What's that? Someone swimming my Styx. On the bank ... shaking himself. Momus, my half-brother. [And on bounds Momus. He is the comic man, it's easy to see. Well, gods and godlings must be made to laugh sometimes, and since life is simple to them, they laugh at the simplest things. Walking is rather serious. So Momus never walks; he waddles, and they laugh at that. It is serious to stand straight. So he is always knock-kneed and bandy-legged, and they laugh like anything. And, as they never grow old, jokes never grow old to them and they never ask for new ones. So this is always Momus's welcome cry when he comes to make them laugh ... MOMUS. Yes ... here we are again. CHARON. And in a nice state. MOMUS. Almost almighty Mercury, take me with you. I know why Psyche went ... she was as bored as I am. I can help you find her. For if she's up to mischief, I shall soon know where she is. [Though he looks very, very funny as he pleads, Mercury shakes his head. Don't go thinking because you're so clever, you can do better without a fool like me. Saturday afternoon it is. If, when Jupiter starts work on Monday, there's no one to draw the corks of the bottled lightning ... look out for trouble. Come along, too, Charon. CHARON. I? MOMUS. Yes, you're growing ever so dull. A week on earth will do you good ... if you're not too much of an old 'un. CHARON. I'm not an old 'un. MOMUS. You are an old 'un. [And when a thing isn't really funny, say it twice and it often sounds so. Charon is tempted. CHARON. I can't leave the boat. HIPPONAX. Oh, take me back to earth again. They'll mock at me on the other side of this hellish river ... play tricks on me ... MERCURY. Charon, give him your oar. He shall mind the boat till Monday. A final and a wholesome exercise in what he calls his philosophy, to row all day from a place he has never understood to a place he doesn't believe in. HIPPONAX. I can't row. MOMUS. You don't know what you can do till you try. You'll have more muscle by Monday. CHARON. Can you get good wine below? MERCURY. To your boat, philosopher. [What is a blind man to question the voice of a god? He turns to the hated river, tapping the ground with his pole. Now comes a joke, one of the very oldest. MOMUS. One moment. HIPPONAX. [As he turns back, hopeful of respite.] What is it? MOMUS. How far would you have got if I hadn't called you back? [Mercury hardly smiles. But Charon is abandoned to mirth. He slaps his old knees with his hands. CHARON. He's a funny fellow. HIPPONAX. Dull clown! [And he starts again. But there's another joke he must be part of, just as old and just as silly. MOMUS. No, no! Turn to the right, and to the right. Still to the right. And again to the right. That's right.