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There are twin Gates of Sleep.

One, they say, is called the Gate of Horn

and it offers easy passage to all true shades.

The other glistens with ivory, radiant, flawless,

but through it the dead send false dreams up toward the sky.

Each of us bears his own Hell.

Now, Aeneas, is the hour for courage, now for a dauntless heart!

Be warned; learn ye to be just and not to slight the gods!

Yield not to misfortunes, but advance all the more boldly against them.

Cease to think that the decrees of the gods can be changed by prayers.

I feel once more the scars of the old flame.

A greater history opens before my eyes,

A greater task awaits me.

Do not trust the horse, Trojans.

Whatever it is, I fear the Greeks even when they bring gifts.

They can because they think they can.

Let someone arise from my bones as an Avenger.

Roman, remember by your strength to rule

Earth's people—for your arts are to be these:

To pacify, to impose the rule of law,

To spare the conquered, battle down the proud.