CHAR. Come, don't keep fooling; plant your feet, and now
Pull with a will.

DIO. Why, how am _I_ to pull? I'm not an oarsman, seaman,
Salaminian. I can't!

CHAR. You can. Just dip your oar in once,
You'll hear the loveliest timing songs.

DIO. What from?

CHAR. Frog-swans, most wonderful.

DIO. Then give the word.

CHAR. Heave ahoy! heave ahoy!!

FROGS.

Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax!
Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax!
We children of the fountain and the lake
Let us wake
Our full choir-shout, as the flutes are ringing out,
Our symphony of clear-voiced song.
The song we used to love in the Marshland up above,
In praise of DIOnysus to produce,
Of Nysaean DIOnysus, son of Zeus,
When the revel-tipsy throng, all crapulous and gay,