obstrepitant lamenta choris. mors nulla vagatur 355
high festival, and the ghosts sport them at the nuptial feast. The flower-crowned Manes sit at a joyous banquet and unwonted song breaks the gloomy silence; wailing is hushed. Hell’s murk gladly disperses and suffers the darkness of age-long night to grow less impenetrable. Minos’ urn of judgement throws no ambiguous lots; the sound of blows is stilled, and Tartarus, the prison of the wicked, is hushed and still, for punishments are intermitted. No longer is Ixion tortured by the ever-turning wheel to which he is bound; from Tantalus’ lips no more is the flying water withdrawn. Ixion is freed, Tantalus reaches the stream, and Tityus at length straightens out his huge limbs and uncovers nine acres of foul ground (such was his size), and the vulture, that burrows lazily into the dark side, is dragged off from his wearied breast sore against its will, lamenting that no longer is the devoured flesh renewed for it.
The Furies, forgetful of crimes and dread wrath, make ready the wine-bowl and drink therefrom for all their snaky hair. Nay, with gentle song, their threatenings laid aside, they stretch out their snakes to the full cups and kindle the festal torches with unusual flame. Then, too, the birds flew unhurt over the now appeasèd stream of poisonous Avernus, and Lake Amsanctus checked his deadly exhalations; the stream was stayed and the whirlpool grew still. They say that then the springs of Acheron were changed and welled up with new milk, while Cocytus, enwreathed with ivy, flowed along in streams of sweet wine. Lachesis slit not the thread of life nor did funeral dirge sound in challenge to the holy chant. Death walked not
in terris, nullique rogum planxere parentes.
navita non moritur fluctu, non cuspide miles;
oppida funerei pollent inmunia leti,
impexamque senex velavit harundine frontem
portitor et vacuos egit cum carmine remos. 360