The Visions of Dom Francisco de Quevedo VillegasQuevedo, Francisco de
General
The Visions of Dom Francisco de Quevedo Villegas
Quevedo, Francisco de
Satire; Spanish literature -- Translations into English
Judas was beset with a great many money-mongers and purse-bearers, that
were telling him stories of the pranks they had played, and the tricks
they had put upon their masters, after his example. Coming up to them, I
perceived that their punishment was like that of Titius, who had a
vulture continually gnawing upon his liver; for there were a number of
ravenous birds perpetually preying upon them, and tearing off their
flesh; which grew again as fast as they devoured it; a devil in the
meantime crying out, and the damned filling the whole place with clamour
and horror; Judas, with his purse, and his pot by his side, bearing a
large part in the outcry and torment. I had a huge mind (methought) to
have a word or two with Judas, and so I went to him with this greeting:
“Thou perfidious, impudent, impious traitor,” said I, “to sell thy Lord
and Master at so base a price, like an avaricious rascal.” “If men,”
said he, “were not ungrateful, they would rather pity, or commend me, for
an action so much to their advantage, and done in order to their
redemption. The misery is mine, that am to have no part myself in the
benefit I have procured to others. Some heretics there are (I must
confess to my comfort) that adore me for’t. But do you take me for the
only Judas? No, no. There have been many since the death of my Master,
and there are at this day, more wicked and ungrateful, ten thousand times
than myself; that buy the Lord of Life, as well as sell Him, scourging
and crucifying Him daily with more spite and ignominy than the Jews. The
truth is, I had an itch to be fingering of money, and bartering, from my
very entrance into the apostleship. I began, you know, with the pot of
ointment, which I would fain have sold, under colour of a relief to the
poor. And I went on, to the selling of my Master, wherein I did the
world a greater good than I intended, to my own irreparable ruin. My
repentance now signifies nothing. To conclude, I am the only steward
that’s condemned for selling; all the rest are damned for buying: and I
must entreat you, to have a better opinion of me; for if you’ll look but
a little lower here, you’ll find people a thousand times worse than
myself.” “Withdraw then,” said I, “for I have had talk enough with
Judas.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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