The Frogs | Page 3

track, a short and beaten cut. By pestle and mortar.
DIO. Hemlock, do you mean?
HER. Just so.
DIO. No, that's too deathly cold a way; You have hardly started ere your shins get numbed.
HER. Well, would you like a steep and swift descent?
DIO. Aye, that's the style: my walking powers are small.
HER. Go down to the Cerameicus.
DIO. And do what?
HER. Climb to the tower's top pinnacle--
DIO. And then?
HER. Observe the torch-race started, and when all The multitude is shouting Let them go, Let yourself go.
DIO. Go whither?
HER. To the ground.
DIO. O that would break my brain's two envelopes. I'll not try that
HER. Which will you try?
DIO. The way you went yourself.
HER. A parlous voyage that, For first you'll come to an enormous lake Of fathomless depth.
DIO. And how am I to cross?
HER. An ancient mariner will row you over In a wee boat, so big. The fare's two obols.
DIO. Fie! The power two obols have, the whole world through! How came they thither?
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