The Ferry (16-20)

Klotho

I have seen you laughing for some time, Mikyllos. What was it chiefly that stirred your mirth?

Mikyllos

I will tell you, goddess of my greatest reverence. I lived near a despot on earth, so that I saw pretty plainly all that went on in his house, and he seemed to me then to be somehow equal with the gods. For I counted him blessed when I saw the bloom of his purple, the crowd of his followers, the gold, the gemmed goblets, the silver-footed couches. And, moreover, the steam and savor of his dinner preparations used to drive me wild, so that he seemed to me more than mortal, thrice blessed, and almost handsomer than other people, and taller by two feet! lifted up as he was by fortune, dignified in his gait, with head thrown back, inspiring awe in those he met. But when he came to die, and had laid aside his luxury like a garment, I saw all his absurdity; but still more I laughed at myself for having admired such a wretch, judging of his happiness from the steam of his kitchen, and calling him blessed on the strength of the blood of the shell-fish in the Laconic Sea.

Mikyllos

And he was not the only one. When I saw the money-lender Griphon groaning with remorse because he had not had the good of his money, but was dying without a taste of it, leaving his property to the spendthrift Rodochares-for he was next of kin

and chief legatee by law-I could not help laughing; most of all when I remembered how yellow and dirty he always was, his brow full of care and rich only with the fingers that counted his millions, gathering little by little what lucky Rodochares will send spinning presently. But why do we not proceed now? We will have the rest of our fun on the voyage watching the others bemoan themselves.

Klotho

Get in and let the ferryman draw up the anchor.

Charon

My friend, where are you going? The skiff is full already. Wait here till to-morrow. We will ferry you over early in the morning.

Mikyllos

It is a crime, Charon, for you to leave a dead man behind who is stale already. I will indict you before Rhadamanthos for illegal practices. Alas, alack! they are off already, and I shall be left here alone. But why not swim after them? I am not afraid of giving out and drowning, because I am dead already. Moreover, I have not even got the obol to pay the ferryman.

Klotho

What are you doing? Stay where you are, Mikyllos. It is not permitted to cross in that fashion.

Mikyllos

And yet I may possibly get into port before you do.

Klotho

Heaven forbid. Come up with him and catch him. You, Hermes, help pull him in.

Charon

Now, where shall he sit? Every seat is full, as you see.

Hermes

On the despot's shoulders, if you agree.

Klotho

Happy thought, Hermes.

Charon

Climb up, then, and set your foot on the villain's neck; and a fair voyage to us!

Kyniskos

Charon, it is fair to tell you the truth from this moment. I should not have an obol to pay you when I have got across, for I have nothing but this wallet, which you see, and this club. But if you want any baling done, I am ready, or even to take an oar. You will have no fault to find if only you give me a strong, wellbalanced oar.

Charon

Row, then; for even that is payment enough from you.

Kyniskos

Is it, or must I start a boat-song to give the time?

Charon

By all means, if you know some sailor's song.

Kyniskos

I know a number; but see, these others are wailing tearfully in opposition. They will put us out in our singing.

First Dead Man

Alas for my goods!

Second Dead Man

Alas for my fields!

Third Dead Man

Woe is me, what a house I have left!

Fourth Dead Man

How many thousands my heir will get to make ducks and drakes of!

Fifth Dead Man

Alas for my young children!

Sixth Dead Man

Who will gather grapes from the vines I planted for myself last year?

Hermes

Mikyllos, do you make no lament? It is impious for any one to cross without a tear.

Mikyllos

Nonsense. I have nothing to lament for on a prosperous voyage.

Hermes

Still, just join a little in the groaning for custom's sake.

Mikyllos

I will make my moan, then, since you think best, Hermes. Alas for my soles! Alas for my old lasts! Woe is me for my rotten sandals! Poor wretch, I shall never again go without food from daybreak to nightfall! Never again shall I stalk about in winter barefoot and half naked, my teeth chattering with the cold! Who, pray tell, will have my knife and my awl?

Hermes

You have mourned enough; we have almost finished our voyage.