Virgil’s Erato and the Fate of Aeneas

Confronted with these lines, the poem’s critics have been led to an overwhelming question. Why, in the ‘Iliadic’ context of Aeneid 7-12, does Virgil invoke the Muse traditionally associated with erotic poetry? [3] Puzzlement over the poet’s source of inspiration began early. Servius auctus theorizes Virgil sane Erato uel pro Calliope uel pro qualicumque Musa posuit (surely put down Erato either for Calliope or for some other Muse), and succeeding generations of scholars have tended to frame their arguments in response to this hypothesis. [4] Those who follow Servius in denying an erotic aspect to Virgil’s Muse do so on the grounds that, as Nisbet and Hubbard comment on Horace, C. 1.24.3, the assignment of provinces to the Muses ‘was still vague’ among Roman poets until after the Augustan period. [5] Others argue that, on the contrary, the erotic Muse is a fitting patroness for the horrida bella of Aeneid 7-12 because, as Williams most succinctly puts it, ‘the whole conflict about to be described arises from Turnus’ refusal to give up his bride Lavinia to the Trojan stranger.’ [6]

As all agree, the correspondence between Apollonius’ Εἰ δ’ ἄγε νῦν Ἐρατώ and Virgil’s Nunc age… Erato is too exact to be coincidental. The echo’s significance, however, has proven contentious. Scholars stressing the erotic aspect of Virgil’s Muse argue that the Apollonian inter-text encodes the etymological and thematic justifications for the poet’s choice. Etymological, because at Argonautica 3.5, the ἐπήρατον οὔνομα is explicitly joined to Erato. [8] Thematic, because the erotic Muse’s power over ἀδμῆτας παρθενικάς at Argonautica 3.3-5 foreshadows Lavinia’s description at Aeneid 7.53: iam matura uiro, iam plenis nubilis annis (now ripe for a husband, now fit with full years to wed). [9] Nor, according to this approach, does Erato’s amatory influence pertain only to the emerging ‘love triangle’ between Aeneas, Lavinia, and Turnus. Pavlock, for instance, asserts that the inter-textual link with Medea evokes the ‘problematic female sexuality and social chaos’ exemplified by Aeneas’ affair with Dido, Amata’s mirus amor for Turnus (Aeneid 7.57) and her ensuing Bacchic rampage with the matres Latinae (Aeneid 7.373-405). [10] In a related vein, Fernandelli argues that the invocation establishes continuity between the poem’s ‘Odyssean’ and ‘Iliadic’ halves by signaling the abiding role of passion, especially but not exclusively the wrath of Juno, in driving the epic narrative. [11]

When Aeneas and Turnus finally meet for their long-postponed duel in Aeneid 12, Jupiter likewise weighs their fata (Aeneid 12.723-7):

The implications of the Homeric inter-text for our understanding of the poet’s narrative are manifold, and have accordingly received much critical attention. [25] For the purposes of this study, however, it is sufficient to note that for Virgil, Homeric κῆρε in this instance are represented by Latin fata. Moreover, the poet’s compression of his Homeric source material appears to fuse Hector’s κήρ at Iliad 22.210 with the hero’s αἴσιμον ἧμαρ at Iliad 22.213—a formula previously linked with Turnus’ fata at Aeneid 12.149-50. [26] Like Apollonius with αἶσαν / ἔμμορες at Argonautica 3.3-4, therefore, Virgil collapses two Homeric terms for ‘lot’ into a single phrase, both of which are conveyed by Latin fata.

For Turnus, a smilar moment of recognition occurs before Jupiter’s weighing of the scales in Aeneid 12 (Aeneid 12.676-80):

Again, Virgil’s adaptation substantially compresses the themes found in the Homeric inter-text. While Hector wishes to die not ‘without struggle or glory, / but by doing some great deed for posterity,’ Turnus tells Juturna that she will not see him ‘disgraced further.’ Whereas the Homeric hero attributes his impending death to the will of ‘Zeus and his far-darting son,’ the Rutulian substitutes Fortuna for Apollo. Still, the heroes’ remarks on death and fate exhibit striking similarities. Turnus’ quidquid acerbi est, morte at Aeneid 12.678-9 recalls Hector’s θάνατος κακός at Iliad 22.300. More importantly, the Virgilian hero’s iam iam fata, soror, superant at Aeneid 12.676 echoes the Homeric νῦν αὖτέ με μοῖρα κιχάνει at Iliad 22.303. In this case, then, Turnus’ fata evoke not Hector’s κήρ, but his μοῖρα. [27]

As he narrates his own version of the Iliupersis in Aeneid 2, Aeneas glosses the Homeric passage in the wake of Laocoon’s warnings, which the priest punctuates by hurling his spear into the horse (Aeneid 2.54-6):

In the Homeric passage, Troy’s αἶσα is fixed on the city’s destruction, which derives explicitly from its reception of the horse. In Aeneas’ contrafactual recapitulation, the fata deum preside over the Argives’ success in evading detection, which along with Sinon’s duplicity results in the horse’s transferal within the city walls, and hence Troy’s downfall. Like κήρ and μοῖρα, then, Homeric αἶσα also finds equivalent expression in Virgil’s fata.

As has long been recognized, Virgil’s first proem iconically encapsulates his epic’s quid by charting its action between the genitives Troiae at Aeneid 1.1 and Romae at Aeneid 1.7. [29] Between them are presented the conflicting divine forces that drive the epic narrative, namely the fatum that compels Aeneas from Troy toward Latium, and Juno’s ira, which constantly works against Rome’s preordained foundation. Moreover, in a particularly elegant instance of epic compression, the poem’s ‘Odyssean’ and ‘Iliadic’ halves are summarized by the iactatus and passus clauses at Aeneid 1.3-4 and Aeneid 1.5-6, respectively. [30] This latter clause is expanded by Virgil in the proem to Aeneid 7, whose position near the outset of the epic’s ‘Iliadic’ half closely mirrors the first proem’s placement at the commencement of its ‘Odyssean’ narrative. [31] Thus, the horrida bella announced at Aeneid 7.41 recapitulate the bellum foreshadowed at Aeneid 1.5, just as Latio antiquo at Aeneid 7.38 evokes the Latio of Aeneid 1.6.

Here, Venus reminds Jupiter of his promise that from Aeneas and his Trojan refugees ‘would spring the Romans, the generals who from Teucer’s reborn blood would hold the ocean and whole earth in their sway.’ This pledge, as she asserts at Aeneid 1.238-9, has been her sole consolation for Troy’s downfall; as she understands Jupiter’s promise, the contraria fata responsible for the city’s destruction are counterbalanced by the fata that will ultimately give rise to Rome. For this to come about, however, her Aeneas (Aeneid 1.231: meus Aeneas) must reach Italy, an outcome that the goddess now doubts in the wake of her son’s shipwreck. Thus, Venus’ very first words in the Aeneid demonstrate her overriding concern with the allotted destiny that, as Virgil announces in his first proem, will bring her son ‘to Italy and Lavinian shores.’

The inextricable link between Venus’ lot and the fata of her descendants is elegantly encapsulated by Jupiter’s pronouncement at Aeneid 1.257-8, manent immota tuorum / fata tibi. As Commager notes, ‘tibi, usually dismissed as a mere ethical dative—‘I’ll tell you,’ ‘you’ll see’—is not without its force.’ [33] On the contrary, the dative explicitly involves Venus in her descendants’ fata, which her father proceeds to relate. [34] But rather than unrolling the fatorum arcana to Aeneas’ wanderings as they are presented in Books 1-6, Jupiter instead commences his prophesy with the bellum ingens in Italy that occupies the poem’s second half. Thus, the immota… fata of Venus’ descendants as ordained by Jupiter at Aeneid 1.261-6 consist of precisely those events over which Erato presides at Aeneid 7.37-45. Indeed, Virgil’s maius opus moueo at Aeneid 7.45 echoes Jupiter’s own uoluens fatorum arcana mouebo at Aeneid 1.262; like the king of the gods before him, the poet sets Aeneas’ fata in motion, with Erato’s help.

Almost immediately after stating his name, origin, and destination, Aeneas asserts that he has been able to follow his data fata because his ‘goddess mother showed the way.’ In a particularly witty reversal, Venus then proceeds to interpret the omen of the twelve swans for her son, concluding her augury with the enjoinder at Aeneid 1.401, perge modo et, qua te ducit uia, derige gressum (just press on, and go where the way leads you). Thus, Virgil doubly emphasizes Venus’ role in guiding her son along the uia prescribed by his ‘granted fates.’

Venus of course knows from her prior conversation with Jupiter that Aeneas is destined to reach Italy, where he will wage his bellum ingens and lay the foundations for the reigns of Iulus, Romulus, and Augustus. Here, however, she claims to be ‘at fate’s mercy, uncertain if Jove wants one city for the Tyrians and Trojan refugees.’ Again, the goddess’ obsession with her descendants’ fata preoccupies her to the point that she cites it as a plausible motivation for joining forces with Juno. As Austin observes, ‘it is the existence of Fate and its possibilities that makes Venus feign such doubts.’ [35]

After enumerating her many grievances against Juno, Venus again returns to the subject of the Trojans’ fates as she finally states her plea (Aeneid 5.796-8):

Here, Venus refers not to the fata that Juno defies at Aeneid 5.784, but rather to the Parcae who, in Virgil’s cosmology, are ‘harmonious in the unchanging power of the fates’ (Eclogues 4.47: concordes stabili fatorum numine Parcae). [36] While Venus does not explicitly invoke the Trojans’ fata as she does at the outset of her speech, therefore, she nevertheless concludes her request much as she begins it, by emphasizing her personal investment in the Trojans’ destiny as allotted by the Parcae.

Here, in one of the poem’s most memorable passages, Virgil takes pains to reiterate that the objects of Aeneas’ wonder are the dona parentis, ‘his mother’s gifts.’ That they depict the fata of their mutual descendants is no coincidence, since as we have seen, these have been Venus’ obsession from her very first appearance in the poem. Moreover, the shield and other armaments provided by Venus are the instruments of Aeneas’ conquest of Latium; as such, they play a crucial role in the horrida bella over which Erato presides. Thus, as skillfully as Vulcan himself, the poet forges yet another link between Venus, her descendants’ fata, and the Apollonian Muse.

Here, the Rutulian argues that ‘the gods’ fatal oracles’ may have prescribed Aeneas’ arrival in Latium, but not his victory—hence his claim that ‘enough has been granted to Venus and the fates.’ As mistaken as this interpretation is, Turnus nevertheless displays a correct understanding of the forces arrayed against him. Again, it is Venus who presides over the fata that compel Aeneas toward his victory in Latium, and her descendants’ future preeminence.

Here, in a diatribe whose careful deployment of rhetoric has often been noted by commentators, Venus ironically dares Jupiter to go back on the pledge whose details he unfolded at Aeneid 1.257-96. [37] Again, the goddess argues that the Trojans were destined to seek out Italy, and that no one, not even Jupiter himself, can create new fata for them. [38] Indeed, Venus’ obsession with her descendants’ fata is amply demonstrated by her (again ironic) request that she be permitted to ‘remove Ascanius from the fray safe and sound’ and that Jupiter at least ‘let [her] grandson survive’ (Aeneid 10.46-7: liceat dimittere ab armis / incolumem Ascanium, liceat superesse nepotem). Thus, Aeneas’ mother concludes her speaking role in the Aeneid much as she begins it, by fiercely advocating the fata responsible for her son’s arrival in Italy, where the horrida bella overseen by Erato unfold.

Here we find no mention of Lavinia’s impending marriage, although as Latinus’ subsequent consultation of Faunus’ oracle makes clear, this is of course at the root of the problem. Instead, the portent’s interpreters stress Lavinia’s glorious connection with Aeneas’ fate, which likewise ordains the magnum bellum for which Virgil invokes Erato’s aid just a few lines earlier.

Echoing Jupiter’s promise to Venus in Book 1 that her ‘descendants’ fates remain unmoved’ (Aeneid 1.257-8: manent immota tuorum / fata tibi), Juno here admits that ‘Lavinia remains [Aeneas’] wife, unmoved by fate’ (Aeneid 7.314: atque immota manet fatis Lauinia coniunx). Thus, she concedes the crucial role that Lavinia plays in the fata of Aeneas, even while she unleashes the war that will delay their destined marriage—the war over which Erato presides.