aut tu, si qua via est, si quam tibi diva creatrix ostend—neque enim, credo, sine numine divom flumina tanta paras Stygiamque innare paludm—da dextram misero, et tecum me tolle per undas, sedibus ut saltem placidis in morte quiescm.

Or you, if there is a way, if that creator goddess shows you, because I believe without divine will you can’t swim across the Stygian swamp, give me your right hand! Take a suffering one with you across the waves, so that at least in death I’ll have a peaceful place.

I know Aeneas isn’t a sociopath; he’s not that diabolical. He’s clueless. Maybe that trait makes us sympathetic for him, the way we might want to reason with Othello or Macbeth. This is Palinurus (remember him) calling out to Aeneas. He’s lobbying him, “Hey man, you’re destined; help me out!” I’m distracted myself. There are many asking me da dextrum. Why should I? I’ve got this pasta in front of me. And Paulinuri nomen habebit. He’s happy having things named after himself. When we reach out to help someone, even someone that is worthy of that help, we risk ourselves.

Sixth Day: Tree of Dreams

Eighth Day: Oh Boy, Here We Go.