The next that came to the bar was a certain king, who had lived very near to Rome. “Hold up your hand, prisoner,” said one of the officers. “I hope,” said he, “that you have some better manners and favour to show to a king.” “Sirrah,” said Death, “why did you not keep on the other side of the gulf where all are kings? On this side there is none but myself, and another down below, and you will soon see, that neither he nor I will rate you according to the degree of your majesty, but according to the degree of your wickedness, in order to adapt your punishment to your crimes, therefore answer to the interrogation.” “Sir,” he replied, “I would have you know, that you have no authority to detain me, nor to interrogate me, as I have a pardon for all my sins under the Pope’s own hand. On account of my faithful services, he has given me a warrant to go straight to Paradise, without tarrying one moment in Purgatory.” At these words the king and all the haggard train gave a ghastly grin, to escape from laughing outright; but the other full of wrath at their ridicule, commanded them aloud to show him the way. “Peace, thou lost fool!” cried Death, “Purgatory lies behind you, on the other side of the wall, for you ought to purify yourself during your life; and on the right hand, on the other side of that gulf is Paradise. But there is no road by which
it is possible for you to escape, either through the gulf to Paradise, or through the boundary wall back to the world; and if you were to give your kingdom, (supposing you could give it,) you would not obtain permission from the keepers of those doors, to take one peep through the key hole. It is called the irrepassable wall, for when once you have come through you may abandon all hope of returning. But since you stand so high on the books of the Pope, you shall go and prepare his bed, beside that of the Pope who was before him, and there you shall kiss his toe for ever, and he the toe of Lucifer.”
Immediately thereupon, four little deaths raised the poor king up, who was by this time shivering like the leaf of an aspen, and snatched him out of sight like lightning. Next after him came a young fellow and woman. He had been a jolly companion and she a lady of pleasure, or one free of her person; but they were called here by their naked names, drunkard and harlot. “I hope,” said the drunkard, “I shall find some favour with you; I have sent to you many a bloated booty in a torrent of good ale; and when I failed to kill others, I came myself, willingly, to feed you.” “With the permission of the court,” said the harlot, “you have not sent half as much as I, and my offerings were burning sacrifices, rich roast meat ready for the board.” “Hey, hey!” said Death, “all this was done for your own accursed passions’ sake and not to feed me. Bind the two face to face, as they are old acquaintances, and cast them into the land of Darkness, and let each be a torment to the other, until the day of judgment.” They were then snatched away, with their heads downwards.
Next to these there came seven recorders. Having been commanded to raise their hands to the bar, they would by no
means obey, as the rails were greasy. One began to wrangle boisterously; “we ought to obtain a fair citation to prepare our answer;” said he, “instead of being rushed upon unawares.”
“But are we bound to give you that same specific citation,” answered Death, “since you obtain in every place, and at every period of your life, warning of my coming. How many sermons have you not heard upon the mortality of man? How many books have you not seen? How many graves, how many sculls, how many diseases, how many messages and signs have you not had? What is your Sleep, but my own brother? What are sculls, but my visage? What does your daily food consist of but dead creatures? Seek not to cast your neglect upon me. Speak not of summons, when you have obtained it a hundred times.” “Pray,” said one red recorder, “what have you to advance against us?” “What?” said Death. “Drinking the sweat and blood of the poor, and levying double your wages.” “Here is an honest man,” replied the recorder, pointing to a pettifogger behind him, “who knows that we have never done any thing but what was fair; and it is not fair of you to detain us here, without a specific crime to prove against us.” “Hey, hey!” said Death, “you shall prove against yourselves. Place these people,” said he, “on the verge of the precipice before the tribunal of Justice, they shall obtain equity there though they never practiced it.”
There were still seven other prisoners remaining, and these kept up a prodigious bustle and noise. Some were flattering, others quarrelling, some blustering, some counselling, &c. Scarcely had they been called to the bar, when lo! the entire palace became seven times more horribly dark than before, and there was a shivering and a great agitation about
the throne, and Death became paler than ever. Upon enquiring what was the matter, one of the messengers of Lucifer stepped forward with a letter for Death, concerning these seven prisoners, and Fate presently caused the letter to be read publicly, and these were the words, as far as I can remember.
“Lucifer, King of the kings of the world, prince of Hell, and ruler of the Deep, to our natural son, the most mighty and terrible king Death, greeting, pre-eminence, and eternal spoil.
“For as much as we have been informed by some of our nimble messengers, who are constantly abroad to obtain information, that seven prisoners, of the seven most villainous and dangerous species in the world, have arrived lately at your royal palace, and that it is your intention to hurl them over the cliff into my kingdom. I hereby counsel you to try every possible means, to let them loose back again upon the world; they will do you there more service in sending you food, and sending me better company, for I would rather want than have them; we have had but too much plague with their companions for a long time, and my dominion is still disturbed by them. Therefore turn them back, or keep them with you. For, by the infernal crown, if you send them here, I will undermine the foundations of your kingdom, until it falls down into my own immense dominion.
“From the burning hall of assembly, at our royal palace in the pit of Hell, in the year of our reign, 5425.”
King Death, hereupon, stood for some time with his visage green and pale, in great perplexity of mind. But