The Ferry (20-22)

Alas for my goods!

Alas for my fields!

Woe is me, what a house I have left!

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

Alas for my young children!

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

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

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

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

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?

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

Come, pay me the ferry-charge first! -Give me yours, too. Now they have all paid. -Pay me your obol, too, Mikyllos.

You are joking, Charon, or else your accounts are writ in water, as they say, if you expect any obol from Mikyllos. I absolutely do not know whether an obol is four-sided or round.

This is a fine, profitable voyage to-day!

Take them and conduct them, Hermes. I myself must sail to the other shore, to bring over Indopatris and Eraminthe, the Seres. They are already dead just now from fighting with each other about the boundaries of their territories.

Let us proceed, friends, or, rather, all follow me in order.

Goodness, how dark it is. Where now is the handsome Megillos? Or how can any one tell here whether Simmiche is more beautiful than Phryne? All things are equal and of the same complexion, and there are no such things as degrees of beauty. Even my threadbare cloak, which always used to seem hideous to me, is now just as good as the king's purple, for they are both invisible and covered by the same darkness. Kyniskos, where may you happen to be?

Here I am. Let us stroll on together, if agreeable to you.

By all means. Give me your arm. Tell me, is not this much the same sort of thing as the Eleusinian mysteries-for of course you have been initiated?

You are right. See, now, this person advancing with a torch, looking fiercely and

Probably, from the look of her dress.