NOTE: This is mostly “Tomlinson” by Rudyard Kipling, but Fish cut several verses and couplets as well as changing some of the wording.
Now Tomlinson gave up the ghost at his house in Berkeley Square,
And a Spirit came to his bedside and dragged him by the hair—
Till he heard the roar of the Milky Way die down and drone and cease,
And they came to the Gate within the Wall where Peter holds the keys.
“Stand up, stand up now, Tomlinson, and answer loud and high
The good that ye did for the sake of men before ye came to die”
“O I have a friend on Earth,” he said, “that was my priest and guide,
”And he would answer well for me if he were at my side.”
—"Because ye strove in neighbour-love it shall be written fair,
But now ye wait at Heaven’s Gate and not in Berkeley Square:
Though we called your friend from his bed tonight, he could not speak for you,
For the race is run by one and one, never by two and two.”
The Wind that blows between the Worlds, it cut him like a knife,
So Tomlinson took up the tale and spoke of his good in life.
“O this I read in a book,” he said, “and that was told to me,
And this I thought that another man thought of a Prince in Muscovy.”
“Ye’ve read, ye’ve heard, ye’ve thought, good God! And the tale is yet to run:
By the worth of the body that once ye had, give answer—what ha’ ye done?”
O this I’ve felt, and this I’ve guessed, and this I heard men say,
And this they wrote that another man wrote of a Carl in Norroway.”
“Ye’ve read, ye’ve felt, ye’ve guessed, good God! Ye’ve hampered Heaven’s Gate;
We’ve better fare between the stars than you lay on our plate.
Get out, go down to the Lord of Wrong, your doom is yet to run,
And … the faith ye share with Berkeley Square go with you, Tomlinson!”
So the Spirit grabbed him by the hair, and sun by sun they fell
Till they came to the rings of Evil Stars that rim the mouth of Hell.
The first are red with pride and wrath, the second white with pain,
But the third are black with clinkered sin that cannot burn again.
The Wind that blows between the Worlds, it chilled him to the bone,
And he yearned to the glare of Hellmouth there as he would to his own hearth-stone.
The Devil he sat behind the bars, where the desperate legions drew,
And he caught the hurrying Tomlinson and wouldn’t let him through.
“D’you know the price of good pit-coal that I must pay?” said he,
That ye rank yoursel’ so fit for Hell and to ask no leave of me?
Sit down, sit down upon the slag, and answer loud and high
The harm that ye did to the Sons of Men before you came to die.”
“O I had a love on earth,” he said, “that kissed me to my fall;
And if ye would call my love to me I know she would answer all.”
—"All that ye did in love forbid it shall be written fair,
But now ye wait at Hell-Mouth Gate and not in Berkeley Square:
Though we whistled your love from her bed to-night, I vow she would not run,
For the sin that ye do by two and two ye must pay for one by one!”
“Well, once I laughed at the power of Love, twice at the grip of the Grave,
And three times patted my God on the head that men might call me brave.”
The Devil he blew on a brandered soul and laid it aside to cool:—
“Do ye think I’d waste my good pit-coal on the hide of a brain-sick fool?
I see no worth in the hobnail mirth or the jolthead jest ye did
That I should waken my gentlemen that are sleeping three to a grid.”
“Oh, this I heard,” said Tomlinson, “and this was noised abroad,
And this I took from a Belgian book on the word of a dead French lord.”
—"Ye’ve heard, ye’ve read, ye’ve got, good lack! and the tale begins afresh—
“Have ye sinned one sin for the pride o’ the eye or the sinful lust of the flesh?”
Then Tomlinson he gripped the bars and he yammered, “Let me in—
I remembered I borrowed my neighbour’s wife to sin the deadly sin.”
The Devil he grinned behind the bars, and he banked the fires high:“
Did ye read of that sin in a book?” he said; and Tomlinson said, “Ay!”
The Devil he blew upon his nails, and the little demons ran,
And he said: “Go husk this whimpering thief that comes in the guise of a man: "Go winnow him out from star and star, and sieve his proper worth:
There’s sore decline in Adam’s line if this is the spawn of Earth.”
When the demons came with the tattered Thing, as children after play,
They said: “The soul he got from God he’s bartered clean away.
We’ve threshed out a mint of print and book, and a chattering wind for a mind,
And many a soul from which he stole, but his own we cannot find.
We’ve handled him, we’ve dandled him, we’ve seared him to the bone,
And, Sire, if tooth and nail show truth he has no soul of his own.”
The Devil he looked at the mangled Thing that prayed to feel the flame,
And he thought of Holy Charity, but he thought of his own good name:—
“Now ye would haste my coal to waste, and sit ye down to fry.
Did ye think of that sin for yourself?” he asked; and Tomlinson said, “Ay!”
The Devil he blew an outward sigh, for his heart was free from care:—
“Ye’ve scarce the soul of a louse,” he said, “but the roots of sin are there,
"Now, for that sin should ye come in if I were the lord alone,
But it’s sinful pride has rule inside, mightier than my own.
Ye are neither spirit nor spirk,” he said; “ye’re neither book nor brute—
So get ye back to the flesh again for the sake of Man’s repute.
I’m o'er-lord to Adam’s breed that I should mock your pain,
But see that ye win to a better sin before ye come back again.
"Get out! The hearse is at your door, and the grim black stallions wait—
They carry your clay to place to-day. Move, or you’ll come come too late!
Go back to Earth with lip unsealed—go back with an open eye,
And carry my word to the Spawn of Earth before they come to die:
That the sin they do by two and two they must pay for one by one,
And … the God you took from a printed book be with you,Tomlinson!"
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