Aeneid lines 6.1-76 (class translation)

Thus he speaks, crying, and looses the reins for the fleet and at last glides into the Euboean shores of Cumae. They turn the prows to the sea; then with tenacious tooth the anchor starts to make fast the ships and the curved vessels fringe the shore. The eager band of youths dart out onto the Italian shore; some seek the seeds of flame hidden in the veins of flint, others seize the dense homes of the beasts, the forests, and point out found rivers. But pious Aeneas seeks the citadels in which lofty Apollo rules and from there the secret places, the immense cave, of the dreadful Sibyl, in whom the Delian prophet breaths his great mind and spirit and opens the future. Now they enter into the woods of Hecate and her golden abodes.

Daedalus, as is the story, fleeing the Minoan kingdoms on swift wings having, having dared to trust himself to the sky, flew through unknown route to the icy bear, and lightly at last stood over the Chalcidian citadel. Having returned first to these lands, he dedicated the orage of his wings to you, Phoebus, and he established vast shrines. On the doors was the death of Androgeos; then the Athenians, ordered to pay the punishment, seven bodies of their sons yearly—wretched! The urn stands with the lots drawn. On the other side, Cretan land, lifted from the sea, corresponds; here is the savage love of the bull and Pasiphae, positioned secretly, and the mixed species, and the two-form offspring, the Minotaur, a monument of the unspeakable love. Here is that famous work of the house and its insoluble wandering; but indeed having pitied the great love of the queen, Daedalus himself solved the tricks and windings of the building, guiding blind steps with a thread. You also would have a great part in this work, Icarus, did grief permit. Twice he had tried to fashion in gold your misfortunes, twice the father's hands fell. But that they would have examined all at once with their eyes except Achates, already sent forward, had not spoken up and with him the priestess of Apollo and Hecate, Deiphobe, daughter of Glaucus, who says such to the king: “This moment does not demand such sites for itself now; it would be better to slaughter seven young oxen from an untouched heard and as many chosen sheep by custom.” Having spoken such (words), the priestess calls the Trojans into the lofty shrines (and the men do not delay the ordered sacrifices).

The side of a Euboiean cliff is hewn into a huge cave, where 100 wide entrances lead, 100 mouths, whence so many voices rush, the responses of the Sibyl. They had come to the threshold when the maiden says, “It is time to demand your fates; the god, behold the god!” For whom speaking such things before the entrances suddenly not her face, not one color, not arranged hair remained; but her chest heaved and her fierce heart beats in frenzy, and she seems larger nor sounding mortal, because she has been inspired by the already nearby power of the god. Do you pause in your offering, Trojan Aeneas? do you hesitate? For indeed not before the great mouths of the awe-struck cave gape. And having said such things, she became silent. An icy trembling ran through the hard bones of the Teucrians, and the king utters prayers from the bottom of his heart: 'Phoebus, [you who] have always pitied the heavy labors of the Trojans, who directed the Dardan weapons and hands of Paris against the body of Achilles, I have entered so many seas bordering great lands with you as a leader and the tribes of North Africa deeply hidden and the fields fringing Syrtis: now at last we grasp the shores of fleeing Italy, may Trojan luck have followed me only as far as this. It is right also for all you gods and goddesses, in whose way Ilium and the huge glory of Dardanus now stands, to spare the race of Pergama. And you, o most sacred prophetess, knowing what will come, give that (I beg by my fates for my not undue kingdom) the Teucri settle in Latium and their wandering gods and the agitated divine powers of Troy. Then I shall establish for Phoebus and Hecate a temple of solid marble and festival days in the name of Phoebus. Great sanctuaries will also remain for you in our kingdom: for here also I will place your oracles and the secret fates spoken for my race, and I will make sacred chosen men, kindly one. Only do not trust your verses to the leaves, lest the confused mockeries fly with the swift winds: I beg that you yourself sing [them].” He gave the end of speaking with his mouth.