‘Your Majesty is complimentary. I certainly have had a great deal of experience. My life has no doubt been a long one, but I have made it longer by never losing a moment. I was born, too, at a great crisis in affairs. Everything that took place before the Trojan war passes for nothing in the annals of wisdom. That was a great revolution in all affairs human and divine, and from that event we must now date all our knowledge. Before the Trojan war we used to talk of the rebellion of the Titans, but that business now is an old almanac. As for my powers of prophecy, believe me, that those who understand the past are very well qualified to predict the future. For my success in life, it may be principally ascribed to the observance of a simple rule--I never trust anyone, either god or man. I make an exception in favour of the goddesses, and especially of your Majesty,’ added Tiresias, who piqued himself on his gallantry. While they were thus conversing, the Queen directed the attention of Manto to a mountainous elevation which now began to rise in the distance, and which, from the rapidity of the tide and the freshness of the breeze, they approached at a swift rate. ‘Behold the Stygian mountains,’ replied Manto. ‘Through their centre runs the passage of Night which leads to the regions of Twilight.’ ‘We have, then, far to travel?’ ‘Assuredly it is no easy task to escape from the gloom of Tartarus to the sunbeams of Elysium,’ remarked Tiresias; ‘but the pleasant is generally difficult; let us be grateful that in our instance it is not, as usual, forbidden.’ ‘You say truly; I am sorry to confess how very often it appears to me that sin is enjoyment. But see! how awful are these perpendicular heights, piercing the descending vapours, with their peaks clothed with dark pines! We seem land-locked.’ But the experienced master of the infernal yacht knew well how to steer his charge through the intricate windings of the river, which here, though deep and navigable, became as wild and narrow as a mountain stream; and, as the tide no longer served them, and the wind, from their involved course, was as often against them as in their favour, the crew were obliged to have recourse to their oars, and rowed along until they arrived at the mouth of an enormous cavern, from which the rapid stream apparently issued. ‘I am frightened out of my wits,’ exclaimed Proserpine. ‘Surely this cannot be our course?’ ‘I hold, from your Majesty’s exclamation,’ said Tiresias, ‘that we have arrived at the passage of Night. When we have proceeded some hundred yards, we shall reach the adamantine portals. I pray your Majesty be not alarmed. I alone have the signet which can force these mystic gates to open. I must be stirring myself. What, ho! Manto.’ ‘Here am I, father. Hast thou the seal?’