_Ch_. So be it; but take care not to make the height too great for the width; or down we shall come, ladder and all, and pay our footing in the Homeric school of architecture with a cracked crown apiece. _Her_. No fear; all will be safe enough. Pass Oeta along. Now trundle Parnassus up. There; I'll go up again…. That's better! A fine view. You can come now. _Ch_. Give me a hand up, Hermes. This _is_ an erection, and no mistake! _Her_. Well, you know, you would see everything. Safety is one thing, my friend, and sight-seeing is another. Here is my hand; hang on, and keep clear of the slippery bits. There, now _you_ are up. Let us sit down; here are two peaks, one for each of us. Now take a general look round at the prospect. _Ch_. I see a vast stretch of land, and a huge lake surrounding it, and mountains, and rivers bigger than Cocytus and Pyriphlegethon; and men, tiny little things! and I suppose their dens. _Her. Dens_? Those are cities! _Ch_. I tell you what it is, Hermes; all this is no use. Here have we been shifting about Parnassus (Castalia and all complete), and Oeta, and these others, and we might have spared ourselves the trouble! _Her_. How so? _Ch_. Why, I can make nothing out up here. These cities and mountains look for all the world like a map. It is _men_ that I am after; I want to see what they do, and hear what they say. That is what I was laughing about just now, when first you met me, and asked me what the joke was. I had heard something that tickled me hugely. _Her_. And what might that be? _Ch_. One of them had been asked by a friend to dinner, I think it was, the next day. 'Depend on it,' says he, 'I'll be with you.' And before the words were out of his mouth, down came a tile—started somehow from the roof—and he was a dead man! Ha, ha, thought I, _that_ promise will never be kept. So I think I shall go down again; I want to see and hear. _Her_. Sit where you are. I will soon put that right; you shall see with the best; Homer has a charm for this too. Now, the moment I say the lines, there must be no more dull eyes; all must be clear as daylight. Don't forget! _Ch_. Say on. _Her_. See, from before thine eyes I lift the veil; So shalt thou clearly know both God and man. Well? Are the eyes any better? _Ch_. A marvellous improvement! Lynceus is blind to me. Now, the next thing I want is information. I have some questions to ask. Will you have them couched in the Homeric style, to convince you that I am not wholly unversed in his poems? _Her_. And how should you know anything of Homer? A seaman, chained to the oar!