DEATH AND THE LAWYER.

311

DEATH. /

Why look you, Sir, with such surprise ?

Why shakes your frame—why roll your eyes ?—

Your client! see—without disguise !

[Death throws off his clothing.

LAWYER.

Dread Spectre! are you what you seem—

Or am I in a frightful dream ?—

And oh!—the brief \ —what dreadful pain

Now racks my poor distracted brain !

What horrid vision of the night

Is this which stands before my sight,

And fills me with such dire affright ?

Hence—hence !—I pray ye—hence!

DEATH.

Not I!Before I go, the cause we'll try :—My case, at full, I'll fairly state;You, as your brethren's advocate,Must meet the charges I shall bring.—Thus, then, as counsel for the King,