3—
Ethos
Total clarity in narrative can only be achieved by giving quite precise and detailed
information about the outward circumstances of the action which create equally
precise concepts in the reader's mind. Whatever Virgil narrates, he lets us see it
more or less sharply. Further examination will show that in this, too, he was in-
fluenced by his models, and the clearer the picture in his model, the more he strives
after the same effect, although using his own means; a more important, and harder,
task would be to show what Virgil's perception of events was and how he perceived
them, but that lies outside our scope. One thing needs to be said in preparation for
what follows: the outward clarity of the narrative was also influenced by the fact
362 that Virgil was overwhelmingly interested in the psychological side of things, as we
established above. He cares more about his characters' emotions and desires than
about their visible actions; he would rather give the listener the illusion of sharing
the feeling than the illusion that he is physically seeing something. When a host of
visual details are given, this is, in most cases, not for the sake of providing a picture,
but in order to arouse a particular emotion; Virgil knows that the pathos of pity or
fear is most surely aroused when the illusion of reality is achieved.[7]
The most characteristic thing about Virgil's narrative is that it is soaked through
and through with feeling.[8] It is not like later Hellenistic poetry where the poet 's
feelings continually force themselves on us (although, as we shall see, Virgil is
much less reticent than Homer in this respect too); but the feelings of the protagon-
ists are intended to be suggested to us by the narrative, without being expressly
mentioned. Homer's narrative generally leaves it to the reader to guess what emo-
363 tions accompanied the narrated events, with the sole aid of conversations and
monologues; Virgil never narrates without indicating the appropriate emotion, at the
very least by the tone and colours used, and sometimes by an explicit allusion. He
has put himself into the heart of his characters and speaks from inside them; he even
projects emotion into insentient Nature; he wants to make the listener share their
feelings, whether it is a violent passion flaring up, or the steady warmth of a more
restrained mood. I have already mentioned the atmosphere of the Games in Book 5
(above p. 135); as further examples I select, not the narration of exciting and
emotional events where the pathos is obvious, but comparatively unexciting events,
and to this end I must cite some longish extracts.
The departure of the Trojans from their homeland (3.1):
Postquam r e s A s i a e Priamique evertere gentem
i n m e r i t a m visum superis , ceciditque s u p e r b u m
Ilium et omnis humo fumat Neptunia Troia ,
diversa exilia et d e s e r t a s quaerere terras
auguriis agimur divum , classemque sub ipsa
Antandro et Phrygiae m o l i m u r montibus Idae ,
i n c e r t i quo fata ferant , ubi sistere detur ,
contrahimusque viros . v i x p r i m a i n c e p e r a t aestas ,
et pater Anchises d a r e f a t i s vela iubebat ,
litora cum p a t r i a e lacrimans portusque relinquo
et campos , ubi Troia f u i t ; feror e x u l i n a l t u m
cum sociis n a t o q u e p e n a t i b u s e t m a g n i s d i s
['The powers above had decreed the overthrow of the Asian empire and Priam's
breed of men, though they deserved a better fate. Lordly Ilium had fallen and all
Neptune's Troy lay a smoking ruin on the ground. We the exiled survivors were
forced by divine command to search the world for a home in some uninhabited land.
So we started to build ships below Antandros, the city by the foothills of Phrygian
Ida, with no idea where destiny would take us or where we should be allowed to
settle. We gathered our company together. In early summer our chieftain Anchises
urged us to embark on our destined voyage. In tears I left my homeland's coast, its
havens, and the plains where Troy had stood. I fared out upon the high seas, an exile
with my comrades and my son, with the little gods of our home and the great gods of
our race'].
The lines do not give much of a picture, but they do communicate a great variety
of emotions, although only one word – lacrimans [in tears] – expressly refers to
them. We see the fall of Troy through the eyes of Aeneas as a terrible disaster which
has come upon the innocent because of an incomprehensible decision of the gods;
we are made to share the mood of the refugees who are being sent into the unknown,
to inhospitable far-off lands, into exile; who nevertheless, in obedience to the gods,
do not hesitate for one moment and piously accept their fate; we share their sorrow
364 as they pass the site of Troy; their divided feelings are made clear to us in the
concluding words: deep sorrow, and yet they find consolation in what Aeneas is
taking with him: his companions, his son, above all, the gods; the narrative is
rounded off with the weighty spondees et magnis dis [and the great gods], some-
thing to cling to in an uncertain future.
That was Aeneas speaking, but the tone is not very different when the poet
narrates. Let us look at their arrival in Cumae (6.5):
iuvenum manus e m i c a t a r d e n s
litus in H e s p e r i u m ; quaerit pars semina flammae
abstrusa in venis silicis , pars densa ferarum
tecta r a p i t silvas inventaque flumina m o n s t r a t .
at pius Aeneas arces , quibus a l t u s Apollo
praesidet , h o r r e n d a e q u e procul s e c r e t a Sibyllae ,
antrum i m m a n e petit . . .
[A party of young Trojans eagerly darted ashore on to the Western Land. Some
searched for the seeds of flame which lie embedded in the veins of flint. Others
penetrated the forests and raided the tangled shelters of the wild creatures, signalling
when they found a water-stream. But Aeneas the True made his way to the fastness
where Apollo rules enthroned on high, and to the vast cavern beyond, which is the
awful Sibyl's own secluded place] – on the one hand the happy bustle of the young
men – they cannot land quickly enough, to find at last on the Hesperian shore the
aquam et ignem [water and fire] of their new home; on the other hand, Aeneas'
emotions as he approaches a solemnly significant event in pious awe.
Aeneas' journey to Evander (8.86):
Thybris ea fluvium quam longa est nocte tumentem
leniit e t t a c i t a r e f l u e n s i t a s u b s t i t i t unda
mitis ut in m o r e m s t a g n i p l a c i d a e q u e p a l u d i s
s t e r n e r e t aequor aquis , remo ut luctamen abesset .
ergo iter inceptum celerant r u m o r e s e c u n d o ,
labitur uncta vadis abies ; m i r a n t u r et undae ,
miratur nemus insuetum fulgentia longe
scuta virum fluvio pictasque innare carinas .
olli remigio noctemque diemque f a t i g a n t
et l o n g o s s u p e r a n t f l e x u s variisque teguntur
arboribus viridisque secant placido aequore silvas .
sol medium caeli conscenderat i g n e u s orbem ,
cum muros arcemque procul ac rara domorum
tecta vident , quae n u n c Romana potentia caelo
aequavit , t u m res inopes Evander habebat .
o c i u s advertunt proras urbique propinquant .
[Then did Tiber make smooth his heaving flood for the whole length of that night
and withdrew the flow of his now voiceless waves, becoming so still as he levelled
the ripples on his surface that it seemed like a kindly pool or peaceful marsh, on
which no oar need strain. So then the Trojans began their journey and made good
speed, encouraged by what Aeneas had been told. Greased pine-timbers slid by over
shallow water. The very waves wondered, and the woods, strangers to such a sight,
were surprised to see floating in the river the brightly painted ships with the war-
riors' far-gleaming shields. The Trojans rowed tirelessly till a night and a day were
spent. They passed round long bends, and shaded by trees of many kinds they cut
between green forests on the friendly river-surface. The fiery sun had climbed to the
mid-point of the sky's circle when ahead of them they saw walls, a citadel, and
scattered house-roofs; all this Roman might has now exalted to Heaven, but at that
time Evander lived there in poverty. Quickly they turned prows shorewards, and
drew near to the city.]
365 Here we have animation of Nature: the god of the river, who has told them to
make the journey, stops the flow of his current and cannot do enough to help them;
the waves and woods stand amazed, like children of nature, at the unaccustomed
sight; on the other hand, we have the mood of the oarsmen, joyful eagerness as they
notice that their task is being made easier, although it is still difficult and tiring
enough; joy at the many kinds of trees growing thickly along the banks; when these
can no longer shade them from the heat of the midday sun, they find that their
destination is at last in sight, and double their efforts to reach it. There is also
another feeling, one that is not shared by the characters in the poem: the great
contrast between Then and Now, a favourite concern of Virgil's time. Let us com-
pare this with what is said of the Tiber in other places: how the river invites the
Trojans to stay when they arrive and Aeneas laetus fluvio succedit opaco (7.36)
[happily moved up into the shady river]; how Turnus, yielding to superior force,
leaps into the river (9.815):
ille suo cum gurgite flavo
a c c e p i t venientem ac m o l l i b u s e x t u l i t undis
et laetum sociis a b l u t a c a e d e r e m i s i t :
[the river welcomed him to its yellow stream and bore him on gentle waves. It
washed the blood away and carried him back, happy, to his comrades]: it is as if the
god himself could not help admiring the hero, he receives him in such a friendly
way, and something which would endanger the lives of others is only a refreshing
dip for Turnus. It is different when the nymphs, who were ships a moment before,
swim down to the sea (9.124); the onlookers stand horrified –
cunctatur et amnis
rauca sonans revocatque pedem Tiberinus ab alto .
[Even the River Tiber checked with a growling roar and flinched, withdrawing
hastily from the deep.]
It is worth examining the coming and going of messengers: the delegation from
the Trojan ships, threatened by the Carthaginians, concursu magno , templum cla -
more petebant (1.509) [in a great crowd, they made their way amid shouting to the
temple]. Aeneas' messengers to Latinus: since they are going to augusta moenia
regis [the majestic battlements of the king], a hundred hand-picked men are sent;
they go into the unknown, but haud mora , festinant iussi rapidisque feruntur
passibus [having received their orders they obeyed at once and strode swiftly on
their way], with quick and obedient resolve (7.156); they return sublimes in equis
pacemque reportant (285) [on horseback, holding themselves high, and bringing
home the agreement of peace]: the first word gives the entire mood. They were sent
pacem exposcere Teucris [to seek peace for the Trojans]; the Latins come to Aeneas
366 after the battle much more diffidently, veniam rogantes [asking for his indulgence].
Finally the men sent to treat with Diomedes (11.243):
Vidimus o cives Diomedem Argivaque castra
atque iter emensi casus superavimus omnis
contigimusque manum qua concidit Ilia tellus :
[Countrymen, we have seen Diomede and his camp of Argives. We completed our
journey, surviving all its chances; and we have touched that very hand by which the
land of Ilium perished]: first we see their contentment that they have come to the
end of a long and difficult journey; then the feeling known to anyone who has been
privileged to touch the hand of someone truly great.
Enough of examples; anyone can find plenty more for himself. I should just like
to mention here a group of features which belong together and which will allow us
to link up with the observation of an ancient critic. Asinius Pollio stated (according
to Servius on 11.183) that when describing daybreak Virgil always selects a phrase
which is appropriate to the situation at that moment. If the examples given by
Servius go back to Asinius, then the latter has read things into Virgil which the poet
certainly never thought of;[9] however, the idea is worth pursuing, within limits.
Obviously it is not mere chance that Virgil nearly always introduces new turns of
phrase to replace the stereotyped 
[when rosy-fingered dawn appeared, child of the morning]:[10] it would go against
367 his usual manner of presentation if he did not strive to evoke a particular mood
wherever possible. The idyllic tone of the scene with Evander is matched by 8.455f.:
Evandrum ex humili tecto lux suscitat alma
et matutini volucrum sub culmine cantus
[the strengthening light of dawn and the morning song of birds under the eaves
368 roused Evander to leave his lowly house]. Similarly, at the beginning of the day
which is to bring the final decision, the magnificent lines (12.114)
cum primum alto se gurgite tollunt
Solis equi lucemque elatis naribus efflant
[when the horses of the sun had just begun to arise out of ocean's depth, breathing
light from their high-held muzzles]; on the happy day of the Games (5.104)
expectata dies aderat nonamque s e r e n a
Auroram Phaethontis equi iam luce vehebant
[the awaited day arrived. In fine weather Phaethon's horses were now already
bringing the ninth dawn]; on the day of the heat of battle (11.182)
Aurora interea miseris mortalibus alma
extulerat lucem referens opera atque labores
[meanwhile Aurora had lifted her strengthening light for pitiful humanity, bringing
back to them their tasks and their toils]. Aeneas, lying awake worrying during the
first night on the Libyan shore, sees the new day as a blessing, since he can now
establish whither the storm has driven them (1.305):
per noctem plurima volvens
ut primum lux a l m a d a t a est exire locosque
explorare novos . . . constituit
[after a night spent in thought, he decided to walk out in the freshness of the dawn to
investigate this new country]. The first white light of dawn is mentioned when Dido,
sleepless on the watchtower, catches sight of the fleet floating on the sea ( ut primam
albescere lucem vidit [4.584] [when she saw the first white gleam of dawn]); it is in
the gleaming rays of the sun that the splendid, happy procession of the hunt forms
(iubare exorto [4.130] [when the brightness arose]); during a pink dawn full of hope,
the Trojans see their new homeland for the first time rising above the horizon
(rubescebat stellis Aurora fugatis [3.521] [Dawn with its first red glow had routed
the stars]); it is in the first full brightness of day that Aeneas and the Tyrrhenian fleet
approach the Latin coast: his shield gleaming in the sunlight and his flashing armour
will signal to his men from far off that rescue is on the way.
It would be easy to fall into a trap here. Pollio can serve as a warning not to credit
369 the poet with too much calculated intention. But taken as a whole, nobody would
argue that it was mere chance that the nuances in these quotations match each
situation. The same is true generally: many of the individual examples are uncertain,
but the main principle will be accepted by all who read any part of the Aeneid from
this viewpoint; and if any hesitation remained, it would vanish if one compared the
corresponding passage by someone like Apollonius.[11] We can learn a lot from this
comparison because it is very probable that Virgil was consciously trying to be
different from Apollonius in this respect. One of the main reasons why the long epic
370 form was rejected by Callimachus and his Greek and Roman successors alike was
that they believed that such a broad stream inevitably carried along with it 'a lot of
sludge'; since the Homeric epic countenanced no omission, no allusion, no abbrevi-
ation, they thought that it could not be copied without 'dead' stretches which arouse
no interest or emotion in the listener. This explains why certain writers of short
poems then adopted a peculiar technique which did not treat even a small-scale
subject in a balanced way. When Virgil, in defiance of warnings from this school of
critics and poets, dared to attempt a large-scale epic, one of his major concerns must
have been to show that it really was possible to keep it interesting and alive all the
way through; in fact he could learn from Apollonius what was to be avoided if he
was to achieve this object. Thus, here too, conformity with contemporary artistic
theory may have helped to strengthen his stylistic tendencies, although of course
their roots drew their main nourishment from the poet's own nature; as the Georgics
relate to the Hellenistic didactic poems of such as Nicander, so does the Aeneid
stand in relation to the Hellenistic epic of Apollonius.