Cataplus

Lucian of Samosata

Lucian, Vol. 2. Harmon, A. M., editor. London: William Heinemann, Ltd.; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1915.

CHARON Well, Clotho, we have had this boat all ship-shape and thoroughly ready to sail for some time. The water is baled out, the mast is set up, the sail is hoisted in stops and each of the oars has a lanyard to it, so that as far as I am concerned there is nothing to hinder our getting up anchor and sailing. But Hermes is behind hand; he should have been here long ago. There is not a passenger aboard the ferryboat, as you see, when she might have made three trips to-day by this time, and here it is almost dusk and I haven’t earned even an obol yet. Besides, Pluto will surely think I am taking it easy all this time, when really someone else is to blame. Our honourable guide of souls[*](Hermes.) has had a drink of Lethewater up there if ever a man did, and so has forgotten to come back to us: he is either wrestling a fall with the boys or playing a tune on the lyre or making speeches to show off his command of piflle, or maybe the gentleman is even playing sneak-thief, for that is one of his accomplishments also. Anyhow, he takes

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liberties with us as if he were free, when really he is half ours.[*](Like a slave in the upper world, Charon identifies himself with his master Pluto.)

CLOTHO But, Charon, how do you know that he hasn’t found something to keep him busy? Zeus may have wanted to make more use of him than usual in affairs up above. He too is his master.

CHARON Yes, Clotho, but he has no right to go too far in playing the master over joint property, for we on our part have never kept Hermes back when he had to go. No, I know the reason: here with us there is nothing but asphodel and libations and funeral-cakes and offerings to the dead, and all else is misty, murky darkness ; in heaven, however, it is all bright, and there is ambrosia in plenty and nectar without stint, so it is likely that he finds it more pleasant to tarry there. And when he leaves us he flies up as if he were escaping from jail, but when it is time to come down he comes with reluctance, at the last moment, slowly and afoot.

CLOTHO Don’t be angry any longer, Charon; here he is close by, you see, bringing us a lot of people, or I should say waving them along with his wand, all in a huddle, like a herd of goats. But what’s this? There is a man in fetters among them and another who is laughing, I see, and one fellow with a wallet over his shoulder and a club in his hand, who has a piercing eye and hurries the others along. Don’t you see, too, that Hermes himself is dripping with sweat and dusty-footed and panting? In fact, he is

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gasping for breath. What’s all this, Hermes? What’s the excitement? You seem to be in a stew, you know.

HERMES Why, Clotho, this miserable sinner ran away and I chased him, and so almost failed to make your boat to-day, that’s all!

CLOTHO Who is he, and what was his object in trying to run away?

HERMES That’s easy to see—he preferred to live! He isa king or a tyrant, to judge from his lamentations and the wailing that he makes, in which he makes out that he has had great happiness taken away from him.

CLOTHO So the poor fool tried to run away, thinking that he could live longer, when the thread of life apportioned to him had already run short?

HERMES Tried to run away, do you say? Why, if this splendid fellow, the one with the stick, had not helped me and we had not caught and bound him, he would have got clean away from us. You see, from the moment Atropos turned him over to me he kept straining and pulling back every inch of the way, and as he braced his feet on the ground he was by no means easy to lead; sometimes, too, he would beg and entreat, wanting to be let go for a little while and promising a heavy bribe. Of course I did not let him go, for I saw that what he was after was impossible. But when we were right by the

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entrance, while I was counting the dead for Aeacus[*](Aeacus is the “collector of customs” (Charon 2). The idea was probably suggested by the Froys of Aristophanes, in which he figures as Pluto’s janitor (464).) as usual and he was comparing them with the tally sent him by your sister, he gave us the slip somehow or other, curse him, and made off. Consequently we were one dead man short in the reckoning, and Aeacus raised his eyebrows and said : “Don’t be too promiscuous, Hermes, in plying your thievery; be content with your pranks in Heaven. The accounts of the dead are carefully kept and cannot be falsified. The tally has a thousand and four marked on it, as you see, and you come to me with one less. You aren’t going to say that Atropos cheated you in the reckoning ?” What he said made me blush, but I speedily recalled what had happened on the way, and when, after glancing about me, I did not see this fellow anywhere, I perceived that he had escaped and pursued with all the speed I could muster along the road leading toward the light. My good friend here followed me of his own free will, and by running as if in a match we caught him just at Taenarus:[*](A promontory in Laconia where the ancients located one of the entrances to Hades ; now Cape Matapan.) that was all he lacked of escaping.