“You know the tower in the Cemetery? Well; climb up to the top when the Torch race is going to begin; and when the people cry out ‘start,’ start yourself.”
“How do you mean ‘start’? Start from where?”
“Why, start down from the top.”
“What, and dash my brains out? No, not for me, thank you.”
So it is settled that Bacchus and his slave, for he has a slave with him to carry his baggage, shall take the usual route by the Styx.
To the Styx, accordingly, they make their way. Charon the ferryman is plying for hire, “Any one for Rest-from-toil-and-labor Land? For No-Mansland? For the Isle of Dogs?[5]”
Bacchus steps in, and by Charon’s order, takes an oar which he handles very helplessly. The slave has to go round: Charon does not carry slaves, he says. As they slowly make their way across, the frogs from the marsh raise the song of their kind, ending with the burden which is supposed to represent their note, Brekekekex, coax, coax.
It is pitch dark on the further side. When the slave turns up, he advises his master to go on at once. “’Tis the very spot,” he says, “where Hercules told us those terrible wild beasts were.” Bacchus is very valiant.
“A curse upon him! ’twas an idle tale,
He feigned to frighten me, for well he knew,
How brave I am, the envious braggart soul!
Grant, fortune, I may meet some perilous chance
Meet for so bold a journey.”
“O Master, I hear a noise.”