HER. Theseus took them down. And next you'll see great snakes and savage monsters In tens of thousands.

DIO. You needn't try to scare me, I'm going to go.

HER. Then weltering seas of filth And ever-rippling dung: and plunged therein, Whoso has wronged the stranger here on earth, Or robbed his boylove of the promised pay, Or swinged his mother, or profanely smitten His father's cheek, or sworn an oath forsworn, Or copied out a speech of Morsimus.

DIO. There too, perdie, should he be plunged, whoe'er Has danced the sword-dance of Cinesias.

HER. And next the breath of flutes will float around you, And glorious sunshine, such as ours, you'll see, And myrtle groves, and happy bands who clap Their hands in triumph, men and women too.

DIO. And who are they?

HER. The happy mystic bands.

XAN. And I'm the donkey in the mystery show. But I'll not stand it, not one instant longer.

HER. Who'll tell you everything you want to know. You'll find them dwelling close beside the road You are going to travel, just at Pluto's gate. And fare thee well, my brother.

DIO. And to you Good cheer.

(To Xan.) Now sirrah, pick you up the traps.

XAN. Before I've put them down?

DIO. And quickly too.

XAN. No, prithee, no; but hire a body, one They're carrying out, on purpose for the trip.

DIO. If I can't find one?

XAN. Then I'll take them.

DIO. Good. And see! they are carrying out a body now. Hallo! you there, you deadman, are you willing To carry down our little traps to Hades?

CORPSE. What are they?

DIO. These.

CORP. Two drachmas for the job?

DIO. Nay, that's too much.

CORP. Out of the pathway, you!

DIO. Beshrew thee, stop: may-be we'll strike a bargain.

CORP. Pay me two drachmas, or it's no use talking.

DIO. One and a half.

CORP. I'd liefer live again!

XAN. How absolute the knave is! He be hanged! I'll go myself.

DIO. You're the right sort, my man. Now to the ferry.

CHARON. Yoh, up! lay her to.

XAN. Whatever's that?

DIO. Why, that's the lake, by Zeus, Whereof he spake, and yon's the ferry-boat.

XAN. Poseidon, yes, and that old fellow's Charon.

DIO. Charon! O welcome, Charon! welcome, Charon.

CHAR. Who's for the Rest from every pain and ill? Who's for the Lethe's plain? the Donkey-shearings? Who's for Cerberia? Taenarum? or the Ravens?

DIO. I.

CHAR. Hurry in.

DIO. But where are you going really? In truth to the Ravens?

CHAR. Aye, for your behoof. Step in.

DIO. (To Xan.) Now, lad.

CHAR. A slave? I take no slave, Unless he has fought for his bodyrights at sea.

XAN. I couldn't go. I'd got the eye-disease.

CHAR. Then fetch a circuit round about the lake.

XAN. Where must I wait?

CHAR. Beside the Withering stone, Hard by the Rest.

DIO. You understand?

XAN. Too well. O, what ill omen crost me as I started!

CHAR. (To DIO.) Sit to the oar. (Calling.) Who else for the boat? Be quick.

(To DIO.) Hi! what are you doing?

DIO. What am I doing? Sitting On to the oar. You told me to, yourself.

CHAR. Now sit you there, you little Potgut.

DIO. So?

CHAR. Now stretch your arms full length before you.

DIO. So?

CHAR. Come, don't keep fooling; plant your feet, and now Pull with a will.

DIO. Why, how am I to pull? I'm not an oarsman, seaman, Salaminian. I can't!

CHAR. You can. Just dip your oar in once, You'll hear the loveliest timing songs.

DIO. What from?

CHAR. Frog-swans, most wonderful.

DIO. Then give the word.

CHAR. Heave ahoy! heave ahoy!!

FROGS.

Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax! Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax! We children of the fountain and the lake Let us wake Our full choir-shout, as the flutes are ringing out, Our symphony of clear-voiced song. The song we used to love in the Marshland up above, In praise of DIOnysus to produce, Of Nysaean DIOnysus, son of Zeus, When the revel-tipsy throng, all crapulous and gay, To our precinct reeled along on the holy Pitcher day. Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax.

DIO. O, dear! O dear! now I declare I've got a bump upon my rump.

FR. Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax.

DIO. But you, perchance, don't care.

FR. Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax.

DIO. Hang you, and your ko-axing too! There's nothing but ko-ax with you.

FR. That is right, Mr. Busybody, right! For the Muses of the lyre love us well; And hornfoot Pan who plays on the pipe his jocund lays; And Apollo, Harper bright, in our Chorus takes delight For the strong reed's sake which I grow within my lake To be girdled in his lyre's deep shell. Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax.

DIO.

My hands are blistered very sore; My stern below is sweltering so, 'Twill soon, I know, upturn and roar Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax. O tuneful race, O pray give o'er, O sing no more.

FR. Ah, no! ah, no! Loud and louder our chant must flow. Sing if ever ye sang of yore, When in sunny and glorious days Through the rushes and marsh-flags springing On we swept, in the joy of singing Myriad-divine roundelays. Or when fleeing the storm, we went Down to the depths, and our choral song Wildly raised to a loud and long Bubble-bursting accompaniment.

FR. and DIO. Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax.

DIO. This timing song I take from you.

FR. That's a dreadful thing to do.

DIO. Much more dreadful, if I row Till I burst myself, I trow.

FR. and DIO. Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax.

DIO. Go, hang yourselves; for what care I?

FR. All the same we'll shout and cry, Stretching all our throats with song, Shouting, crying, all day long.

FR. and DIO. Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax.

DIO. In this you'll never, never win.

FR. This you shall not beat us in.

DIO. No, nor ye prevail o'er me. Never! never! I'll my song Shout, if need be, all day long, Until I've learned to master your ko-ax. Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax. I thought I'd put a stop to your ko-ax.

CHAR. Stop! Easy! Take the oar and push her to now pay your fare and go.

DIO. Here 'tis: two obols. Xanthias! where's Xanthias? Is it Xanthias there?

XAN. Hoi, hoi!

DIO. Come hither.

XAN. Glad to meet you, master.

DIO. What have you there?

XAN. Nothing but filth and darkness.

DIO. But tell me, did you see the parricides And perjured folk he mentioned?

XAN. Didn't you?

DIO. Poseidon, yes. Why look! (pointing to the audience) I see them now. What's the next step?

XAN. We'd best be moving on. This is the spot where Heracles declared Those savage monsters dwell.

DIO. O hang the fellow. That's all his bluff: he thought to scare me off, The jealous dog, knowing my plucky ways. There's no such swaggerer lives as Heracles. Why, I'd like nothing better than to achieve Some bold adventure, worthy of our trip.

XAN. I know you would. Hallo! I hear a noise.

DIO. Where? what?

XAN. Behind us, there.

DIO. Get you behind.

XAN. No, it's in front.

DIO. Get you in front directly.

XAN. And now I see the most ferocious monster.

DIO. O, what's it like?

XAN. Like everything by turns. Now it's a bull: now it's a mule: and now The loveliest girl.

DIO. O, where? I'll go and meet her.

XAN. It's ceased to be a girl: it's a dog now.

DIO. It is Empusa!

XAN. Well, its face is all Ablaze with fire.

DIO. Has it a copper leg?

XAN. A copper leg, yes, one; and one of cow dung.

DIO. O, whither shall I flee?

XAN. O, whither I?

DIO. My priest, protect me, and we'll sup together.

XAN. King Heracles, we're done for.

DIO. O, forbear, Good fellow, call me anything but that.

XAN. Well then, Dionysus.

DIO. O, that's worse again.

XAN. (To the Spectre.) Aye, go thy way. O master, here, come here.

DIO. O, what's up now?

XAN. Take courage; all's serene. And, like Hegelochus, we now may say "Out of the storm there comes a new fine wether." Empusa's gone.

DIO. Swear it.

XAN. By Zeus she is.

DIO. Swear it again.

XAN. By Zeus.

DIO. Again

XAN. By Zeus. O dear, O dear, how pale I grew to see her, But he, from fright has yellowed me all over.

DIO. Ah me, whence fall these evils on my head? Who is the god to blame for my destruction? Air, Zeus's chamber, or the Foot of Time?

(A flute is played behind the scenes.)

DIO. Hist!

XAN. What's the matter.

DIO. Didn't you hear it?

XAN. What?

DIO. The breath of flutes.

XAN. Aye, and a whiff of torches Breathed o'er me too; a very mystic whiff.

DIO. Then crouch we down, and mark what's going on.

CHORUS. (In the distance.) O Iacchus! O Iacchus! O Iacchus!

XAN. I have it, master: 'tis those blessed Mystics, Of whom he told us, sporting hereabouts. They sing the Iacchus which Diagoras made.

DIO. I think so too: we had better both keep quiet And so find out exactly what it is.

(The calling forth of Iacchus.)

CHOR.

O Iacchus! power excelling, here in stately temple dwelling, O Iacchus! O Iacchus! Come to tread this verdant level, Come to dance in mystic revel, Come whilst round thy forehead hurtles Many a wreath of fruitful myrtles, Come with wild and saucy paces Mingling in our joyous dance, Pure and holy, which embraces all the charms of all the Graces When the mystic choirs advance.

XAN. Holy and sacred queen, Demeter's daughter, O, what a jolly whiff of pork breathed o'er me!

DIO. Hist! and perchance you'll get some tripe yourself.

(The welcome to Iacchus.)

CHOR. Come, arise, from sleep awaking, come the fiery torches shaking, O Iacchus! O Iacchus! Morning Star that shinest nightly. Lo, the mead is blazing brightly, Age forgets its years and sadness, Aged knees curvet for gladness, Lift thy flashing torches o'er us, Marshal all thy blameless train, Lead, O lead the way before us; lead the lovely youthful Chorus To the marshy flowery plain.