Litigious Wrangler, alias Cumber-of-Courts.” “Witness, witness, all of you, what names the knave has given me,” cried the Wrangler. “Ha, ha, ’tis not according to the font, but according to the fault, that everybody is named in this land,” said Death, “and with your permission, Mr. Wrangler, these names must stick to you for evermore.” “Indeed,” quoth the Wrangler, “by the devil, I’ll make it hot for you; although you may put me to death, you have no right to nickname me. I shall enter a plaint for this and for false imprisonment, against you and your kinsman Lucifer, in the Court of Justice.” By this I could see the armies of Death in array and armed, looking to the king for the word of command. Then the king, standing erect on his throne, spoke as follows: “My terrible and invincible hosts, spare neither care nor haste to despatch these prisoners out of my territories, lest they corrupt my country; throw them in bonds headlong over the hopeless precipice. But as to the eighth, this cumbrous fellow who menaces me, let him free on the brink beneath the Court of Justice, so that he may make good his charge against me, if he can.” No sooner had he sat down than the whole deadly armies surrounded and bound the prisoners, and led them towards their appointed dwelling. And when I, having gone out, half-turned to look at them. “Come hither,” cried Sleep, and flew with me to the top of the loftiest tower on the court; from whence I saw the prisoners going forth to their everlasting doom. Before long a sudden whirlwind arose, and drove away the pitch-dark mist usually hovering over the Land of Oblivion, and in the wan light, I could see myriads of livid candles, and by their gleam, I obtained a far-off view of the mouth of the bottomless abyss. But if that was a horrible sight, overhead was one still more horrible—Justice, on her throne, guarding the portal of hell, and holding a special tribunal above the entrance thereto, to pronounce the doom of the damned as they arrive. I beheld the seven hurled headlong over the terrible verge, and the Wrangler, too, rushing to throw himself over, lest he should once look on the Court of Justice, for, alas, the sight thereof was intolerable to guilty eyes. I was only gazing from a distance, yet I beheld more dreadful horrors than I can now relate, nor then could endure; for my spirit so strove and panted through exceeding fear, and struggled so violently, that all the bonds of Sleep were burst; my soul returned to its wonted functions, and I rejoiced greatly to perceive myself still among the living, and resolved to lead a better life, for I would rather suffer affliction an hundred years in the paths of holiness than, perforce, take another glance at the horrors of that night. 1 Must I leave home and fatherland, And every charm and pleasure? Leave honored name and high degree Enjoyed in life’s brief measure?