Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- The twain continue now their destined way
- Unto the river's edge. The Ferryman,
- Who watched them through still groves approach his shore,
- Hailed them, at distance, from the Stygian wave,
- And with reproachful summons thus began:
- “Whoe'er thou art that in this warrior guise
- Unto my river comest,—quickly tell
- Thine errand! Stay thee where thou standest now!
- This is ghosts' land, for sleep and slumbrous dark.
- That flesh and blood my Stygian ship should bear
- Were lawless wrong. Unwillingly I took
- Alcides, Theseus, and Pirithous,
- Though sons of gods, too mighty to be quelled.
- One bound in chains yon warder of Hell's door,
- And dragged him trembling from our monarch's throne:
- The others, impious, would steal away
- Out of her bride-bed Pluto's ravished Queen.”
- Briefly th' Amphrysian priestess made reply:
- “Not ours, such guile: Fear not! This warrior's arms
- Are innocent. Let Cerberus from his cave
- Bay ceaselessly, the bloodless shades to scare;
- Let Proserpine immaculately keep
- The house and honor of her kinsman King.
- Trojan Aeneas, famed for faithful prayer
- And victory in arms, descends to seek
- His father in this gloomy deep of death.
- If loyal goodness move not such as thee,
- This branch at least” (she drew it from her breast)
- “Thou knowest well.”
- Then cooled his wrathful heart;
- With silent lips he looked and wondering eyes
- Upon that fateful, venerable wand,
- Seen only once an age. Shoreward he turned,
- And pushed their way his boat of leaden hue.
- The rows of crouching ghosts along the thwarts
- He scattered, cleared a passage, and gave room
- To great Aeneas. The light shallop groaned
- Beneath his weight, and, straining at each seam,
- Took in the foul flood with unstinted flow.
- At last the hero and his priestess-guide
- Came safe across the river, and were moored
- 'mid sea-green sedges in the formless mire.