Open, open, we beseech you!” […] Their surprise and horror were unbounded, however, when a voice exclaimed, “Depart from hence with veiled heads, and cast your mothers’ bones behind you!” […] not knowing whom you fly; No ill-bred swain, nor rustic clown, am I.” […] said the angry sire, While his eyes flashed volumes of fury and fire, ‘To prove your reviler an infamous liar, I swear I will grant you whate’er you desire!’” […] “To the shades you go a down-hill, easy way; But to return and re-enjoy the day, This is a work, a labour!”