441When you have been carried there and reach the city of Cumae, and the sacred lakes, and Avernus loud with forests, you will see the frenzied prophetess, who beneath a deep rock sings the fates and entrusts signs and names to leaves. 445Whatever verses the maiden has written on the leaves, she arranges in order and leaves shut away in the cave. 447They stay unmoved in their places and do not leave their order; 448but when the hinge turns and a light breeze has stirred them, and the door has scattered the delicate leaves, she never afterwards cares to catch them as they flutter in the hollow rock, nor to restore their positions or join the verses: men go away without counsel and hate the seat of the Sibyl.
453Here let no cost of delay seem so great to you — though your comrades chide, and your voyage calls your sails powerfully to the deep, and you could fill their folds with favouring winds — that you do not approach the prophetess and with prayers ask that she herself chant the oracles, and willingly unloose her voice and lips. 458She will unfold to you the peoples of Italy and the wars to come, and how you may flee or bear each hardship, and, if revered, will grant you a favourable course. 461These are the things of which my voice may warn you. 462Go then, and by your deeds raise great Troy to the heavens.'