The Styx, river of hate, tumbles from cliffs and past a thorny shore. This river, central to the oaths of the Gods, offers no comfort to the souls of the dead. On its shore stalk the Erinyes, visiting justice upon criminal souls.
"There is a dropping path in twilight gloom of deadly yews; it leads through silent slopes down to the Underworld, where sluggish Styx exhales her misty vapours. By that path new ghosts, the duly buried dead, descend." Ovid, Metamorphoses 4. 433
"That unlovely fen with its glooming water corrals them there, the nine rings of Styx corral them in." Virgil, Aeneid 6. 439 ff
"Once is enough to have beheld the unlovely realm of Hell, once to have gone across the stream of Styx." Ovid, Metamorphoses 14. 593