CHARON. Stop your foolish talk, man, and stand up. Don't you see who is
with me?
HIPPONAX. There's no one with you.
[Then the voice of the god is heard. Music to us. And even to Hipponax,
now, it is as if the air round him were gently shaken.
CHARON. Take care.
MERCURY. Charon, the two obols.
[Charon, humbly saluting, takes his fee.
CHARON. If you can't see, can't you hear him?
HIPPONAX. I heard nothing.
CHARON. Give him your mask and cloak to hide the light from his eyes that
dazzles you.
HIPPONAX. Give who?
CHARON. It's Mercury, the Messenger.
[Hipponax, himself, is shaking a little now. Charon takes from him his
mask and his ragged philosopher's cloak, and, sure enough, as they hang
where he places them they seem to cover a human shape.
ALICE. And that's the beginning of Harlequin's clothes.
HIPPONAX. Nonsense. These conjuring tricks. There are no gods. I've proved
there are no...
[Mercury has lifted the mask and at sight of that radiance, as if
lightning had struck him, Hipponax falls to the ground.
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