last his soul might find rest.  The Sibyl, however, rebuked him for expressing so impious a desire, and for hoping that the fixed decrees of the Gods could be violated for the benefit of one insignificant mortal.  But by way of consolation she informed him that the people of the country where he had met with his death, compelled by terrible plagues sent by Jupiter, would offer solemn atonement to his remains, erect a tomb to his memory, and give his name to the place where it stood.

AEneas and the Sibyl now advanced toward the river; but when Charon saw them approaching, he called out, “Whoever thou mayest be that art now coming armed and in life to our rivers, say quickly on what errand thou art coming.  This is the region of ghosts and death; to waft over the bodies of the living in my boat is not permitted.  Nor was it joyful to me to receive Hercules when he came, nor Theseus and Pirithous, though they were descendants of the Gods and unconquerable in war.  Hercules dared to bind in chains Cerberus himself, the keeper of the gate of Tartarus, and dragged him trembling from the very throne of Pluto.  The others attempted a feat scarcely less perilous, for they sought to carry off our queen Proserpine.”

“Be not disturbed,” answered the Sibyl; “we at least meditate no such plots, nor does this mortal bring with him his arms for any purpose of violence.  He is AEneas of Troy, illustrious for piety and skill in arms, and he penetrates these gloomy abodes to have converse with his father Anchises.  If your compassion is not moved by his filial devotion, at least pay regard to this branch.”  And so saying, she produced the golden bough.  The surly ferryman, though filled with rage at being forced to obey, was at once silenced.  He brought his boat to the bank, and silently received into it AEneas and his companion, driving back the ghosts that at the same time eagerly strove to enter the vessel.  It was old and leaky, and sank deep in the black flood under the unaccustomed weight of living mortals; but Charon ferried them safely across, and landed them on the farther side, where, in a huge den at the gate of the infernal regions, lay Cerberus, the terrible three-headed dog which was the guardian of the place—­a ferocious brute which only Hercules among living men had been able to subdue.  When AEneas approached he opened his huge jaws and made all Hades resound with his barking; but the Sibyl threw to him a medicated cake, which he at once devoured, and was thereby lulled into profound sleep.  The way was now safe; the Trojan chief and his companion passed quickly through the open gate, and entered the dread region where Minos and his fellow judges pronounced on the fate of each ghost that came before them.