DIO. You're the right sort, my man.
Now to the ferry.

CHARON. Yoh, up! lay her to.

XAN. Whatever's that?

DIO. Why, that's the lake, by Zeus,
Whereof he spake, and yon's the ferry-boat.

XAN. Poseidon, yes, and that old fellow's Charon.

DIO. Charon! O welcome, Charon! welcome, Charon.

CHAR. Who's for the Rest from every pain and ill?
Who's for the Lethe's plain? the Donkey-shearings?
Who's for Cerberia? Taenarum? or the Ravens?

DIO. I.

CHAR. Hurry in.

DIO. But where are you going really? In truth to the Ravens?

CHAR. Aye, for your behoof. Step in.

DIO. (_To Xan._) Now, lad.

CHAR. A slave? I take no slave,