Portitor has horrendus aquas et flumina servat        

terribili squalore Charon, cui plurima mento  

canities inculta jacet, stant lumina flamma,  

sordidus ex umeris nodo dependet amictus  



Ibant obscuri sola sub nocte per umbram         

perque domos Ditis vacuas et inania regna  

quale per incertam lunam sub luce maligna  

est eiter in silvis, ubi caelum condidit umbra  

Juppiter, et rebus nox abstulit atra colorem  



"Sic demum lucos Stygis et regna invia vivis aspicies..."         

"Anchisa generate deum certissimia proles,            

Cocyti stagna alta vides Stygiamque paludem.  

di cujus jurare timent et fallere numen."  



Nec plura his. Ille admirans venerabile donum         

fatalis virgae longo post tempore visum  

caeruleam advertit puppim ripaeque propinquat.  



Watching over these waves and streams of filth is the  

horrible ferryman Charon, on whose chin countless unkept  

grey hairs lie outspread; his eyes endure in flame, and   

a squalid cloak hangs knotted from his shoulders.  



Beneath lonely darkness the gloomy travellers go through shadow  

and through the deserted abodes and ghostly kingdom of Dis:  

through uncertain moonlight under rays of a spiteful sort the way  

lies in the woods, where Jupiter hides the sky in shadow and  

night steals colour from the black heavens.  



"In this manner you will at last behold the sacred grove of Styx  

and the kingdom pathless to the living..."  

"Child of Anchises, most certain prodigy of a god, you will see  

the deep mere of the mournful river of Hades and the swamp of  

Styx, whose divine power the gods fear to swear by and prove false."  



Nothing more was said. Wondering at the venerable offering of the  

fated branch, seen after a distant time, he turned the vessel to  

the darkness and the shores approached.