Still, with his pain a joy—“My Cape, my name!”
For Death is ne’er so dead as to be dead to Fame!
Farewell to him. Æneas, with his Guide,
Approached, not unobserved, the black stream’s side
Charon was on the watch as they pursued
Their way along the sad and silent wood.
Scarcely had they emerged when he began
To scold, and Æneas first: “Halt, armed man,
Whoever thou art! No step further! Why
Wouldest thou cross? For ghosts alone I ply