11—
Past Events
So far, we have seen how carefully Virgil sought to avoid interrupting the narrative
with recapitulatory explanations, preferring to start afresh with a new continuous
narrative. In the case of simultaneous happenings this was achieved by following the
new action until it converged with the old; the matter is less easy when past things
have to be recapitulated, whether they date back to before the beginning of the
whole story, or happened during the story but are only narrated later. Virgil gives
such past events, whenever possible, to one of his characters to narrate, thereby
preserving the continuity of his own narrative and action. Venus' account of Dido's
earlier fate in Book 1 is supplemented in Book 4 by Anna's remarks about the
unsuccessful Libyan suitors (36ff.). Aeneas learns from Tiberinus (8.51ff.) of Evan-
der's settlement; he learns from Evander himself of Mezentius' cruel deeds and the
situation in Etruria (8.477ff.); Andromache (3.325ff.) narrates her sorrowful history
herself, after everything that was necessary to introduce the episode had been given
as briefly as possible by Fama (295-7); and in this way we hear from Achae-
menides' mouth about Odysseus and Polyphemus (623ff.). Thus it is an established
technique, whether it is due to a conscious principle or results from Virgil's artistic
tact in each case. This technique is not self-evident; one can contrast it with Apollo-
nius' treatment of the Phineus story, 2.178. First the poet himself speaks of Phineus'
391 guilt and punishment; then the latter speaks of the plague of Harpies (220-33);
finally we experience this plague ourselves (266-72). Similarly, when the Argonauts
are approaching the island of Lemnos the poet himself freely narrates what has
happened there before their arrival, 1.609, and tells the history of the sons of Phrixus
before they met the Argonauts 2.1095, although Argus then has to repeat most of
this history to them (1125). This is clearly very different from Virgil's technique.
For the stories of the foundation of Italic cities and the legends attached to them,
the two catalogues are a convenient vehicle: here it is not the poet speaking, but the
Muse. Anything which could not be accommodated here, Virgil weaves in with a
special device when the opportunity arises: Venus, speaking to Jupiter, recalls the
example of Antenor, who founded Patavium (1.242): the detail she goes into about
the circumstances of the foundation is perhaps not fully justified by the situation
alone. Diomedes tells the Latin delegates about the transformation of his compan-
ions (11.271): that is very skilfully motivated there, as is Evander's long narrative
about Hercules' fight with Cacus and the establishment of the cult of Hercules,
8.185. Something different again, not direct speech, but also not simply a report
from the poet, is the way in which the story of Daedalus' settling in Cumae, and the
foundation of the temple of Apollo, is introduced, as an ecphrasis [description] of
the sculptures contemplated by Aeneas (6.14).
There are only a few cases where it is not possible to insert past happenings into
the present in this way. Book 7 begins with a description of the present situation;
this description leads imperceptibly back into the past; and the result of what is
narrated, with which the interpolation ends ( Fama per urbes Ausonias tulerat [104]
[Rumour had brought the news among the Italian cities]), is again simultaneous with
Aeneas' landing, to which we then return. Nevertheless, the whole interpolation
interrupts the course of the action, which carries on at 107 directly from 36; since
Virgil was not able to avoid this, he does not attempt a cover-up; on the contrary, he
emphasizes it in 37-44 by giving it its own proem, which marks the beginning of the
new, second part of the work: in such a position a smooth transition is dispensable,
or even not desirable. Similarly in a second case, which should be mentioned here:
at 9.77 the prehistory of the Trojan ships is to be narrated, that is, recapitulated; none
392 of the characters in the poem knows of the conversation between Jupiter and the
Great Mother, so the poet himself has to report it. By calling on the Muses he
indicates that it is something remarkable in every way. One only asks oneself, why
does he move the scene back to the time when Aeneas was on Ida felling the timber
to build the ships? Why does he not have the Great Mother approaching her son with
a request in the usual way, while interea [meanwhile] Turnus is trying to start a fire
and the Trojans are trying to stop him? The reason is obviously not that he felt
bound by any tradition, for he disposes of the tradition quite freely in such cases; but
we must confront the question, why the ships have been exposed to the raging
waters (in Book 1) and raging fire (in Book 5) without any protection, yet at this
particular moment the Great Mother intervenes. The appeal to the Muses, apparently
required by the uniqueness of the occasion, has also the technical significance that it
makes the interruption and recapitulation seem less intrusive.
The second of the eventualities mentioned above was that something which had
happened during the timespan of the action has to be reported afterwards. This may
be in the case of events which happened at the same time as the main action but
which did not seem important enough for the thread of the narrative to be broken for
their sake in the manner described above. We are brought only to the result of the
secondary action, which is itself introduced to explain the situation in hand. This is
the case with the death of Misenus, which occurred during Aeneas' absence, but
which is reported only when Aeneas finds the corpse on his return, 6.162.[34] Out-
wardly quite similar are the cases in which something belonging to the main action
is narrated, after having been omitted at its rightful place: e.g. the arrangements
which Aeneas made when he left the camp (9.40, 172): their rightful place would
have been 8.80, but it is possible that the need for such arrangements did not occur
to Virgil at that point. Similarly, Turnus' exchange of swords, which becomes fatal
during the duel with Aeneas, and is therefore not mentioned until then, 12.735, is
393 not mentioned in 326, because it has no consequences at that point and would seem
unimportant. But these are extremely rare cases, and Virgil himself will have con-
sidered that he was taking liberties in treating them as he did.
Such recapitulation can be avoided here too by the poet having one of his
characters mention the occurrence later. We then learn things which the poet could
have told us earlier from what they say: this happens much less often in Homer, as
far as I can see, than it does in Virgil. At 11.446 we are told very briefly castra
Aeneas aciemque movebat [Aeneas was moving his camp and his battle-front]: the
further details, that Aeneas is sending on the cavalry to an open battle, while he
himself will reach Laurentum by a different route and take it unawares in a surprise
attack – these we learn from what Turnus says to Camilla (511). That Aeneas has
prepared a riding display as a surprise for the Games, we learn from the whispered
instructions that he gives to the paidagogus (5.547). That, after the embarkation
from Caere, the Etruscan and Arcadian cavalry were sent by land and Turnus
prevented them reaching the camp – this information would have weighed down the
short report of the events in Caere (10.148): the poet tells us about it later, in
Cymodocea's words to Aeneas. In these cases there is no doubt that Virgil is
consciously narrating
us deduce from the narrative that something has happened about which we were not
told earlier.[35] It is important that we are able to be certain about this, because in
other cases where a new motif is introduced at a late stage we might not have been
able to tell whether the poet had forgotten to prepare for it in advance, or purposely
omitted it earlier, and (in cases where this preparation would have belonged in an
earlier book) whether its omission can be attributed to the fact that the books have
not been brought into complete agreement with each other. At 4.351 Aeneas, de-
fending himself to Dido, says that Anchises appears to him every night in his
dreams, reminding him of his duty – we should have been told this before Mercury's
394 appearance, but there was no opportunity. At 4.421 Dido says that Aeneas has
always had confidence in Anna (see p. 114 n. 38 above); to have made that clear at
the right place would have required considerable expansion of the narrative. At
6.343 Aeneas refers to a prophecy given by Apollo which applies to Palinurus: the
right place to mention it would have been in Book 3; there is nothing about it there,
but I do not believe that Virgil would have thought it necessary to change Book 6 to
bring it into line with Book 3.
Virgil deals with future events very much in the same way: things which will
happen are mentioned in direct speech, and that is sufficient for the poet, who does
not bother to mention them when they do happen: haec in oeconomia praeiudicia
nominantur , quotiens negotii futuri exitus tollitur [these instances in the arrange-
ment are called 'prior judgements', when the outcome of a future action is
presumed], Servius on 11.593, where Diana foretells that she will carry Camilla's
corpse from the battle-field and bury it in her native land. Servius points very
perceptively to Venus' words (to Amor), tu faciem illius noctem non amplius unam
falle dolo (1.683) [you must for no more than one night assume his shape as a
disguise], with which the poet tries to make it unnecessary to give any later state-
ment about the replacement of the false Ascanius by the real one.
This brings us to the treatment of the distant future which lies outside the time-
scale of the whole poem.