Cataplus

Clotho Well, never mind now; here he comes, look, and a fine host of passengers with him; a fine flock, rather; he hustles them along with his staff like so many goats, But what’s this? One of them is bound, and another enjoying the joke; and there is one with a wallet slung beside him, and a stick in his hand; a cantankerous-looking fellow; he keeps the rest moving. And just look at Hermes! Bathed in perspiration, and his feetcovered with dust! See how he pants; he is quite out of breath. What is the matter, Hermes? Tell us all about it; you seem disturbed.

Hermes The matter is that this rascal ran away; I had to go after him, and had well nigh played you false for this trip, I can tell you.

Clotho Why, who is he? What did he want to run away for?

Hermes His motive is sufficiently clear: he had a preference for remaining alive. He is some king or tyrant, as I gather from his piteous allusions to blessedness no longer his.

Clotho And the fool actually tried to run away, and thought to prolong his life when the thread of Fate was exhausted?

Hermes Tried! He would have got clean away, but for that capital fellow there with the club; he gave me a hand, and we caught and bound him. The whole way along, from the moment that Atropus handed him over to me, he dragged and

Clotho There now, Charon! And we were beginning to accuse Hermes of neglect.

Charon Well, and why are we waiting here, as if there had not been enough delay already?

Clotho True. Let them come aboard. I’ll to my post by the gangway, with my notebook, and take their names and countries as they come up, and details of their deaths; and you can stow them away as you get them.—Hermes, let us have those babies in first; I shall get nothing out of them.

Hermes Here, skipper. Three hundred of them, including those that were exposed.

Charon A precious haul, on my word!—These are but green grapes, Hermes.

Hermes Who next, Clotho? The Unwept?

Clotho Ah! I take you.—Yes, up with the old fellows. I have no time to-day for prehistoric research. All over sixty, pass on! What’s the matter with them? They don’t hear me; they are deaf with age. I think you will have to pick them up, like the babies, and get them along that way.

Hermes Here they are; fine well-matured fruit, gathered in due season; three hundred and ninety-eight of them,

Charon Nay, nay; these are no better than raisins.

Clotho Bring up the wounded next, Hermes. Now I can get to work. Tell me how you were killed. Or no; I had better look at my notes, and call you over. Eighty-four due to be killed in battle yesterday, in Mysia, ‘These to include Gobares, son of Oxyartes.

Hermes Adsunt.

Clotho The seven who killed themselves for love. Also Theagenes, the philosopher, for love of the Megarian courtesan.

Hermes Here they are, look.

Clotho And the rival claimants to thrones, who slew one another?

Hermes Here!

Clotho And the one murdered by his wife and her paramour?

Hermes Straight in front of you,

Clotho Now the victims of the law,—the cudgelled and the crucified. And where are those sixteen who were killed by robbers?

Hermes Here; you may know them by their wounds. Am I to bring the women too?

Clotho Yes, certainly; and all who were shipwrecked; it is the same kind of death. And those who died of fever, bring them too, the doctor Agathocles and all.

Then there was a Cynic philosopher, who was to have succumbed to a dinner with

Cynic Here I stand this long time, my good Clotho. Now what had I done to deserve such a weary spell of life? You gave me pretty nearly a spindleful of it. I often tried to cut the thread and away; but somehow it never would give.

Clotho I left you as a censor and physician of human frailties: pass on, and good luck to you.

Cynic No, by Zeus! First let us see our captive safe on board. Your judgement might be perverted by his entreaties.

Clotho Let me see; who is he?

Hermes Megapenthes, son of Lacydes; tyrant.

Clotho Come up, Megapenthes.

Megapenthes. Nay, nay, my lady Clotho; suffer me to return for a little while, and I will come of my own accord, without waiting to be summoned,

Clotho What do you want to go for?

Megapenthes. I crave permission to complete my palace: I left the building half-finished.

Clotho Pooh! Come along.

Megapenthes. Oh Fate, I ask no long reprieve. Vouchsafe me this one day, that I may inform my wife where my great treasure lies buried.

Clotho Impossible. 'Tis Fate’s decree.

Megapenthes. And all that money is to be thrown away?

Clotho Not thrown away. Be under no uneasiness. Your cousin Megacles will take charge of it.

Megapenthes. Oh, monstrous! My enemy, whom from sheer good-nature I omitted to put to death?

Clotho The same. He will survive you for rather more than forty years; in the full enjoyment of your harem, your wardrobe, and your treasure.

Megapenthes. It is too bad of you, Clotho, to hand over my property to my worst enemy.

Clotho My dear sir, it was Cydimachus’s property first, surely? You only succeeded to it by murdering him, and butchering his children before his eyes.

Megapenthes. Yes, but it was mine after that.

Clotho Well, and now your term of possession expires.

Megapenthes. A word in your ear, madam; no one else must hear this.—Sirs, withdraw for a space.—Clotho, if you will let me escape, I pledge myself to give you a quarter of a million sterling this very day.

Clotho Ha, ha! So your millions are still running in your head?

Megapenthes. Shall I throw in the two mixing-bowls that I got by the murder of Cleocritus? They weigh a couple of tons apiece; refined gold!

Clotho Drag him up. We shall never get him to come on board by himself.

Megapenthes. I call you all to witness! My city-wall, my docks, remain unfinished. I only wanted five days more to complete them.

Clotho Never mind. It will be another’s work now.

Megapenthes. Stay! One request I can make with a clear conscience.

Clotho Well?

Megapenthes. Suffer me only to complete the conquest of Persia; and to impose tribute on Lydia; ... and erect a colossal monument to myself, ... and inscribe thereon the military achievements of my life. Then let me die.

Clotho Creature, this is no single day’s reprieve: you would want something like twenty years.

Megapenthes. Oh, but I am quite prepared to give security for my expeditious return, Nay, I could provide a substitute, if preferred;—my well-beloved!

Clotho Wretch! How often have you prayed that he might survive you!

Megapenthes. That was a long time ago. New,—I see a better use for him.

Clotho But he is due to be here, shortly, let me tell you. He is to be put to death by the new sovereign.

Megapenthes. Well, Clotho, I hope you will not refuse my last request.

Clotho Which is?

Megapenthes. I should like to know how things will be, now that I am gone.

Clotho Certainly; you shall have that mortification. Your wife will pass into the hands of Midas, your slave; he has been her gallant for some time past.

Megapenthes. Acurse on him! 'Twas at her request that I gave him his freedom.

Clotho Your daughter will take her place in the harem of the present monarch. ‘Then all the old statues and portraits which the city set up in your honour will be overturned,—to the entertainment, no doubt, of the spectators.

Megapenthes. And will no friend resent these doings?

Clotho Who was your friend? Who had any reason to be? Need I explain that the cringing courtiers who lauded your every word and deed were actuated either by hope or by fear —time-servers every man of them, with a keen eye to the main chance?

Megapenthes. And these are they whose feasts rang with my name! who, as they poured their libations, invoked every blessing on my head! Not one but would have died before me, could he have had his will; nay, they swore by no other name.

Clotho Yes; and you dined with one of them yesterday, and it cost you your life. It was that last cup you drank that brought you here.

Megapenthes. Ah, I noticed a bitter taste—But what was his object?

Clotho Oh, you want to know too much. It is high time you came on board.