Harlequinade

[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.

CHARON. Now you've blinded him.

MERCURY. No blinder a worm than he was before ... denying the sun. What are you?

HIPPONAX. [Without lifting his head.] I was once ... a sort of philosopher.

MERCURY. Really! Row him across, Charon; loose him among the shades of the poets and children, and in pity they may teach him to see.

CHARON. Come along.

[He handles him with about that sort of kindness--and no more than enough of it--which you spend on a mangy cur. But th