the river. Soon as the boatman saw them, at the moment,
from the wave of Styx, moving through the stilly forest,
and turning their steps to the bank, he first bespeaks
them thus, and assails them unaccosted: “You, whoever
you are, that are making for these waters of ours in warlike 35
trim, speak your errand from the spot where you
are, and come no nearer. This is the place for the shadows,
for Sleep and slumberous Night. The bodies of the living
may not be ferried in my Stygian barque. Nay, it was
not to my joy that I gave Alcides a passage over the lake,