5But dutiful Aeneas, the funeral rites duly paid and the mound of the tomb heaped up, once the deep seas had grown calm, holds his course under sail and leaves the harbour. 8The breezes blow on into the night, and the bright Moon does not deny them passage; the sea shines beneath her trembling light. 10They skim the nearest shores of Circe's land, where the rich daughter of the Sun makes her untrodden groves ring with ceaseless song, and in her proud halls burns fragrant cedar for light by night, running the shrill comb through the fine warp. 15From here could be heard the groans and rage of lions, chafing at their chains and roaring late in the night, and bristly boars and bears raging in their pens, and shapes of huge wolves howling, men whom the cruel goddess Circe with her potent herbs had stripped of human form and clothed in the faces and bodies of beasts.
21So that the dutiful Trojans might not suffer such monstrous things, carried into the harbour, nor approach the dreadful shores, Neptune filled their sails with favouring winds, gave them escape, and bore them past the seething shallows.