The Sleeping Bard; Or, Visions of the World, Death, and HellWynne, Ellis
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The Sleeping Bard; Or, Visions of the World, Death, and Hell
Wynne, Ellis
Allegories; Christian life; Religious literature, Welsh; Welsh literature -- 18th century; Welsh literature -- Translations into English
Madam, do you wish for an easy
cushion? I am afraid that you will be out of all order by the time you
come to your couch," said he to another.
The strangers were exceedingly averse to going forward, insisting that
they were out of their road; but notwithstanding all they could say, go
they did, and we behind them, to a black flood of great magnitude, and
through it they went, and we across it, my companion holding the
celestial water continually to my nostrils, to strengthen me against the
stench of the river, and against the time when I should see some of the
inhabitants of the place, for hitherto I had not beheld so much as one
devil, though I had heard the voices of many. "Pray, my lord," said I,
"what is the name of this putrid river?" "The river of the Fiend," said
he, "in which all his subjects are bathed, in order that they may be
rendered fit for the country. For this accursed water changes their
countenance, and washes away from them every relic of goodness, every
semblance of hope and of comfort." And, indeed, on gazing upon the host
after it had come through, I could distinguish no difference in deformity
between the devils and the damned. Some of the latter would fain have
sculked at the bottom of the river, and have lain there to all eternity,
in a state of strangulation, lest they should get a worse bed father on;
but here the proverb was verified, that "he must needs run whom the Devil
drives," for with the devils behind, the damned were compelled to go
forward unto the beach, to their eternal damnation; where I at the first
glance saw more pains and torments than the heart of man can imagine or
the tongue relate; a single one of which was sufficient to make the hair
stand erect, the blood to freeze, the flesh to melt, the bones to drop
from their places--yea, the spirit to faint. What is empaling or sawing
men alive, tearing off the flesh piecemeal with iron pincers, or broiling
the flesh with candles, collop fashion, or squeezing heads flat in a
vice, and all the most shocking devices which ever were upon earth,
compared with one of these? Mere pastime! Here were a hundred thousand
shoutings, hoarse sighs, and strong groans; yonder a boisterous wailing
and horrible outcry answering them, and the howling of a dog is sweet,
delicious music, when compared with these sounds. When we had proceeded
a little way onward from the accursed beach, towards the wild place of
Damnation, I perceived, by their own light, innumerable men and women
here and there; and devils without number and without rest, incessantly
employing their strength in tormenting. Yes, there they were, devils and
damned, the devils roaring with their own torments, and making the damned
roar, by means of the torments which they inflicted upon them. I paid
particular observation to the corner which was nearest me. There I
beheld the devils with pitch-forks, tossing the damned up into the air,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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