On hearing this, the treasurers turned away; but a vast roll of accusations against them, held in another devil’s hand, met their eyes, and one of them exclaimed, “For mercy’s sake, away with those informations! We will one and all submit to any penalty; to remain in purgatory a thousand years, if you will only remove them from our sight.” “Is it so?” quoth the cunning devil that had drawn out the charges—“you are hard put to it to think of compounding on terms like these.” The treasurers had no more to say; but, finding they must make the best of a bad case, they very quietly followed the dancing-master.
Close upon the last came an unfortunate pastryman, and on being asked if he wished to be tried, he replied that he did, and with the help of the Lord would stand the venture. The counsel against him then prest the charge; namely, that he had roasted cats for hares, and filled his pies with bones in place of meat, and sold nothing but horse-flesh, dogs, and foxes, in lieu of good beef and mutton. It turned out, in fact, that Noah had never had so many animals in his ark as this ingenious fellow had put in his pies (for we hear of no rats and mice in the former); so that, in utter despair, he threw up his cause, and went to be baked in his turn with other sinners like himself.
“Next came and next did go” a company of barefoot philosophers with their syllogisms, and it was amusing enough to hear them chop logic, and try all manner of questions in mood and figure, at the expense of their own souls. Yet the most entertaining of them all were the poets, who refused to be tried at any lesser tribunal than that of Jupiter himself. Virgil, with his Sicelides Musæ, made an eloquent defence of himself, declaring that he had prophecied the Nativity. But up jumped a devil with a long story about Mæcenas and Octavius, declaring that he was no better than an idolater of the old school. Orpheus then put in a word, asserting that, as he was the elder, he ought to be allowed to speak for all, commanding the poet to repeat his experiment of going into hell, and trying to get out again, with as many of the company as he could take along with him.
They were no sooner gone, than a churlish old miser knocked at the gate, but was informed that it was guarded by the Ten Commandments, to which he had always been an utter stranger. Yet he contended that if he had not kept, he had never broken, any of them, and proceeded to justify his conduct from point to point. His quirks, however, were not admitted—his works were made the rule of decision—and he was marched off to receive a due reward.
He was succeeded by a gang of housebreakers and others of the same stamp, some of whom were so fortunate as to be saved just in the nick of time. The usurers and attorneys, seeing this, thought they too had a good chance, and put so good a face on the matter that Judas and Mahomet began to look about them, and advanced rather confidently to meet their trial, a movement which made the devils themselves fall to laughing.
It was now the accusing demons of the usurers and attorneys proceeded with their accusations, which they took not from the bills of indictment made out, but from the acts of their lives, insisting upon the plain matter of fact, so as to leave them without the possibility of an excuse. Addressing the Judge—“The great crime of which these men were guilty was their being attorneys at all;”—to which it was ingeniously answered by the men of law—“No, not so; we only acted as the secretaries of other men.” They nearly all denied their own calling; and the result was that, after much cross-questioning and pleading, two or three only were acquitted, while to the rest their accusers cried out, “You here! you are wanted elsewhere;” and they then proceeded to swear against some other people, some bribing the witnesses, making them say things which they had never heard, and see things they had never seen, in order to leave innocence no chance of escape. The lie was concocted in all its labyrinths; and I saw Judas, Mahomet, and Luther draw back, while the former prest his money-bag closer to him. Luther observed that he did just the same thing in his writings (i.e., draw back); but the doctor interrupted him, declaring that, compelled by those who had betrayed him, he now appeared with the apothecary and the barber to defend himself. On this a demon with the accusations in his hand turned sharp round on him, asking, “Who it was had sent the greater part of the dead then present, and with the aid of his worthy aide-de-camps, had, in fact, occasioned the whole proceedings of that day.” But the apothecary’s advocate put in a plea for him, asserting that he had dosed the poor people for nothing. “No matter,” retorted a devil, “I have him down on my list; two of his pill-boxes despatched more than ten thousand pikes could do in a battle, such was the virulence of his poisonous drugs, with which indeed he entered into a partnership with the plague, and destroyed two entire villages.” The physician defended himself from any participation in these exploits, and at last the apothecary was obliged to succumb, the physician and the barber each taking the deaths that respectively belonged to them.
A lawyer was next condemned for taking bribes from both sides, and betraying both; and lurking behind him was discovered a fellow who seemed very desirous of concealing himself, and who, on being asked his name, replied that he was a player. “And a very comic player indeed,” rejoined a devil, “who had done better not to appear on that stage to-day.” The poor wretch promised to retire, and was as good as his word. A tribe of vintners next took their station, accused of having assassinated numbers of thirsty souls by substituting bad water for good wine. They tried to defend themselves on the plea of compensation, having supplied a hospital gratis with wine for the sacred ceremonies; but this was overruled, as was that preferred by the tailors, of having clothed some charity boys on the same terms, and they were all sent to the same place.
Three or four rich merchants next appeared, who had got wealth by defrauding their correspondents and creditors, but the accusing demon now informed them they would find it more difficult to make a composition; and turning towards Jupiter, he said, “Other men, my Lord Judge, have to give account of their own affairs, but these have had to do with everybody’s.” Sentence was forthwith pronounced, but I could not well catch it, so speedily they all disappeared. A cavalier now came forward with so good a face, and so upright, as to challenge even justice itself. He made a very lowly obeisance on entering, but his collar was of such a size as to defy you to say whether he had got any head in it at all. A messenger inquired, on the part of Jupiter, if he was a man, to which he courteously replied in the affirmative, adding that his name was Don Fulano, on the faith of a cavalier. At this one of the devils laughed, and he was then asked what it was he wanted? To which he replied that he wanted to be saved. He was delivered over to the demons, whom he entreated to use him gently, lest they should chance to disorder his mustachios and ruff. Behind him came a man uttering great lamentations, which he himself interrupted by saying, “Though I cry, I am none so badly off, for I have shaken the dust off the saints themselves before now.” Every one looked round, thinking to see a hero, or a Diocletian, from his brushing the ears of the saints; but he turned out to be a poor wretch whose highest office was to sweep the pictures, statues, and other ornaments of the church. His cause seemed safe, when all at once he was accused by one of the devils of drinking the oil out of the lamps, but which he again laid to the charge of an owl; that he had moreover clothed himself out of the church suits, that he drank the wine, ate the bread, and even laid a duty on the fees. He made but a lame defence, and was ordered to take the left hand road in his descent.
“A BEVY OF FINE LADIES, TRICKED OUT IN CAP AND FEATHER.”