The Downward Journey or The Tyrant

​Charon Well, Clotho, this boat of ours has long been ready and very well prepared for putting to sea; for the bilge-water has been pumped out, the mast is raised, the sail is sheeted home, and each of the oars is fastened with its thong, and nothing prevents us, as far as I am concerned, from weighing anchor and sailing away. But Hermes is late, though he ought to have been here long ago; at any rate, the ferry-boat is empty of passengers, though, as you see, it could have sailed across three times already today; and it is almost time for unyoking the oxen, yet we have not earned even a single obol. And then Pluto, I know well, will suppose that I am idling in these matters, and that too when the blame lies with another. But our fine and noble conductor of the dead, like anyone else, seems to have drunk the water of Lethe himself up there and forgotten to return to us, and is either wrestling with the youths, or playing the cithara, or spinning some yarns to display his own nonsense, or perhaps the noble fellow is even thieving somewhere on his way; for this also is one of his arts. At any rate, he behaves with free-and-easy independence toward us, and that too though he is ours by half.

​Clotho But how do you know, Charon, whether some business did not fall upon him, because Zeus needed to use him further for affairs up above? He too is a master, after all. Charon But not so as, Clotho, to lord it over a common possession beyond measure, since we too have never detained him when he ought to depart. But I know the reason; for with us there is only asphodel and libations and funeral cakes and offerings, and all the rest is gloom and mist and darkness, while in heaven everything is bright, and ambrosia is plenteous and nectar abundant; so it seems he prefers to linger with them. And from us he flies away as if escaping from some prison; but when it is time to come down, he descends slowly and at a walking pace, with difficulty and at last.

​Clotho Do not be angry any longer, Charon; for here he is himself close by, as you see, bringing a good many people to us, or rather driving them all together with his rod like a flock of goats. But what is this? I see one bound among them, and another laughing, and a certain one with a wallet slung about him and holding a staff in his hand, looking sharp and urging the others on. And do you not see Hermes himself dripping with sweat, his feet covered with dust, and panting? At any rate, his mouth is full of breathlessness. What is this, Hermes? What is the haste? For you seem to us to be troubled. Hermes What else, Clotho, than that by chasing this scoundrel who ran away, I was within a little of being a ship-deserter for you today? Clotho Who is he? Or what did he want that he ran away? Hermes That is obvious: he wanted to live. He is some king or tyrant, to judge at least from his lamentations and what he wails about, saying that he has been deprived of some great happiness. Clotho And then did the fool run away, as though he could survive when the thread spun for him had already run out?