History of Spanish Literature, vol. 2 (of 3)Ticknor, George
History
History of Spanish Literature, vol. 2 (of 3)
Ticknor, George
Spanish literature -- History and criticism
“Methought I saw,” he says, “a fair youth borne with prodigious speed
through the heavens, who gave a blast to his trumpet so violent, that
the radiant beauty of his countenance was in part disfigured by it.
But the sound was of such power, that it found obedience in marble and
hearing among the dead; for the whole earth began straightway to move,
and to give free permission to the bones it contained to come forth
in search of each other. And thereupon I presently saw those who had
been soldiers and captains start fiercely from their graves, thinking
it a signal for battle; and misers coming forth, full of anxiety and
alarm, dreading some onslaught; while those who were given to vanity
and feasting thought, from the shrillness of the sound, that it was a
call to the dance or the chase. At least, so I interpreted the looks
of each of them, as they started forth; nor did I see one, to whose
ears the sound of that trumpet came, who understood it to be what it
really was. Soon, however, I noted the way in which certain souls fled
from their former bodies; some with loathing, and others with fear.
In one an arm was missing, in another an eye; and while I was moved
to laughter as I saw the varieties of their appearance, I was filled
with wonder at the wise providence which prevented any one of them,
all shuffled together as they were, from putting on the legs or other
limbs of his neighbours. In one grave-yard alone I thought that there
was some changing of heads, and I saw a notary whose soul did not quite
suit him, and who wanted to get rid of it by declaring it to be none of
his.
“But when it was fairly understood of all that this was the Day of
Judgment, it was worth seeing how the voluptuous tried to avoid
having their eyes found for them, that they need not bring into court
witnesses against themselves,--how the malicious tried to avoid their
own tongues, and how robbers and assassins seemed willing to wear
out their feet in running away from their hands. And turning partly
round, I saw one miser asking another, (who, having been embalmed and
his bowels left at a distance, was waiting silently till they should
arrive), whether, because the dead were to rise that day, certain
money-bags of his must also rise. I should have laughed heartily at
this, if I had not, on the other side, pitied the eagerness with
which a great rout of notaries rushed by, flying from their own ears,
in order to avoid hearing what awaited them, though none succeeded
in escaping, except those who in this world had lost their ears as
thieves, which, owing to the neglect of justice, was by no means the
majority. But what I most wondered at was, to see the bodies of two or
three shop-keepers, that had put on their souls wrong side out, and
crowded all five of their senses under the nails of their right hands.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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