[893]
“Sunt geminae Belli portae” 7.
607. The gates of Sleep are from Hom.'s
gates of dreams, which are similarly described
Od. 19. 562 foll. Much ingenuity
has been expended in searching for a
symbolical meaning in them. Heyne
seems right in saying that Virg. wanted
to dismiss Aeneas from the shades by
some other way than that by which he
had entered, and that Hom.'s gates fortunately
occurred to him. See Introduction
to this Book. Turnebus and
others wanted to understand ‘somni’ as
‘somnii:’ but ‘somnii’ would not be the
same as ‘somniorum.’ Here, as elsewhere
(e. g. v. 702 above), Virg. evidently substitutes
sleep for dreams, on account of
the metrical unmanageableness of ‘somnium.’
‘Fertur’ might conceivably be
understood as = ‘surgit’ or ‘tollit se;’
but it is simpler to understand it ‘is reported
to be,’ Virg. speaking doubtfully of
things that mortals have no direct means
of knowing. ‘Fertur cornea’ like “non
sat idoneus Pugnae ferebaris” Hor. 2 Od.
19. 26.
[894]
Veris Umbris, real spirits which
appear in sleep. How far the existence of
such apparitions agrees with Virg.'s philosophy
may be doubted: see on 4. 353., 5.
722. In Hom. the distinction is between
truthful and lying dreams; and perhaps
Virg. means to include this as well. See
on v. 896.
[895]
Perfecta nitens seems = “perfecte
nitens,” like “saxosus sonans,” “lenis
crepitans,” &c., though ‘perfecta elephanto’
would naturally go together, like “Cymbia
argento perfecta” 5. 267. ‘Gleaming with
the polish of dazzling ivory.’
[896]
Beautiful as the ivory gate is, the
apparitions that pass through it are false.
For the power of the shades to send
dreams comp. Clytaemnestra's dream,
which was sent by Agamemnon, Soph.
El. 459, “οἶμαι μὲν οὖν, οἶμαί τι κἀκείνῳ
μέλον ΙΙέμψαι τάδ᾽ αὐτῇ δυσπρόσοπτ᾽ ὀνείρατα”.
Wagn. Comp. Tibull. 2. 6. 37, “ne
tibi neglecti mittant mala somnia Manes,”
which Virg. may have thought of, if it
was published before his death. ‘Falsa’
probably refers both to the quality of the
apparition and to the message that it
brings. Both may be illustrated from the
dreams of Hom.: in Od. 4. 796 the apparition
of Iphthime is made by Athene: in
Il. 2. 6 foll. the Dream-god is sent to give
false counsel. There is apparently a similar
combination of the two notions in Hor.
3 Od. 27. 40 foll., “imago Vana, quae
porta fugiens eburna Somnium ducit.”
[897]
It is difficult to choose between
‘ibi’ (fragm. Vat., Rom., Gud. a m. p.,
and probably Pal.) and ‘ubi’ (Med.). The
former is the more simple, the latter the
more artificial. On the whole I have followed
Ribbeck in preferring ‘ibi,’ as ‘portaque
emittit eburna’ loses force by being
thrown into the protasis, and even Wagn.
does not propose to treat it as forming the
apodosis, though in 12. 81 he makes ‘rapidusque’
the apodosis to ‘ubi.’ “Natumque
unaque Sibyllam” v. 752 above.
[898]
“Prosequitur votis” 9. 310.
‘His’ is explained by what precedes, vv.
890 foll. Anchises continues his instructions
till they part at the gate.
[899]
“Viam secat” 12. 368. So
τέμνειν ὁδόν. “Post hinc ad navis graditur
sociosque revisit” 8. 546. The sense
is from Od. 11. 636, αὐτίκ᾽ ἔπειτ᾽ ἐπὶ νῆα
κιὼν ἐκέλευον ἑταίρους Αὐτούς τ᾽ ἀμβαίνειν
ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι, of Ulysses leaving
the shades.
[900]
Recto litore, sailing straight
along the shore, like “recto flumine” 8.
57. He follows the line of coast, and it
takes him to Caieta. Heyne read ‘limite’
from three or four inferior MSS., to avoid
the repetition of ‘litore’ in the same part
of the next verse: but though the repetition
is certainly awkward, it seems better
to suppose a slight carelessness on Virg.'s
part than to question the reading of all
the great MSS. Ribbeck cuts the knot
by bracketing v. 901, which is repeated
from 3. 277. Perhaps we may say that
Virg. inserted it as a piece of his own epic
common-place, whether as a stop-gap or
not, and that this accounts for the repetition
of ‘litore.’ The mention of Caieta has
been objected to, as inconsistent with the
opening of the next Book, where it is said
that the death of Caieta, Aeneas' nurse,
was the occasion of the name. But this is
natural and Virgilian enough; and we can
hardly wish that the poet had rivalled the
accuracy of Ovid, who in his brief narrative
of Aeneas' adventures (M. 14. 157)
says “Litora adit nondum nutricis habentia
nomen.”
APPENDIX.
“THEN, binding round their brows the mystic branch of bay, they rose, and in silence
entered upon holy ground. . . . . . Fronting them rose the high altar, crowned, like
the rest, with laurel, on which all must lay tribute who would inquire aught of
Phoebus. Here the priests took of their offering and burnt it upon the slab. If the
day were one of consultation, lots then were drawn for precedence, and he whom
fortune favoured moved on, past the Omphalos, where Apollo had reposed in early
days, past the tomb of Neoptolemus, past the image of Pallas, to the steps of the
shrine itself. At the foot he left his train of servants, and mounted all alone, wondering
at the marvels round, the open colonnades, the wondrous sculptures filling the
pediments of the noble tympana, each commemorating the life and labours of a god.
. . . And now the jubilant trumpets of the priests pealed out, with notes that rang
round the valley, and up among the windings of the Hyampeian cliff. Awed into
silence by the sound, he crossed the garlanded threshold: he sprinkled on his head the
holy water from the fonts of gold, and entered the outer court. New statues, fresh
fonts, craters, and goblets, the gift of many an Eastern king, met his eye: walls
emblazoned with dark sayings rose about him as he crossed towards the inner adytum.
Then the music grew more loud: the interest deepened: his heart beat faster. With
a sound as of many thunders, that penetrated to the crowd without, the subterranean
door rolled back: the earth trembled: the laurels nodded: smoke and vapour broke
commingled forth: and, railed below within a hollow of the rock, perchance he caught
one glimpse of the marble effigies of Zeus and the dread sisters, one gleam of sacred
arms; for one moment saw a steaming chasm, a shaking tripod, above all, a Figure
with fever on her cheek and foam upon her lips, who, fixing a wild eye upon space,
tossed her arms aloft in the agony of her soul, and, with a shriek that never left his
ear for days, chanted high and quick the dark utterances of the will of Heaven.”
ARNOLD PRIZE ESSAY for 1859, pp. 14, 15.
NOTE on Aen. 6. 646, p. 507.—At the end of this note, after the word “epexegetical,”
Mr. Conington added: “A development of this view will be found in an extract
printed at the end of this Book, from a letter from Mr. D. B. Monro, Fellow and Tutor
of Oriel College, to whom I am indebted for the information about the Aristotelian
use of
ἀντίφωνος.” This extract could not be found. Mr. Monro has kindly supplied
the defect by sending the following remarks on Aeneid 6. 646:—
“The passages which
Virgil seems chiefly to have had in view in the description of
Orpheus are Od. 8. 256—265 (see Mr. Conington's note on Aen. 6. 644), and Il. 18.
590—606, 569—572. In the first of these passages Phemius is represented as playing
on the phorminx, and (it would seem) singing the story of Ares and Aphrodite as an
accompaniment to the dancing of the Phaeacian youth. In the second passage we are
told that one of the pictures on the shield of Achilles represented a chorus dancing,
‘and in their midst a divine singer made music (
ἐμέλπετο), playing on the phorminx.’
In those cases the chorus is not expressly said to be one of singers: but in the procession
of grape-gatherers on the same shield (vv. 561—572) the troop moved along ‘with
music and joyous cries’ (
μολπῇ τ᾽ ἰυγμῷ τε), while a boy played the phorminx and
sang the Linus to its accompaniment (if that is the true meaning of
λίνον δ᾽ ὑπὸ καλὸν
ἄειδε). So according to the Hymn to the Pythian Apollo (H. Apoll. 514 ff.) the god himself
led the way bearing the phorminx, while the Cretans followed and sang a Cretan
paean: and in
Olympus Apollo plays on the phorminx, and the Muses sing in turn
(Il. 1. 604). In all these cases there is a single musician whose instrument regulates
and accompanies the chorus: but whether he sings himself, and whether the chorus
sings as well as dances, is not always clear. The practice may have varied with the
character of the performance, as the epic or lyric element predominated. In the
Lament for Hector (Il. 24. 720—776) there are singers who ‘lead the wailing,’ but
nothing is said of instruments: Andromache, Hecuba, and Helen recite in turn their
praises of the dead man, and the rest bewail in chorus. Virgil, however, has distinctly
made his chorus sing or recite (‘
carmina dicunt’) as well as dance, and therefore he
probably intended to represent Orpheus as playing only. ‘
Septem discrimina vocum’
refers in the first instance to the lyre, and could not very naturally be applied to the
voice: ‘
vox’ is used, like Gr.
φωνή, for the ‘
note’ of an instrument. (See Welcker, Ep.
Cycl. vol. i. p. 329, and Kl. Schrift. vol. ii. p. 32.)”
