At length prophetess and prince are
landed unscathed on the ugly ooze and livid sedge.
landed unscathed on the ugly ooze and livid sedge.
Virgil - Aeneid
Shalt thou without burial behold the Stygian
waters and the awful river of the Furies? Cease to hope prayers may bend
the decrees of heaven. But take my words to thy memory, for comfort in
thy woeful case: far and wide shall the bordering cities be driven by
celestial portents to appease thy dust; they shall rear a tomb, and pay
the tomb a yearly offering, and for evermore shall the place keep
Palinurus' name. ' The words soothed away his distress, and for a while
drove grief away from his sorrowing heart; he is glad in the land of his
name.
So they complete their journey's beginning, and draw nigh the river.
Just then the waterman descried them from the Stygian wave advancing
through the silent woodland and turning their feet towards the bank, and
opens on them in these words of challenge: 'Whoso thou art who marchest
in arms towards our river, forth and say, there as thou art, why thou
comest, and stay thine advance. This is the land of Shadows, of Sleep,
and slumberous Night; no living body may the Stygian hull convey. Nor
truly had I joy of taking Alcides on the lake for passenger, nor Theseus
and Pirithous, born of gods though they were and unconquered in might.
He laid fettering hand on the warder of Tartarus, and dragged him
cowering from the throne of my lord the King; they essayed to ravish our
mistress from the bridal chamber of Dis. ' Thereto the Amphrysian
soothsayer made brief reply: 'No such plot is here; be not moved; nor do
our weapons offer violence; the huge gatekeeper may bark on for ever in
his cavern and affright the bloodless ghosts; Proserpine may keep her
honour within her uncle's gates. Aeneas of Troy, renowned [404-437]in
goodness as in arms, goes down to meet his father in the deep shades of
Erebus. If the sight of such affection stirs thee in nowise, yet this
bough' (she discovers the bough hidden in her raiment) 'thou must know. '
Then his heaving breast allays its anger, and he says no more; but
marvelling at the awful gift, the fated rod so long unseen, he steers in
his dusky vessel and draws to shore. Next he routs out the souls that
sate on the long benches, and clears the thwarts, while he takes mighty
Aeneas on board. The galley groaned under the weight in all her seams,
and the marsh-water leaked fast in.
At length prophetess and prince are
landed unscathed on the ugly ooze and livid sedge.
This realm rings with the triple-throated baying of vast Cerberus,
couched huge in the cavern opposite; to whom the prophetess, seeing the
serpents already bristling up on his neck, throws a cake made slumberous
with honey and drugged grain. He, with threefold jaws gaping in ravenous
hunger, catches it when thrown, and sinks to earth with monstrous body
outstretched, and sprawling huge over all his den. The warder
overwhelmed, Aeneas makes entrance, and quickly issues from the bank of
the irremeable wave.
Immediately wailing voices are loud in their ears, the souls of babies
crying on the doorway sill, whom, torn from the breast and portionless
in life's sweetness, a dark day cut off and drowned in bitter death.
Hard by them are those condemned to death on false accusation. Neither
indeed are these dwellings assigned without lot and judgment; Minos
presides and shakes the urn; he summons a council of the silent people,
and inquires of their lives and charges. Next in order have these
mourners their place whose own innocent hands dealt them death, who
flung away their souls in hatred of the day. How fain were they now in
upper air to endure their poverty and [438-472]sore travail! It may not
be; the unlovely pool locks them in her gloomy wave, and Styx pours her
ninefold barrier between. And not far from here are shewn stretching on
every side the Wailing Fields; so they call them by name. Here they whom
pitiless love hath wasted in cruel decay hide among untrodden ways,
shrouded in embosoming myrtle thickets; not death itself ends their
distresses. In this region he discerns Phaedra and Procris and woeful
Eriphyle, shewing on her the wounds of her merciless son, and Evadne and
Pasiphae; Laodamia goes in their company, and she who was once Caeneus
and a man, now woman, and again returned by fate into her shape of old.
Among whom Dido the Phoenician, fresh from her death-wound, wandered in
the vast forest; by her the Trojan hero stood, and knew the dim form
through the darkness, even as the moon at the month's beginning to him
who sees or thinks he sees her rising through the vapours; he let tears
fall, and spoke to her lovingly and sweet:
'Alas, Dido! so the news was true that reached me; thou didst perish,
and the sword sealed thy doom! Ah me, was I cause of thy death?
waters and the awful river of the Furies? Cease to hope prayers may bend
the decrees of heaven. But take my words to thy memory, for comfort in
thy woeful case: far and wide shall the bordering cities be driven by
celestial portents to appease thy dust; they shall rear a tomb, and pay
the tomb a yearly offering, and for evermore shall the place keep
Palinurus' name. ' The words soothed away his distress, and for a while
drove grief away from his sorrowing heart; he is glad in the land of his
name.
So they complete their journey's beginning, and draw nigh the river.
Just then the waterman descried them from the Stygian wave advancing
through the silent woodland and turning their feet towards the bank, and
opens on them in these words of challenge: 'Whoso thou art who marchest
in arms towards our river, forth and say, there as thou art, why thou
comest, and stay thine advance. This is the land of Shadows, of Sleep,
and slumberous Night; no living body may the Stygian hull convey. Nor
truly had I joy of taking Alcides on the lake for passenger, nor Theseus
and Pirithous, born of gods though they were and unconquered in might.
He laid fettering hand on the warder of Tartarus, and dragged him
cowering from the throne of my lord the King; they essayed to ravish our
mistress from the bridal chamber of Dis. ' Thereto the Amphrysian
soothsayer made brief reply: 'No such plot is here; be not moved; nor do
our weapons offer violence; the huge gatekeeper may bark on for ever in
his cavern and affright the bloodless ghosts; Proserpine may keep her
honour within her uncle's gates. Aeneas of Troy, renowned [404-437]in
goodness as in arms, goes down to meet his father in the deep shades of
Erebus. If the sight of such affection stirs thee in nowise, yet this
bough' (she discovers the bough hidden in her raiment) 'thou must know. '
Then his heaving breast allays its anger, and he says no more; but
marvelling at the awful gift, the fated rod so long unseen, he steers in
his dusky vessel and draws to shore. Next he routs out the souls that
sate on the long benches, and clears the thwarts, while he takes mighty
Aeneas on board. The galley groaned under the weight in all her seams,
and the marsh-water leaked fast in.
At length prophetess and prince are
landed unscathed on the ugly ooze and livid sedge.
This realm rings with the triple-throated baying of vast Cerberus,
couched huge in the cavern opposite; to whom the prophetess, seeing the
serpents already bristling up on his neck, throws a cake made slumberous
with honey and drugged grain. He, with threefold jaws gaping in ravenous
hunger, catches it when thrown, and sinks to earth with monstrous body
outstretched, and sprawling huge over all his den. The warder
overwhelmed, Aeneas makes entrance, and quickly issues from the bank of
the irremeable wave.
Immediately wailing voices are loud in their ears, the souls of babies
crying on the doorway sill, whom, torn from the breast and portionless
in life's sweetness, a dark day cut off and drowned in bitter death.
Hard by them are those condemned to death on false accusation. Neither
indeed are these dwellings assigned without lot and judgment; Minos
presides and shakes the urn; he summons a council of the silent people,
and inquires of their lives and charges. Next in order have these
mourners their place whose own innocent hands dealt them death, who
flung away their souls in hatred of the day. How fain were they now in
upper air to endure their poverty and [438-472]sore travail! It may not
be; the unlovely pool locks them in her gloomy wave, and Styx pours her
ninefold barrier between. And not far from here are shewn stretching on
every side the Wailing Fields; so they call them by name. Here they whom
pitiless love hath wasted in cruel decay hide among untrodden ways,
shrouded in embosoming myrtle thickets; not death itself ends their
distresses. In this region he discerns Phaedra and Procris and woeful
Eriphyle, shewing on her the wounds of her merciless son, and Evadne and
Pasiphae; Laodamia goes in their company, and she who was once Caeneus
and a man, now woman, and again returned by fate into her shape of old.
Among whom Dido the Phoenician, fresh from her death-wound, wandered in
the vast forest; by her the Trojan hero stood, and knew the dim form
through the darkness, even as the moon at the month's beginning to him
who sees or thinks he sees her rising through the vapours; he let tears
fall, and spoke to her lovingly and sweet:
'Alas, Dido! so the news was true that reached me; thou didst perish,
and the sword sealed thy doom! Ah me, was I cause of thy death?
