The Aeneid (3 page)
Virgil ends this book, as he did Book 1, on a sad note: an account of a plague that struck cattle in the northern region of the Alps, in which he draws much from Lucretius’ portrayal of the plague that struck humans in the Athens of Pericles, described in exact detail by Thucydides.
In his introduction to Book 4, about bee-keeping, Virgil assures Maecenas that he will describe
. . . a world in miniature,
Gallant commanders and the institutions
Of a whole nation, its character, pursuits,
Communities and warfare.(4.3-5)
And this theme, of the hive as a community, in harmony or dissension, is a constant in the book.
A great deal of misinformation about bees is conveyed to the reader. Bees were not properly observed in the hive until the invention of the glass observation hive, and until the seventeenth century it was believed that the leader of the hive was the king, not the queen. But what has made Book 4 famous is the end—the long tale of Aristaeus and his bees and of Orpheus and Eurydice.
Virgil first describes the process of
bougonia
(the Greek word means something like “birth from a steer”), for re-creating the hive of bees in case the original bees die. A two-year-old steer is brought to a specially constructed hut that has windows facing in all four directions. The animal is then beaten to death and the remains left in place through the spring. Suddenly, in the rotting flesh a whole cluster of bees is born. This is not true, but it was widely believed in the ancient world (except by Aristotle) and appears also in the riddle Samson asked the Philistines to answer: “out of the strong came forth sweetness” (Judges 14:14).
bougonia
(the Greek word means something like “birth from a steer”), for re-creating the hive of bees in case the original bees die. A two-year-old steer is brought to a specially constructed hut that has windows facing in all four directions. The animal is then beaten to death and the remains left in place through the spring. Suddenly, in the rotting flesh a whole cluster of bees is born. This is not true, but it was widely believed in the ancient world (except by Aristotle) and appears also in the riddle Samson asked the Philistines to answer: “out of the strong came forth sweetness” (Judges 14:14).
Virgil’s account of the origin of this method is told through the story of the farmer Aristaeus, whose hive of bees has died. He goes to his mother, the nymph Cyrene, and she tells him to find out what has gone wrong from Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea, who “knows / All that has been, is now, and lies in store” (4.392-93). Aristaeus must seize Proteus as he comes out of the water with his seals and hold him tightly as he changes shape, “for suddenly / He’ll be a bristly boar or a savage tiger / or a scaly serpent or a lioness” (4.407-8). But he must be held fast until he gives up and resumes his own shape, and then he will answer questions. (This scene is adapted from Menelaus’ similar interrogation of Proteus in the
Odyssey
4.428-641.)
2
Aristaeus follows directions faithfully, and finally Proteus, back in his own shape, tells Aristaeus what is wrong. “Piteous Orpheus / It is that seeks to invoke this penalty / Against you” (4.454-55). It is revenge for the death of his wife, the nymph Eurydice, who, fleeing Aristaeus’ advances, ran along the banks of a river where she was killed by a serpent. After mourning for her, Orpheus decided to seek her in the land of the dead.
Odyssey
4.428-641.)
2
Aristaeus follows directions faithfully, and finally Proteus, back in his own shape, tells Aristaeus what is wrong. “Piteous Orpheus / It is that seeks to invoke this penalty / Against you” (4.454-55). It is revenge for the death of his wife, the nymph Eurydice, who, fleeing Aristaeus’ advances, ran along the banks of a river where she was killed by a serpent. After mourning for her, Orpheus decided to seek her in the land of the dead.
And entering the gloomy grove of terror
Approached the shades and their tremendous king . . .
[Orpheus’] music shook them . . .(4.468-71)
And Virgil goes on to describe the dark kingdom and its denizens in lines that foreshadow his more detailed description of the Underworld later, in Book 6 of the
Aeneid.
Orpheus’ music wins him his Eurydice.
Aeneid.
Orpheus’ music wins him his Eurydice.
She is allowed to follow him back to the land of the living, but on condition that he does not look back at her until they reach the light of the upper world. But Orpheus,
. . . on the very brink of light, alas,
Forgetful, yielding in his will, looked back
At his own Eurydice. . . .(4.490-91)
And as she reproached him bitterly, she
. . . suddenly
Out of his sight, like smoke into thin air,
Vanished away . . .
For seven whole months on end, they say, he wept . . .
Alone in the wild . . .
And sang his tale of woe . . .(4.499-510)
And finally, wandering in Thrace in the north, he was torn to pieces by Bacchantes in their Dionysiac frenzy, his limbs were scattered far and wide, and his head was thrown into the Hebrus River. And there,
His head, now severed from his marble neck,
“Eurydice!” the voice and frozen tongue
Still called aloud, “Ah, poor Eurydice!”(4.523-26)
So Proteus departed and Aristaeus, instructed by his mother Cyrene, made sacrifices to the shade of Orpheus and to the nymphs, the sisters of Eurydice, and then left for his
bougonia
for the regeneration of his bees. And the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, in Virgil’s musical verse, has inspired poetry and song ever since.
bougonia
for the regeneration of his bees. And the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, in Virgil’s musical verse, has inspired poetry and song ever since.
In the final lines of the
Georgics,
published probably in 29 B.C., two years after the battle of Actium, which made Octavian master of the Roman world, Virgil tells us that he finished the poem at Naples (to which he gives its Greek name, Parthenope), while Octavian, soon to be given the title Augustus, was making a triumphant progress through the East.
Georgics,
published probably in 29 B.C., two years after the battle of Actium, which made Octavian master of the Roman world, Virgil tells us that he finished the poem at Naples (to which he gives its Greek name, Parthenope), while Octavian, soon to be given the title Augustus, was making a triumphant progress through the East.
This song of the husbandry of crops and beasts
And fruit-trees I was singing while great Caesar
Was thundering beside the deep Euphrates
In war, victoriously for grateful peoples
Appointing laws and setting his course for Heaven.
I, Virgil, at that time lay in the lap
Of sweet Parthenope, enjoying there
The studies of inglorious ease, who once
Dallied in pastoral verse and with youth’s boldness
Sang of you, Tityrus, lazing under a beech-tree.(4.559-66)
That last line is a quotation, slightly adapted, of the opening line of his first book, the
Eclogues.
THEEclogues.
AENEID
Near the opening of the third book of the
Georgics
Virgil speaks of what will be his next work:
Georgics
Virgil speaks of what will be his next work:
Yet soon I will gird myself to celebrate
The fiery fights of Caesar, make his name
Live in the future . . .(3.46-47)
This promise would be kept by the writing of his last and most grandly ambitious poem, the
Aeneid,
which he never finished to his full satisfaction. After reading Books 2, 4, and 6 to Augustus and Octavia and completing his work on Book 12, he decided to visit Greece in 19 B.C. and spend three years on correction and revision. But he met Augustus in Athens on Augustus’ return from the East and was persuaded to return to Italy with him. However, passing from Athens to Corinth, at Megara Virgil contracted a fever, which grew worse during the voyage to Brundisium, where he died on September 21. He was buried near Naples, and on his tomb were inscribed verses that he is said to have composed himself:
Aeneid,
which he never finished to his full satisfaction. After reading Books 2, 4, and 6 to Augustus and Octavia and completing his work on Book 12, he decided to visit Greece in 19 B.C. and spend three years on correction and revision. But he met Augustus in Athens on Augustus’ return from the East and was persuaded to return to Italy with him. However, passing from Athens to Corinth, at Megara Virgil contracted a fever, which grew worse during the voyage to Brundisium, where he died on September 21. He was buried near Naples, and on his tomb were inscribed verses that he is said to have composed himself:
Mantua me genuit, Calabri rapuere, tenet nunc
Parthenope. Cecini pascua, rura, duces.Mantova gave me life, the Calabrians took it away, Naples
holds me now; I sang of pastures, farms, and commanders.(trans. Knox)
There is a report that he had ordered his literary executors, Varius and Tucca, to destroy the unfinished manuscript; if so, these orders were immediately canceled by Augustus. Imperfections remain: some incomplete hexameters, which Virgil would certainly have tidied up, and several minor contradictions, which he would certainly have dealt with. One passage (2.702-28), which is not in the oldest manuscripts, was removed, according to the much later commentator Servius, by Varius and Tucca. (In the most recent editions of Virgil’s text, for example that of Fairclough, revised in 1999-2000 by George P. Goold, the passage is marked as spurious. Other recent commentators, however, notably R. G. Austin and R. D. Williams, consider it genuine.) The passage pictures Helen as seeking sanctuary at the shrine of Vesta, fearing the vengeance of the Trojans for the ruin she has brought on them, and Aeneas’ angry decision to kill her. This passage contradicts a long and intricate story of Helen triumphantly welcoming the Greeks and organizing the mutilation and death of Deiphobus, the Trojan whom she had married after the death of Paris (6.573-623). But however it may complicate the narrative, and however Virgil might have revised it later, one may still be impressed by its strong Virgilian style and the effectiveness with which it suits its context, setting the scene for Venus, who redirects Aeneas’ energies to the rescue of his family. So we have bracketed the passage and kept it in the translation.
The
Aeneid,
of course, is based on and often uses characters and incidents from the Homeric epics. In the
Iliad
Aeneas is an important warrior fighting on the Trojan side. He is the son of the love-goddess Aphrodite (Venus in the Roman pantheon) and Anchises, and he is often rescued from death at the hands of Greek warriors by divine intervention: from Diomedes by Aphrodite (
Iliad
5.495-517), and from Achilles by Poseidon (Neptune) at
Iliad
20.314-386. On this occasion Poseidon comments on Aeneas’ piety toward the gods: “He always gave us gifts to warm our hearts, / gifts for the gods who rule the vaulting skies” (20.345-46). He also says something else about Aeneas:
Aeneid,
of course, is based on and often uses characters and incidents from the Homeric epics. In the
Iliad
Aeneas is an important warrior fighting on the Trojan side. He is the son of the love-goddess Aphrodite (Venus in the Roman pantheon) and Anchises, and he is often rescued from death at the hands of Greek warriors by divine intervention: from Diomedes by Aphrodite (
Iliad
5.495-517), and from Achilles by Poseidon (Neptune) at
Iliad
20.314-386. On this occasion Poseidon comments on Aeneas’ piety toward the gods: “He always gave us gifts to warm our hearts, / gifts for the gods who rule the vaulting skies” (20.345-46). He also says something else about Aeneas:
“He is destined to survive.
Yes, so the generation of Dardanus shall not perish . . .
Dardanus, dearest to Zeus of all the sons
That mortal women brought to birth for Father.” (20.349-53)
Dardanus was the founder of the race of Trojan kings, ancestor not only
of Priam and Hector but also of Anchises and Aeneas. And Poseidon goes
on to say: “and now Aeneas will rule the men of Troy in power—/ his
sons’ sons and the sons born in future years”
of Priam and Hector but also of Anchises and Aeneas. And Poseidon goes
on to say: “and now Aeneas will rule the men of Troy in power—/ his
sons’ sons and the sons born in future years”
(20.355-56).
Poseidon’s mention of Aeneas’ insistence on gifts of sacrifice to the gods anticipates the adjective that Virgil often attaches to him—
pius,
and its abstract noun
pietas.
He is called in the early lines of the poem (1.10) “a man outstanding in his piety,”
insignem pietate virum,
and in 1.457 he introduces himself to his mother, Venus (whom he has not yet recognized), with the words “I am pious Aeneas,”
sum pius Aeneas
(trans. Knox). The adjective and the abstract noun occur often in the poem and are attributed to its hero. Virgil’s mastery of the hexameter line rules out the Homeric reason for the repetition of such modifiers—metrical necessity; in Virgil the frequent reappearance of these words in connection with the hero has a meaning and an emphasis, though not those of Yeats’s sailor who told him Aeneas sounded more like a priest than a hero.
pius,
and its abstract noun
pietas.
He is called in the early lines of the poem (1.10) “a man outstanding in his piety,”
insignem pietate virum,
and in 1.457 he introduces himself to his mother, Venus (whom he has not yet recognized), with the words “I am pious Aeneas,”
sum pius Aeneas
(trans. Knox). The adjective and the abstract noun occur often in the poem and are attributed to its hero. Virgil’s mastery of the hexameter line rules out the Homeric reason for the repetition of such modifiers—metrical necessity; in Virgil the frequent reappearance of these words in connection with the hero has a meaning and an emphasis, though not those of Yeats’s sailor who told him Aeneas sounded more like a priest than a hero.
The word
pius
does indeed refer, like its English derivative, to devotion and duty to the Divine; this is the reason cited by Poseidon in the
Iliad
for saving Aeneas from death at the hand of Achilles. And in the
Aeneid
he is always mindful of the gods, constant in prayer and thanks and dutiful in sacrifice. But the words
pius
and
pietas
have in Latin a wider meaning. Perhaps the best English equivalent is something like “dutiful,” “mindful of one’s duty”—not only to the gods but also to one’s family and to one’s country.
pius
does indeed refer, like its English derivative, to devotion and duty to the Divine; this is the reason cited by Poseidon in the
Iliad
for saving Aeneas from death at the hand of Achilles. And in the
Aeneid
he is always mindful of the gods, constant in prayer and thanks and dutiful in sacrifice. But the words
pius
and
pietas
have in Latin a wider meaning. Perhaps the best English equivalent is something like “dutiful,” “mindful of one’s duty”—not only to the gods but also to one’s family and to one’s country.
Aeneas’ devotion to his family was famous. Book 2 describes how, after realizing that fighting was no longer of use, that Troy was doomed, he carries his father, Anchises, on his shoulders out of the burning city, holding his son Ascanius by the hand, with his wife, Creusa, following behind. But she is lost on the way, and he arrives at the rendezvous outside the city with only his father and son. In desperation he rushes back into the burning city to find her, but finds only her ghost, which tells him what his future and his duty are now:
“‘A long exile is your fate . . .
the vast plains of the sea are yours to plow
until you reach Hesperian land, where Lydian Tiber
flows with its smooth march through rich and loamy fields,
a land of hardy people. There great joy and a kingdom
are yours to claim, and a queen to make your wife . . .
And now farewell. Hold dear the son we share,
we love together.’”(2.967-80)
He tries to embrace her only to find
“. . . her phantom
sifting through my fingers,
light as wind, quick as a dream in flight.”(2.984-86)
But
pietas
describes another loyalty and duty, besides that to the gods and to the family. It is for the Roman, to Rome, and in Aeneas’ case, to his mission to found it in Hesperia, the western country, Italy. And it is noticeable that this adjective is not applied to him when, in love with Dido, in Book 4, he actually takes part in helping to build her city, Carthage, “founding the city fortifications, / building homes in Carthage” (4.324-25). Jupiter in heaven, enraged that Aeneas has forgotten his mission, sends his messenger, Mercury, down to him with the single-word command
Naviget!
“Let him set sail!” (4.296). Only when Aeneas realizes he must leave Dido, and suffers from her rage as he makes his reply to her accusations, only when he leaves for the shore and gives his fleet the order to set sail, is he called
pius
again (4.494-95). He has given up her love, and left her to die, as he fulfills his duty to his son—for as Mercury reminds him, “you owe him Italy’s realm, the land of Rome!” (4.343)—and his own duty to found the western Troy that is to be.
pietas
describes another loyalty and duty, besides that to the gods and to the family. It is for the Roman, to Rome, and in Aeneas’ case, to his mission to found it in Hesperia, the western country, Italy. And it is noticeable that this adjective is not applied to him when, in love with Dido, in Book 4, he actually takes part in helping to build her city, Carthage, “founding the city fortifications, / building homes in Carthage” (4.324-25). Jupiter in heaven, enraged that Aeneas has forgotten his mission, sends his messenger, Mercury, down to him with the single-word command
Naviget!
“Let him set sail!” (4.296). Only when Aeneas realizes he must leave Dido, and suffers from her rage as he makes his reply to her accusations, only when he leaves for the shore and gives his fleet the order to set sail, is he called
pius
again (4.494-95). He has given up her love, and left her to die, as he fulfills his duty to his son—for as Mercury reminds him, “you owe him Italy’s realm, the land of Rome!” (4.343)—and his own duty to found the western Troy that is to be.
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