His long beard hangs unkempt; his shapeless robe
Is knotted into place; his fierce eyes gleam
From sunken cheeks; and he, as ferryman,
With his long pole propels his bark across.
He now his empty boat unto the shore
Was turning to receive the waiting souls,770
When Hercules requested to be borne
Across the stream. The throng of shades give way;
But fiercely Charon cries: "Whither so bold
Dost thou haste on? Stay there thy hurrying steps."