Let me tell you how you stand; your boat is small, as you can see, and unsound, and leaks almost all over; if it lists one way or the other, it will capsize and sink. Yet you come in such numbers all at once, each of you laden with luggage. If, then, you take all this on board, I’m afraid you’ll be sorry for it later on, particularly those of you that can’t swim.

Well, what shall we do to have a good passage?

I’ll tell you. Strip yourselves before you come on board, and leave all this useless stuff on the shore; for, even then, the ferry will hardly hold you. It will be up to you, Hermes, to let none of them aboard after this, unless he has stripped himself and thrown away his trappings, as I said he must. Go and stand by the gangway, and sort them out for admission. Make them strip, before you let them on board.