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Rh his father. Deiphobè consents, but not without the solemn warning, often quoted to point a far higher moral than the heathen poet was likely to have conceived—so often, that the Latin words themselves are probably familiar even to those who profess but little Latin scholarship:—

Facilis descensus Averni;

Noctes atque dies patet atra janua Ditis;

Sed revocare gradum, superasque evadere ad auras,

Hoc opus, hic labor est."

Their terseness and pathos are not easy to reproduce in any other language, but Mr Conington has done it as well, perhaps, as it could be done:—

The journey down to the Abyss

Is prosperous and light;

The palace-gates of gloomy Dis

Stand open day and night;

But upward to retrace the way,

And pass into the light of day,—

There comes the stress of labour—this

May task a hero's might."

Few are they of mortal birth who, by the special grace of the gods, have achieved that desperate venture with success. Still, if Æneas is determined to attempt it, she will teach him the secret of the passage. Deep in the shades of the neighbouring forest there grows a tree which bears a golden bough, which he must find and carry with him into the regions of the dead; it is the gift which Proserpine, who reigns there, claims from all who enter her court.

Accompanied by his faithful Achates, Æneas enters