Chorus

Executive and Witches.

Here's Charon the Sailor-man, Etc.

Mr. Nemesis.

(Rising, in a loud voice.) Scram!

(The rabble rushes out, dropping Charon with a thud on the floor.

Albert & Egberts., remain motionless on guard.)

Mr. Namesis.

So you're here!

Charon.

(Who is rather deaf) Eh?

Mr. Nemesis.

I said, so you're here?

Charon.

Yes, I would like a beer Mr. Nemesis - it is hot.

Mr. Nemesis.

(Shouting) I said, so you're here?

Charon.

(Crestfallen) Oh, well - I am, aren't I? It is rather obvious.

Mr. Nemesis.

Painfully so. Did you have a good voyage?

Charon.

Terrible Mr. Nemesis, terrible! On one occasion

I almost lost my ferry and on another - my toga.

Mr. Nemesis.

Your what?

Charon.

(Pointing to towel,) My Toga, Nice, isn't it? (Displaying it from all angles) I picked it up in a place upstaires, when I had my New Year bath. The fellow who dropped it didn't notice. But I nearly lost it - Oh, it was so lowering to my dignity!

Mr. Nemesis.

It is rather risky.

Charon.

Yes Mr. Nemesis, I would like a whiskey.

Mr. Nemesis.

(Louder) I said risky.

Charon.

(Sadly) Oh you did say risky didn't you?

Mr Nemesis.

(Thundering) Yes! But - Have you brought any souls?

Charon.

We'll corns to that in a minute. When you sent me upstaires, I took my abode in a castle overlooking the sea - Dam- page break nation castle : I called it.

Mr. Nemesis.

Sounds a pleasant spot.

Charon.

Well Mr. Nemesis, I would like a spot. (Long cause, during which Charon Cazes longingly at Mr, Nemesis, then shrugs hopelessly and proceeds.) I made only one friend - my Daisy.

Mr. Nemesis.

Your Daisy?

Charon.

She is a bull, Mr. Nemesis, a bull of massive and ungainly proportions, but my bull's a lamb, Mr. Nemesis, he's as harmless as a mouse. Though I'm afraid the magistrate didn't thihk so. That Magistrate!

Mr. Nemesis.

Daisy is a funny name for a bull isn't it?

Charon.

Ah - But Daisy is a funny bull. (Casually) I've brought her down here.

Mr. Nemesis.

You've What?

(A loud bellowing is heard outside)

Charon.

That's him. Isn't she a loving little thing? (Looking out) I'm afraid he's going to have a fight with Cerberus in a minute.

Mr. Nemesis.

(With dangerous calm) Captain Charon, can you drag your thoughts away from your bovine acquaintance for a moment and answer me one question? If not, your bull will soon be Bovril.

Charon.

(Proceeding unperturbed) By the way, I've renamed my boat. I now call it the "Sic Transit". Rather apt isn't it ? But to proceed. I have a cargo.

Mr. Nemesis.

That's the spirit.

Charon.

(Eagerly) Where is the spirit, Mr. Nemesis? I have not seen any yet.

Mr. Nemesis.

I'm sitting on a bottle of the best in Dulce Domum at the moment, but I'm not to take it from under my -er- control until I know.......

Charon.

I have a cargo of the finest souls since Nero's day on board. Queer people - they didn't like Daisy a bit. Daisy is my bull you know - Did I tell you about her?

(In desperation Mr Nemesis obtains the bottle from under the seat and hands it to Charon. While Mr. Nemesis is getting the glass, Charon removes the cork with his teeth, spits it out page break into Albert's face, and rains the bottle with incredible rapidity. Mr. Nemesis turns round with the glass, and looks at the empty bottle; his jaw drops in amazement, Charon passes him the bottle.

(Mr Nemesis raises the bottle on high ready to smite Charon but pauses as a noise is heard off. Several members of the Executive push on a large packing case right, with a huge label attached, reading Mr Nemisis, Dulce Domum, Agile, With Care.")

Mr. Nemesis.

At last! Scram everyone! I'll deal with this myself

Albert and Egbert noislessly disappear centre, and the others exit right. Charon, seeing that Mr. Nemesis is busy inspecting the packing case, creeps up to the throne, falls on his hands and knees beside it, fishes out a large bottle, waves it with a triumphant air at Mr. Nemesis' back, and scurries out on all fours. A moment later, the bull bellows joyously off. Mr. Nemesis having inspected the packing case, suddenly gets an idea. He smiles wickedly and produces a pair of horn-rimmed glasses from the air, puts them on, and sits in a studious manner at the tabls left, and appears to be writing busily. The orchestra commences playing softly, and a muffled chorus comes from within the packing case,)