Climb up, then, and set your feet on the sinner's neck. Let’s go on while the wind is fair.

Charon, I may as well tell you the truth here and now. I shan’t be able to pay you your obol when we come to land, for I have nothing more than the wallet which you see, and this club here. However, I am ready either to bale, if you like, or to row; you will have no fault to find if you only give me a stout, well-balanced oar.

Pull an oar; that will be enough to exact of you.

Shall I strike up a song, too?

Yes, by all means, if you know any of the sailors’ chanties,

I know plenty of them, Charon; but as you see, these people are competing with our music by crying, so that we shall be put out of tune in our song.