"Give me my robes and I will transgress against you no more."

"In the Book of Heaven and Hell," said God, "there is no writing of the
last of the Welsh."

Satan spoke up: "My Lord, your pledge concerned those judged on the Day
of Judgment. Day is outing. The windows of the Mansion are lit; hark the
angels tuning their golden strings for the cheer of the Resurrection
Supper. Give me my robes that I may sing your praises."

"Can I not lengthen the day with a wink of my eye?"

"All things you can do, my Lord, but observe your pledge to me. Allow
these people to rest a while longer. Their number together with the
number of their sins is fewer than the hairs on Elisha's head."

God laughed in His heart as He replied to Satan: "Tell the Trumpeter to
take his horn and the laborers their spades and bring to me the Welsh."

The laborers digged, and at the sound of the horn the dead breathed and
heaved. Those whose wit was sharp hurried into neighboring chapels and
stole Bibles and hymn-books, with which in their pockets and under
their arms they joined the host in Heaven's Courtyard, whence they went
into the Waiting Chamber that is without the Judgment Hall.

"Boy bach, a lot of Books of the Word he has," a woman remarked to the
Respected Towy-Watkins. "Say him I have one."

"Happy would I be to do like that," was the reply. "But, female, much
does the Large One regard His speeches. What is the text on the wall?