_Leader._ You may batter and bore, You may thunder and roar, Yet I’ll never give o’er Till I’m hard at death’s door-- This rib, by the way, is confoundedly sore). _Semich. 1._ With my croak! croak! croak! _Semich. 2_ (_dim._). Croak! croak! croak! _Full Chorus_ (_in a dying cadence_). Croak! croak! croak! [_The Frogs disappear._ _Bacchus_ (_looking over the boat’s edge_). Spoke! spoke! spoke! [_To_ CHARON. Pull away, my old friend, For at last there’s an end To their croak! croak! croak! [BACCHUS _pays his two oboli and is landed._ _THE PASSAGE OF THE STYX_ CHARON, BACCHUS, _and_ XANTHIAS _Charon._ Hoy! Bear a hand there! Heave ashore! _Bacchus._ What’s this? _Xanthias._ The lake it is--the place he told us of. By Jove! and there’s the boat--and here’s old Charon! _Bacchus._ Well, Charon! Welcome, Charon! Welcome kindly! _Charon._ Who wants the ferryman? Anybody waiting To leave the pangs of life? A passage, anybody? To Lethe’s wharf? To Cerberus’ reach? To Tartarus? To Tænarus? To Perdition? _Bacchus._ Yes, I. _Charon._ Get in then. _Bacchus._ Tell me, where are you going? To perdition, really? _Charon._ Yes, to oblige you, I will-- With all my heart. Step in there. _Bacchus._ Have a care! Take care, good Charon! Charon, have a care! (_Getting into the boat._) Come, Xanthias, come! _Charon._ I take no slaves aboard, Except they’ve volunteer’d for the naval victory. _Xanthias._ I could not; I was suffering with sore eyes. _Charon._ Off with you, round by the end of the lake. _Xanthias._ And whereabouts shall I wait? _Charon._ At the Stone of Repentance, By the Slough of Despond, beyond the Tribulations. You understand me? _Xanthias._ Yes, I understand you-- A lucky, promising direction, truly. _Charon_ (_to_ BACCHUS). Sit down at the oar. Come, quick, if there are more coming!-- Hullo! what’s that you’re doing? (BACCHUS _is seated in a buffoonish attitude in the side of the boat where the oar was fastened._) _Bacchus._ What you told me. I’m sitting at the oar.