The Sibyl of Cumae

Required: Improvisation around this material in response to questions, such as ‘Who are you?’,
‘Why are you here?’, ‘What have you got to do with the underworld?’, ‘Why choose to be in Dark
Arches, of all the places in Leeds to be?’, ‘What do you want?’, ‘Why do you want to die?’, ‘What
was Aeneas like?’, ‘What do we need to watch out for in the Underworld?’, ‘How do we get the
Ferryman to take us across the River Styx, when we are not dead?’ etc.

The Sibyl will be located near the bridge in Dark Arches – Charon (whom she knows well - it may
be helpful to read his source material too for a fuller picture of his character.) will be on the bridge
– and she will interact with passers by as an Underworld Guide (providing maps) and a prophetess
(providing prophecies), if asked, she should devise a way of approaching passers by before the
audition. Those coming from town are exiting the Greek/Roman Underworld, but heading deeper
into the Egyptian Underworld (ultimate destination, Temple Works), whereas those coming from
The Hop/City Inn end are entering the Greek/Roman Underworld.

The Sibyl lived in a cave on the acropolis at Cumae. She was a prophetess of Apollo and, like many
such prophetesses, had been an object of his sexual desire and had used this to gain advantages – in
her case, a long life: this means she is not going to die in the foreseeable future. As Hecate’s
guardian of the Forest of Avernus with its Entrance to the Underworld the Sibyl knows the way into
the Underworld – where she actually longs to go as a shade – and the safe paths through it and back
to the upper world. This means that she was able to act as a guide to Underworld for Aeneas.
She also gives prophecies written on palm leaves to suppliants.

The Temple of Apollo at Cumae, according to Virgil, was built by Daedalus (of Cretan labyrinth
fame) and he decorated the temple with an image of his labyrinth. There is a light maze as part of
Light Night in Dark Arches, near the town end of the bridge. The Golden Bough, passport through the
Underworld for those still living is located with Proserpine [Persephone], at the door of Pluto’s
Palace [aka the Town Hall].

Sources: Virgil Aeneid 6, Petronius, Ovid Met. 14.101-55

NB Avernus, Erebus, Dis and Orcus are all Italian names for the Underworld, more usually referred to
in Latin as Hades, you might want to use ‘Underworld’ to ‘translate’ all of them in performance. 

Ovid Met. 14.101-55

When [Aeneas] had passed these by and left the walled city of Parthenope [Naples] upon the right, he
came upon the left to the mound-tomb of the tuneful son of Aeolus and the marshy shores of Cumae,
and, entering the grotto of the long-lived sibyl, prayed that he might pass down through Avernus’
realm and see his father’s shade. The sibyl held her eyes long fixed upon the earth, then lifted them at
last and, full of mad inspiration from her god, replied: ‘Great things do you ask, you man of mighty
deeds, whose hand, by sword, whose piety, by fire, has been well-tried. But have no fear, Trojan; you
shall have your wish, and with my guidance you shall see the dwellings of Elysium and the latest
kingdom of the universe; and you shall see your dear father’s shade. There is no way denied to virtue.’
She spoke and showed him, deep in Avernal Juno’s forest, a bough gleaming with gold, and bade him
pluck it from its trunk. Aeneas obeyed; then saw grim Orcus’ possessions, and his own ancestral
shades, and the aged spirit of the great-hearted Anchises. He learned also the laws of those places, and
what perils he himself must undergo in new wars. As he retraced his weary steps on the return journey
he eased the toil with discourse with his Cumaean guide; and as he fared along the dismal road in the
dim dusk he said: ‘Whether thou art a goddess in very truth, or a maid most pleasing to the gods, to
me thou shalt always seem divine, and I shall confess that I owe my life to thee, through whose will I
have approached the world of death, have seen and have escaped in safety from that world. And for
these services, when I have returned to the upper regions, I will erect a temple to thee and there burn
incense in thine honour.’ The sibyl regarded him and, sighing deeply, said: ‘I am no goddess, nor is
any mortal worthy of the honour of the sacred incense. But, lest you mistake in ignorance, eternal,
endless life was offered me, had my virgin modesty consented to Phoebus’ love. While he still hoped
for this and sought to break my will with gifts, he said: ‘Choose what you will, maiden of Cumae, and
you shall have your choice.’ Pointing to a heap of sand, I made the foolish prayer that I might have as
many years of life as there were sand-grains in the pile; but I forgot to ask that those years might be
perpetually young. He granted me the years, and promised endless youth as well if I would yield to
love. I spurned Phoebus’ gift and am still unwedded. But now my joyous springtime of life has fled
and with tottering step weak old age is coming on, which I must long endure. While I have now spent
seven centuries of life, yet, ere my years equal the number of the sands, I still must behold three
hundred harvest-times, three hundred vintages. The time will come when length of days will shrivel
me from my full form to but a tiny thing, and my limbs, consumed by age, will shrink to a feather’s
weight. Then will I seem never to have been loved, never to have pleased the god. Phoebus himself,
perchance, will either gaze unknowing on me or will deny that he ever loved me. Even to such
changes shall I come. Though shrunk past recognition of the eye, still by my voice shall I be known,
for the fates will leave me my voice.’
While thus along the hollow way the sibyl told her story, out of the Stygian world they
emerged near the Euboean city [Cumae was founded by Greeks from Euboea].

Virgil Aeneid 6 – excerpts

…. Aeneas the True made his way to the fastness where Apollo rules enthroned on high, and to the
vast cavern beyond, which is the awful Sibyl’s own secluded place; here the Delian God breathes into
her the spirit’s visionary might, revealing things to come.
….
There is a cleft in the flank of the Euboean Rock forming a vast cavern. A hundred mouthways and a
hundred broad tunnels lead into it, and through them the Sibyl’s answer comes forth in a hundred
rushing streams of sound. They had reached the threshold when the maid cried: ‘The time to ask your
fate has come. Look, the God! The God is here!’ As she spoke these words, there, before the double
doors, suddenly her countenance and her colour changed and her hair fell into disarray. Her beast
heaved and her bursting heart was wild and mad; she appeared taller and spoke in no mortal tones, for
the God was nearer and the breath of his power was upon her. ‘Aeneas, O man of Troy,’ she cried,
‘are you still an idle laggard at your vows and prayers? For till you pray the cavern’s mighty doors
will never feel the shock and yawn open.’ She spoke, and then fell silent. The Trojans felt an icy
shudder run down their hard spines. And passionately their king prayed from his heart: ‘….And you,
most holy Prophetess, who foreknow the future, since I ask no empire which my destiny cannot
rightly claim, permit my Trojans, and their vagrant deities, the Powers and Patrons of Troy tossed
with us in storm, to find a home in Latium. There I shall inaugurate a temple all of marble for Apollo
and Trivia with festival days in Apollo’s name; and for you yourself, benign Lady, there shall also be
in my realm a noble shrine where I shall store your oracular lots, with the prophetic secrets which you
communicate to my people; and I shall choose and consecrate priests for your service. Only, pray, do
not commit your prophecies to leaves, for they might fly in disorder as playthings for the grasping
winds; I beg of you to chant in words of your own.’ He set an end to his lips’ utterance.
Meanwhile the prophetess, who ad not yet submitted to Apollo, ran furious riot in the cave, as
if in hope of casting the God’s power from her brain. Yet all the more did he torment her frantic
countenance, overmastering her wild thoughts, and crushed her and shaped her to his will. So at last,
of their own accord, the hundred tremendous orifices in the shrine swung open, and they carried
through the air the answer which the prophetess gave: ‘You who have passed safely through every
peril on the sea, but have to face still graver risk on land, your Dardans shall come to Lavinium’s
realm – concerning that you need have no fear – but they will regret their coming. I see war and all the
horrors of war. I see Tiber streaming and foaming with blood. You will find there a Simois and a
Xanthus and a camp of Greeks; a new Achilles, again a goddess’s son, already breathes in Latium;
Juno, the Trojans’ affliction, will never be far; and meanwhile you, in helpless plight, will go humbly
begging every nation and every city in Italy for aid. Again, as before, the cause of dire calamity for
Trojans will be a wedding with a foreign bride from the family of a host. Yet must you not yield to
affliction, but reply to it by going forth the more daringly along the way which your fortune permits
you. The first path to preservation which will open before you will start, where you least expect, from
a Greek city.’
Such were the words of mystery and dread which the Cumaean Sibyl spoke from her shrine;
the cavern made her voice a roar as she uttered truth wrapped in obscurity. Such was Apollo’s control
as he shook his rein till she raved and twisted the goad which he held to her brain. As soon as the
frenzy passed and the mad mouth was still, Aeneas with heroic words began to speak: Maid, no aspect
of tribulation which is new to me or unforeseen can rise before me, for I have traced my way through
all that may happen in the anticipation of my inward thought. But I can make one prayer to you. Since
it is said that here is the Entrance Gate of the Infernal King and near here the marsh in the darkness
where Acheron’s stream bends round, may I be granted this blessing, to be allowed to come within
sight of my dear father face to face; may you fling wide the holy gates and explain the way to me. On
these very shoulders I rescued him, passing through the flames and a thousand pursuing javelins, and
saved him from the thick of the foe. He went with me on my journey from sea to sea about the world
and with me endured every threat of ocean and sky, a task beyond his frail body’s powers and ill-
suited to a man’s declining years. And he it was who charged and entreated me to visit you and stand
in supplication at your gates. Lady benign, I implore you to have pity on father and son; for all things
are within your power, and not without reason did Hecate appoint you to be mistress over the Forest
of Avernus. If Orpheus could win back the wraith of his bride by trust in the music of his stringed
Thracian lyre, if Pollux could redeem his brother by dying alternately with him, and so often passing
and repassing along death’s road, and if the great Theseus too, and Hercules – but what need to
mention them? I also am descended from highest Jove.’
So he prayed, with his hands on the altar, and while he still prayed, the prophetess began to
answer: ‘Son of a Goddess, Trojan, son of Anchises, easy is the descent to Avernus. By day and night
the door to black Dis stands open. But to retrace your steps and escape to the air above – this the task,
this the toil. Some few, sons of gods, those loved by Jupiter or exalted by their own brilliant heroism
above ordinary mortals, those have been able. Along the way stand dense forests, and gliding Cocytus
holds them within black coils. Yet if so passionate and so strong is your desire to cross twice over the
River Styx, twice to see the dark halls of Hades, and if you choose to embark on this mad journey ….
you shall look on the Forests of Styx, the land which is pathless to the living.’ She spoke, pressed shut
her lips, and was silent.
….
There was a rugged cave, stupendous and yawning wide, protected by a lake of black water and the
glooming forest. Over this lake no birds could fly a straight course without harm, so poisonous the
breath which streamed up from those black jaws and rose to the vault of the sky; and that is why the
Greeks named this place ‘Aornos’ – ‘the Birdless’. Here the prophetess set in place four black
bullocks. That was her first act. Next she poured wine over their forehead, clipped the bristles growing
between their horns, and laid them, as the first taste of the offering, on the sacrificial fire; and as she
did so she cried loud to Hecate, the mighty in Heaven and in Hades. Others applied the knife to the
victims’ throats and caught the warm blood in bowls. Aeneas took his sword and smote a lamb with a
fleece as black as soot in offering to the Mother of the Eumenides and her Great Sister, and a barren
cow for Proserpine [Persephone] herself. Now he began the nocturnal altar-rite to the King of the
Styx. He laid whole carcasses of bulls on the flames and poured rich olive oil on the glowing entrails.
And, behold, soon before the first gleam of the rising sun, the ground bellowed beneath their feet, the
slopes of the forest-clad mountains began to move, and there appeared shapes like hounds howling
and just visible through the shadows; the Goddess was coming and was very near. ‘Stand clear!’ cried
the prophetess, ‘all you who are unhallowed: stand clear! Be gone from all the Grove. But you,
Aeneas, whip blade from scabbard and step forth on your way. It is now that you need courage and a
stout heart.’ Saying no more she plunged frantically down into the opened cavern, and strode
onwards. With dauntless pace Aeneas followed where she led.
….
They were walking in the darkness, with the shadows round them and night’s loneliness above
them, through Pluto’s substanceless Empire, and past its homes where there is no life within; as men
walk through a wood under a fitful moon’s ungenerous light when Jupiter has hidden the sky in shade
and a black night has stolen the colour from the world. In front of the very Entrance Hall, in the very
jaws of Hades, Grief and Resentful Care have laid their beds. Shapes terrible of aspect have their
dwelling there, pallid Diseases, Old Age forlorn, Fear, Hunger, the Counsellor of Evil, ugly Poverty,
Death, and Pain. Next is Sleep who is the brother of Death, and Joy of Sinning and, by the threshold
in front, Death’s harbinger, War. And the iron chambers of the Furies are there, and Strife the insane,
with a bloody ribbon binding her snaky hair.
In the centre is a giant and shady elm-tree, spreading branches like arms, full of years. False
Dreams, so t is often said, take the tree for their home and cling everywhere beneath its leaves. There
are besides many monstrous hybrid beasts, Centaurs stabled at the gate, Scyllas half-human, Briareus
the hundredfold, Lerna’s Beast with its horrifying hiss, and the Chimera, wrapped with flames; next
Gorgons, Harpies, and the shadowy shape of the triple-bodied Geryon. At the sight of them Aeneas,
struck by a sudden dread, drew his sword and presented its bare edge to any creature which might
approach. And had not his companion, from her better knowledge, warned him that they were
bodiless, airy, lives flitting behind an empty figment of a form, he would have charged, and to no
purpose hacked through mere shadows with his blade.
From this place starts the road which leads to Tartarean Acheron. There in the mud and murk
seethes the Abyss, enormous and engulfing, choking forth all its sludge into Cocytus. Here there is a
warden of the crossing, who watches over the river-water. He is the dreaded Charon: a ragged figure,
filthy, repulsive, with white hair copious and unkempt covering his chin, eyes which are stark points
of flame, and a dirty garment knotted and hanging from his shoulders. Charon punts his boat with his
pole or trims the sails, and so he ferries every soul on his dusty coracle, for though he is old he is a
god, and a god’s old age is tough and green. Here all the concourse of souls was hastening to the bank,
mothers and strong men, high-hearted heroes whose tasks in the body’s life were done, boys,
unmarried girls, and young sons laid on pyres before their parents’ eyes. As numerous were they as
the leaves of the forest which fall at the first chill of autumn and float down, or as the birds which
flock from ocean-deeps to the shore when the cold of the year sends them in rout across the sea, and
sets them free to fly to sunshine lands. The souls stood begging to be the first to make the crossing,
and stretched their arms out longing for the further shore. But the surly boatman accepted now these
and now those, and forced others back, not allowing them near the river-side.
Distressed by this commotion, Aeneas was perplexed indeed. ‘Tell me, Maid,’ he said, ‘What
is the meaning of this gathering at the river? What do the souls desire? And how is it decided who are
to retreat from the bank and who are to be conveyed over the leaden passage by the sweep of the
oars?’ The long-lived prophetess shortly answered him: ‘Man sired by Anchises and of descent most
surely divine, you see before you the deep pools of Cocytus and the marsh of Styx, by whose dread
power the Gods bind their oaths, and dare not break them. All this multitude which you see are the
resourceless, who had no burial. The warden over there is Charon, and these who are ferried over the
waves are buried. It is forbidden to convey them past the banks of dread and over the snarling current
before their bones have found rest in a due burial place; instead they must roam here flitting about the
river banks for a hundred years, and not until then are they accepted and find their way home to the
pools which are now their heart’s desire.’ ….
…as they approached the river the Ferryman, who, while still afloat upon the Styx, had seen them in
the distance walking through the silent wood and turning their steps towards the bank, spoke first and
spoke in reproof: ‘Whoever you are who stride in arms towards my river, come, say why you
approach. Check your pace; speak now, from where you are. This is the land of Shades, of Sleep and
Drowsy Night. It is wickedness to carry any who still live on board the boat of Styx. I even regretted
that I ever admitted Hercules to the lake when he came here, and Theseus too and Pirithous, though
they were Sons of Gods and of unvanquished might. Hercules came to steal by force Hades’ own
watchdog from under the King’s very throne, and enchain him; he dragged him forth, too, trembling.
Theseus and Pirithous had undertaken to abduct Pluto’s wife from her own wedding-chamber.’ In
reply Apollo’s prophetess answered briefly: ‘We have no such treacherous intent. These arms threaten
no violence. Forgo your alarm. Your monstrous guardian at the gate may fiercely howl in his den to
all eternity, frightening the bloodless shades. Proserpine [Persephone] may stay in fidelity behind her
husband’s door. Trojan Aeneas, illustrious for his true righteousness and for his feats of arms, travels
in quest of his father down to Erebus’ deep shades. But if the sight of his fidelity has no power to
move you, you must yet recognise this branch.’ And she showed the golden bough which had been
hidden in her garment. The storm of anger in Charon’s heart subsided and he said no more to them.
He looked in awe at the holy offering, the Wand of Destiny, which it was long since he had seen. He
turned the blue stern of his boat towards them and came near the bank. Next he hustled away the souls
who sat side by side on the long benches, opened up the gangways, and immediately admitted Aeneas,
in all his bulk, to the hull. Groaning under the weight the stitched coracle let in much marsh-water
through its leaks. They crossed the river; and Charon eventually disembarked both the prophetess and
the hero, unharmed, on ugly slime amid grey weeds.
Through that part of the kingdom gigantic Cerberus sends echoing howls from his three
throats. The monster lay in his cavern ahead of them. But the prophetess, seeing that the snakes of his
mane were beginning to bristle, threw before him a morsel which she had charged with drowsiness
from honey and drugged corn. Opening wide his three throats, the dog, being mad with hunger, seized
the offered food; and relaxing his giant back he sprawled all his length across the floor of the cave.
Now that the guardian was unconscious, Aeneas dashed to reach the cave-entrance and swiftly
escaped clear of the bank and the waves which allow no return.

…. [the Sibyl and Aeneas pass the court of Minos, where those who were condemned to die through
false accusations are retried, and the Fields of Mourning, which is the region allocated to suicides,
before going through the region allocated to those who died in battle]….

…the Sibyl, still at Aeneas’ side, addressed him with a curt warning; ‘Night falls, Aeneas; yet we
waste the hours in weeping. It is here that the way splits into two paths; one track, on the right, goes
straight to mighty Pluto’s battlements and by it we will make our journey to Elysium; and the other, to
the left, takes evil men to godless Tartarus, and, with never a pause, exacts their punishment. …. It s
forbidden for any man who is pure in heart to set foot on the threshold of wrong. But when Hecate
gave me authority over the Forest of Avernus, she conducted me through all Hades and explained the
divine punishments to me. Rhadymanthus of Knossos bears rule here, and his rule is most pitiless. He
gives hearing to every work of deceit, and censures each fault. He compels every sinner to
acknowledge each act of atonement which he has incurred in the world above, but whose performance
he has postponed, blissful in imagined concealment, until death when it was too late. Then at once
avenging Tissiphone, armed with her scourge, leaps on the guilty and whips them before her. High
over them her left hand threatens them with hideous snakes, while she calls to her ferocious sisters
[the Furies] to come in their hordes. See, the sacred gates are opening at last. They creak on their
hinges, with horror in the sound. Now you can see what manner of Guardian has her seat in the
entrance court, what awful shape watches the gateway? Inside, more savage still, a monstrous hydra,
with fifth black throats a-gape, has her seat. And finally there is Tartarus, yawning steeply downwards
to the dark twice as far as is our upward view to Olympus in the air of heaven. [she lists transgressors
and their punishments, including Sisyphus rolling his stone and Tantalus, in a banquet hall,
tantalised with food and drink, but kept from it by a Fury] But come now, hasten your walk to fulfil
your chosen duty. Let us move faster. I see the battlements which were forged in the furnaces of the
Cyclopes, and in the archway opposite to us the door at which authority commands us to dedicate our
offering [i.e. the golden bough].’ This said, they kept pace together along the dimly lighted way,
quickly crossed the space between and came near to the door. Swiftly Aeneas gained the entrance,
sprinkled himself with fresh water, and set the branch upright on the threshold before him.
When this was done their duty to the Goddess was fully discharged. And now they arrived in
the Land of Joy, the pleasant green places in the Fortunate Woods, where are the Homes of the Blest.
Here an ampler air clothes the plains with brilliant light, and always they see a sun and stars which are
theirs alone. Of these bright spirits, some were taking exercise at games together on the grass of a
field of play. or wrestling on yellow sand. Others were treading a rhythmic dance and as they danced
they sang. And there too was Orpheus the Thracian seer attired in his trailing gown, who answered
their rhythm on seven intervals of notes, striking out the melody now with fingers and now, over
again, with an ivory quill. Here was Teucer’s ancient dynasty, that family of noble beauty, high-
hearted heroes born in happier years, Ilus, Assaracus and Dardanus, the Founder of Troy. Aeneas
looked in wonder at their arms and chariots resting idle there before him. Their spears stood planted in
the ground; their horses were grazing free around the plain. For the same pleasure in chariots an arms
which they knew in life, and the same old interest in tending glossy horses, remain with them still
after they have been laid to repose in the earth. And, lo, Aeneas saw others to his right and to his left
about the grass, feasting and singing a joyful hymn of praise in their choir; they were in the midst of a
wood of scented bay-trees whence the full-flowing river Eridanus goes rolling through forest-land to
the upper world. Here dwells a band who sustained wounds while fighting for their homelands, others
who while life was theirs were priests without fault, r faithful seers whose speech never brought
Apollo shame; some who had given life an added graciousness by inventions of skill, and some who
had made others remember them by being kind. All of them wore snow-white ribbons encircling their
brows. And they all thronged round and the Sibyl spoke to them and in particular to Museaus, who
was in the centre of a very large gathering, towering by head and shoulders above the rest, and all
looked up to him: ‘Tell us, Souls in Bliss, and especially you, most gentle Poet, in which district is
Anchises, and in which part of it may he be found? For it is to find him that we have come, crossing
the great rivers of Erebus.’

…. [Aeneas meets with Anchises, who explains the workings of the underworld – including a doctrine
of reincarnation after a thousand years – and a cosmology and then shows Aeneas a pageant of future
Roman heroes and tells him details of his own future] ….

There are twin Gates of Sleep, of which one is said to be of horn, allowing an easy exit for shadows
which are true. The other is all of shining white ivory, perfectly made; but the Spirits send visions
which are false in the light of day. And Anchises having said his say now escorted his son and the
Sibyl with him on their way, and let him depart through the Gate of Ivory. …