Aeneas miratus enim motusque tumultu dic, ait, o virgo, quid vult concursus ad amnem? quidve petunt animae? vel quo discrimine ripas hae linquunt, illae remis vada livida verrunt? olli sic breviter fata est longaeva sacerdos: Anchisa generate, deum certissima proles, Cocyti stagna alta vides Stygiamque paludem, di cuius iurare timent et fallere numen.
Then aroused and amazed by the disorder, Aeneas cries: Tell me, maiden, what means the crowding to the river? What seek the spirits? By what rule do these leave the banks, and those sweep the lurid stream with oars? To him thus briefly spoke the aged priestess: Anchises son, true offspring of gods, you are looking at the deep pools of Cocytus and the Stygian marsh, by whose power the gods fear to swear falsely.