thou, thyself and thy
comrades, and let thy children abide in this pure observance. But when
at thy departure the wind hath borne thee to the Sicilian coast, and the
barred straits of Pelorus open out, steer for the left-hand country and
the long circuit of the seas on the left hand; shun the shore and water
on thy right. These lands, they say, of old broke asunder, torn and
upheaved by vast force, when either country was one and undivided; the
ocean burst in between, cutting off with its waves the Hesperian from
the Sicilian coast, and with narrow tide washes tilth and town along the
severance of shore. On the right Scylla keeps guard, on the left
unassuaged Charybdis, who thrice swallows the vast flood sheer down her
swirling gulf, and ever again hurls it upward, lashing the sky with
water. But Scylla lies prisoned in her cavern's blind recesses,
thrusting forth her mouth and drawing ships upon the rocks. In front her
face is human, and her breast fair as a maiden's to the waist down;
behind she is a sea-dragon of monstrous frame, with dolphins' tails
joined on her wolf-girt belly. Better to track the goal of Trinacrian
Pachynus, lingering and wheeling round through long spaces, than once
catch sight of misshapen Scylla deep in her dreary cavern, and of the
rocks that ring to her sea-coloured hounds. Moreover, if
[433-466]Helenus hath aught of foresight or his prophecy of assurance,
if Apollo fills his spirit with the truth, this one thing, goddess-born,
one thing for all will I foretell thee, and again and again repeat my
counsel: to great Juno's deity be thy first prayer and worship; to Juno
utter thy willing vows, and overcome thy mighty mistress with gifts and
supplications; so at last thou shalt leave Trinacria behind, and be sped
in triumph to the Italian borders. When borne hither thou drawest nigh
the Cymaean city, the haunted lakes and rustling woods of Avernus, thou
shalt behold the raving prophetess who deep in the rock chants of fate,
and marks down her words on leaves. What verses she writes down on them,
the maiden sorts into order and shuts behind her in the cave; they stay
in their places unstirred and quit not their rank. But when at the turn
of the hinge the light wind from the doorway stirs them, and disarranges
the delicate foliage, never after does she trouble to capture them as
they flutter about the hollow rock, nor restore their places or join the
verses; men depart without counsel, and hate the