University of Virginia Library

Scene Second

Barrière d'Enfer, and Entrance to the Champs Elysées, but not à la mode de Paris.
A knocking at the gate—Cerberus in his Porter's Lodge.
Cer.
Open locks, whoever knocks.

(pulls a cordon and the gate opens, disclosing the banks of the Styx and Charon's ferry-boat)
Enter Charon.
Char.
How now?
Why, Cerberus! you've found a tongue I vow,
And can say something more than “bow—wow—wow!”

Cer.
Ay, thanks to Orpheus, I've three tongues found.

Char.
One of 'em talks dog-Latin, I'll be bound.
But wherefore Orpheus thank? Responde cur?

Cer.
Why, ere he came and made this mighty stir,
I was a three thick wooden-headed dog,
With but a bark like any other log.
Now as I am described—and by no dunce—
I really feel “three gentlemen at once!”
And ever since I heard him play and sing,
I've sat and warbled, sir, like anything.

Char.
You mean you've howled some doggrel to the moon.

Cer.
No, sir; I say I sing—and sing in tune!

Char.
A bark-a-role of course.

Cer.
No, sir, a glee.

Char.
You take the treble, then?

Cer.
I take all three.
My voice is tenor—counter-tenor—bass.

Char.
Let's try a quartette then, if that's the case.

Cer.
With you, forsooth?

Char.
Oblige me by beginning one—
I've seen a dancing dog, but never heard a singing one!

Quartette—Cerberus and Charon—“Begone dull care.”
Cer.
Begone, dull Charon! pry'thee begone from me!
Thou'rt too dull, Charon, ever to sing a glee.
Long time thou hast been ferrying here,
And souls from far dost bring;
But thou know'st, dull Charon,
Little of sol-fa-ing.
I range with care through all the keys—
My compass—octaves three!
My voice can rove from A above,
Down, down to double D.

Char.
Begone dull cur! shall such a land-lubber as thee,
Pretend, dull cur! to talk of a compass to me?
I'm the son of Nox,
And a compass could box,
When thou wert a blind puppy.
So avast, dull cur! I'm a vast deal 'cuter than thee.
For I will bet my crazy bark
Against your own crack'd three,
That no one can go to the D—below,
If I didn't go to C.

Enter Orpheus, preceded by an Imp, with a link.
Imp.
This way, your honour—here are the old stairs.

Orph.
A boat there, Charon!

Char.
Sculls or oars?

Orph.
Who cares?
Your sculls are thickest—there's less fear of breaking.

Cer.
Is he so soon our gloomy realms forsaking?

Char.
(to Imp)
Go get her out there.
(to Orpheus)
Over did you say?

Orph.
Back to the stairs you brought me from to-day.

Char.
And for the same fare? Nothing but a song?
I shall get rich if this game lasts for long.

Orph.
No—here's a fairer—come, don't look so blue,
You've crossed the Styx till you're as cross as two.
I say, old fellow, just look o'er my shoulder,
And say if my fair comes—as Pluto told her.

Char.
Yes—there she is—and Pluto close beside her,
Whispering soft nonsense.

Orph.
Is he? Woe betide her,
If to his suit she listens! Does she smile?

Char.
Yes, and her hand he squeezes all the while.

Orph.
He does! confusion! Come, jump in your boat,
I shall look back now, ere I get afloat!

Enter Pluto and Eurydice.
Plu.
My hopes at every step are growing fainter—
She'll let me go when he lets go the painter.

Orph.
Eurydice—too long you linger there—

Eury.
I come!

Plu.
Farewell, thou fairest of the fair—
One kiss at parting.

Eury.
Oh, for shame, sir! Fie!
Remember, sir, my husband is close by.

Imp.
(to Orpheus)
Lord bless your honour, dont forget poor Jack!

(Pluto kisses Eurydice)
Orph.
Eh—what was that? I heard an amorous smack—Eurydice!

(turns quickly)
Plu.
Hurrah! he has looked back!
Forward, my Furies! do your work, ye Fates!
And thrust the Thracian thrummer through the gates!

Enter Furies and Fates.
Trio—Air—“Cruda Sorte.”
Eury.
Cruel Fortune!

Plu.
Fairly caught, sir!

Orph.
Cruel Fortune!

Plu.
Just as I thought, sir!

All.
Break your/my lute, for all is o'er!

Plu.
You have looked back—in my snare you are caught, sir—
They who cheat me, faith, have none to cheat more;
To a fine market your pigs you have brought, sir!
The world is before you and so is the door!

Orph.
I have looked back—in your snare I am caught, sir—
Pluto, thou'st cut a fond pair to the core!
Oh, have I come all this way to be taught, sir,
That folks who would thrive must keep looking before?

Eury.
You have looked back—in the snare you are caught, sir—
They who cheat him, faith, have none to cheat more!
A man of the world—have you yet to be taught, sir,
When your wife flirts behind you to look straight before?

Exeunt Eurydice and Infernals—Orpheus is forced off.