[69] and the promontory of Minerva, and the hills ennobled with
the Surrentine[70] vines, and the city of Hercules,[71] and Stabiae,[72]
and Parthenope made for retirement, and after it the temple of the
Cumaean Sibyl. Next, the warm springs[73] are passed by, and
Linternum,[74] that bears mastick trees; and {then} Vulturnus,[75] that
carries much sand along with its tide, and Sinuessa, that abounds with
snow-white snakes,[76] and the pestilential Minturnae,[77] and she for
whom[78] her foster-child erected the tomb, and the abode of
Antiphates,[79] and Trachas,[80] surrounded by the marsh, and the land
of Circe, and Antium,[81] with its rocky coast.

After the sailors have steered the sail-bearing ship hither (for now the
sea is aroused), the Deity unfolds his coils, and gliding with many a
fold and in vast coils, he enters the temple of his parent, that skirts
the yellow shore. The sea {now} becalmed, the {God} of Epidaurus leaves
the altars of his sire; and having enjoyed the hospitality of the Deity,
{thus} related to him, he furrows the sands of the sea-shore with the
dragging of his rattling scales, and reclining against the helm of the
ship, he places his head upon the lofty stern; until he comes to
Castrum,[82] and the sacred abodes of Lavinium, and the mouths of the
Tiber. Hither, all the people indiscriminately, a crowd both of matrons
and of men, rush to meet him; they, too, Vesta! who tend thy fires; and
with joyous shouts they welcome the God. And where the swift ship is
steered through the tide running out, altars being erected in a line,
the frankincense crackles along {the banks} on either side, and perfumes
the air with its smoke; the felled victim too, {with its blood} makes
warm the knives thrust {into it}.

And now he has entered Rome, the sovereign of the world. The serpent
rises erect, and lifts his neck that reclines against the top of the
mast, and looks around for a habitation suited for himself. {There is a
spot, where} the river flowing around, is divided into two parts; it is
called "the Island." {The river} in the direction of each side extends
its arms of equal length, the dry land {lying} in the middle. Hither,
the serpent, son of Phoebus, betakes himself from the Latian ship; and
he puts an end to the mourning, having resumed his celestial form. And
{thus} did he come, the restorer of health, to the City.

[Footnote 61: _The tripod._--Ver. 635. The tripod on which the
priestess