of that doubt by a gang of married men, that we overtook with their wives in their hands, in evidence of their mortifications: “My wife’s my witness,” cries one, “that every day since I married her has been a fasting day to me; to pamper her with cock-broth, and jellies. And my wife knows how I have humbled my body by nakedness; for I have hardly allowed myself a rag to my backside; or a shoe to my foot, to maintain her in her coach, pages, gowns, petticoats, and jewels.” So that upon the matter, I perceive an unlucky hit with a wife gives a man as much right to the catalogue of martyrs, as if he had ended his days at the stake.

The misery these poor wretches endured made me think myself in the right again; till I heard a cry behind me, “Make way there; make way for the ’pothecaries.” Bless me, thought I, if they be here, we are certainly going to the devil. And so it proved, for we were just then come to a little door, that was made like a mousetrap, where ’twas easy to get in, but there was no getting out again.

It was a strange thing, that scarce anybody so much as dreamt of hell, all the way we went; and yet everybody knew where they were, as soon as they came there; and cried out with one voice, “Miserable creatures! we are damned, we are damned.” That word made my heart ache; and is it come to that? said I. Then did I begin with tears in my eyes to reflect upon what I had left in the world, as my relations, friends, ladies, mistresses, and in fine, all my old acquaintance: when with a heavy sigh, looking behind me, I saw the greater part of them posting after me. It gave me, methought, some comfort, that I should have so good company; vainly imagining that even hell itself might be capable of some relief.

Going farther on I was gotten into a crowd of tailors, that stood up sneaking in a corner, for fear of the devils. At the first door, there were seven devils, taking the names of those that came in; and they asked me mine, and my quality, and so they let me pass. But, examining the tailors, “These fellows,” cried one of the devils, “come in such shoals, as if hell were made only for tailors.” “How many are they?” says another. Answer was made, “About a hundred.” “About a hundred? They must be more than a hundred,” says t’other, “if they be tailors; for they never come under a thousand, or twelve hundred strong. And we have so many here already, I do not know where we shall ’stow them. Say the word, my masters, shall’s let them in or no?” The poor prick-lice were damnedly startled at that, for fear they should not get in: but in the end, they had the favour to be admitted. “Certainly,” said I, “these folks are but in an ill condition, when ’tis a menace for the devils themselves to refuse to receive them.” Thereupon a huge, overgrown, club-footed, crump-shouldered devil, threw them all into a deep hole. Seeing such a monster of a devil, I asked him how he came to be so deformed. And he told me, he had spoiled his back with carrying of tailors: “for,” said he, “I have been formerly made use of as a sumpter to fetch them; but now of late they save me that labour, and come so fast of themselves, that ’tis one devil’s work to dispose of them.” While the word was yet speaking, there came another glut of them, and I was fain to make way, that the devil might have room to work in, who piled them up, and told me they made the best fuel in hell.

I passed forward then into a little dark alley, where it made me start to hear one call me by my name, and with much ado I perceived a fellow there all wrapt up in smoke and flame. “Alas! sir,” says he; “have you forgotten your old bookseller in Popes-Head Alley?” “I cry thee mercy, good Livowell,” quoth I, “what? art thou here?” “Yes, sir,” says he, “’tis e’en too true. I never dreamt it would have come to this.” He thought I must needs pity him, when I knew him: but truly I reflected rather upon the justice of his punishment. For in a word, his shop was the very mint of heresy, schism, and sedition. I put on a face of compassion however, to give him a little ease, which he took hold of, and vented his complaint. “Well sir,” says he, “I would my father had made me a hangman, when he made me a stationer; for we are called to account for other men’s works, as well as for our own. And one thing that’s cast in our dish, is the selling of translations, so dog cheap, that every sot knows now as much as would formerly have made a passable doctor, and every nasty groom and roguey lackey is grown as familiar with Homer, Virgil, Ovid, as if ’twere Robin the Devil, The Seven Champions, or a piece of George Withers.” He would have talked on, if a devil had not stopped his mouth with a whiff from a roll of his own papers, and choked him with the smoke on’t. The pestilent fume would have dispatched me too, if I had not got presently out of the reach on’t. But I went my way, saying this to myself, If the bookseller be thus criminal, what will become of the author!