fetch back the shade of his wife, by the help of his Thracian lyre and its sounding strings—if Pollux redeemed his brother by dying in turn with him, and went and returned on the path those many times—why talk of Theseus, 35 why of great Alcides[210]? my line, like theirs, is from Jove most high.” Such were his prayers, while his hands clasped the altar, when thus the prophetess began: “Heir of the blood of gods, son of Anchises of Troy, easy is the going down to Avernus—all night and all day the gate of gloomy Pluto stands unbarred; but to retrace your footsteps, and win your way back to the upper air, that is the labour, that 5 the task. There have been a few, favourites of gracious Jove, or exalted to heaven by the blaze of inborn worth, themselves sprung from the gods, who have had the power. The whole intervening space is possessed by woods, and lapped round by the black windings of Cocytus’[211] 10 stream. And now, if your heart’s yearning is so great, your passion so strong, twice to stem the Stygian pool, twice to gaze on the night of Tartarus—if it be your joy to give scope to a madman’s striving—hear what must first be done. Deep in the shade of a tree lurks a branch, all 15 of gold, foliage alike and limber twig, dedicated to the service of the Juno of the shades; it is shrouded by the whole labyrinth of the forest, closed in by the boskage that darkens the glens. Yet none may pierce the subterranean mystery, till a man have gathered from the tree that leafy 20 sprout of gold, for this it is that fair Proserpine has ordained to be brought her as her own proper tribute. Pluck off one, another is there unfailingly, of gold as pure, a twig burgeoning with as fine an ore. Let then your eye be keen to explore it, your hand quick to pluck it when duly 25 found, for it will follow the touch with willingness and ease, if you have a call from Fate; if not, no strength of yours will overcome it, no force of steel tear it away. But, besides this, you have the breathless corpse of a friend lying unburied—alas! you know it not—tainting 30 your whole fleet with the air of death, while you are asking Heaven’s will, and lingering on this our threshold. Him first consign to his proper place, and hide him in the grave. Lead black cattle to the altar: be this the expiation to pave your way. Thus at last you shall look on the groves 35 of Styx and the realms untrodden of the living.” She said, and closed her lips in silence.