The Visions of Dom Francisco de Quevedo Villegas. Francisco de Quevedo
whelp of a lackey to the devil; but the devil will none of your lackeys, he thanks ye for your love; a pack of rogues that are commonly worse than devils, and to say the truth, they are good neither roast nor sodden. ‘I give that Italian to the devil,’ cries a third; thank you for nothing: for ye shall have an Italian will choose the devil himself, and take him by the nose like mustard. Some again will be giving a Spaniard to the devil; but he has been so cruel where-ever he has got footing, that we had rather have his room than his company, and make a present to the grand-signior of his nutmegs.”
Here the devil stopped, and in the same instant, there happening a slight scuffle, betwixt a couple of conceited coxcombs, which should go foremost: I turned to see the matter, and cast my eye upon a certain tax-gatherer, that had undone a friend of mine: and in some sort to revenge myself of this ass in a lion’s skin, I asked the devil, whether they had not of that sort of blood-suckers among the rest, in their dominions (an informing, projecting generation of men, and the very bane of a kingdom). “You know little,” says he, “if you do not know these vermin to be the right heirs of perdition, and that they claim hell for their inheritance: and yet we are now e’en upon the point of discarding them, for they are so pragmatical, and ungrateful, there’s no enduring of them. They are at this present in consultation about an impost upon the highway to hell; and indeed payments run so high already, and are so likely to increase too, that ’tis much feared in the end, we shall quite lose our trading and commerce. But if ever they come to put this in execution, we shall be so bold, as to treat them next bout, to the tune of ‘Fortune my foe,’ etc. and make them cool their heels on the wrong side of the door, which will be worse than hell to them, for it leaves them no retreat, being expelled paradise, and purgatory already.” “This race of vipers,” said I, “will never be quiet, till they tax the way to heaven itself.” “Oh,” quoth the devil, “that had been done long since, if they had found the play worth the candles: but they have had a factor abroad now these half-score years, that’s glad to wipe his nose on his sleeve still, for want of a handkerchief.” “But these new impositions, upon what I pray ye do they intend to levy them?” “For that,” quoth the devil, “there’s a gentleman of the trade at your elbow can tell you all;” pointing to my old friend the publican. This drew the eyes of the whole company upon him, and put him so damnedly out of countenance, that he plucked down his hat over his face, clapped his tail between his legs, and went his way; with which we were all of us well enough pleased, and then the devil went on. “Well,” said the devil, and laughed, “my voucher is departed ye see; but I think I can say as much to this point as himself; the impositions now to be set on foot, are upon bare-necked ladies, patches, mole-skins, Spanish-paper, and all the mundus muliebris more than what is necessary and decent; upon your tour à la mode, and spring garden coaches; excess in apparel, collations, rich furniture, your cheating, and blaspheming gaming ordinaries, and, in general, upon whatsoever serves to advance our empire; so that without a friend at court, or some good magistrate to help us out at a dead lift, and stick to us, we may e’en put up our pipes, and you’ll find hell a very desert.” “Well,” said I, “and methinks I see nothing in all this, but what is very reasonable; for to what end serves it but to corrupt good manners, stir up ill appetites, provoke and encourage all sorts of debauchery, destroy all that is good and honourable in humane society, and chalk out in effect the ready way to the devil.
“But you said something e’en now of magistrates, I hope,” said I, “there are no judges in hell.” “You may as well imagine,” cried the spirit, “that there are no devils there; for let me tell you (friend mine) your corrupt judges are the great spawners that supply our lake; for what are those millions of catchpoles, proctors, attorneys, clerks, barristers, that come sailing to us every day in shoals, but the fry of such judges! Nay sometimes, in a lucky year, for cheating, forging, and forswearing, we can hardly find cask to put them in.”
“From hence now,” quoth I, “would you infer, that there’s no justice upon the face of the earth.” “Very right,” quoth the devil, “for Astræa (which is the same thing) is fled long since to heaven. Do not ye know the story?” “No,” said I. “Then,” quoth the devil, “mind me and I’ll tell ye it.
“Once upon a time Truth and Justice came together to take up their quarters upon the earth: but the one being naked, and the other very severe and plain-dealing, they could not meet with anybody that would receive them. At last, when they had wandered a long time like vagabonds in the open air, Truth was glad to take up her lodging with a mute; and Justice, perceiving that though her name was much used for a cloak to knavery, yet that she herself was in no esteem, took up a resolution of returning to heaven: and in order to her journey, she bade adieu in the first place to all courts, palaces, and great cities, and went into the country, where she met with some few poor simple cottagers, that gave her entertainment; but malice and persecution found her out in the end, and she was banished thence too. She presented herself in many places, and people asked her what she was? She answered them, ‘Justice,’ for she would not lie for the matter. ‘Justice?’ cried they, ‘she is a stranger to us; tell her here’s nothing for her,’ and shut the door. Upon these repulses, she took wing, and away she went to heaven, hardly leaving so much as the bare print of her footsteps behind her. Her name however is not yet forgotten, and she’s pictured with a sceptre in her hand, and is still called Justice; but call her what ye will, she makes as good a fire in hell as a tailor; and for sleight of hand, puts down all the gilts, cheats, picklocks, and trepanners in the world: to say the truth, avarice is grown to that height, that men employ all the faculties of soul and body to rob and deceive. The lecher, does not he steal away the honour of his mistress? (though with her consent). The attorney picks your pocket, and shows you a law for’t; the comedian gets your money and your time, with reciting other men’s labours; the lover cozens you with his eyes; the eloquent, with his tongue; the valiant, with his arm; the musician, with his voice and fingers; the astrologer, with his calculations; the apothecary, with sickness and health; the surgeon, with blood; and the physician, with death itself; and in some sort or other, they are all cheats; but the catchpole (in the name of justice) abuses you with his whole man; he watches you with his eyes; follows you with his feet; seizes with his hands; accuses with his tongue; and in fine, put it in your litany, from catchpoles, as well as devils, libera nos domine.”
“But how comes it,” said I, “that you have not coupled the women with the thieves? for they are both of a trade.” “Not a word of women as ye love me,” quoth the devil, “for we are so tired out with their importunities; so deafened with the eternal clack of their tongues, that we start at the very thought of them. And to say the truth, hell were no ill winter quarter, if it were not so overstocked with that sort of cattle. Since the death of the Witch of Endor, it has been all their business to improve themselves in subtlety and malice, and to set us together by the ears among ourselves. Nay some of them are confident enough, to tell us to our teeth, that when we have done our worst, they’ll give us a Rowland for our Oliver. Only this comfort we have, that they are a cheaper plague to us, than they are to you; for we have no Exchanges, Hyde Parks, or Spring Gardens in our territories.”
“You are well stored then with women, I see, but of which have you most?” said I, “handsome, or ill-favoured?” “Oh, of the ill-favoured, six for one,” quoth the devil, “for your beauties can never want gallants to lay their appetites; and many of them, when they come at last to have their bellies full, e’en give over the sport, repent and ’scape. Whereas nobody will touch the ill-favoured without a pair of tongs; and for want of water to quench their fire, they come to us such skeletons, that they are enough to affright the devil himself. For they are most commonly, old, and accompany their last groans with a curse upon the younger that are to survive them. I carried away one t’other day of threescore and ten, that I took just in the nick, as she was upon a certain exercise to remove obstructions: and when I came to land her, alas for the poor woman! what a terrible fit had she got of the toothache! when upon search, the devil a tooth had she left in her head, only she belied her chops to save her credit.”
“You have exceedingly satisfied me,” said I, “in all your answers; but pray’e once again, what store of beggars have ye in hell? Poor people I mean.” “Poor,” quoth the devil, “who are they?” “Those,” said I, “that have no possessions in the world.”