_Amphitr.:_ And what of him who rules those dusky realms? Where sits he as he rules his shadowy folk? _Theseus:_ There is a place in an obscure recess Of Tartarus, which, with its heavy shades, 710 Dense vapor shrouds. Hence, from a single source, Two different rivers flow: with silent stream One bears along the sacred Stygian waves On which the gods take oath; with mighty roar The other fiercely rolls the rocks along Within its flood, the raging Acheron, 715 Which may not be recrossed. Set opposite, By these two streams encircled, stands the hall Of royal Dis; and by a shading grove The mighty house is hid. A spacious cave Of overhanging rock the threshold forms. This is the path of souls; here is the door 720 Of Pluto's realm; and, round about, there spreads The plain wherein the frowning monarch sits And new-come souls reviews. Of lowering brow And awful majesty the god appears; Yet in his face his brother's likeness bears, And proves his noble birth. Jove's face is his, But thundering Jove's. And of that savage realm 725 The master's self makes up the largest part, For every fearful thing holds him in fear. _Amphitr.:_ And is the story true that down below Stern justice is at last administered, And guilty souls, who have their crimes forgot, At last atone for sin? Who is he, then, 730 Who searches out the truth, and justice gives? _Theseus:_ There is not one inquisitor alone Who sits in judgment on the lofty seat, And tries the trembling culprits: in that hall Sit Cretan Minos, Rhadamanthus too, And Aeacus. Each for his sins of earth 735 Must suffer here; the crime returns to him Who did it, and the guilty soul is crushed By its own precedents. There, deep immured In prison, bloody leaders have I seen, And bleeding backs of heartless tyrants, scourged By base plebeian hands. Who mildly reigns, And, though the lord of life, restrains his hands; 740 Who mercifully rules a bloodless realm, And spares the lives of men: he shall enjoy Long years of happy life, and, at the end, Attain to heaven, or to those regions blest Of the Elysian fields, himself a judge. Refrain from human blood, all ye who rule: 745 Your sins with heavier judgment shall be judged. _Amphitr.:_ Does any certain place inclose the lost, And do, as rumor says, the impious Sharp punishments in endless chains endure?