Part 7

“When one reigns, or when one loves, the pain is not without its pleasures; solicitude renders them more vivid. Happy prince! Happy lover! it is not in vain you suffer; they will resist you but slightly, when they themselves suffer from protracted resistance; yes, when one reigns, or when one loves, the pain is not without its pleasures.”

I cast my billet from the window, and it was soon taken up. The adventure seemed to me very pleasant: behold what followed; I deposited in the bed of the fair, the diamond that was designed for her, not being able to keep it longer with honour, and without exposing myself to the anger of the young lady, who would soon know by what window it entered. Upon retiring the next night, she found it; she informed her lover of the discovery, and he explained the whole affair. She thanked me graciously for my gallantry; I gave her the billet I had received, and she returned my handkerchief. The mistake arose from my having lain, that night, in the chamber ordinarily occupied by this young lady, her bed having been removed to that of her father, and on that account was unable, as usual, to answer her gallant. She made me the confidant of her attachment, and besought my good offices with her father, which I so zealously used, that in less than a month, I assisted at the marriage of these lovers.

Those who interpret dreams, say, that the one I had concerning hell, hardly presaged this adventure. I pray those who read my reveries, or nocturnal visions, to consider that they contain more truth, than one would be apt, at first, to imagine: by day they ought to occupy themselves with thoughts upon hell, as intently as they would in the most important affair; or as they would seek the means of deliverance, if shut up in prison, for a crime against the state. One is damned for a less offence than the robbery of the treasury, revolt, or parricide. Yes, for a much slighter fault, one shall be eternally tormented in hell.—Reflect often upon this, dear readers, lest you have it to say, through the interminable ages of futurity, “_I could not have thought it_.”

SEVENTH NIGHT. THE REFORMATION OF HELL.

AS I promenaded one day in my garden, thinking of demons, which are always at the back of every one, the foolish idea struck me, that it would not be wholly useless to reform my life. I felt a curiosity to see my evil demon; but, thought I to myself, if I should see him I believe I should die with fear. No, said I again, I should not be terrified, if he would but show himself in a human shape. After having repressed this improper curiosity, and resumed my composure, I heard a man speaking to me; and turning my eyes to that side from whence the voice proceeded, I perceived, through a grated door, which separated the garden from the park, on the other side, a gentleman of a good mien, who requested me to open the gate, as he wished to have some conversation with me. As he resembled a man with whom I had formerly some misunderstanding, I refused; but he passed over it before I had the power to prevent him. Immediately drawing my sword, I set upon him; and he doing the same, parried my thrusts and stood upon the defensive only. As I perceived that his figure at one moment contracted, and anon dilated to a huge magnitude, I began to suspect that he was either a magician or a demon; and stepping rearward some paces, demanded who he was. He answered that he was my demon, and wished to render me a service.

“I have no need of such service,” said I to him; “for demons are both deceptive and malicious.”

“No, no,” replied he; “fear nothing; only come with me.”

Forthwith he transported me into the air, and I soon lost sight of my house and garden. In a short time we drew near the moon; and while passing, I gazed attentively upon those valleys, mountains, and lakes, which are but imperfectly perceived from the earth by the aid of telescopes. The demon transported me to Sicily and set me down upon the summit of a mountain covered with cinders yet hot, which he told me was Etna. There was, from this place, a very fine prospect; one sees all the beauties of the isle, and of the surrounding seas: in the distance, the highlands of Africa are distinguished, like fleecy clouds, upon the verge of the horizon; a multitude of vessels were sailing in view, which seemed like white ants, or flies, sporting upon the surface of the ocean. After we had rested there about one hour, the demon told me to follow him. We descended into an aperture from whence belched forth smoke and flame that illumined the whole mountain.

“It is here,” said the demon, “that Pliny fell, when he had the temerity to approach too near.”

The whole way, as we proceeded, was composed of rocks and fat earth, like bitumen, and from time to time, might be seen veins of sulphur. The rocks were full of little crevices, from whence issued vapours and sulphurous exhalations, and sometimes slight gusts of wind. When we had travelled downwards about the space of an hour, we came to a vast cavern, into which we entered; at its extremity was an immense palace, hewn in the rock, and elevated upon massive pillars.

“This,” said the demon, “is the palace of Lucifer. Let us enter into the great hall, where we shall see him give a general audience to the damned: listen attentively to what shall be said; examine the events that take place, and let what you shall see serve for your instruction.”

The following is a correct account of what I saw in these subterraneous abodes.—For a long time, Lucifer, the ruler of hell had not given audience to his subjects: the disorder that ordinarily obtain in states from the negligence of princes, are incidental as well among demons as men. The evil spirits remained sometimes for ages in the world, without rendering any account of the souls they had gained, and often suffered themselves to be driven from the tenements of which they were masters; the address of some monk or priest snatching from them their conquest. Men performed in hell the office of demons; and as they frequently left their chains to seek their enemies, battles were as common, as formerly between the Romans and Gauls. Lucifer, either from a fear for his crown, or weariness at seeing so many combats, resolved one day to hear, in general convention, the complaints of the damned; to introduce a reform among the demons; to re-establish the submission and obedience due to his sceptre, and to extend the boundaries of his empire by new conquests: this was very easy of execution, provided he would give access and free parlance to his subjects, and compel his demons to render an exact account of their administrations. With this design he secretly consulted with Belzebub, the prince of devils, Belial, the governor-general of Pagan nations, and Ashtaroth, the princess who commands all women. At the termination of this council, circular letters were published, which ordained that all those who had complaints to prefer, and all the demons scattered over the world, should assemble upon an appointed day in the great hall of the palace, when and where they should be heard.

The day fixed being arrived, the hall was presently filled, and measures taken, that as soon as one party was heard, another should enter. Lucifer was seated upon his golden throne, having upon each side those princes I have before mentioned. After having inveighed against the disorders prevalent in hell, and stated his determination to rectify them, he signified his permission to the standers by to speak. At this intimation there arose an old man of a haughty appearance, and having a crown of laurel upon his head; he read the Roman laws touching parricides, and amplified upon the ingratitude of natural and adopted children towards their parents.

“The parties,” said Belzebub to Lucifer, “must be ordered, before commencing their speeches, to announce their names, because many of them have been dead a great length of time.”

Such a decree was accordingly made; and he who had now spoken about half an hour, said that he was Julius Cæsar, the first emperor of the Romans. “Under the pretext of the liberty of our common country,” continued he, “Brutus and Cassius, to gratify their ambition, assassinated me in the midst of the senate, their enmity was not directed against the empire and monarchy, which were, on the contrary, the object of their desires; but they hated the emperor, who had magnified the Roman power, and extended its dominion both north and east. Was the government better administered in the hands of those senators, who, by their feuds and personal dislikes, perilled the salvation of the republic, by resigning it into the hands of a perpetual dictation, whom they were obliged shortly afterwards to elect? Rome having once tasted the benefits of monarchy, preferred rather to obey a Nero, a Tiberius, a Caligula, or a Heliogabulus, than to re-establish this pretended public liberty, for which Brutus and Cassius, those two traitors, took up arms against the father of their country.”

He continued his discourse in this strain, and concluded by moving, that they should be treated in hell as assassins, public disturbers, and traitors.

Brutus then arose, and with a trembling voice, said: “Senators, you have heard Cæsar; have you not been biassed by his eloquence? But will you forget the services I have rendered? Remember the advice you privately gave me, to encourage the glorious design I had conceived in favour of your liberty? Answer then to Cæsar, that it was by your advice I gave the fatal stab; that if the laws had not been abrogated and violated by the formidable power of tyranny, you would, yourselves, have put him to death under the forms of justice; and that your silence, after the execution of my project, was an evidence of your approbation.”

Cassius, assuming the discourse, said he would not undertake to plead his own cause if Cicero was present.

“I will not,” said Cæsar, “listen to this timid sycophant; this cowardly soul; this selfish orator: when he feared my power, he said, in full senate, that he would be my buckler against enemies, and, at the same time, conspired against my life, and defends the act of Brutus and Cassius. His cupidity was so eager, that for money, he might be bought on the same day to speak upon both sides of a case; and so sober-tongued, that there was not a soldier in the army, who would have bestowed upon his greatest foe one tittle of the scurrility he heaped upon Anthony. You recollect, Signors, his phillipics: he had not the courage to support a change of fortune; and the common cause was abandoned by this patriotic man before he was slain by Anthony.”

“May all such wretches be ever punished in the same manner! and with what can they reproach me? Did I put any senator to death? Did I pillage the commonwealth? Did I not return, by my will, what I had amassed and conserved for her defence? Will they accuse me of tyranny and usurpation? I, who delivered the Romans from the ambition of a Pompey? Will they charge me with cruelty? I, who could not behold without weeping the head of my most inveterate enemy? Yes, I can truly say, that it was grief at the sad fate of Pompey, that invited me to declare war against Egypt. I was desirous of avenging the death of this great man. He would have made himself master of Rome if I had not prevented him; and because I stood forth as the defender of the public liberty, was assassinated as a usurper. What wickedness! What perfidy! What cruelty! The senate recognized every thing I had done, when, after my death, they erected statues, and built me temples. Infernal judge, will you bear with these impious men, who killed him whom the empire delighted to honour?”

Cicero would have spoken, fearing the eloquence of Cæsar, or his vehemency, would impose upon the judges; but Cæsar constantly interrupting him, Lucifer, tired with their clamours and the length of the cause, ordered that the emperor, as a punishment for not having profited by the advice he received on his way to the senate, upon the day of his death, should remain in his present place.

“It was I,” said Cicero, “who caused this information to be sent him.”

“Base liar! perfidious man!” cried Cæsar, “it was you who gave me this information! why did you not bring it yourself?”

“It was the will of Fate, that Brutus, Cassius, and other senators, involved in this conspiracy, should be marks for infamy, as traitors to their country, and as having afforded a direful example of politicians without courage.”

After him arose Alexander the Great, very much vexed that Cæsar had spoken before him, and pretending that the cause of this Roman emperor should not be considered before that of the emperor of the world; but he abandoned his pretensions, when a crier had made proclamation, that in hell, all conditions were equal, and that the damned had among them, no other distinctions than those of crime.

“Infamous prince,” said Clytus, who stood behind Alexander, “dare you speak, after having murdered the best of your friends? Is not the brightness of thy conquests tarnished by the shame of thy cruelty? What punishment dost thou merit, for having despoiled princes so distant from Macedon, who, so far from having wronged or injured you, did not even know you?”

“Silence,” said Alexander.

“What! I be silent! if Lucifer, the chief of this empire, imposes silence upon me, I will obey: but shall I yet receive orders from you, cruel brigand, notorious robber, sacrilegious rascal, debauchee, fool, drunkard, incendiary?”

“No, no: speak, son of Olympias,” said Lucifer to Alexander.

He began thus: “Alexander, son of Jupiter Amnion, lord of the world, most high and mighty emperor, conqueror of the habitable globe—”

Clytus laughed at the boasts: “what a lord! what an emperor! what a god! Behold the titles which I dispute. In the first place, his mother was a virtuous woman. She but mocked her son, who, through pride, accused her with having committed adultery with Jupiter Amnion. Secondly, he was not lord of the world; since he did not conquer the tenth part of it: and thirdly, it is false that he is a great emperor; for an emperor is only ennobled by heroic virtues and qualities, which he did not possess. And how is it possible that he should be the conqueror of the habitable globe, having never been neither to Africa, nor very far in Europe, nor to China? Thus he is only Alexander, as I am Clytus.”

Here Lucifer passed an order that this prince should only assume the titles that veritably pertained to him, and permitted Clytus to continue.

“I was,” said Clytus, “the prime favourite of this Alexander, who, wishing to conquer every body, had no enemy nearer and more powerful than himself. Contemplate our portraits: I was his favourite, and I have always seen him as ambitious of distinction in wickedness as he was for honourable action: but as a foundation to my complaints against him, I ought to state, that this prince, elevated by his flatterers to a place among the gods, was accustomed to speak without respect of Philip his father. He showed himself more munificent towards gladiators, musicians, and drunkards, than towards his bravest captains. In conformity to this disposition, he gave the kingdom of Sidon to Abdolonymus, a well-digger; he committed numberless extravagances at the instigation of his mistresses; to please a courtesan named Roxana, he burnt the palace of the Persian kings; his conduct towards Parmenio, Philotas, and Calisthenes, as well as Aminthus, his relation, is sufficient proof of his barbarity. And did he not exhibit more than cruelty towards me? I was the most faithful of his confidants; he who flattered him the least; who gave him the best of counsel; to whom he owed his reputation and honour. Alas! because I had the presumption to speak my true sentiments at a feast, he arose from the table and inflicted upon me a mortal wound. I now demand expiation. King of hell, revenge Clytus, punish Alexander.”

This prince then replied as follows:—“Favourites bear the same relation to sovereigns as mice to cats.”

At this exordium Clytus began to laugh, and said: “Listen to a comparison worthy of the disciple of Aristotle.”

“The mouse,” continued Alexander, “seems at first to divert itself with the cat; but finally this animal, being more powerful, devours the mouse, who cannot accuse her with cruelty for wishing to take her turn in the sport. Such, about me, was the condition of Clytus: but to demonstrate the mistake of this ungrateful favourite, I aver, that it is the policy of princes to keep favourites, who are towards them neither forward nor haughty; and not to accord them too much power. The liberties they take with us cause us to fall into contempt; their hauteur makes us appear timid, and their power fills us with just suspicions. Clytus having thus taken advantage of me, I was frequently ashamed of his familiarities. Such was his pride, that if I dared to contradict him in the least thing, he reared up like an unruly horse: my bounty had rendered him so powerful, that he was in fact Alexander, and I was but Clytus. In particular, he abused my mistresses, and the officers of my house; in counsel he was always right and I wrong; in every battle, it was he that was victorious, and I who had been slack and timid. If I put some to death, it was but consonant with justice, to punish the seditious or conspiring; if I burnt the palace of the kings of Persia, it was for the purpose of destroying a fortress that had been used against me; if the pleasures that were indulged in after my conquests were sometimes too free, it arose from a desire to gratify my generals; in fine, the death of Clytus crushed those treasonous designs of which I had notice. He only waited for an opportunity to set one part of my army against the other, and to despatch me. I sang at a feast the songs my soldiers had composed upon their officers and myself; I rallied Clytus for having, in a certain action, taken to flight: this madman let loose his rage upon me; he loaded me with contumely; the wine he had drank deprived him of reason: I thought it was time to punish his audacity, and to prevent the excesses to which it might carry him. Thus perished an usurping, traitorous, insolent and unworthy favourite. Lucifer, I have spoken the truth.”

After having heard the parties, the king said to his demons, “Take notice how proper it is that a subject should be faithful and submissive to his prince; and that a favourite should not go beyond the respect he owes to his sovereign. _We do order_ that as long as Alexander shall be tormented by his ambition, Clytus shall experience all the remorse that springs from rashness and ingratitude.”

At the same moment was heard the voice of Seneca, speaking to Nero: “Cruel prince, how have you profited by the lessons of clemency, goodness, and humanity I have given you? Did you not murder me to repossess yourself of the wealth I had received from you? Such was my recompense for having raised you to empire. Was it not I who saved you from the conspiracy formed by Piso, after you had set fire to all quarters of Rome? Was it not I who delivered you from the snares which had been spread for you by the friends of your mother Agrippina, whom you afterwards put to death? I was more careful of your reputation than yourself, when I advised you not to exhibit yourself as a comedian upon the theatre; when you entered the lists to dispute the prize of poetry with Lucan, whom you afterwards assassinated.”

“Old fool,” said Nero, in a slender voice, “thou wert become unworthy of my favours by thy excessive ambition, and by the dishonour you brought upon my palace. Great Lucifer, you see a man who, being my preceptor, did not profit by his own theory. He maintained a shameful commerce with my mother; and with a view to favour it, poisoned the Emperor Claudius, my father, who did not commit suicide, as was the prevalent opinion at Rome. The partiality of my mother filled him with such audacity, that he projected mounting the throne, and having me poisoned. I was informed of the intrigue, which I suspected before having received positive advice. I observed that his immense wealth had obtained him very many friends among the senators, gentlemen, and officers of the army; and it is worth while, also, to know, that this man who preached so much about frugality, and the love of mediocrity, was far from practising these virtues, which are easily reported of a man possessing twelve millions of revenue. After having punished the tyranny and usurpation of my mother, I was bound to punish the crimes of Seneca; but I was yet lenient enough to leave the manner of his death to his own choice.”

“The subjects and favourites of princes,” said Lucifer, “are always culpable, when they are ungrateful, or entertain any other desire than the prosperity of their masters: they ought to leave to them the recompense of their services, without attempting to reward themselves. _We will_, then, that the philosopher, Seneca, born in Spain, should be punished as if he had compassed his designs upon Nero: and that Nero be treated as an unjust and barbarous prince.”

“This ordinance,” said Sejanus, “does not concern me: Tiberius caused me to be assassinated without reason, actuated by one of those suspicions to which he was usually addicted. He was troubled more by a fear of losing his life, than the empire. His courtezans had too much influence over him. As to myself, I have never punished any but the enemies of Tiberius: to be sure, they were also mine. But were not, in truth, the opposers of a minister who governed as well as I did, foes to their prince and country?”

Tiberius would have answered; but Lucifer, interrupting him, ordered that all the favourites of princes should come in. There appeared a vast number, among them Plautius, the favourite of Severus, was particularly remarkable: also Faustus, the favourite of Phyrrhus, king of Epirus; Pyreneus and Cleandrus, favourites of the emperor Commodus; Cincinnatus, favourite of Britulus; Rufus, favourite of Domitian; Ampronisius, favourite of Adrian; Belisarius, favourite of Justinian.