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Wynne, Ellis, 1671-1734

"The Visions of the Sleeping Bard"

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.


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