At the bottom The Titans crawl, Earth’s oldest breed, hurled under By thunderbolts; here lie the giant twins, Aloeus’ sons, who laid their hands on heaven And tried to pull down Jove; Salmoneus here Atones for high presumption,--it was he Who aped Jove’s noise and fire, wheeling his horses Triumphant through his city in Elis, cheering And shaking the torch, and claiming divine homage, The arrogant fool, to think his brass was lightning, His horny-footed horses beat out thunder! Jove showed him what real thunder was, what lightning Spoke from immortal cloud, what whirlwind fury Came sweeping from the heaven to overtake him. Here Tityos, Earth’s giant son, lies sprawling Over nine acres, with a monstrous vulture Gnawing, with crooked beak, vitals and liver That grow as they are eaten; eternal anguish, Eternal feast. Over another hangs A rock, about to fall; and there are tables Set for a banquet, gold with royal splendor, But if a hand goes out to touch the viands, The Fury drives it back with fire and yelling. Why name them all, Pirithous, the Lapiths, Ixion? The roll of crime would take forever. Whoever, in his lifetime, hated his brother, Or struck his father down; whoever cheated A client, or was miserly--how many Of these there seem to be!--whoever went To treasonable war, or broke a promise Made to his lord, whoever perished, slain Over adultery, all these, walled in, Wait here their punishment. Seek not to know Too much about their doom. The stone is rolled, The wheel keeps turning; Theseus forever Sits in dejection; Phlegyas, accursed, Cries through the halls forever: _Being warned, Learn justice; reverence the gods!_ The man Who sold his country is here in hell; the man Who altered laws for money; and a father Who knew his daughter’s bed. All of them dared, And more than dared, achieved, unspeakable Ambitions. If I had a hundred tongues, A hundred iron throats, I could not tell The fullness of their crime and punishment.” And then she added:--“Come: resume the journey, Fulfill the mission; let us hurry onward. I see the walls the Cyclops made, the portals Under the archway, where, the orders tell us, Our tribute must be set.” They went together Through the way’s darkness, came to the doors, and halted, And at the entrance Aeneas, having sprinkled His body with fresh water, placed the bough Golden before the threshold. The will of the goddess Had been performed, the proper task completed.