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But, 'mid the darkened necromantic haunts
Of worse fiends than the evoked, no voice replied.
Then, moulding effigies to suit her hate,
And dropping venom in each pictured pore,
The Sybil, with dishevelled serpent locks
And Lamian features, bade the fiend of fire
Unroll the ritual of hell, and read
Revealings of the Destinies—and then,
She drank from the bann'd skullcup poison draughts,
Pledging the damned! yet Silence looked reply.

100

And each Promethean divination brought
Nor shadow nor response; the mirrored glass
Returned no image; the drowned ring sent up
No echo; whirling gusts effaced the forms
Of letters writ in ashes; magic gems
No longer kept their power; the daphne burned
Without a sound; and every poison herb,
Though with unearthly skill distilled, no more,
Like Nessus' robe and wild Medea's gift,
Dispersed the agonies of maniac deaths.
 

See Potter's Antiquities, Von Hammer, etc. for the various superstitious observances of the Greeks and Romans. In the scene of the sacrifice I have introduced evil omens—such as the Romans feared in their height of power—throughout the ceremonial.