Cataplus

Klotho: Well, Klotho, my skiff here has been ready and in prime sailing-trim this long time. I have baled it out and set up the mast and bent the sail and furnished every oar with a thong. As far as I am concerned, there is nothing to prevent our weighing anchor and setting sail. But Hermes is late; he ought to have been here long ago. The ferry-boat is empty of passengers, as you see, though it might have made the passage three times to-day already. It is almost evening now, and we have not yet taken in a single obol. I know what will happen next. Pluto will suspect me of having been lazy in the matter, and all the while somebody else is to blame. But our noble and distinguished conductor of the dead has taken a draught of the earthly Lethe like any one else, and forgotten to come back to us. He is either wrestling with the lads, or playing the cither, or making speeches to air his nonsense; or very probably the gentleman is even stealing on the sly, for that, too, is one of his accomplishments. So he gives himself superior airs, and yet he is half one of us.

Klotho: What, Charon? How do you know that some pressage of business has not overtaken him? Perhaps Zeus has had to use him more than usual in matters above. He is his master, too.

Charon: Not so far as to have more than his share of control over a common servant. Certainly we have never detained him when he ought to go. But I know why it is. Down here there is nothing but asphodel and funeral libations and sacrificial cakes and offerings to the shades. All the rest is gloom and mist and darkness. But in heaven everything is radiant, and there is ambrosia in abundance, and no stint of nectar. So I imagine it is pleasanter to linger among these things. He flies from here as though he were running away from a prison. But when it is time to come down his pace is so leisurely and slow that he hardly gets here at all.

Klotho: Don't be angry any longer, Charon, for here he is himself, quite near, you see, bringing us a great many people and driving the crowd along with his staff more as if they were a herd of goats. But what is this? I see one in irons among them, and another laughing, and one has a leathern pouch slung about him and carries a club in his hand. He looks fiercely about and urges on the others. See, Hermes himself, too, is dripping with perspiration and panting, and his feet are covered with dust. He can hardly breathe. What is the matter, Hermes? What is your hurry? It looks to us as if you were in trouble.

Hermes: It is all this wretch here, Klotho. He ran away, and I chased him till I came near deserting the ship for to-day.

Klotho: Who is he, and what did he want to run away for?

Hermes: That is easy to see-because he preferred to live. He is some king or despot, to judge from his lamentations and the things he mourns for. He says he has been deprived of great happiness of some sort.

Klotho: Then the poor fool tried to run away because he thought he could come to life again after the thread woven for him had already come to an end?

Hermes: Tried to run away, do you say? Yes, and if my very good friend here, the one with the club, had not helped me to capture him and put him in irons, he would have got clean away from us. For, from the moment Atropos handed him over to me, the whole way along he has been resisting and struggling, and he would plant his feet on the ground so that he was not exactly easy to conduct. And sometimes he would fall to supplication and prayer, begging me to let him go for a little and promising great bribes. But I, of course, did not loose him, for I saw he was longing for the impossible. But when we had come to the very entrance and I was giving the customary inventory of the dead to Aiakos, and he was reckoning them by the memorandum sent to him by your sister, that confounded villain managed somehow to give us the slip and get off. Accordingly, there was one soul short by the count, and Aiakos, raising his eyebrows, said, "Don't use your thieving skill in all departments, Hermes. Be satisfied with your tricks in heaven. Dealings with the dead are exact, and can in no way evade scrutiny. The memorandum, you see, has 'one thousand and four' written on it, but you come bringing me one too few, unless you are prepared to say that Atropos has falsified her accounts for you." I blushed at this speech, and instantly remembered what had happened on the road, and when I cast my eye about and saw this fellow nowhere I perceived that he had run away, and gave chase as hard as I could up the road to daylight. This good soul here followed me of his own motion. We ran like racers, and only caught him at Tain- He was as near as that to getting away.

Klotho: And we, Charon, were just accusing Hermes of neglecting his duties!

Charon: Well, what are we waiting for now? Haven't we lost enough time already?

Klotho: You are right; let them embark. I will take my note-book in my hand and sit by the gangway, as usual; and as each one of them comes aboard I will find out who he is and whence he comes, and what sort of ath he died by. Do you, Charon, receive them and stack them together in lots; and you, Hermes, put these new-born children aboard first. For how could they answer any of my questions?

Hermes: See, ferryman, there are three hundred of these for you, counting those that were exposed.

Charon: Dear me, that is a large bag. You have brought us unripe dead.

Hermes: Shall we put the unwept aboard next to these, Klotho?

Klotho: Do you mean the aged? Yes, do so. Why should I trouble myself now to inquire into such ancient history? All you who are over sixty come forward at once. What is this? They do not hear me, because their ears are stopped with age. Probably you will have to lift these, too, and ship them.

Hermes: Here is another lot, lacking two of four hundred. These are all soft and ripe, and gathered in their prime.

Charon: No, by Jove! they are all raisins already.

Klotho: Bring on the wounded next to these,

Hermes: I will begin with you. Tell me by what death you have come here; or, rather, I will examine you by reference to the documents. Eightyfour must have died in battle yesterday in Mysia, among them Gobares, the son of Oxyartes.

Hermes: They are here.

Klotho: Seven cut their own throats for love, and Theagenes the philosopher on account of the courtesan from Megara.

Hermes: These are at hand.

Klotho: Where are the two who killed each other fighting for the throne?

Hermes: They are here.

Klotho: And he who was murdered by his wife and her lover?

Hermes: Here he is, close by.

Klotho: Now bring those from the law-courts; I mean the impaled and the flogged to death. And where are the sixteen who were killed by robbers?

Hermes: You see this lot are here, the wounded. Shall I bring on the women en masse?

Klotho: By all means; and the shipwrecked en masse, for they died in the same way. And as for the fever patients, bring them all at once, too, and Agathokles the doctor with them.

Klotho: Where is the philosopher Kyniskos, who ought to have died of eating Hecate's supper and the purifiactory eggs and a raw polyp to top off with?

Kyniskos: I have been standing here at your service for some time, my good Klotho. What wrong have I done that you left me on earth so long? You almost spun out your whole spindle for me. However, I tried often to cut the thread and come, but somehow or other it was not to be broken.

Klotho: I left you to be a guardian and physician of human errors. But come aboard, and luck go with you!

Kyniskos: By Heaven, no, unless we shall first have shipped the fellow in fetters, for I am afraid he will persuade you with his prayers.

Klotho: Come, let me know who he is.

Hermes: Megapenthes, son of Lakydes, a despot.

Klotho: Come aboard.

Megapenthes: Not for worlds, Madam Klotho. Let me go up for a little while. Then I will come to you by my own free-will at no one's summons.

Klotho: What is the reason you want to go?

Megapenthes: Give me time to finish my house. I left my dwelling behind half built.

Klotho: Nonsense! Get in.

Megapenthes: I do not ask for a long time, Fate. Let me stay just this one day, to appear to my wife and tell her something about my moneywhere I kept my great treasure hidden.

Klotho: It is fixed. You cannot do it.

Megapenthes: Then will all that gold be lost?

Klotho: Not at all; you may be at ease about that. Your cousin Megakles will get hold of it.

Megapenthes: Oh, what an affront! My enemy, whom I was too easy-going to put to death before me?

Klotho: The same. He will survive you forty years and something over, in possession of your harem and your clothes and all your wealth.

Mcgapenthes: It is unjust, Klotho, to assign my property to my greatest enemies.

Klotho: I suppose, my noble sir, that you did not seize it when it belonged to Kydimachos, murdering the man himself and then slaying his children on their father's warm body?

Megapenthes: But at present it was mine.

Klotho: Well, your time of possession had run out.

Megapenthes: Listen, Klotho. There is something I should like to say to you in private without witnesses. You others step aside a moment. If you will give me a chance to run away I promise to give you this day a million dollars in coin of the realm.

Klotho: You are absurd. Can you not get gold and dollars out of your head yet?

Megapenthes: I will throw in the two bowls, if you like, that I got when I killed Kleakritos. kam They weigh a hundred talents of unalloyed gold apiece.

Klotho: Drag him in, for apparently he will not embark of his own will.

Megapenthes: I call you people to witness that my wall and my dockyards are unfinished. I could have completed them if I had lived five days longer.

Klotho: Never mind. Some one else will build them.

Megapenthes: Anyhow, this one thing it is perfectly reasonable to ask for.

Klotho: What is that?

Megapenthes: To come to life long enough to subdue the Persians, and impose taxes on the Lydians, and raise a huge monument to myself, inscribing on it how many great and warlike deeds I did in my lifetime.

Klotho: My man, this is not asking for a single day any longer, but to spend about twenty years.

Megapenthes: I am ready, moreover, to furnish sureties for my quickness and my reappearance. If you wish it, I will even provide you a substitute in my place in the person of my one beloved son.

Klotho: You wretch, him whom you have often prayed you might leave behind you?

Megapenthes: That used to be my prayer, but now I see the better course.

Klotho: He, too, will join you soon, slain by the new king.

Megapenthes: Well, but do not refuse me this thing at any rate, Fate.

Klotho: What is it?

Megapenthes: I wish to know what the course of events will be after me.

Klotho: You shall, for your knowledge will be an added torment. Midas the slave will have your wife; he has been her lover this long time.

Megapenthes: The villain! It was by her persuasion that I gave him his freedom.

Klotho: Your daughter will be counted among the harem of the present monarch. Your portraits and statues, which the city erected for you in times past, will all be overturned, a laughingstock to the beholders.

Megapenthes: Tell me, is not one of my friends moved to anger by these acts?

Klotho: Why, who was a friend to you? What reason had any one to be? You know that all of them, those who bowed before you and those who extolled your every word and deed, acted from fear or hope, being friendly to your office and having an eye to the main chance.

Megapenthes: And yet they used to pour out their libations at the banquets, and pray with a loud voice that many good things might befall me, saying that every one of them was ready to die in my stead if possible, and altogether they swore by me.

Klotho: Accordingly, it was after dining with one of them that you died yesterday. For that last cup that was handed to you sent you here.

Megapenthes: That is why I tasted something bitter! What was his object in doing it?

Klotho: You ask too many questions when you ought to be embarking.

Megapenthes: There is one thing that chokes me most of all, Klotho, and makes me long to rise to the light again, if but for a moment.

Klotho: What is this? It must be something tremendous.

Megapenthes: Karion, my slave, as soon as he saw I was dead, came late in the evening into the room where I was lying, without any trouble, for no one was so much as watching by me, and looked at me and said, "You wretched little creature, you gave me a blow many a time when I didn't deserve it." With these words he fell to plucking out my hair and beating me to his heart's content, and finally he spat upon me and went off, saying, "Go to the devil!" I was aflame with rage, but all the same I could not do anything to him, stiff and cold as I was. But if I could get hold of him—

Klotho: Stop your threats and come aboard. It is time now for you to go to your trial.

Megapenthes: And who will venture to pass judgment on a man of kingly rank?

Klotho: No one will judge the king, but the dead man must come before Rhadamanthos. You will soon see him assigning his doom to each with great justice and according to merit. Don't waste any more time just now.

Megapenthes: Make me a private citizen, Fate, if you will, a poor man, a slave instead of a king as I was. Only let me come to life again!

Klotho: Where is the man with the club? And you, too, Hermes; drag him in by the foot, for he would not come voluntarily.

Hermes: Come with me, you runaway. Take him, ferryman, and, to make him safe, dash it—

Charon: All right. He shall be made fast to the mast.

Megapenthes: Assuredly I ought to be placed in the seat of honor.

Klotho: Why?

Magapenthes: Because, by Heaven, I was a despot and had a body-guard of ten thousand men.

Kyniskos: Then Karion was right to pluck out the hair of such a mischievous creature. You will rue your tyranny when you have tasted the club.

Megapenthes: Will Kyniskos, then, dare to raise his staff against me? Did I not almost crucify you a day or two ago because you were too free and rough and disrespectful?

Kyniskos: That is why you, too, will stay crucified against the mast.

Mikyllos: Tell me, Klotho, do you take no account of me at all? Or because I am a poor man, is that a reason why I ought to be the last to embark, too?

Klotho: And who are you?

Mikyllos: Mikyllos the shoemaker.

Klotho: And you object to lingering? Do you not see what promises the tyrant makes on condition of being let off for a little while? I am amazed, then, if you, too, are not pleased at the delay.

Mikyllos: Listen, best of Fates. I am not greatly cheered by such a boon as the Cyclops gave to "Noman" in promising to eat him last. First or last, the same teeth are waiting. Moreover, I am not in the same plight as the rich. Our lives are poles asunder, as they say. Now the despot was considered happy while he lived. He was feared and stared at by all. When he left behind him so much gold and silver and raiment, so many horses and banquets and lovely boys and beautiful women, it was natural that he should take it ill and grieve at being dragged from them. For the soul sticks to such things as if it were somehow glued to them, and it is loth to give them up without a struggle, because it has clung to them so long. Or, rather, it is as if they had come to be bound by fetters that cannot be broken. Of course if any one drags them off by force they shriek and beg mercy; and though they have a bold face for other things, they show themselves cowards about this, the road that leads to Hades. They turn back and have a lovesick longing to see the things of daylight even if from afar, just as this fool here did, trying to run away on the road and persecuting you with entreaties here.

Mikyllos: But I, because I had nothing at stake in life, neither estates nor apartment houses nor gold nor furniture nor reputation nor portraits, naturally had my loins girt up; and as soon as Atropos nodded to me I gladly threw down my knife and my sole-for I had a boot in my hand-and jumped up and followed barefoot, not even waiting to wash off the stains. from the leather. No, I rather led the way, looking ahead; for there was nothing behind that turned my head or called me back. And, by Zeus! I see already that everything is charming down here; for in my opinion it is most delightful to have universal equality, and no one better than his neighbor. I judge that debtors are not dunned for their debts here nor taxes paid; and most important of all, no one is frozen in winter or falls ill or gets beaten by his betters. We poor men laugh it is the rich who feel the pain and bewail their case.

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.

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

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.

Charon: This is a fine, profitable voyage to-day! However, take yourselves ashore. I am going after the horses and cows and dogs and other animals, for they, too, must needs cross now.

Klotho: 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.

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

Mikyllos: 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?

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

Mikyllos: 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?

Kyniskos: You are right. See, now, this person advancing with a torch, looking fiercely and threateningly about her. I wonder whether it is an Erinnys?

Mikyllos: Probably, from the look of her dress.

Hermes: Receive these people, Tisiphone-a thousand and four.

Tisiphone: Indeed, Rhadamanthos here has been waiting for you a long time.

Rhadamanthos: Bring them forward, Erinnys. You, Hermes, officiate as herald and summon them.

Kyniskos: Rhadamanthos, in the name of your father, produce me and examine me first.

Rhadamanthos: Why?

Kyniskos: I have a great desire to accuse some one of the evil deeds I know he committed in his lifetime, and my testimony would not be worthy of credence unless it has first been shown what my character is and how I passed my life.

Rhadamanthos: And who are you?

Kyniskos: Kyniskos, my good sir, of the philosophical persuasion.

Rhadamanthos: Come here and stand your trial first. Hermes, call for the accusers.

Hermes: If any one accuses Kyniskos, the defendant, let him come forward.

Kyniskos: No one comes.

Rhadamanthos: But this is not enough, Kyniskos. Take off your clothes, so that I may judge you by your brands.

Kyniskos: How should I be a branded slave?

Rhadamanthos: Every evil deed that one of you commits in his life brands invisible marks on his soul.

Kyniskos: Here I stand stripped, so look for these brands you talk about.

Rhadamanthos: He is spotless from head to foot, except for these three or four blurred and very indistinct brands. But what is this? Here are the prints and traces of many burnings, but they have been washed out somehow, or rather cut out. What do these mean, Kyniskos, and how is it that you look spotless again?

Kyniskos: I will tell you. I used to be wicked because I was ignorant, and won many a brand by this means. But as soon as I began to take to philosophy, I washed off, little by little, all the stains from my soul, by the use of this so excellent and effectual medicine.

Rhadamanthos: I dismiss you to the islands of the blest, to the society of the noblest, after you have accused the despot you mention. Summon the others.

Mikyllos: My case, too, Rhadamanthos, is a trifling one, and calls for a short inquiry. I am stripped for you already, so examine me.

Rhadamanthos: Who may you be?

Mikyllos: Mikyllos, the shoemaker.

Rhadamanthos: Well done, Mikyllos; you are perfectly spotless and unmarked. You, too, I dismiss along with Kyniskos here. Now summon the tyrants.

Hermes: Let Megapenthes, son of Lakydes, appear. Which way are you turning? Come forward. I am summoning you, the despot. Shove him out, Tisiphone, head-foremost into the middle.

Rhadamanthos: But you, Kyniskos, accuse him now and expose him utterly, for the man is at hand as defendant.

Kyniskos: There is no need of words at all, for you will very speedily know him for what he is from his brands. However, I, too, will unveil the man for you and exhibit him still more plainly by what I say. The deeds this accursed wretch committed while he was a private citizen I think it best to omit; but when he banded himself with the most daring spirits and collected a bodyguard, and, revolting, imposed himself on the State as a tyrant, he slew thousands without trial, and by taking possession of their property amassed enormous wealth, and left no form of excess untried. No; he treated the wretched citizens with every sort of insolence. He seduced the maidens, debauched the young men, and bore himself in every way offensively to his subjects. And you could not even punish him adequately for his suspicion, his vanity, and his overbearing manner to those who happened in his way, for a man would more easily have looked at the sun without winking than at him. And who could describe his inventiveness in the way of punishments to gratify his cruelty? He did not keep his hands. off even his next of kin. And you will know immediately that these things are not an empty slander against him if you summon those that were murdered by him. In fact, they are here unbidden, as you see, crowding about him and throttling him. All these, Rhadamanthos, died by the wretch's hand. Some he plotted against for the sake of their beautiful wives. Some gave way to anger at his insolence when their sons were led astray. Some died because they were rich, and some because they were honest and well-conducted, and in no way complacent of his actions.

Rhadamanthos: Enough already of witnesses! But strip him of his purple, too, so that we may know how many brand-marks he has. Dear me, he is perfectly livid and covered with marks, or, rather, he is black and blue with them. Now, how should he be punished? Shall we cast him into the fiery stream or hand him over to Kerberos?

Kyniskos: Not at all, but, with your permission, I will suggest a new and fitting punishment for him.

Rhadamanthos: Speak; I shall be deeply grateful to you.

Kyniskos: It is the custom, I believe, for all, when they die, to drink of the water of Lethe.

Rhadamanthos: Certainly.

Kyniskos: Then let him alone of all men have no taste of it?

Rhadamanthos: Why?

Kyniskos: In this way he will undergo the worst punishment, remembering what he was and what power he had on earth, and pondering on his lost splendors.

Rhadamanthos: You are right. Let him be sentenced and carried off and bound along with Tantalos, remembering the deeds he did while he was alive.