MISSING PERSONS: CHARACTER, CONTEXT, AND OVIDIAN POETICS

by

REINA ERIN CALLIER

B.A., University of California at San Diego, 2006

M.A., University of Colorado at Boulder, 2010

A dissertation submitted to the

Faculty of the Graduate School of the

University of Colorado in partial fulfillment

of the requirement for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophy

Department of Classics

2015

This thesis entitled:

Missing Persons: Character, Context, and Ovidian Poetics

written by Reina E. Callier

has been approved for the Department of Classics

Carole E. Newlands, Professor

Jackie Elliott, Associate Professor

Date

The final copy of this thesis has been examined by the signatories, and we

Find that both the content and the form meet acceptable presentation standards

Of scholarly work in the above mentioned discipline.

iii

Callier, Reina Erin (Ph.D, Classics)

Missing Persons: Character, Context, and Ovidian Poetics

Thesis directed by Professor Carole E. Newlands

Though ostensibly a poem meant to explicate the Roman calendar and its attendant

religious festivals under the Caesars, Ovid’s Fasti elevates certain non-Augustan religious and

historical figures to surprising heights. This dissertation investigates three such characters:

Remus, Hersilia, and Carmentis. All three of these characters are somewhat minor figures in the

art and literature of Ovid’s time, and have little – if any – connection to the religious contexts

into which Ovid inserts them. A comparison with the traditional accounts of these characters

(both literary and material) shows that Ovid utilizes their relative absence elsewhere to construct

a new narrative about them that represents and articulates his own elegiac poetic “programme” in

the face of the famous artistic and political “programme” of Augustus. Ovid’s concerns – the

feminine voice, the perspective of the historical “other,” and elegiac poetry’s alternative views

on morality – are personified through these characters, and their unprecedented promotion to

divinity (or, in Remus’ case, the unprecedented suggestion of his potential divinity) not only

questions the Augustan rhetoric of political apotheosis but also suggests Ovid’s elevation of his

own poetry to immortality.

Dedicated to my husband, Kris, whose love and support made everything not only easier

but also more worthwhile, and to my late grandmother, Nancy, who inspired the love of

Classics in me in the first place.

v

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I owe many thanks to the people who helped me conceive of, shape, and finish this

project, as well as to those who provided me with guidance in other forms. First and foremost, to

Carole Newlands, whose seemingly tireless feedback on the document itself and constant moral

support were paramount in the conception and completion of the dissertation and the doctorate as

a whole. The input of my other readers, Jackie Elliott, Peter Knox, Diane Conlin, Lauri

Reitzammer, and Anne Lester – all of whom presented different and interesting perspectives on

my work - is deeply appreciated, too. I could not have finished my work without the financial

support I received from the University, both through teaching positions and through two separate

fellowships (through the Graduate School and the Center for the Humanities and Arts,

respectively). Finally, I must mention the friends and family members whose encouragement

and advice kept me going: Jennifer Starkey, who (most importantly) is a great friend, but also,

having recently completed her own dissertation when I was working on mine, was an invaluable

resource; my husband Kris, who manfully put up with my lack of free time and provided

emotional support, humor, and a listening ear; and my family, whose love has always been

integral to my academic success.

vi

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. INTRODUCTION……………………………………............1

II. REMUS……………………………………………….………34

III. HERSILIA…………………………………………................101

IV. CARMENTIS...………………………………………............152

V. CONCLUSION………..…………………………..................222

BIBLIOGRAPHY ……..………………………………………………...227

APPENDICES

I. Remus………………..…………………………………...240

II. Hersilia……………………………………………... ……266

III. Carmentis……………………………………………...…277

IMAGES ………………………………………………………………...293

1

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

One of the fascinating things about Ovid’s Fasti is its surprising selection of material.

Indeed, in his study of Ovid’s manipulation of mythology in the Fasti, Murgatroyd notes that “on

several occasions Ovid gives characters a prominence which was new or at least rare as far as we

can tell from surviving literature. As well as providing a surprising twist and an enlivening focus

for old stories, this process often involves ingenuity and complexity.”1 Ovid’s focus on less

prominent characters in literary or historical tradition is by no means shocking, given the way his

predecessors in the field of aetiological elegy, in particular Callimachus’ Aitia and Propertius’ 4th

Book,2 often privilege the obscure; nevertheless, the effects of this focus in the Fasti, a poem so

inextricably connected with its social and political context, ought to be considered. In “Missing

Persons: Character, Context, and Ovidian Poetics,” I explore how Ovid manipulates some of the

underrepresented characters of his time – Remus, Hersilia, and Carmentis – in comparison with

their limited literary and iconographic representation elsewhere, and I argue that the exploitation

of these characters constitutes not only a statement of elegiac poetic power but also a questioning

of the Augustan and post-Augustan “spin” on ideas of morality and imperial legitimacy.

Genre and the Fasti

1 Murgatroyd 2005: 144.

2 Other influences include Aratus and (possibly) Germanicus. Cf. Gee 2000.

2

Ovid’s aetiological elegy was heavily influenced by his predecessors, especially

Callimachus and Propertius, so much so that scholars have suggested that Ovid’s Fasti

transforms him into a Romanus Callimachus.3 As Miller has argued, Callimachus provided the

concept of a learned aetiological collection presented in a “striking personal manner,”4 while

Propertius “seized on the aition as a way to reconcile his Callimachean principles and Maecenas’

request for poems with an Augustan orientation.”5 Propertius, too, seems to have modeled for

Ovid the “patriotic persona” (i.e., the solemn tone to match the more solemn subject matter) that

is combined with the playful nature of Callimachean aetiology, with the result that certain

characters (like Hercules in Propertius 4.9) are treated with humor and wit.6 Ovid integrated and

expanded on the work of both poets: like Propertius, he takes on “serious” Roman themes and

adopts an explicitly didactic persona;7 like Callimachus, his project comprises several books and

includes information about religious rituals.8 Yet his choice of the Roman calendar as a means

of organization and his use of a wide variety of sources, including his personal experience and

people whom he claims to have met on the street,9 are some of the things that mark his work as

different from that of his predecessors.

3According to Boyd 1997: 3, the Fasti give us Ovid’s transformation into a Romanus Callimachus,

interweaving the myths, rituals, and religious lore of early Rome into a web that is ostensibly arbitrarily organized

around the Roman calendar but that in fact offers us our most extended glimpse into the politics of poetry during

Ovid’s career. This subject matter is also interrupted by episodes involving astronomy, most likely influenced by

Aratus (Gee 2000).

4 Miller 1982: 374.

5 Miller 1982: 380.

6 Miller 1982: 386-9.

7 Miller 1982: 406.

8 Miller 1982: 400.

9 Miller 1982: 401-2.

3

Ovid’s own elegiac past also influences his presentation of the calendrical subject matter

found in his Fasti, as he himself emphasizes when he admits in the prologue to Book 2 that his

apparently serious project (the Roman calendar) is complicated by his metrical choice – elegiacs

– and his own previous history with this meter:

nunc primum velis, elegi, maioribus itis:

exiguum, memini, nuper eratis opus.

ipse ego vos habui faciles in amore ministros, 5

cum lusit numeris prima iuventa suis.

idem sacra cano signataque tempora fastis:

ecquis ad haec illinc crederet esse viam?

(Fast. 2.3-8)

Now for the first time you go with greater sails, elegiacs: until recently you were, I

remember, a minor work. I myself used you as easy helpers in love, when my first youth

played in its verses. Now I, the same man, sing of rites and the times marked as fasti:

who could believe that the path would lead from there to here?10

This “literary introduction” in the prologue to Book 2 addresses the Fasti’s generic positioning,

whereas the prologue to Book 1 concerns itself with the work’s subject matter (arae vs. arma).11

The contrast between maioribus and exiguum that Ovid presents in lines 3-4 refers not only to

the length of the Fasti in comparison to most (famously slender) elegiac works, but also to the

lofty subject matter that tackles religious, political, and social concerns. At Fast. 2.7-9, Ovid

transposes the familiar metaphor of militia amoris to the field of his new antiquarian research.

This metaphor, which countered arma with amor as the “duty” of the Roman citizen, is found

10 All translations of Ovid throughout the main text of this dissertation are my own.

11 See pp.9-11 below. Robinson 2011: 51-54 summarizes the scholarship on the relationship of the two

prologues to each other and their significance for our understanding of the circumstances under which the poem was

composed. Merli 2000: 19 argues that this contrast between arae and arma, which highlights “poetry as

peace…provides a better link between the calendrical poem and earlier Roman elegy” than “the erotic and

sentimental.”

4

throughout the love elegies of Tibullus, Propertius, and Ovid himself.12 Thus he indicates that in

the elegiac Fasti he is both the “same” and different, positioned opposite the militia of martial

epic but focused on matters of religion rather than love. Though Ovid’s incredulous question

(ecquis…crederet – “who could believe?” Fast. 2.8) at first seems disingenuous, given the

precedents of Callimachus’ elegiac Aitia and Propertius’ aetiological elegies in Book 4, his point

is still a good one. Looking at Ovid’s career, where elegiacs were a space in which to play (lusit,

Fast. 2.6) with erotic subject matter - so much so that he was perhaps banished for the

inappropriate nature of these elegiacs in a time of moral restrictions and religious revival - the

new lofty subject matter does come as a bit of a surprise. In truth, Ovid’s description of the

Roman calendar is less a report and more of a reinterpretation, full of wit and eroticism and

puzzling Ovidian invention. Comic stories of attempted rape, arguments between deities, and

episodes drawn from the stage clash with temples’ foundings, historical events, and Caesarian

achievements. Prominent Augustan characters, like Romulus and Aeneas, become buffoons:

Romulus is mocked for his lack of calendrical intelligence and Aeneas is portrayed as a helpless

husband in the story of Lavinia’s jealousy towards Anna.13 In short, the Fasti was never meant

to be a religious handbook, though the dearth of other sources led to its use as such for many

years.14 Rather, it is a clever incorporation of “Ovidian” elegy into the sort of material that

12 Tib. 1.175f., 3.63f., 10.53f., 2.6.5f.; Prop. 2.1.45f., 2.7.15-18, 2.14.23f., 3.5.1f., 3.8.29-34; Ovid Am. 1.9,

2.18.11-12, 3.7.68, Ars 2.233, 674). On this passage see Miller 1991: 16-21 and Robinson 2011: 51-56, 63-64.

13 On Romulus’ uneducated founding of the year - tempora digereret cum conditor Urbis, in anno/constituit

menses quinque bis esse suo./scilicet arma magis quam sidera, Romule, noras,/curaque finitimos vincere maior erat

(Fast. 1.27-30) – “When the founder of the city was organizing the calendar, he decided that there would be ten

months in his year. Obviously you knew war better than stars, Romulus, and your concern about conquering your

neighbors was greater.” For Aeneas in the story of Anna, see Fast. 3.601-656.

14 It is often cited, for example, in religious scholars’ explanations of Roman rituals and their origins. Dumezil

1966 and Scullard 1981 use passages from Ovid’s Fasti as evidence for behaviors that supposedly took place in the

Parilia and Lemuria; Frazer’s 1928 commentary, too, addresses mostly religious and anthropological matters.

5

seems better suited to dactylic hexameter (as Ovid implies in the passage above), an ambitious

project that often presents a new interpretation of the life and behaviors of the Roman people.15

The distinction between “elegy” and “epic” when it comes to subject matter and stylistic

representation has been a frequent topic of scholarly debate. For Heinze, the distinction was a

fairly rigid one; he famously based his work Ovids elegische Erzählung on such assumptions,

using the story of the rape of Proserpina, told in both the Metamorphoses and the Fasti, as a

clear-cut example:

Ovid has in the two versions of his story juxtaposed examples of two types of poetic

narrative, fully aware of each other. In the Metamorphoses-narrative there are strong

active emotions, sudden love and sudden anger, in the Fasti-narrative there are softer

emotions, painful action and compassion. In the Metamorphoses the divine majesty of

the characters is deliberately increased; in the Fasti divinity becomes humanized. The

descriptions of the Metamorphoses prefer the grandiose, the Fasti prefers idyllic

domesticity. The style of the narrative preserves a certain solemn dignity; that of the

Fasti is vivid, active; the one holds strongly to the objectivity of the rhapsodes; the Fasti

lets the personality of the narrator and his present circumstance become more prominent.

Is the difference between the two narratives described a general difference between the

Metamorphoses and Fasti? And may we therefore opposed the narrative style of the

Fasti as elegy to that of the Metamorphoses as epic?16

15 C. Robert Phillips III 1992: 64-5 attempts to redefine Ovid’s purpose: “Ovid seems to have set out to

accomplish two things. First, through selection and arrangement of particular calendar items, he sought to convey

his particular interpretation of Roman religion. The second point follows: through the way he recounted those items

Ovid deepened his interpretation of contemporary Roman religion as it resonated with received traditions. Thus we

should not measure Ovid against extant calendars, or handbook syntheses – rather, we should use them as points of

departure for the tracing of his interpretation of pre-Augustan and Augustan religion.”

16 Heinze 1960: 314-5. “Ovid hat in den beiden Redaktionen seiner Geschichte Beispiele zweier Typen der

poetischen Erzählung, offenbar mit vollem Bewusstsein, einander gegenübergestellt. In der

Metamorphosenerzählung herrschen starke active Affekte, jähe Liebe und jäher Zorn, in der Fastenerzählung

weichere Empfindungen, schmerzliche Klage und Mitleid. In den Metamorphosen ist die göttliche Majestät der

Personen geflissentlich gesteigert; in den Fasten wird die Gottheit vermenschlicht. Die Schilderung der

Metamorphosen bevorzugt das Grandiose, die der Fasten das idyllisch Anheimelnde. Der Stil der Erzählung wahrt in

den Metamorphosen eine gewisse feierliche Würde; den der Fasten ist lebendiger, beweglicher; jener hält streng fest

an der Objektivität der Rhapsoden; die Fasten lassen die Persönlichkeit des Erzählers und seinen

Gegenwartsstandpunkt mehr hervortreten. Ist der geschilderte Unterschied der beiden Erzählungen ein genereller

Unterschied zwischen Metamorphosen und Fasten? Und dürfen wir sonach den Erzählungsstil der Fasten als

elegischen dem epischen der Metamorphosen gegenüberstellen?”

6

For Heinze, the answer to these questions is (generally) yes. And yet Heinze’s characterization

of the two poems seems to be an oversimplification: as Knox argues with regard to the

Metamorphoses, “Ovid’s debt to the epic tradition…is self-evident (as the poet intended), but the

epic elements are not the most significant aspect of the poem.”17 Rather, the episodic nature of

the poem and the erotic subject matter show how, in the Augustan age, “the poet was free to

select and combine elements from the entire range of his literary predecessors, and a single work

might routinely incorporate the diction, imagery or style of a variety of genres…The rules of

genre count, but only so that the reader may recognize when they are broken.”18 Even the

Aeneid, a work that is unquestionably epic, and whose first word, arma (A.1.1), becomes a

hallmark for declarations of generic affiliation, contains elegiac and neoteric elements.19

And elegy itself is not easily defined. The erotic elegy that we see in Tibullus, Propertius

Books 1-3, and Ovid’s Amores and Heroides is strikingly different from the Callimachean

aetiological elegy found in Propertius Book 4 and Ovid’s Fasti, as Barbara Boyd argues:

It is almost as if we had in the Amores and the Fasti the two ‘sides’ of Ovid, so to speak,

the one using the erotic traditions of elegy both to articulate and to ambulate a political

stance, the other working from a matrix of political and social issues and conventions to

articulate an unconventional and complex poetic identity.20

17 Knox 1986: 6. Hinds 1987, though his study, too, investigates the “epic” vs. “elegiac” characteristics of the

two versions of the Proserpina story, softens Heinze’s formal distinctions.

18 Knox 1986: 1.

19 A glance at Austin’s 1977 commentary on Aeneid 6, for example, reveals the Catullan allusions that are

peppered throughout that book, including a near-quotation of a Catullan line at 6.460 that defies the easy

dichotomies between elegy and epic. Vergil’s Dido, too, seems to be an elegiac reimagining of the “historical” Dido

known from previous works. See Desmond 1994: 23-73 on the relationship between the “historical” Dido and

Vergil’s Dido. She notes that “[Dido’s] sexual desire and her amorous enslavement to Aeneas are depicted in

pathological terms throughout book 4; desire manifests in wounds (A. 4.2,67) and inflames her to madness (A.

4.300-301),” and that this sort of language is typical of the stereotypical elegiac lover”(30-31). Indeed, Dido’s

representation in the Aeneid makes her the perfect subject matter for Ovid’s Ep. 7, where her lament is expanded.

20 Boyd 1997: 17.

7

Yet as Ovid’s own constant reminders of his poem’s elegiac status suggest (for example, in the

prologues at Fast. 1.1-2, 13-14, and 2.7-9),21 the choice of elegiac meter is not insignificant.

Perhaps the most distinct expression of the problem occurs at Fast. 2.123-6, where the poet

narrator reveals the generic frustration (whether genuine or ironic) inherent in his project:

deficit ingenium, maioraque viribus urgent:

haec mihi praecipuo est ore canenda dies.

quid volui demens elegis imponere tantum

ponderis? heroi res erat ista pedis...

(Fast. 2.123-6)

My talent fails me, and things greater than my strength urge me on: this day must be sung

by me with a special mouth. Why did I, insane, wish to put so much weight on elegiacs?

That subject matter belonged to the heroic meter...

As Boyd puts it, “a Roman poet tells us something of great value about his aims and

purpose by his choice of form; and we are right to expect in turn that the style and content of, for

example, elegy will differ greatly from that of, for example, epic.”22 Though Boyd’s focus is on

the erotic Amores, and the Fasti, as aetiological elegy, can be expected to contain significant

differences from its erotic predecessors, my point is that considering the generic implications of

Ovid’s detailed treatment of certain characters is by no means unwarranted. While genre alone

cannot explain a poem’s style, diction, and narrative, it can suggest tendencies that inform the

21 Robinson 2011: 5.

22 Boyd 1997: 14. She further notes that the recusatio would not be such a common trope of Augustan poetry

were this not the case.

8

reader’s expectations.23 For one thing, erotic elegy is often the poetry of “dissent,”24 and for

many scholars, the Fasti, though not erotic elegy, continues this tendency with its unusual

treatment of Augustan monuments and events.25 If the choice of elegiac meter suggests a

particular stance toward contemporary social and political ideologies, it is fair to explore how

genre can have implications for the understanding of the work in its larger social and political

context (as, indeed, many other scholars have done).

The Politics of Time in the Fasti

In addition to situating Ovid’s Fasti in its generic context, we must consider it in its

political context, since it takes as its subject matter a quintessentially political topic: the Roman

calendar and its attendant religious rites and celebrations.

When Ovid began writing the Fasti in the early years of our era (though he continued

writing it into the beginning of Tiberius’ reign),26 the civil wars that had plagued Rome for so

long had been ended – definitively - more than 30 years before, and the city brimmed with the

promise of peace and gleamed with new and restored monuments.27 Augustus had revamped

23As Hinds 1987: 117 puts it, “…in the Fasti, where this universal interest in genre manifests itself with unusual

explicitness, any tendencies which can be read as elegiac will be read as elegiac, whatever other, non-generic lines

of interpretation they may admit too. And, equally importantly, the presence in the Fasti of elements which tend to

epic rather than to elegiac norms does not undermine the genre-based approach, but actually constitutes an important

part of it: the poem’s generic self-consciousness is expressed not just in observance but also in creative transgression

of the expected bounds of elegy.”

24 Boyd 1997: 7.

25 Hinds 1992; Barchiesi 1997; Newlands 1995. Boyd 1997: 17 calls it the articulation of an “unconventional

and complex poetic identity” (see block quotation above).

26 Knox 2004.

27 Suetonius Augustus 29-30; in Augustus’ Res Gestae 19-20, he claims to have rebuilt 82 temples of the gods

specifically (Duo et octoginta templa deum in urbe consul sextum ex decreto senatus refeci; 20.17-18), and to have

built numerous temples also from scratch (19).

9

traditional Roman religion, bringing new life to old practices; the city was full of gods,

especially the emperor’s favorites. Marriage and reproduction were celebrated, and the moral

legislation enacted by the emperor made it clear that the corruption that had characterized the

Roman nobility for so many years was no longer acceptable. The completion of calendrical

revisions begun by Julius Caesar and the construction of monuments such as the Horologium in

the Campus Martius, together with the addition of new sacred days and festivals to the calendar

honoring the imperial family, reveal Augustus’ concern with control over time and its usefulness

in influencing social behavior.28

Ovid begins his Fasti with a promise to discuss the Roman calendar, astrological

phenomena, and the religious rites that are tied to the passage of the Roman year:

tempora cum causis Latium digesta per annum

lapsaque sub terras ortaque signa canam.

excipe pacato, Caesar Germanice, voltu

hoc opus et timidae derige navis iter,

officioque, levem non aversatus honorem, 5

en tibi devoto numine dexter ades.

sacra recognosces annalibus eruta priscis

et quo sit merito quaeque notata dies.

invenies illic et festa domestica vobis;

saepe tibi pater est, saepe legendus avus, 10

quaeque ferunt illi, pictos signantia fastos,

tu quoque cum Druso praemia fratre feres.

Caesaris arma canant alii: nos Caesaris aras

et quoscumque sacris addidit ille dies.

(Fast. 1.1-14)

The important times scattered throughout the Latin year with their causes and the

constellations that rise and fall under the earth I will sing. Caesar Germanicus, receive

this work with a peaceful countenance and steer the journey of my timid ship, and, not

spurning this slight honor, be present and propitious in your divinity to this duty vowed to

28 Feeney 2007: 184-197. Wallace-Hadrill 1987: 223 explains that Augustus inserted himself into three

different spheres of Roman time: “Three major monuments have survived, each of them both by ancient report and

in surviving fragments, in which Augustus was inserted into the heart of Roman ‘time’: the Parthian arch, the

Horologium and the Fasti of Praeneste. Three types of time are affected: historical time, celestial time, and calendar

time.”

10

you. You will recognize the rites unearthed from the ancient annals and for what reason

each day is marked as special. You will find here also the festivals pertaining to your

house; often you will read of your father, often you will read of your grandfather, and the

rewards they bear, rewards that mark the painted calendar, you also will bear with your

brother Drusus. Let others sing of the arms of Caesar: let us sing of Caesar’s altars, and

whatever days he added to the sacred rites.

Because the calendar was such an ideologically loaded subject in his time, Ovid’s

(re)interpretation of the calendar’s rituals, events, and religious figures is paramount to our

understanding of his poetic take on his social and political context. As Robinson puts it, “Any

work on the calendar is…by its nature highly political, whatever the particular interests of the

author.”29

Though Augustus seems to have attempted to consolidate and codify the Roman

calendar, Roman religion was still well-suited to the kind of experimentation and redefinition in

which Ovid engages in his Fasti. Scheid notes that “the Romans had no dogmatic tradition and

education, where the theological, historical or philosophical reasons for the cult and the existence

of the gods were revealed and fixed.”30 The Fasti, though in many ways unlike the works of

Varro, Verrius Flaccus, and Plutarch in its broader range of subject matter (e.g. astrology and

history), nonetheless also draws from the tradition of literary exegesis of religious practices.

But given the historical circumstances under which Ovid undertook this project, it is

difficult to attribute Ovid’s choices purely to literary experimentation, as Beard warns: “to talk

blithely of ‘no social function’ attached to the intellectual re-telling of such stories is to be

29 Robinson 2011: 10. He adds that “in writing the Fasti, Ovid is clearly aware of the extent to which the

calendar has become another face of the imperial domus.”

30 Scheid 1992: 122.

11

willfully blind to the operations of myth and mythic thinking within complex, ‘hot’ societies.”31

Why, then, did Ovid choose to represent the material in the way that he did?32

It can be dangerous to attempt to interpret an author’s works based on their biographical

circumstances, but is difficult not to do so with Ovid, whose biographical circumstances –

namely, his exile in 8 CE – make it clear that he and his poetry were somehow considered to be

“at odds” with the principate.33 Ovid himself imports his biographical circumstances into the

Fasti when he mentions his exile at Fast. 4.79-83;34 this opens the door to a consideration on the

exile’s effect on his work. For example, some scholars suggest that the passages of the Fasti that

seem to flatter the imperial family imply that Ovid was trying to buy his way back into Rome.35

On the other hand, Ovid’s displeasure at his biographical circumstances can also justify a reading

that suggests distrust of the Augustan and Tiberian regimes. Feeney even suggests that

Augustus’ (or Tiberius’) attempt to silence Ovid’s poetic voice through exile is reflected by the

deliberate shortening of the Fasti from the originally intended 12 months to 6 months;36 by

31 Beard 1993: 57-8.

32 As O’Gorman 1997: 103 reminds us, quoting Salman Rushdie: “Every story one chooses to tell is a kind of

censorship, it prevents the telling of other tales.”

33 Though some scholars have questioned the reality of Ovid’s exile, most scholars accept it as truth not only

that Ovid was exiled in 8 CE but also that he revised significant portions of his already-in-progress Fasti (and

perhaps the Metamorphoses) once he was there. See, for example, Herbert-Brown 1994, who attempts (among other

things) to locate passages in the Fasti that underwent revision due to changing historical circumstances (Ovid’s

exile, Augustus’ death, etc). So, too, Fantham 2005. Martelli 2013 takes the fact of post-exilic revision for granted,

thereby suggesting that the reality of Ovid’s exile must have influenced works such as the Metamorphoses and the

Fasti.

34 huius erat Solymus Phrygia comes unus ab Ida,/a quo Sulmonis moenia nomen habent,/Sulmonis gelidi,

patriae, Germanice, nostrae./me miserum, Scythico quam procul illa solo est!/ergo ego tam longe – sed supprime,

Musa, querellas! “He had one comrade, Solymus, from Phrygian Ida, from whom the walls of Sulmo take their

name, icy Sulmo, our fatherland, Germanicus./Wretched me, how far that land is from the Scythian

territory!/Therefore I, too, am so far – but restrain, Muse, your complaints!”

35 Fantham 2005, Herbert-Brown 1994.

36 Feeney 2006.

12

cutting short the work that was ostensibly intended as a celebration of Caesar’s calendar, Ovid

might be not only flexing his poetic muscles by showing that he is just as much in control of a

redefinition of the calendar as the Caesarian family is (and that in his version there is no place for

the months that explicitly celebrate that family, namely July and August) but also emphasizing

the consequences of his exile, i.e. the unfinished status of his great calendrical work.37

Nevertheless, the passages that show imperial ideologies in a less flattering light or that

suggest “alternative” readings of such ideologies do not necessarily need to be read solely as

reflections of the exiled poet’s bitterness. From the beginning of his career, Ovid had tested the

boundaries of what was politically appropriate, from his abortion poems in the Amores to the

eroto-didactic Ars Amatoria, which explicitly encouraged behavior that was condemned by

Augustus’ moral legislation. Ovid’s clever re-appropriation of Rome’s monuments begins in the

Ars, too, though in that work the monuments are reclaimed for erotic purposes,38 while in the

Fasti this re-appropriation often consists of a complex or less common reading of the historical

circumstances that led to that monument’s founding. Thus a reading of Ovid’s works that

emphasizes Ovid’s complex relationship with the ideologies of his time is not one that needs to

rely on the reality of the poet’s exile, nor do we need to distinguish between pre- and post-exilic

passages in order to suggest that certain passages have political significance.39

37 Martelli 2013: 139.

38 As at Ars 1.67-88, where porticoes, the theater, temples, and the Circus are all listed as locations for erotic

sport.

39 Even passages such as Carmentis’ consolation of the exiled Evander (Fast. 1.479-496), though they are often

read as reflective of Ovid’s own exile poetry and an expression of the poet’s “real” feelings towards his

circumstances (and perhaps rightly so, given the similarities in language between the exile poetry and these lines;

see Fantham 1992: 168 and Green 2004: 221), can, as we will see, take significance simply from the fact that they

are the type of poetry that a poet such as Ovid might write to a character (including himself) in such circumstances.

13

The opening of the Fasti (1.1-14, pp.9-10 above) invites us to read the work within its

political milieu: Ovid will sing of the Roman calendar, but not simply the ancient Roman

calendar as it had been established during the Republic (sacra...annalibus eruta priscis, 1.7).

More important to his purposes, as he seems to want to please Germanicus (1.3-6), are the

changes imposed on the calendar by Germanicus’ family, the Caesars (1.9-14). Lines 13-14

make explicit the connection between the imperial family and Ovid’s theme: “The calendar had

only become a poetic theme at all because Augustus had transformed it.”40 Included in a

discussion of the calendar are also religious rituals (sacra, 1.7) and altars (aras, 1.13), the latter

of which can refer both to the actual physical monuments established or rebuilt by Augustus, of

which there were many,41 and, through metonymy, to the renewed focus on religion and

traditional values which Augustus fostered, for which there is countless evidence.42 The

restoration of religious rectitude was exemplified by the celebration of Aeneas, the proto-founder

of Rome and the Julian gens, who was characterized as pius by Vergil’s epic Aeneid.

The question of whether the poetic and political realms are separate is now moot. For

instance, Wallace-Hadrill writes:

We are setting up polarizations as dubious as those which characterized the old approach

to the imperial cult: was it religious or was it political? As if religion was less religious

for being political, or poetry less poetic for being political. Ideology must be seen as a

whole way of thought, a total value system; nobody can support a political system which

he cannot incorporate within the rest of his value system. The more fruitful question is

how successful the incorporation is. Augustus was too demanding to allow anyone’s

world to remain insulated from politics…Not a street corner could be passed, not a meal

40 Wallace-Hadrill 1987: 228.

41 Augustus himself describes these buildings in the Res Gestae 19-20. See note 25 above.

42 This evidence includes his moral legislation and the revamping of various temples and rituals, all of which he

seems to refer to when he states: Legibus novis latis complura exempla maiorum exolescentia iam ex nostro usu

revocavi et ipse multarum rerum exempla imitanda posteris tradidi (“By passing new laws, I restored many

traditions of the ancestors, which were falling into disuse in our age, and I myself handed down examples of many

things to be imitated in later generations”; Res Gestae 8.12-14).

14

served, not a sexual act entered upon, without reminders of his presence. No poet could

be unpolitical. Let us not ask what Ovid’s purpose was, and whether he meant it…but

how Augustus and other Romans would have received the Fasti.43

Ovid’s focus on religious rites and monuments interacts directly with some of the more potent

political topics of his day, especially the Roman calendar itself, and his manipulation of this

calendar represents the flexing of his own poetic power.44

The Politics of Iconography in the Fasti

Ovid does not just interact with the socio-political trends of his day through a

manipulation of the calendar and a focus on religious and moral themes, however. He also

interacts directly with iconography from coins, monuments, and friezes, the means through

which Augustus and Tiberius communicated ideological themes to the Roman people.45 One

example of this appears in the Janus episode of Book 1, in which the poet/narrator engages

directly with a coin – a rare occurrence in Latin poetry:

“multa quidem didici: sed cur navalis in aera

altera signata est, altera forma biceps?”

“…causa ratis superset: Tuscum rate venit in amnem

ante pererrato falcifer orbe deus.

hac ego Saturnum memini tellure receptum

caelitibus regnis a Iove pulsus erat…”

(Fast. 1.229-238)

43 Wallace-Hadrill 1987: 222-223.

44 Martelli 2013: 139.

45 Hall 2014: 209-210 warns that “there often seems to be a latent unidirectionality in the causal relationship

posited between literary evidence and archaeology. Typically, though not universally, this takes the form of an

argument that archaeological evidence proves or refutes textual evidence, thus perpetuating the deep-seated and

long-held idea that archaeology is an ancillary discipline vis-à-vis history.” I hope to avoid the pitfalls of this kind

of unidirectionality in my consideration of material evidence in my interpretation of Ovid’s poetry. Indeed, I am not

arguing that any piece of material evidence “proves” or “disproves” my views on the Fasti; rather, I am suggesting

that material evidence can be a useful way of understanding the social milieu in which Ovid’s poetry was produced

and within which it must be read.

15

‘I have learned many things: but why on bronze is a ship stamped on one side, a two-

headed form on the other?’… ‘The cause of the ship remains: the sickle-bearing god

came to the Tuscan river on a ship once he had wandered over the world. I remember

that Saturn was received by this earth (he had been expelled from the celestial kingdoms

by Jove)...’

The bronze about which Ovid asks Janus is an as from the Republican period with Janus on the

obverse and a ship’s prow on the reverse. Though this coin originated long before Ovid’s time,46

he is still able to refer to it, suggesting that it was still in circulation during his lifetime. More

significantly, the ship’s prow is interpreted in purely mythological terms; this interpretation

appears to be not only unique to Ovid but also entirely unrelated to the original “message” of the

coin,47 which, according to Margarete Bieber, was “a reminder of the sea battles through which

Rome conquered all Italy.”48 In his discussion of a “pacifist god,”49 Ovid instead chooses a

reading of the image that hearkens back to the Saturnian Golden Age of peace that was so

popular in Augustan literature.50 Thus, though the iconography to which he refers is not

necessarily “Augustan” in that it was not commissioned by the emperor and his moneyers, it is

“Augustan” in that it was an image that was still prominent in Ovid’s time, and the poet exploits

46 According to Green 2004: 113, the earliest Janus/ship’s prow aes signatum appeared in 220 BCE.

47 “Ovid is the first extant author to mention the god’s [Saturn’s] arrival by boat and hence the first to entertain a

connection between this story and the as.” Green 2004: 114

48 Bieber 1973: 872. One may wonder, in fact, if the focus on naval military supremacy might still be foremost

in the Roman reader’s mind, given Augustus’ privileging of the naval battle at Actium in his ideology (which

privileging, as Gurval 1995 argues, may in reality have been influenced or inspired by Vergil’s Aeneid). Ovid was

writing the Fasti at a far remove from that fateful battle, however, and at even farther remove from the battle at

Naulochos in 36 BCE which led to Sextus Pompey’s defeat. It might seem too much of a stretch, then, to read

Augustus’ naval victories as having an ideological effect on this image. Nevertheless, Ovid clearly turns an image

of military power into an image of the ultimate age of peace.

49 Green 2004: 112. Hardie 1991 discusses Janus’ (somewhat ambiguous) presentation as a representative of

peace in Ovid’s “peaceful” poem.

50 The best example of which is, perhaps, Vergil’s 4th Eclogue (see Conte 1994: 267). The visual representation

of this pax Augusta is most salient in the Ara Pacis.

16

this fact in order to read into it a meaning that engages directly with Augustus’ emphasis on

peace and prosperity and accords with the poet’s own focus on “altars” rather than “arms.”

Yet the straightforward interpretation of this image as a peaceful one is complicated not

only by its original interpretation as an image of military might but also by the contradictory

elements in Janus’ presentation as the representative of peace throughout the Janus episode of

Book 1; Ovid’s interpretation of the coin, therefore, contributes to his construction of a narrative

that prods at the problematic aspects of the pax Augusta.51

Ovid interacts, too, with iconography explicitly commissioned by Augustus, perhaps

most notably in Book 5, when Mars surveys his temple in the Forum Augustum:

prospicit armipotens operis fastigia summi

et probat invictos summa tenere deos.

prospicit in foribus diversae tela figurae

armaque terrarum milite victa suo.

hinc videt Aenean oneratum pondere caro

et tot Iuleae nobilitatis avos:

hinc videt Iliaden humeris ducis arma ferentem,

claraque dispositis acta subesse viris.

spectat et Augusto praetextum nomine templum,

et visum lecto Caesare maius opus.

(Fast. 5.559-568)

[Mars] the strong-in-armor looks upon the pinnacles of the greatest work and approves

that unconquered gods hold the highest places. He looks upon weapons of diverse shape

on the doors and the arms of the lands conquered by his soldiers. On this side he sees

Aeneas, burdened by the dear weight and the many grandsons of Julian nobility: on this

side he sees the son of Ilia, bearing the arms of the leader on his shoulders, and the great

deeds placed below the arranged men. He sees also that the temple is inscribed with the

name of Augustus, and the work seems greater when he reads “Caesar.”

The descriptions of the images found in the temple – the inscriptions (5.567-568), friezes (5.561-

562) and the statues of the summi viri including those of Aeneas and Romulus, the two most

important founding figures in Augustan ideology – are based on what Ovid himself would have

51 Hardie 1991.

17

seen in that illustrious temple. Mars’ “reading” of the temple, then, represents a potential

reading by the Roman citizens on whose consciousness these images, with their prominent

placement, were etched. Favro even uses Fast. 5.559-568 as an example of “how the ancients

read environments”: Mars’ “reading” of these monuments “reveals the importance of images,

verbal signage, and experiential sequencing in conveying information. It also confirms the

shared knowledge base of the audience; the majority of people in Rome could identify the

figures displayed and their roles in complex Roman genealogies and myths. Furthermore, the

mere placement of images together…implied an underlying storyline.”52

Ovid is not shy about pointing out some of the problematic aspects of this storyline. The

temple to Mars Ultor had originally been vowed at the battle of Philippi in 42 BCE, when

Octavian fought against fellow Romans Brutus and Cassius. But by the time the temple was

dedicated 40 years later, the signa recaptured from the Parthians were displayed in the cella,

which Zanker calls “a convenient way of forgetting the association with the civil war.”53 The

potential discomfort inherent in placing a monument to the god of war within the pomerium is

suggested by the image on the pediment, which represents “the disarming of Mars,”54 as well as

the cult statue through which “the fatherly Mars [became] a guardian of peace.”55 So, too, Mars

must disarm before he is allowed to enter Ovid’s peaceful, elegiac poem:56

52 Favro 1996: 230. Luce 1990, in fact, suggests that there may have been influence from Livy’s historical

narrative and its focus on great men in both the conception and the execution of the statues in Forum, which was

completed in 2 BCE.

53 Zanker 1988: 195.

54 Zanker 1988: 196.

55 Zanker 1988: 200.

56 Ursini 2008: 67-69 presents an excellent summary on the scholarship that has been done on this generically

charged moment, where Ovid brings the god most “inimical to elegy” (Hinds 1992a: 89) into his elegiac poem.

18

Bellice, depositis clipeo paulisper et hasta,

Mars, ades et nitidas casside solve comas.

(Fast. 3.1-2)

Warlike Mars, putting down your spear and shield for a little while, be present and loosen

your shining locks from the helmet.

Yet in the passage from Book 5 (Fast. 5.559-68), Mars appears in his temple as the violent

conqueror, “powerful in arms” (armipotens, 5.559), reveling in his conquests. Ovid’s poem thus

highlights the tension between war and peace found in the Forum. According to Barchiesi,

“Ovid was trying a compromise with the god of March: Mars ades, and put down your arms.

This is echoed in May (or is it vice versa?) when the emperor prays ‘Mars ades, and bring about

a bloodbath.’ If we take the fabric of the text by those two extremes, the compromise between

the poet and the prince splits apart.”57 The warlike Mars is ill-suited to Ovid’s peaceful project,

just as (Ovid might suggest) he is ill-suited to the pax Augusta celebrated by other Augustan

monuments.58 Ovid’s intentional use of Roman topography and monuments to further his

readings of the religious and political issues of his day suggests that our reading of the Fasti

should take these monuments into account, too.

Another example of Ovid’s interaction with the images of Rome is his commentary on

the ubiquitous statues of the Lares:

bina gemellorum quaerebam signa deorum

viribus annosae facta caduca morae:

57 Barchiesi 2002: 17.

58 Newlands 1995: 123 suggests that Ovid uses this passage to highlight how uneasily the idea of Augustan

peace sat with the bloody warfare that was necessary to achieve this peace: “Read in isolation, the passage on Mars

Ultor presents itself as a totalizing discourse that provides a uniform view of war and revenge and reproduces the

concept of national identity as proudly male and martial. The structure of Book 5, however, reveals the competing

interests and impulses in Roman society itself. Read within the context of Book 5, the celebration of Rome’s

military strength in the passage on Mars Ultor emerges as partial and problematic. As the Fasti reaches a generic

and ethical crisis with the major entry of arma into the poem, Ovid reminds the reader of the complex issues of

ethics and gender that contributed to the shaping of Roman identity.”

19

mille Lares Geniumque ducis, qui tradidit illos,

urbs habet, et vici numina trina colunt.

(Fast. 5.143-146)

I was searching for the two-fold images of the twin gods which had become decayed by

the strength of yearlong time: the City has a thousand Lares together with the Genius of

our leader, who handed them to us, and the neighborhoods worship a three-fold divinity.

Ovid is looking for, but cannot find, the ancient Lares; instead, they have been replaced by new

sets of Lares, who now share their role as protectors of the city with the Genius of the emperor.59

The poet does not comment explicitly on the significance of this change,60 but as Feeney argues,

it is not difficult to find a compelling political statement in the juxtaposition of old and new:

If Augustus may often be read as trying to assert an identity and continuity of values

across the gulf of centuries between the Roman past and present, then Ovid regularly

opens up the fissures and reveals the gaps between the two sides of the comparison. A

telling example comes on the first day of May, when Ovid is looking for the old Lares

Praestites, whose day this is…Instead, Ovid finds, the old Lares have been ousted by the

new Lares Augusti, so that the day, with its cult, are no longer the same: what Augustus

might construe as a restoration of a link is presented by Ovid as an obstruction of access

to the past.61

Ovid thus reinterprets an image meant to connect Augustus to the Republican gods in a way that

emphasizes the disconnect between the two. The treatment of the Lares in Book 2 (Fast. 2.583-

616), which uniquely depicts them as products of rape and violence moves further in this

direction,62 giving the protectors of the city, who were now associated with Augustus’ family, a

59 The introduction of Augustus’ Genius into state cult occurred in 12 BCE (Taylor 1931: 152).

60 A change which might indeed have been truly significant: Littlewood 2006: xxxi-xxxii claims that

“Augustus’ reorganization of the cult of the Lares Compitales was a practical expedient to discourage political

demonstrations centred on the neighbourhoods, which had bedevilled Roman politics since the days of Clodius’

gangs. Behind this, however, there was a clear intention to attract to himself the loyalty of Rome’s underclass of

poor artisans, shopkeepers and freedmen.”

61 Feeney 2007: 160.

62 That is, probably uniquely (Robinson 2011: 374-376). No extant sources preserve this aspect of the story of

the Lares’ birth, and his invocation of “ancient old men” as the source, when “other aged informants in the poem are

perhaps not the most reliable,” is perhaps telling here (Robinson 2011: 377).

20

dark past at odds with Augustus’ focus on morality, one that associates them with the sinister

suppression of speech (through the removal of their mother Lara’s tongue).

Ovid’s interaction with the images and ideas of his time is both consistent and explicit,

and since he often manipulates these images in unprecedented ways (as with the Janus coin) or

comments on their manipulation (as with the statues of the Lares), it is difficult to argue that he

is merely a passive reporter on these images. Rather, the relationship between his poetry and the

“intended” meaning of these images (though that, too, is often difficult to pinpoint) is a complex

one, made especially difficult to uncover by the fact that the concepts of both “Augustanism” and

poetry’s ability to “respond” to Augustanism are difficult to pin down. “Augustan ideology”

should not, Miller warns, “suggest an utterly fixed ideology, which poets reflect in homage or

against which they react.”63 More and more, we are coming to understand that Augustus’

representation of himself was constantly changing, and that the poets could often influence this

change, suggesting less of a “master plan” on Augustus’ part and more of a “discourse” in which

contemporary writers could participate.64 And, of course, readers and viewers can offer a variety

of interpretations on even the simplest images and words.

At the same time, there is no question that “the victorious leader was in effect rewriting

Rome’s institutions and their attendant cultural symbols in his own image.”65 Nowhere was this

more obvious than in matters of cult:

As early as 29 B.C. a program of religious rebuilding was reclaimed. Octavian had

himself been commissioned by the Senate to bring the old priesthoods up to their full

complement. Cults, many of which existed in name only, were newly constituted, with

statues, rituals, priestly garb, and chants all revived or, if need be, recreated in archaic

63 Miller 2009: 5

64 Miller 2009: 5

65 Miller 2009: 5.

21

style. From now on all religious texts would be followed to the letter. A year later came

the dedication of the Temple of Apollo and, with it, the beginning of the great program to

rebuild the ruined temples. “During my sixth consulate, by order of the Senate I restored

82 temples of the gods in Rome and did not omit a single one which was at that time in

need of renewal”(Res Gestae 20).66

When it comes to matters of cult, then, there was an “Augustan programme” which poets could

both “mirror” and “contest.” Though a poet’s “contesting” of the programme does not always

have to indicate some sort of fundamental disagreement – indeed, Miller suggests that “poets

both collaborate and resist,” and that these two tendencies can, in fact, “coexist”67 – the poet’s

“private visions of the world” can speak more pointedly to their own concerns.68

Nor should we be surprised if Ovid’s Fasti, which takes matters of cult as its primary

focus and, additionally, is written by a poet who was famous for promoting perspectives that

differed from predominant Augustan values, is a prime place to find re-appropriations of

“Augustan cultural appropriations.”69

Genre and Politics: Character Studies in the Fasti

Though several scholars have explored the problematic nature of the arrangement of

Ovid’s material (i.e. his manipulation of the calendar),70 only a few scholars have commented on

what seem to be significant “appearances” and “absences” among the historical figures Ovid

66 Zanker 1988: 103.

67 Miller 2009: 5.

68 Miller 2009: 5-6 demonstrates this using the example of the proem to Georgics 3, which manages to be both a

panegyric to Augustus and a promotion of Vergil’s own forthcoming epic, the Aeneid.

69 Miller 2009: 5.

70 See, for example, Newlands 1995, Pasco-Pranger 2006, and Barchiesi 1997.

22

represents.71 One of the more detailed investigations of this kind is Hinds’ exploration of the

figure of Romulus. Hinds reveals that Romulus is an important figure both generically and

politically:72 generically, arma, the stated topic of Vergil’s Aeneid and therefore symbolic of the

epic genre itself, are diametrically opposed to Ovid’s own topics – sacra, tempora, causis, and

sidera, as the introductory passages in Books 1 and 2 reveal (discussed above). Hinds argues

that this contrast between arma and the Fasti’s subject matter is emphasized also by way of the

depiction of Romulus, who is aligned with arma most explicitly in his own words at Fast. 3.73-

74, in his prayer to his father: arbiter armorum, de cuius sanguine natus/credor (“director of

arms, from whose blood I am believed to have been born”), as well as at 3.197-198, when Mars

tells the story of the rape of the Sabines: indolui patriamque dedi tibi, Romule, mentem./ “tolle

preces,” dixi “quod petis arma dabunt” (I mourned and gave to you, Romulus, your father’s

mind. ‘Cease from your prayers,’ I said, ‘that which you seek, arms will give.’) As the Fasti is

aligned with religious concerns rather than militaristic ones, the warlike figure of Romulus

appears to be ill-fitted to the poem:

tempora digereret cum conditor Urbis, in anno

constituit menses quinque bis esse suo.

scilicet arma magis quam sidera, Romule, noras,

curaque finitimos vincere maior erat.

(Fast. 1.27-30)

When the founder of the city was setting the calendar in order, he ordained that there

should be twice five months in his year. To be sure, Romulus, you were better acquainted

with arms than with stars, and your greater care was to conquer your neighbors.73

71 Phillips 1992: 65

72 Hinds 1992a and 1992b.

73 Translation Hinds 1992b: 115. Hinds 1992b: 121 further explains, “Poor Romulus. Arma may be all that a

hero needs to fulfill his role in martial epic; but in the world of the Fasti the first monarch’s concentration on arma

at the expense of sidera ends up by making him look, in the eyes of history, very silly indeed.”

23

In addition to being generically significant, Romulus’ depiction in Ovid’s Fasti is at odds

with the ideology portrayed in the iconography of Augustus Caesar. “To portray Romulus as a

bellicose primitive, as Ovid so emphatically does...seems...to invite interpretation as a politically

loaded act in the world of mid to late Augustan Rome.”74 After all, according to Suetonius (in

Aug. 7.2) and Cassius Dio (at 53.16.5), the honorary name “Romulus” was almost chosen instead

of “Augustus” for Octavian. This cultivation of the founder of Rome as an honorary figure is

made manifest in works such as the huts of Romulus on the Palatine and Capitoline and the

statue of Romulus among the summi viri in the Forum of Augustus.75 Though military might and

conquest were important elements in Augustan ideology, so was the projection of Augustus as an

“enlightened peacetime ruler,” patron of religion and creator of the pax Augusta.76 The Romulus

of the Fasti, a poem ostensibly concerned with “peaceful” matters such as religion and

astronomy, is portrayed as an ambiguous role model with regards to non-militaristic aspects of

Augustan ideology.

Barchiesi also explores the significance of the Fasti’s passages about Romulus, most

notably the comparison between Romulus and Augustus in Book 2:

Romule, concedes: facit hic tua magna tuendo

moenia, tu dederas transilienda Remo.

te Tatius parvique Cures Caeninaque sensit: 135

hoc duce Romanum est solis utrumque latus,

tu breve nescio quid victae telluris habebas:

quodcumque est alto sub Iove, Caesar habet,

tu rapis, hic castas duce se iubet esse maritas:

tu recipis luco, reppulit ille nefas. 140

74 Hinds 1992b: 127.

75 See Rea 2007 on the huts and Hinds 1992b: 128-129 on other material representations of Romulus.

76 Hinds 1992b: 130.

24

vis tibi grata fuit, florent sub Caesare leges.

tu domini nomen, principis ille tenet,

te Remus incusat, veniam dedit hostibus ille.

(Fast. 2.133-143)

Romulus, you will yield (to Augustus): he makes your walls great by guarding them, you

had given them to be leapt over by Remus. Tatius and the little Cures and Caenina knew

you; but under this leader (Caesar) both sides of the sun are Roman. You owned a little

bit of conquered land: whatever is under high Jove, Caesar possesses. You rape wives;

he orders wives to be chaste under his rule. You receive guilt in your grove, he repels it.

Violence was pleasing to you, but under Caesar laws flourish. You have the name of

“master,” he holds that of “prince.” Remus accuses you, but he gave forgiveness to the

enemy.

For Barchiesi, this comparison “oversteps the acceptable limits of Augustan rhetoric. First the

hyperbole ought to build up the figure of Romulus as a great Roman, and then show Augustus as

a still greater one; but here it runs the risk of destroying the image of Romulus, and Romulus is

not just one of the many heroes of the past: he is the very symbolic foundation chosen by

Augustan political discourse as the base on which to construct the idea of the prince as pater

patriae.”77 Barchiesi points to the sheer number of passages regarding Romulus – enough to

constitute a nearly full account of his life, albeit one that does not proceed chronologically78 – as

an indication that his role in the Fasti is integral to our interpretation of the poem’s political

message. Thus Hinds and Barchiesi, among others, see the Romulus of the Fasti as a means by

which Ovid questions the militaristic aspects of Augustan ideology and the cultivation of Rome’s

violent founder. So, too, does Fantham explore Evander’s major role in Ovid’s calendar poem,

arguing that this figure’s frequent appearance presents him as an alternative not only to Romulus

77 Barchiesi 1997: 81.

78 Barchiesi 1997: 154.

25

but also to the other founder favored by Augustan ideology, i.e. Aeneas.79 As always, Ovid

reveals the tensions in Augustan discourse.

Both Romulus and Evander are figures who are frequently represented in Augustan

literature and iconography. Yet there has been little scholarly exploration of figures whose

appearance in the Fasti is disproportionate to their frequency in the religious and social practices

of Ovid’s day. Phillips notes, for example, that Jupiter plays a surprisingly small role in the

Fasti given his importance in both ritual and in Augustan propaganda, and that two important

Augustan festivals – the Dea Dia and Ludi Saeculares – do not appear in Ovid’s poem.80 Given

what we know from other sources about the importance of Jupiter and these two festivals, their

absence in Ovid’s Fasti seems to be a significant choice on the author’s part. And though it can

be difficult to argue from absence, a look at what other texts have to say about these elements of

Roman religion, as well as a comparison to public imagery and “official” calendars, could in fact

prove to be revealing.

In “Missing Persons,” I will focus on characters that have limited representation in other

texts and iconographic media but are prominent in Ovid’s Fasti (and, in Hersilia’s case, the

Metamorphoses, too), and I will attempt to explain what Ovid’s new interpretation of these

characters “means” generically and politically. I have dubbed them “Missing Persons” because I

believe that their prominence in this work is a direct commentary on their suppression elsewhere,

and that Ovid utilizes the fact that there is limited information about them in order to manipulate

their traditional meanings and construct a new significance for them in his own work, thereby

challenging Augustus’ own redefinition of the Roman calendar.

79 Fantham 1992.

80 The latter of these points is brought up by Syme 1978: 23.

26

The characters I have chosen share certain characteristics. First, they are all explicitly

absent in some way, either from literature or material media: Remus is shockingly absent – in a

context in which one would expect him to appear - from Ovid’s other major work of the same

time period, the Metamorphoses, and his appearance in material iconography of the Augustan

and post-Augustan ages is limited to topics such as his infancy and (perhaps) his defeat in the

contest of the augury. Yet he is very prominent in the Fasti. As for Hersilia, though she appears

as Romulus’ wife – or at least as the leader of the Sabine women – in historical sources, she has

no corresponding significance in the political/religious arena in Rome; as far as we can tell, she

was not celebrated as an important personage, and there is no explicit iconography of her.

Meanwhile, Carmentis, though apparently an important enough personage to have a flamen, a

Porta, and a major religious festival named after her, has – surprisingly – no corresponding

importance in material media; in fact, she is absent entirely from existing iconography.

Besides sharing some sort of explicit absence, all three of these characters are also

manipulated – often via etymological wordplay - in order to fit into more than one context in

which they originally seem to have played no part. Remus is given a prominent role in the

Fasti’s aetiologies for several festivals: the Lupercalia (Fast. 2.359-380), the Parilia (4.807-862),

and the Lemuria (5.455-484). Of these three festivals, the Lupercalia and the Lemuria were

previously not associated with Remus. Hersilia is granted an unprecedented honor – apotheosis –

at the end of Metamorphoses Book 14, and the Fasti gives her a more active role than is found in

her traditional representation. And Carmentis is imported into two unprecedented contexts: the

story of the Roman matrons’ use of abortion as a form of protest (1.617-636) and the story of

Ino’s transformation into the Roman goddess Mater Matuta (6.529-550).

27

Finally, all three of these characters, at least in the Augustan and Tiberian ages, are

relatively minor divinities/personages (compared to, say, Apollo or Romulus) who are,

moreover, entirely Roman (that is, they are not divinities imported from Greece, even though

they may appear in Greek sources or may be given a false “Greek” background, as Carmentis

seems to be), and they play important roles in the development of early Rome.

The first character whose treatment I explore is Remus. Remus was, of course, by no

means a “missing person” in Roman consciousness. His role in the foundation story as brother

and victim of Romulus was a potent commentary on both the sacrifices on which Rome was built

and on the civil wars that seemed to be endemic to the Roman people. And yet, during

Augustus’ time, Remus’ iconographic role was quite limited. Though the image of the wolf and

twins appeared in some prominent locations, such as on the Ara Pacis, Remus was mostly

reduced to this infant role, symbolic of the divine favor and fortuitous circumstances that led to

Rome’s founding. The one image of the adult Remus that appears in Rome, a frieze on the

Temple of Quirinus that depicts the famous augury at Rome’s founding, supports the rhetoric

found in literary sources that Romulus, the bigger, stronger, and cleverer twin, was always

destined to be Rome’s founder.

Remus is missing entirely from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, even in the story of the

foundation of Rome at Met. 14.772-775, but he is a recurring and prominent character in the

Fasti. Moreover, his representations are unusual: in the story of the cattle robbers in Book 2

(Fast. 2.359-380), for example, he is victorious over his brother. In the story of his death in

Book 4 (Fast. 4.807-862), it is not Romulus but a man named Celer who kills Remus, and the

death is uniquely fashioned as an aetiology for the ritual behavior that citizens took part in during

the Parilia. In the aetiology for the Lemuria in Book 5 (Fast. 5.455-484), Remus becomes

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responsible for a major Roman festival, and his bloody reappearance as a ghost emphasizes the

unfair quality of his death. Finally, the representations of the augury and of Romulus’ apotheosis

bring Romulus’ superiority and his destiny as the founder of Rome into question.

Thus Ovid’s Remus performs several important functions. His absence in the

Metamorphoses reflects the lack of prominence that he was granted in Augustan ideology in

comparison to Romulus, while his constant reappearance in the Fasti – in situations that connect

him directly to the ritual behavior of the Roman people – suggests that the attempt to draw

attention away from his role in the founding of Rome was unsuccessful, as he was too deeply

ingrained in Roman consciousness. That he is given such prominence in the Fasti, an elegiac

work that might thereby be expected to focus on lamentation (among other things), is

appropriate, and speaks to the role of genre in Ovidian poetics. More importantly, however,

Remus is represented as just as worthy of rule and deification as his brother Romulus; indeed,

this fact is emphasized explicitly in Mars’ speech before the apotheosis of Romulus (Fast. 2.483-

488). This is, of course, a powerful political statement on Ovid’s part. He denies Romulus any

sort of natural superiority over his defeated brother: if the conflict between Romulus and Remus

is symbolic of the civil wars leading up to Augustus’ reign (and if Augustus is identified with

Romulus, as he so often was), then Ovid’s take on things suggests that Octavian’s victory was

not predestined. Further, Ovid’s representation of Romulus’ apotheosis in the Fasti once again

seems to criticize the process of imperial apotheosis, as it suggests not that Romulus necessarily

deserved to be a god, but that he is granted divinity because he is the son of a god and because

his brother – who might have been given this honor had things turned out differently – is dead.

In my next chapter, I explore Ovid’s treatment of Hersilia, Romulus’ wife. Though she is

often given a relatively large role in historical accounts, even being privileged with direct speech

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on occasion, she is not always identified as Romulus’ wife, nor does her role go beyond that of

the leader of the Sabine women when they intercede in the battle between Romans and Sabines.

Moreover, she is not explicitly named or represented anywhere in the Roman religious calendar

or in numismatic or monumental iconography. And yet in Ovid’s works, she is privileged with

lengthy passages in both the Fasti (3.167-234) and the Metamorphoses (14.829-851), and while

her appearance in the Fasti plays with her traditional role of intercessor in the Romano-Sabine

conflict, her appearance in the Metamorphoses, where she is deified and becomes the goddess

Hora, is entirely unprecedented.

I argue that Hersilia’s representation in both the Metamorphoses and the Fasti continues

the trend that Ovid began with his treatment of the rape of the Sabines in the Ars Amatoria. His

“elegiac” reimagining of that historic event in the Ars (1.101-134) recasts it in an entirely new

light, rejecting the political and masculine-centric interpretations that dominate the historical

accounts. Rather than focusing on the men’s point of view and the political advantages given to

the men who committed the act with the benefit of historical hindsight, Ovid focuses on the act

itself as an act of rape, on the passion that inspired it and the reactions of the women, without

any reference to the rape’s effect on Roman history (beyond a humorous remark about what it

means for the reputation of the theater). He also pokes fun at the politically-centered view of the

event by ironically integrating images of and references to the Roman military.

Though the rape of the Sabines episode in the Fasti (3.187-202) is quite different, it

similarly denies the peaceful outcomes favored by historical accounts, rooting the justification

for the rape in anger. It also sees in the ensuing war an aetiology for the civil wars that plagued

Rome in the late Republic rather than focusing on the rape as an aetiology for the institution of

Roman marriage, as it is in Livy, Dionysius, and Plutarch.

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Ovid’s Hersilia, the most famous of the Sabine women, is symbolic of this anti-historical

re-reading of the rape, and her prominence and unique representation turn the masculine-centric

view of history on its head while questioning some of the prominent political ideologies of

Ovid’s day, particularly the ideology of imperial divinity. In the Fasti episode, for example,

Mars attempts to circumscribe the story of the Sabine women’s intercession in the conflict into

his own control, by trying to claim the story as an aetiology for his significance in the

Matronalia. But the true reason for the celebration of the Matronalia – a reason rooted entirely in

feminine concerns and divinities – subtly asserts itself at the end of the episode (Fast. 3.245-

258). Moreover, Hersilia appears here (Fast. 3.205-212), as never before, as a woman in control

of the situation. The speech so often given to her in historical accounts is transferred from a

male internal audience to a female internal audience, and reveals her as a forward-thinking,

rational woman rather than as a victim of overwhelming emotions.

In the Metamorphoses, meanwhile, Hersilia is not only granted a unique honor –

deification as the goddess Hora – but is also positioned as the climactic figure of Book 14, and

one whose apotheosis prefigures that of the Caesars in Book 15. Here, too, her honor is

ostensibly circumscribed in the realm of masculine control, as she is defined entirely by her

relationship with her husband Romulus. However, the position of the episode and its

unprecedented nature threaten to destabilize that masculine circumscription. Moreover, her

deification prefigures that of Livia, who – as wife of a pater patriae – was eventually granted

apotheosis, but not in Ovid’s time. Thus Ovid’s Hersilia becomes a commentary on the poet’s

ability to grant divinity to historical personages with greater ease than men of political import are

able to do. Further, his representation of Hersilia’s deification as being due entirely to her

relationship with her husband plays with the nepotistic tendencies of political apotheosis

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exemplified by Julius Caesar’s deification by his adopted son Augustus, on which Ovid

comments explicitly in Book 15 (Met. 15.760-761). Ovid’s Hersilia, then, is a figure who not

only resists the political and literary attempts at masculine control over the feminine but also

represents a challenge to the official process of imperial deification.

Finally, I explore Ovid’s manipulation of Carmentis. Traditionally an ancient Roman

goddess of childbirth and prophecy who became identified with the mother of Rome’s proto-

founder Evander, Carmentis had a fairly limited role in Roman literature, appearing in many

works but never with much detail. Moreover, though she had a festival, a flamen, and a gate

named after her in Rome, there was no iconography of her (at least, none that survived or is

mentioned), and her roles as goddess of childbirth and prophecy had been, by Augustus’ time,

somewhat usurped by more prominent figures such as Ilithyia/Juno Lucina and the Sibyl. And

yet she is given great prominence in the Fasti: in Book 1 she appears at length (Fast. 1.461-586

and 1.617-636), her divinity is emphasized (whereas in Vergil et al. she was merely a nympha),

she is given a great deal of direct speech, and she appears in one unprecedented circumstance

(the story of the matrons’ abortion at 1.617-636). As if to emphasize her importance, she is

given an unprecedented role in the story of Mater Matuta, as well (6.529-550).

I argue that Ovid’s unusual treatment of Carmentis is both poetically and politically

significant. Ovid refashions the two-day festival of the Carmentalia – ostensibly a celebration of

matters of childbirth – into a festival that celebrates not only poetry in general but his own poetry

in particular. He does so by playing with the etymology of Carmentis’ name (from carmen) and

by making her poetic voice similar to his own in its exploration of elegiac topics, be they

lamentation or eroticism. His Carmentis allows him also to interact and “compete” with Vergil,

via her prophecy about Rome and the battle between Hercules and Cacus, which Ovid

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manipulates in order to connect it with Carmentis and the Carmentalia. Ovid presents his

“elegiac” version of things in contrast to the version of his epic predecessor, within an episode

that he frames as pertaining to poetic issues.

Politically, too, Carmentis is a potent character. As an Arcadian, her prominence detracts

from the prominence of the Trojan contingent of proto-founders of Rome (i.e. Aeneas and his

descendants), and her function as prophetess usurps and supersedes that of Vergil’s Sibyl, who

had, by Ovid’s time, become a figure closely associated with the Augustan programme. Ovid

even places Carmentis in a position to detract from the famously Augustan Apollo by inserting

her into a story that had previously pertained to Apollo and, moreover, by making this new

version of the story into one that directly clashes with the moral legislation so closely associated

with the Augustan house (which was, in itself, closely associated – indeed, physically connected

– with Apollo and his temple). Finally Carmentis, whose divinity is emphasized in the Fasti

more than in any other source, becomes a mouthpiece for poetry’s power to make gods, to effect

apotheosis just as surely as the political machinations that had granted this honor to the Caesars.

Carmentis, though deeply rooted in Roman consciousness, had fallen somewhat by the

wayside in the face of Augustus’ ideologies, which privileged Apollo and the Sibyl and

reproductive integrity and the divinity of the Caesars. Her “absence” allows Ovid to manipulate

her traditional significance; indeed, he makes her a powerful symbol of his poetry and its

divergence from the “party line,” and uses her to explore, from an alternative point of view, the

popular ideological trends of his day.

Though many scholars have investigated the ways in which Ovid’s versions of things

differ from “traditional” accounts, and have taken into consideration things such as historical,

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iconographic, calendrical, and literary context, these investigations often focus on individual

episodes or on the repetition of themes. What I offer here is a systematic treatment of three

characters, a look at the narratives that their appearances throughout the Fasti (and, in Hersilia’s

case, between the Fasti and the Metamorphoses) construct and the ways in which these

narratives, as a whole, contribute to our understanding of Ovidian poetics and their relationship

to the literary trends and political ideologies of Ovid’s day. In other words, I attempt to provide

an inter- and intra-textual reading that takes into account not only the historical, literary, and

material context of Ovid’s representation of these characters, but also how the episodes about

these characters construct narratives that broaden and question Augustan discourse. These

narratives provide an alternative view of the Roman history upon which contemporary religious

behaviors were based, a view that probes the dominant ideologies of Ovid’s time and seeks a

(re)definition of Roman identity that finds its origins in poetic license rather than political

control.

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CHAPTER II

THE MISSING TWIN: REMUS AS THE ELEGIAC “OTHER”

Remus, Romulus’ twin brother, does not seem like a “missing person” at first glance.

The story of the twin sons of Mars and their foundation of the city was, as we might expect for a

foundation story, an important myth in the literature and iconography of Rome. Nevertheless,

Remus, especially the adult Remus, was far less visible in the structures and texts of the

Augustan age than his brother Romulus,81 and thus it is difficult to understand this character’s

role in Ovid’s calendar poem, where he appears with surprising frequency and detail in Books 2

(Fast. 2.359-380), 4 (807-862), and 5 (455-484).82 Moreover, Remus’ recurrences are not

merely a consequence of his traditional association with Romulus, since Remus appears at length

in an unprecedented context, namely, the account of the Lemuria in Book 5.

Nor is Remus’ presence in the calendar poem a result of his presence in the calendar, in

which he seems to have played no real part. Rather, I will argue that Ovid constructs Remus as

an essentially elegiac character, or at least a character ill-suited to martial poetry, unlike his

brother. But though genre can influence a work, it is (as my introduction details) by no means a

strict set of rules from which no poet can stray, and thus genre alone cannot explain Remus’

expanded role in Ovid’s poem. I will argue that Remus’ prominence in the Fasti criticizes a gap

in the iconography of Augustan monuments and coins and the ideology of Romulus as one of the

summi viri. The depiction of Remus as the superior brother in the Lupercalia episode of Book 2,

81 With the pediment of the temple of Quirinus as the one remarkable exception, as I will explore below.

82 These passages are given in full in Appendix I.A.

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coupled with the senselessness of his death at the hands of Celer in Book 4 and with his

protestations of equality in Book 5, suggests that he is symbolic of the arbitrary nature of victory,

an example of the ruler that could have been, were it not for a few accidents of fate. This

counters the ideology that made Romulus the one destined for sovereignty.

Finally, Ovid’s versions of Remus’ adult life, death, and afterlife seem to connect him

inextricably with the beliefs and behaviors of the Roman citizens, making him not only symbolic

of the “brothers” who died in Rome’s long history of civil conflict but also, more specifically,

the representative of the common people who ended up as subjects to Augustus.83

Remus in the Historical and Iconographic Structures of Rome

The unusual nature of the Roman foundation myth is exemplified by Horace, for whom

Remus is emblematic of Rome’s penchant for civil wars, a dark reminder of the painful history

that lies behind the times of peace: sic est: acerba fata Romanos agunt/scelusque fraternae

necis,/ut immerentis fluxit in terram Remi/sacer nepotibus cruor (“a bitter destiny pursues the

Romans,/the guilt of a brother’s murder,/as the blood of undeserving Remus poured on the

ground,/accursed for Rome’s posterity.” Epod. 7.17-20). That the foundation of Rome should be

marked by fratricide seems like an odd thing to celebrate; indeed, though this element of the

foundation myth seems to have been fairly well accepted by historians and poets, there are still

83 Wiseman 1995 argues that Remus’ unique position among Indo-European divine twins is due to his relatively

late insertion into the Roman foundation myth, a consequence of the fact that he was invented to be a reflection of

the rise – and fall - of the Roman plebs. Though it is unlikely that Ovid is trying to make such an argument in his

own work, I will argue that he does use some aetiological sleight-of-hand to connect Remus with Rome’s plebs.

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variations in the literary sources regarding the death of Remus, as well as what appears to be

some discomfort surrounding the issue in the artistic record.

Our three major prose sources for the story of Romulus and Remus are Dionysius of

Halicarnassus, Livy, and Plutarch (see Appendix I.B). All three relate the tale of how the twins

Romulus and Remus were born to Rhea Silvia/Ilia after (allegedly, at least) being fathered by the

god Mars. All three discuss their abandonment, their adoption by Faustulus, and their rural

adolescence. All three sources also include the twins’ use of augury to determine who would

give Rome its name/location, as well as Remus’ death in the events leading up to the foundation

of Rome, although the exact circumstances of that death - was it a result of a group scuffle

following the augury, as in Dionysius (D.H. 1.87), or a deliberate decision on Romulus’ part

after Remus mocked his walls, as in Livy (1.7)? – seem to be a matter of debate.

It is perhaps unsurprising that the death of Remus does not appear in the extant

iconographic record. Instead, coins, statues, and reliefs focus on “safer” topics, such as the

infant twins’ rescue by the she-wolf (evidence of divine favor) and the adult Romulus’ post-

foundation acquisition of the spolia opima, the spoils which Romulus won in the war against the

Sabines and which distinguished him as the ultimate military victor.84

It is strange, therefore, that in her discussion of Romulean monuments on the Palatine and

Capitoline hills, Rea claims that “the tradition of infant founders is not as important for the

continued existence of the city in the time of Augustus as the story of the adult twins.”85 On the

contrary, while the figure of the adult Romulus was an important figure in Augustan monuments

84 Ovid refers to the statue of Romulus with the spolia opima in the Forum of Augustus at Fast. 5.565-6: hinc

videt Iliaden humeris ducis arma ferentem, claraque dispositis acta subesse viris – “on this side he sees the son of

Ilia, bearing the arms of the leader on his shoulders, and the great deeds placed below the arranged men.”

85 Rea 2007: 39.

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(to judge by his presence among statues of the Summi Viri and the cultivation of his hut on the

Palatine and Capitoline hills),86 the adult Remus is found in extremely limited circumstances.

One of the earliest representations of the infant twins (as far as we know) was the bronze

statuary group erected near the Palatine Hill in 296 BCE.87 This statue was located near the ficus

ruminalis, the tree under which the historical twins were supposedly found by the wolf.88 In fact,

a coin of 269 with Hercules on its obverse and the wolf and twins on its reverse was

commissioned when one of the consuls in office was Q. Ogulnius, who had set up the bronze

statue under the ficus ruminalis.89 A statue of the wolf and twins also appears to have existed on

the Capitoline hill; this statue, according to Cicero, was struck by lightning (et tactus etiam ille

qui hanc urbem condidit Romulus, quem inauratum in Capitolio, paruum atque lactantem,

uberibus lupinis inhiantem fuisse meministis – “and struck too was that Romulus who founded

this city, who you remember used to be on the Capitoline, gilded, small, and drinking, gaping for

the wolf’s udders,” Cicero Catil. 3.19;90 cf. Div. 1.19-20, 2.45, 47; Dio 37.9.1). It is notable that

even here, in the context of a description of a work of art, Cicero only mentions Romulus,

86 See Edwards 1996, Rea 2007: 21-43, and Zanker 1988: 210-215.

87 It seems possible that the she-wolf, and not the twins, was the more significant element of this image.

Mazzoni 2010: 15 details the importance of the she-wolf to Roman identity, being both nurturing and fierce, and

there is at least one Republican coin type (RRC 388) that depicts the she-wolf alone. However, the later conflation

of the Dioscuri with Romulus and Remus in numismatic imagery suggests that the aspect of twins (and their divine

origin) was important as well. On the placement of the statue, Oakley comments “most ancient sources place the

ficus Ruminalis at the Lupercal or Cermalus on the lower slopes of the Palatine…but Tacitus (ann. xiii. 58) places it

in the Comitium, where Maxentius later erected statues to Mars and the twins…and Pliny (nat. xv. 77) states that the

legendary augur Attus Navius effected a miraculous transfer of it from Lupercal to Comitium…The odd discrepancy

in location, reflected in the story told by Pliny, may point to the twins’ being honoured at both sites.” (Oakley 1997:

283).

88 Rehak 2005: 115.

89 Wiseman 2004: 123.

90 Translation mine.

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omitting the infant Remus, who was undoubtedly there. This omission speaks to Remus’ relative

lack of importance, as though the “twins” were really stand-ins for Romulus.91

Nevertheless, the image of the infant twins became established in the Republican period

as a “public” coin type, appearing paired with images with broad appeal to Romans, like

Hercules, Janus, and the goddess Roma [Image 1].92 In fact, the latest Republican coin to utilize

the image of the infant twins, from 115/114 BCE [Image 2], did not include the name of the

moneyer, defying the second-century trend of the use of coin images to promote the family name

and, rather, promoting a public image with universal appeal.93

Though Romulus and Remus disappear from known surviving coins entirely from 114

BCE through the Julio-Claudian dynasty, after one appearance in the reign of Galba they return

with a vengeance in Vespasian’s reign and beyond, appearing frequently on coins of Antoninus

Pius, Philip I, Maxentius, Constantine, and others,94 often with reference to Rome’s auspicious

91 In fact, as Wiseman 1995: 11 points out, in De Republica, Cicero mentions Remus only once, even in his long

discussion of Romulus and his rise to power.

92 RRC 20, 39, 183, 235, and 287. The one exception to Romulus and Remus as a “public type” is a coin of 137

BCE, issued by Sextus Pompeius Fostlus (no.235), which has Roma on the obverse and the wolf and twins on the

reverse. Here, the shepherd Faustulus is also depicted, whose name Fostlus probably wanted to associate with his

own, in a manner typical of moneyers of this time period.

93 The coins of Pomponius Musa which depict a Muse on the reverse, or the coins of one of the Sabinii that

depict the rape of the Sabines, show how popular the promotion of the family name was on 2nd century coins.

Regarding the latest Republican coin to feature the infant twins, Mattingly 2004: 217-8 says that “We cannot easily

guess what exact message they [Sextus Pompeius and the anonymous moneyer of no.287] were getting across to the

public” – but he sees both Sextus Pompeius’ type and that of the anonymous moneyer as “public and general” in

their appeal.

94 Antoninus Pius’s coins made frequent use of the wolf and twins (e.g. RIC III p.31 #42a, p.37 #94-96, p.111

#630-631, 633-634, p.299 #1089), while Marcus Aurelius’ did so to a smaller degree. For both of these emperors,

the image appears on lower-denomination coins, suggesting its status as a “public” type. Philip I issued she-wolf-

and-twin coins with the legend SAECVLARES AVGG in conjunction with the Secular Games of 247-248 CE in

order to celebrate Rome’s 1,000th birthday (RIC IV Vol.3 p.58 #56, p.70 #15, p.89 #159). Maxentius uses the wolf

and twins on a coin whose legend is AETERNITAS (RIC VI p.403 no.20), and in a set of coins on which both the

Dioscuri and Romulus and Remus appear on a reverse with the legend AETERNITAS AVG N (RIC VI p.403 nos.

16-19). The she-wolf and twins – with two stars above them, possibly references to the Dioscuri – appear on the

reverses of many Constantinian bronze coins. An example specimen (RIC VII p.138 no.242) has the obverse legend

VRBS ROMA and, on the reverse, the wolf and twins with the legend GLORIA EXERCITVS, surely an appeal to

the soldiers who would have received this bronze.

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origins and her physical site. The use of the image of the infant twins in later Imperial periods

shows that this image could be adapted to imperial contexts. One of Vespasian’s coins, for

example, depicts the wolf and twins with the goddess Roma, the seven hills, and the river

Tiber.95 Here, the image may refer to Vespasian’s role as re-founder of Rome after the excesses

of Nero and the unstable year of four emperors.

And yet the record seems to suggest that Romulus and Remus did not appear on

Augustan coins. They did, however, appear on one very prominent Augustan monument of the

time: the Ara Pacis.96 Here the twins, in conjunction with other images such as the “Tellus”

panel, which depicts a goddess surrounded by symbols of fertility and abundance [Image 3],

seem to emphasize the peace and auspiciousness of Augustus’ reign. It is clear, then, that the

infant twins, when surrounded by contextual clues, could become a symbol of peace; Augustan

coinage, however, not only had a wider audience but also lacked the context of other images,

placement among the monuments of Rome, and inscriptions other than simple information such

as the name of the moneyer and the date (and sometimes a simple thematic word or two). We

cannot know the reasons for the infant twins’ numismatic disappearance for sure, but it may be

telling that just before Octavian received the title Augustus, and just before he was given control

over fiscal matters,97 Horace, the same poet who would later write the panegyric Carmen

Saeculare for Augustus’ Secular Games in 17 BCE, had written a poem that explicitly linked the

95 RIC II vol.1 no.71 (no. 108 in the new edition).

96 At least according to well-accepted reconstructions. This reconstruction is accepted without question by most

scholars (see, for example, Zanker 1988: 205-6). Castriota 1995: 154 explains that, while the relief is extremely

fragmentary, a few things can be identified: a bearded figure in armor, a tree, and the claws of a bird. These

remnants provide enough to identify the scene with relative certainty: it is Mars, the ficus ruminalis, and (most

likely) the woodpecker that was said to lead the she-wolf to the twins. These elements are enough to fill in what is

missing with relative certainty: the she-wolf and twins.

97 RIC I: 21-22.

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Romulus and Remus story with the bloodthirsty and highly controversial Civil Wars from which

Augustus was seeking to distance himself (Horace Epod. 7.17-20).98

Thus while the statue of adult Romulus in the Forum Augustum exploited his role as

founder, first king of Rome, and military victor, Remus is as limited in Augustan artistic and

numismatic representations as he is popular in literary ones, since his representation as an infant

– popular in the Republican era – was restricted to a single artistic context, and he almost never

appeared as an adult.

One exception to the general trend regarding the adult Remus is the marble relief found

within the area of the baths of Diocletian, from the Flavian period, that seems to represent the

façade of the Temple of Quirinus as it may have appeared after the Augustan restoration [Image

4], depicting it “as that of a Doric tetrastyle, with Romulus and Remus taking the auspices on the

pediment.”99 This is no doubt the augury through which Romulus was granted authority over the

foundation of Rome. The written accounts of this event vary widely, as I will explore in my

discussion of Ovid’s version of the event below, and spatial constraints mean that this artistic

representation differs from literary versions, as well. The figures are represented as being

physically close to each other, with the distance between the Palatine and Aventine hills, where

each twin stood to take his augury, condensed and the hills themselves represented by figures of

98 See p.34.

99 Paris 1996: 48. Platner-Ashby 1929: 439. This temple had originally been dedicated in 293 by L. Papirius

Cursor’s son. It was, according to Vitruvius, “a dipteral octastyle temple of the Doric order”(Evans 1992: 97-98).

Augustus mentions this restoration in Res Gestae 19, though he uses the verb facio rather than reficio: Curiam et

continens ei Chalcidicum templumque Apollinis in Palatio cum porticibus, aedem divi Iuli, Lupercal, porticum ad

circum Flaminium, quam sum appellari passus ex nomine eius qui priorem eodem in solo fecerat, Octaviam,

pulvinar ad circum maximum, aedes in Capitolio Iovis Feretri Iovis Tonantis, aedem Quirini, aedes Minervae et

Iunonis Reginae et Iovis Libertatis in Aventino, aedem Larum in summa sacra via, aedem deum Penatium in Velia,

aedem Iuventatis, aedem Matris Magnae in Palatio feci. While many scholars date the relief in question to the

Flavian period or later (a summary of the scholarship can be found in Pickett 1930: 21), Evans argues for an

Augustan date due to Augustus’ restoration of the temple (1992: 97-100). If the Augustan date is indeed a

possibility, this pediment cannot be ignored in my investigation.

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gods whose temples resided on those hills. Additionally, there are only three vultures on the

temple’s facade, while most of our literary sources mention the numbers six and twelve.100

Despite such differences, the main point of the frieze is clear: Romulus was the clear winner of

the augury contest. All the gods depicted – Quirinus, Mars, Vesta (or Fortuna), Hercules,

Mercury, and perhaps Juno Regina, as Evans argues101 - look towards the figure on the left,

identified as Romulus, and the birds fly in his direction. The figure on the far right must be

Remus, to judge by the way he “balances Romulus and looks (despondently?) at the vultures

appearing at the apex.”102 As far as we can tell, this sculpture is unique in its depiction of this

particular event, and its positioning on the temple of Quirinus – the deified Romulus – by

Augustus makes its meaning clear:

The viewer is reminded of Augustus’ own augury when he was taking up the office of

consul and saw the twelve vultures. We can be certain that, just as in the pediment where

the gods and goddesses show their approval, Augustus’ omens were sent by such a crowd

of luminaries. The story of Romulus’ eventual deification – hinted at in the portrayal of

Hercules and made plain by Quirinus – who occupied the temple, was intended to serve

as a type for the deification of the emperor. Thus we have in pictorial form what we have

been following in written form; Romulus and Augustus are linked by their priesthoods,

their foundation of a city and empire, and their (eventual deification).103

Augustus preempts the story of the augury for his own purposes and emphasizes the divine right

of Romulus (and, by extension, himself!) to rule over Rome.104

100 As Ovid himself does at Fast. 4.817. So, too, Livy I.7, Plutarch Romulus 9.5, Dionysius 1.86.3.

101 Evans 1992: 99-100.

102 Evans 1992: 100.

103 Evans 1992: 100.

104 Indeed, as Taylor 1931: 159 claims, the very name Augustus may connect him closely with Romulus, who

was famous for his augury (the connection between augurium and Augustus is emphasized by Ovid himself at Fasti

1.609-614). Livy also connects Romulus to Augustus and represents him as Augustus’ predecessor by using the

adjective augustus of the founder (Taylor 1931: 164-5).

42

One other “monument” to Remus exists in Augustan Rome, but it is not really a

monument at all. That is the Remoria on or near the Aventine, the location where Remus is said

to have taken the auspices and where he allegedly wished to build the site of Rome if he won the

augury, and where he was buried (Dionysius 1.87). And yet there are varying reports on the

exact location and name of this area,105 indicating that it was not a definitive or concrete

“monument” to the second twin, nor was there – as far as we can tell, at any rate – any sort of

structure or iconography in Remus’ honor.

At any rate, it becomes clear that, but for one prominent exception, the adult Remus plays

a small role in the imagery of the Roman religious and political complex. And yet the adult

Remus appears in Ovid’s Fasti in three lengthy episodes: Fast. 2.359-80, where he and Romulus

deal with the theft of their cattle; 4.807-62, where the augury and his death are discussed; and

5.447-84, where he returns as a ghost and establishes the festival of the Lemuria. He also is

briefly alluded to on other occasions in Books 2, 3, and 5 (at Fast. 2.395-400, 2.483-488, 3.25-

34, and 5.151-2). Given the discomfort that may have surrounded the adult Remus in

iconographic contexts, his representation in Ovid’s Fasti seems to be not only an interaction with

previous literary representations but also a reaction to his relative absence in other media.

Remus and Elegy: A Lamentable Character

Remus’ frequent appearances in the Fasti make his explicit absence in Ovid’s epic work,

the Metamorphoses, that much more surprising:

Proximus Ausonias iniusti miles Amuli

rexit opes, Numitorque senex amissa nepotis

munere regna capit, festisque Palilibus urbis

105 Platner-Ashby 1929: 448.

43

moenia conduntur...

(Met. 14.772-775)

Next the military force of unjust Amulius ruled the Ausonian state ,and old Numitor with

the help of his grandson seizes the lost kingdoms, and during the Parilia festival the walls

of the city are founded...

Myers notes that the myth of the twins and the founding of Rome are treated “with extreme

compression,” though this is surely an understatement, as in fact the story of the twins is missing

entirely, and the singular nepotis in line 773 “omits Remus’ role in the tradition.”106 Bömer notes

that one manuscript tradition substitutes nepotum, no doubt due to the oddity of the singular,

though he, like other commentators, prefers the singular.107 He also suggests that Amulius’ story

is treated so thoroughly in the Fasti – the older work, in his view - that Ovid condenses the

version here in the Metamorphoses to avoid repetition.108 Likewise, Myers seems to attribute the

compression to the fact that Ovid treats the myth “in numerous widely spread passages in the

Fasti.”109 These explanations are problematic for two reasons: first, the two Romulus episodes

that are developed in the Metamorphoses (the water metamorphoses in the war between the

Romans and Sabines at Met. 14.775-804 and Romulus’ deification at 14.805-28) appear also in

the Fasti (1.175-7 and 2.475-512), a fact that Myers herself notes merely a page before her

suggestion that Ovid compressed the foundation of Rome to avoid repetition.110 Second, even if

this were not the case, Ovid was not averse to treating the same episode in detail in both works,

106 Myers 2009: 194.

107 Bömer 1958: 231.

108 Die geschichte des Amulius wird in den Fasten so ausführlich behandelt (III 49 ff. Komm. zu II 383 Silvia

Vestalis), dass der Schluβ nahe liegt, Ovid fasse sich in den Met. kurz, um eine ältere Darstellung nicht zu

wiederholen (Bömer 1958: 231).

109 Myers 2009: 194.

110 Myers 2009: 193.

44

as Heinze and Hinds have shown in their studies of Ovid’s two versions of the rape of

Persephone.111 Clearly, if Remus had served the poet’s purpose in the Metamorphoses as well as

he did in the Fasti, Ovid would have been willing to include him in both poems. Furthermore,

the fact that Remus is not just omitted from the poem but erased entirely from the mythological

record by the singular nepotis – as though he had never existed at all – is strange and unsettling,

and draws attention to the dichotomy between the two poems’ versions of Rome’s origins.

Though other scholars have not sought to explain Remus’ absence specifically, many

have commented (as Bömer and Myers do) on the compression of Rome’s foundation into one

line of poetry. For Granobs, Rome’s foundation has no place in the Metamorphoses because it

does not contain a metamorphosis.112 But surely Ovid’s powers of invention, which have

summoned metamorphoses out of thin air and found ways to incorporate non-metamorphic

events into an epic about metamorphosis, could have found a way around such an obstacle, at

least enough to incorporate a brief mention of Romulus’ brother. For Wheeler, Ovid compresses

the foundation of Rome in the Metamorphoses out of a reluctance to compete with the

Annales.113 But the detailed description of Ilia’s dream in the Fasti, as well as the story of the

twins’ birth and Rome’s foundation, shows that Ovid was not afraid of engaging with Ennius.

A more promising answer lies in the generic forces at play in the poems. Such a study

has been accomplished successfully before: in The Metamorphosis of Persephone, Hinds follows

Heinze’s lead by showing the ways in which the two versions of the rape of Persephone – the

“epic” version present in the Metamorphoses and the “elegiac” version present in the Fasti – are

111 See Hinds 1987.

112 Granobs 1997.

113 Wheeler 2001: 113.

45

influenced by generic expectations. And we must remember that the fact that the

Metamorphoses contains elegiac elements and the Fasti contains non-elegiac elements does not

rule out a consideration of generic forces in the poems as a whole.

Is there something about the generic expectations of each poem, then, that would

occasion the complete omission of Remus in one and his unprecedented prominence in the other?

Philip Hardie suggests that the Metamorphoses, as epic poetry, favors a singular, male

protagonist. In traditional epic poetry, it is the unus homo, the “one man,” who is important,114

whether it is Achilles, Odysseus, or Aeneas. The end of Ovid’s epic echoes Ennius’ focus on

“great men” with its own similar string of apotheoses, moving from Aeneas and Romulus to

Julius Caesar, Augustus Caesar, and Ovid himself. Perhaps Hardie might suggest that there is

little place in the Metamorphoses for Remus, who is a reminder that Romulus was once one of a

pair. Yet the existence of Remus hardly seems to detract from the fact that Romulus alone

eventually became the unus homo and a god; this explanation, then, is unsatisfactory on its own.

We may also consider that the Metamorphoses seems to put more emphasis on events of

cosmic significance, at least according to Hinds, who explores this in his comparison of the

stories of the rape of Persephone that show up in the Metamorphoses and the Fasti. In the

Metamorphoses version, the rape of Persephone is accomplished as part of Venus’ plot to expand

her realm:

The elegiacs of the Fasti are innocent of this pretension to cosmic significance: and the

hexameter version’s superstructure of power-politics overarching the act of lust in the

pleasance of Enna seems once more indicative, as Otis suggests, of an alignment with the

epic tradition from Homer to Virgil, with its characteristic determination of action on the

ground by action on another, higher plane. And the epic pretension can be felt to be

further increased by the fact that in this case it is not just the latter set of actors who are

gods, but also the former set: on a scale of noble themes, the divine clearly outranks the

heroic and the human.115

114 P. Hardie 2002.

46

Thus while the last few books of the Metamorphoses, with their apotheoses, are

concerned with the movement from “earth to heavens,”116 as Garth Tissol puts it, we might see

the Fasti, a poem concerned to offer an “exposition and celebration of the Roman cult,”117 as

concerned with the movement from heavens to earth (i.e. from the gods to human behavior).

Because of this difference, the Metamorphoses has little room for Romulus’ earthly res gestae,118

and his infancy, youth, and the foundation of Rome are compressed – and Remus is omitted – in

favor of his apotheosis. In the Fasti, on the other hand, the earthly behavior of Romulus and his

brother Remus, and the earthly behavior that was inspired by them (according to Ovid), is within

the scope of discussion, and so Remus can more easily find a place. To quote Heinze, “In the

Metamorphoses the divine majesty of the characters is deliberately increased; in the Fasti

divinity is humanized.”119

But this distinction, like the others we have explored, seems insufficient, especially when

we consider the numerous catasterisms (which, by definition, move from earth to heaven) in the

Fasti, as well as the apotheoses of characters like Anna Perenna and Flora. Moreover, not every

passage in the Metamorphoses has cosmic significance.

We might find surprisingly useful the distinction posited by Heinze, which Hinds

confirms with his own investigation: the original connection of elegy to lamentation, or

115 Hinds 1987: 109.

116 Tissol 2002: 319.

117 Hinds 1987: 100.

118 Tissol 2002: 331.

119 Heinze 1960: 314: “in den Fasten wird die Gottheit der Personen geflissentlich gesteigert; in den Fasten wird

die Gottheit vermenschlicht.”

47

querimonia. This connection is expressed by Horace in Ars Poetica 75-6: versibus impariter

iunctis querimonia primum…inclusa est – “in verses unequally joined lamentation was first

contained.”120

Though by Ovid’s time elegy had come to be associated primarily with love poetry

(though aetiological elegy also occurred), “its supposed origins are always kept in view.”121

Hinds cites Ovid’s own work as evidence for this:

Memnona si mater, mater plorauit Achillem,

et tangunt magnas tristia fata deas,

flebilis indignos, Elegia, solue capillos:

a, nimis ex uero nunc tibi nomen erit.

(Am. 3.9.1-4)

If Memnon’s mother mourned him, and Achilles’ mother him, and the sad fates touch

even great goddesses, loosen and make your hair unbecoming, mournful Elegy: ah! now

your name will be too truthful.

Ovid exploits this connection most thoroughly in the exile poetry, but the Fasti, though most

obviously influenced by Callimachus’ elegiac Aetia and other models of aetiological poetry, may

have also felt the influence of elegy as the poetry of mourning and lamentation.122 Remus for his

part was a subject worthy of lamentation, and this is emphasized not only in the Fasti’s account

of his death in Book 4, where the description of his funeral (Fasti 4.845-856) is given more

space than the description of his death (4.837-844) but also, most explicitly, in Remus’ ghostly

return in Book 5 (5.447-484). Indeed, just as Hinds’ comparison of an epic story with an elegiac

story serves to illustrate that the elegiac version gives more emphasis to emotions of sadness,123 a

120 Translation mine.

121 Hinds 1987: 103.

122 As the discussions in Heinze 1960 and Hinds 1987 suggest.

123 See Hinds 1987: passim.

48

comparison between Ovid’s ghostly Remus and more “epic” ghosts will serve to show that

Remus is a fittingly elegiac character.

At Fast. 5.419-492, Ovid discusses the Lemuria of May 9th. In explaining the origin of

the rite, Ovid summons Remus from the dead: the ghost of Remus appears to Faustulus and Acca

Larentia in a dream and laments his own death:

‘en ego dimidium vestri parsque altera voti,

cernite sim qualis, qui modo qualis eram!

qui modo, si volucres habuissem regna iubentes,

in populo potui maximus esse meo,

nunc sum elapsa rogi flammis et inanis imago:

haec est ex illo forma relicta Remo.

heu ubi Mars pater est? si vos modo vera locuti,

uberaque expositis ille ferina dedit.’

(Fast. 5.459-466)

“Behold me, half and the other part of your devotion, discern, what I am, who was once

such a man! I who a little while ago, if I had had birds designating rulership, could have

been the most powerful among my people, now am an empty image, escaped from the

flames of the pyre: this is the form that is left of that illustrious Remus! Alas, where is

my father Mars? If you (i.e. Acca and Faustulus) spoke true things, he gave the wild

beast’s udders to us when we were exposed.” ‘

He then appeals to his foster parents to beg Romulus to establish a day in his honor (5.467-474).

Faustulus and Acca Larentia try to embrace him in vain, and when the vision is over they report

it to Romulus, who duly establishes the Lemuria (previously “Remuria,” according to Ovid) in

Remus’ honor (5.475-484).

One of the things that marks this passage is its relationship to passages in Vergil’s Aeneid

in which ghosts appear. Duffalo notes the similarity between Remus’ appearance and that of

Hector in Book 2:124

Tempus erat, quo prima quies mortalibus aegris

incipit et dono diuum gratissima serpit.

in somnis, ecce, ante oculos maestissimus Hector 270

124 Dufallo 2007: 103.

49

uisus adesse mihi, largosque effundere fletus,

raptatus bigis ut quondam, aterque cruento

puluere, perque pedes traiectus lora tumentis.

ei mihi, qualis erat, quantum mutatus ab illo

Hectore qui redit exuuias indutus Achilli, 275

uel Danaum Phrygios iaculatus puppibus ignis!

squalentem barbam et concretos sanguine crinis

uulneraque illa gerens, quae circum plurima muros

accepit patrios...

(A. 2.268-279)

It was the time, when rest first comes to weary mortals, and creeps up, a gift of the gods

most pleasing. See, in dream, before my eyes, Hector seemed to stand there, saddest of

all and pouring out great tears, torn by the chariot, as once he was, black with bloody

dust, and his swollen feet pierced by the thongs. Ah, how he looked! How changed he

was from that Hector who returned wearing Achilles’s armour, or who set Trojan flames

to the Greek ships! Bearing a ragged beard, hair matted with blood, and those many

wounds he received [when he was dragged] around the walls of his city.125

The similarities between the Hector passage and the Remus passage are clear: both spirits

come in a dream, with similar language marking their appearance (A. 2.271-272 – uisus adesse

mihi, largosque effundere fletus,/raptatus bigis, ut quondam, aterque cruento/puluere; Fast.

5.457: umbra cruento Remi visa est assistere lecto). Moreover, in both cases the ghost’s current

form in relation to his previous form is lamented (A. 2.274 – 275 - Ei mihi, qualis erat, quantum

mutatus ab illo Hectore; Fast. 5.460: cernite, sim qualis, qui modo qualis eram?). However,

there are also differences: though Aeneas laments Hector’s death (and though Aeneas’ language

is reminiscent of earlier Roman tragedy),126 Hector himself does not waste time in self-pity, but

rather hurries on to the point of his appearance: to warn Aeneas of the Greeks’ approach and to

direct his behavior. Though Remus’ ghost does direct the behavior of his audience (or at least,

the behavior of Romulus with Faustulus and Acca as go-betweens), the majority of his

125 All translations of Vergil throughout the main text of this dissertation are mine.

126 Elliott 2008: 253-254.

50

monologue is a lament about his plight. In particular, he expresses how undeserving he was of

the death he received. Remus feels himself to have been Romulus’ equal, exactly half of a whole

(dimidium, Fast. 5.459), distinguished only by chance (5.461) and not at all by any sort of

natural inferiority. His death, therefore, was a tragedy, and his good fortune to have a divine

parent was wasted.

This same characteristic is lacking in the appearance of Hector’s ghost, however.

Though Aeneas comments on how gut-wrenching it is to see Hector in such a mangled form (A.

2.274-275), there is no indication from Hector that this form is unwarranted. Rather, he focuses

on the task at hand and urges Aeneas on his way:127

‘heu fuge, nate dea, teque his,’ ait, ‘eripe flammis.

hostis habet muros; ruit alto a culmine Troia. 290

sat patriae Priamoque datum: si Pergama dextra

defendi possent, etiam hac defensa fuissent.

Sacra suosque tibi commendat Troia penatis:

hos cape fatorum comites, his moenia quaere

magna pererrato statues quae denique ponto.’ 295

(A. 2.289-295)

‘Alas, flee, goddess’ son,’ he says, ‘save yourself from these flames. The enemy holds

the walls; Troy is falling from its very top. Enough has been given to the fatherland and

to Priam: if Pergamon were able to be defended by this right hand, she already would

have been. Troy entrusts her sacred things and her penates to you: take these as your

comrades in destiny, seek great walls for them, which you will finally establish once you

have wandered all over the sea.’

The appearance of Ovid’s Remus does not just draw on Vergil’s Hector, however. There

are also echoes of Vergil’s Creusa in Remus’ appearance. After the appearance of Creusa’s

ghost, Aeneas tries in vain to embrace his now-dead wife:

127 Austin 1964: 135 emphasizes the practicality, the lack of wallowing in lamentation of Hector’s sentiment

when he says of line 291 (sat patriae Priamoque datum…) that “all that could be done has been done, and Hector

himself could do no more…Aeneas has discharged his debt in full to Priam and to Troy, his account is squared, he

can leave honourably.”

51

ter conatus ibi collo dare bracchia circum:

ter frustra comprensa manus effugit imago,

par leuibus uentis uolucrique simillima somno.

(A. 2.792-794)

Three times I tried to put my arms around her neck: three times the image, grasped in

vain, fled my hands, equal to the light winds and very like winged sleep.

These lines are similar to those found after Remus’ appearance:

mandantem amplecti cupiunt et bracchia tendunt:

lubrica prensantes effugit umbra manus.

(Fast. 5.475-476)

They wish to embrace him as he commands them and stretch their arms: the slippery

shade flees their grasping hands.

Of course, the image of a loved one trying to embrace a deceased loved one is not

unprecedented, and it notably appears in other epic circumstances: Iliad 23.99 ff. and Odyssey

11.2014-208, for example.128 In Ovid’s work, Faustulus and Acca only try one time;

nevertheless, this trope might call to mind the passage from Vergil, especially given the verbal

remiscences of manus effugit (A. 2.793) and effugit…manus (Fast. 5.476) and the fact that

another Vergilian passage (that of the ghost of Hector) is already being evoked. And indeed,

while Creusa’s appearance does not occur in a dream, her appearance is described as being very

similar to a dream (simillima somno – A. 2.294).

Yet, like Hector’s, Creusa’s words differ from Remus’ in that she shows no self-pity (and

actually instructs Aeneas not to mourn her loss) and focuses more on the future than on the past

in her prediction of her husband’s fate:

‘quid tantum insano iuuat indulgere dolori,

o dulcis coniunx? non haec sine numine diuum

eueniunt; nec te hinc comitem asportare Creüsam

128 Austin 1964: 285-6 discusses these intertexts.

52

fas, aut ille sinit superi regnator Olympi.

longa tibi exsilia, et uastum maris aequor arandum, 780

et terram Hesperiam uenies, ubi Lydius arua

inter opima uirum leni fluit agmine Thybris:

illic res laetae regnumque et regia coniunx

parta tibi. Lacrimas dilectae pelle Creusae.

(A. 2.776-784)

“Why does it please you to indulge in such insane grief, sweet husband? These things do

not happen without the will of the gods; nor is it right for you to carry off Creusa as a

companion from here, or that ruler of highest Olympus would allow it. Long exile is

destined for you; the vast stretch of the sea must be ploughed, and you will come to the

Hesperian land, where the Lydian Tiber flows among the rich fields of men in its gentle

stream: there happiness and a kingdom and a royal wife are given to you. Dash away

those tears for your beloved Creusa.”

Though Creusa’s ghost is certainly lamentable,129 the contrast between Creusa’s positive spin on

her own death and Remus’ lamentation serves to highlight that he, unlike Aeneas’ wife, was an

unwilling and perhaps unnecessary sacrifice to Rome’s future.

After a consideration of these two Vergilian passages, it becomes clear that, whether or

not Ovid is intentionally alluding to these ghosts, there are good grounds for considering Remus

to be a representative of elegiac querimonia in contrast with Vergil’s epic ghosts. Both Hector

and Creusa divert focus away from Aeneas’ mourning and toward the destiny of Rome, the

ultimate epic subject. Remus, meanwhile, not only mourns his fate and laments its lack of

fairness but also leads his brother to establish a day that is officially dedicated to mourning.

Lamentation is not a focus shared by other non-elegiac representations of Remus.

Though Horace’s Epode highlights Remus’ death (discussed above, p.35), Ennius and Vergil do

not. Remus presumably appeared in Ennius’ epic, but we have little evidence of his

representation there besides in the episode of the augury, one of the longest Ennian fragments we

129 Indeed, Austin 1964: 279-92 traces the ways in which Vergil heightens the pathos of the passage, from the o

of line 777 to the iamque vale of 789, which is reminiscent of Eurydice’s tragic words to Orpheus at Georgics 4.497.

53

possess.130 Remus appears twice in the Aeneid: in the first instance Romulus as Quirinus is the

subject with his brother merely an accompaniment (Remo cum fratre Quirinus/iura dabunt, A.

1.292-293) in an unusual vision of the story in which the brothers rule Rome together,131 while in

the second instance both brothers appear in the image of the wolf and infant twins (8.742-748).

In Vergil’s didactic work, the Georgics, it is Remus who is emphasized, but the peaceful rural

life that came before the founding of Rome’s walls is praised:

hanc olim ueteres uitam coluere Sabini,

hanc Remus et frater; sic fortis Etruria creuit

scilicet et rerum facta est pulcherrima Roma,

septemque una sibi muro circumdedit arces.

(G. 2.532-35)

This life once the ancient Sabines lived, this life Remus and his brother; thus Etruria grew

strong no doubt and Rome became the most beautiful of all, and, alone, surrounded the

seven hills with her wall.

The emphasis on Remus is “somewhat surprising,” and the use of frater in place of Romulus’

name (G. 2.533) brings to mind the way that Vergil “has twice mentioned fraternal discord and

fratricide as features of urban life (infidos agitans discordia fratres, G. 2.496; gaudent perfusi

sanguine fratrum, G. 2.510),” so that he seems to be emphasizing the relationship that is

paradigmatic of civil strife.132

130 Ann. 72-91 – discussed in more detail below.

131 Though Remus does appear first in the line. This seems to be a variant on the Romulus and Remus myth in

which the two brothers ruled together after Rome was founded (Wiseman 1995: 145). Servius claims that the image

of the brothers ruling together was a reference to the harmonious co-rulership between Augustus and Agrippa (vera

tamen hoc habet ratio, Quirinum Augustum esse, Remum vero pro Agrippa positum, qui filiam Augusti duxit

uxorem, et cum eo pariter bella tractavit – “nevertheless this has the true reason, that Quirinus is Augustus, but

Remus is said in place of Agrippa, who took Augustus’ daughter in marriage, and managed the wars with him on

equal footing” – Servius on Aeneid 1.292-293), possibly an attempt – either on Vergil’s or Servius’ part - to

manipulate the Romulus and Remus myth in a way that reflects positively upon the Augustan regime. Alternatively,

it may be a reference to a painting by Apelles placed in the Forum Augustum (Harrison 2006: 181-2), though our

description of that painting does not refer to Romulus and Remus directly (rather, it refers to other elements of

Jupiter’s prophecy).

132 Thomas 1988: 262.

54

While Vergil does not make explicit the connection between Remus’ death and the walls,

Tibullus and Propertius, Ovid’s elegiac predecessors, do. In Tibullus, Remus’ appearance

alludes to the contrast between the peaceful, rural existence that the twins lived before the

founding of Rome and the violence that Rome’s walls brought about:

Romulus aeternae nondum formauerat urbis

moenia, consorti non habitanda Remo;

sed tunc pascebant herbosa Palatia uaccae

et stabant humiles in Iouis arce casae.

(2.5.23-26)

Romulus had not yet formed the walls of the eternal city, walls not to be inhabited by his

brother Remus; but then cows were grazing on the grassy Palatine and humble houses

were standing on the citadel of Jove.

Moenia in line 24 brings to mind the violent death of Remus, while consorti in line 25, a

somewhat unusual word whose first meaning is “one who shares an inheritance,”133 highlights

the irony that Remus was Romulus’ “brother and coheir but…not a sharer in Romulus’ lot.”134

Remus appears in Propertius’ elegies in similar circumstances; moreover, these

appearances occur in contexts that are highly generically-charged. The first appearance is in 3.9,

a poem addressed to Maecenas in which Propertius performs a recusatio, claiming to be ill-

equipped to write epic poetry, and then asks for Maecenas’ help in undertaking such a

monumental task, including the story of the founding of Rome:

eductosque pares silvestri ex ubere reges,

ordiar et caeso moenia firma Remo,

celsaque Romanis decerpta palatia tauris,

crescet et ingenium sub tua iussa meum;

(3.9.46-49)

133 OLD on consors.

134 Putnam 1973: 186.

55

I will relate the kings raised as equals on the milk of a woodland creature, and the

walls made firm with Remus’ death, and the high Palatine cropped by Roman bulls, and

my skill will grow under your command...

The infancy of the twins and Remus’ death are included in Propertius’ list of “epic” subject

matter he might sing of with Maecenas’ help. As in Vergil’s Georgics, this topic is included

with a description of the rural pre-Roman landscape (celsaque Romanis decerpta palatia tauris,

3.9.48). But as in Horace, Tibullus, and other non-epic authors, Rome’s foundation is dependent

on the killing of Remus, even though that killing is itself, as an ablative absolute, grammatically

dependent. This, then, seems to be “epic” subject matter looked at from an “elegiac”

perspective, with its focus (albeit through an absolute construction) on the loss of Remus, who is

named, over the accomplishments of Romulus, who is not. It is interesting that here, as in

Tibullus (with consorti) and, later, in Ovid’s Fasti, the twins are represented as potential equals

(pares...reges, 3.9.46). Perhaps elegy, with its metrically unequal pair of lines, was somehow

better equipped to point out the irony inherent in the fact that the twin sons of Mars ended up

being treated with such drastic inequality by history. At any rate, Remus appears twice in

Propertius’ “history of Rome” in 4.1, as well:

qua gradibus domus ista Remi se sustulit, olim

unus erat fratrum maxima regna focus... 10

felix terra tuos cepit, Iule, deos,

si modo Auernalis tremulae cortina Sibyllae

dixit Auentino rura pianda Remo, 50

aut si Pergameae sero rata carmina uatis

longaeuum ad Priami uera fuere caput:

(4.1.9-10; 48-52)

Where Remus’ house has raised itself by its stairs, once a single hearth was the greatest

kingdom of the brothers...a happy land received your gods, Iulus, if once the tripod of

Avernus’ trembling Sibyl said that the countryside was to be purified by Aventine

Remus, or if the songs of the Pergamene seer regarding the ancient capital of Priam were

proved true later [i.e. by the foundation of Rome]:

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Once again, an elegiac work points out not only the juxtaposition between the foundation of

Rome and the death of Remus (4.1.50) but also the original equality of the two brothers (4.1.9-

10). The Palatine hill was known to be the site of Rome’s first settlement, so what is the “house

of Remus” (domus ista Remi, 4.1.9) to which Propertius refers? We know there were huts of

Romulus on the Capitoline and Palatine hills;135 Hutchinson thus explains Propertius’ obscure

reference as being a case in which “Remi can stand for both brothers, or Romulus.”136 This is far

from a compelling explanation without further evidence. Though it is true that Romulus’ name

cannot be accommodated to hexameters (or elegiacs) in the oblique cases, Edwards argues, in

response to Camps’ suggestion that Remi is a matter of metrical convenience, that “Remus’

unsettling presence in this idyllic picture of early Rome should not be so easily explained

away.”137 Propertius’ choice to name Remus rather than Romulus (or both twins) must have

some effect: “the brother dispossessed and murdered, the act of fratricide always already lurking

at the beginning of Roman history, prefiguring the succession of civil wars which, of course,

included the one that brought Augustus to power – a reminder of all this in the context of

Propertius’ Elegies is surely no metrical accident.”138 The reference to the hut(s) of Romulus

might have been especially pointed, as well, if, as Rea suggests, the hut of Romulus “was

adopted as an Augustan symbol” because it was “less specifically associated with the

monarchy,” allowing Augustus “to gloss over Romulus’ ‘other life’ of crime, which included the

135 Rea 2007; Eden 1979: 172-3.

136 Hutchinson 2006: 63.

137 Edwards 1996: 42.

138 Edwards 1996: 42.

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murder of his brother Remus.”139 Once again we have an elegiac perspective on the history of

Rome, and in it Remus, particularly through his death, plays a prominent role that points at the

troubling aspects of Rome’s beginnings.

Remus appears, then, to have been an appropriately “elegiac” character for Ovid to

explore. If Romulus was equated with arma (as he is several times in the Fasti and elsewhere,

considering his frequent depiction in iconography with the spolia opima) and with Augustus, he

was also a representative of martial epic. Likewise, Remus, being symbolic of those who

suffered in the civil wars, is an appropriate subject for querimonia and therefore for elegy, and

represents a questioning of the propaganda of victory so frequently exploited by Augustus.

Accordingly, in the story of Remus’ death in Fasti Book 4, Romulus, our representative

of martial epic, is influenced to speak elegiac words in mourning for his brother:

atque ait ‘invito frater adempte, vale!’

arsurosque artus unxit...

(Fast. 4.852-853)

And he said, “Farewell, brother snatched away from me unwilling!” and he anointed the

limbs about to burn...

These words reflect an intertext from Catullus, namely, the last lines of Catullus’ famous lament

to his dead brother’s ashes:

accipe fraterno multum manantia fletu,

atque in perpetuum, frater, aue atque uale.

(Catul. 101.9-10)

Receive these things, dripping much with a brother’s weeping, and forever, brother, hail

and farewell.

Written in elegiac meter, this poem is the epitome of elegy-as-lamentation, as the narrator

mourns while paying the proper funeral obsequies to his brother. The similarity to the Fasti

139 Rea 2007: 37.

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passage is clear: Romulus says “farewell” (vale, Fast. 4.852) to his brother while performing the

appropriate funeral rites. Thus Ovid draws on a well-known predecessor, an example of elegy as

the quintessential genre of lamentation, to emphasize the elegiac nature of the passage about

Remus’ death and funeral.

Remus The “Other”: Questioning Romulus’ Superiority

Of course, we cannot consider Remus’ role in the Fasti purely in literary terms, since he

is so closely associated with Romulus, one of the most important historical figures in Augustan

Rome. As I mentioned in the introduction, Suetonius (in Aug. 7.2) and Dio (at 53.16.5) claim

that the honorary name “Romulus” was almost chosen instead of “Augustus” for Octavian.

Works such as the huts of Romulus on the Palatine and Capitoline and the statue of Romulus

among the summi viri in the Forum of Augustus, along with (possibly) the Temple of Quirinus

and its pediment depicting the twins’ augury [Image 4], testify to Augustus’ interest in the

founding figure, the first pater patriae. In fact, the name “Augustus,” though it was chosen as an

alternative to Romulus, may still be a reference to Rome’s founder, since it shares a root with

augurium and therefore is a reminder of the fact that both Romulus and Augustus had their

supremacy confirmed by bird-sign.140 Ovid himself draws an explicit comparison between the

two leaders at Fast. 2.133-144 (a passage that I will discuss further below). The Fasti’s focus on

Romulus’ brother, then, the brother that Romulus (according to the majority of our surviving

ancient perspectives on the event) murdered, must have political import. A look at Ovid’s

manipulation of Remus’ traditional roles and the contexts in which he places him reveals that

140 Taylor 1931: 159. Ovid confirms the possible relationship between augustus and augurium at Fast. 1.611.

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Remus is presented as an equal, a potential alternative to Romulus who threatens the rhetoric of

Romulus as divinely-favored victor.

1. The Lupercalia: Remus as victor

The first passage in which Remus plays a pivotal role in the Fasti occurs in Book 2, in

the discussion of the Lupercalia on February 15th (Fast. 2.267-474). The Lupercalia were

ancient and highly important rites in Rome, and they had political significance, as well: it was

during the rites of the Lupercalia, a month before Julius Caesar’s assassination, that the dictator

(in)famously refused the crown offered to him by a drunk and naked Marc Antony, and Augustus

went out of his way to reinstate the Lupercalian rites – abolished for a little while at the end of

the Republic - once he became Emperor (nonnulla etiam ex antiquis caerimoniis paulatim

abolita restituit, ut Salutis augurium, Diale flamonium, sacrum Lupercale, ludos Saeculares et

Compitalicios. Lupercalibus vetuit currere inberbes – “He also re-established some of the

ancient ceremonies once abolished, like the augury of Salus, the flamen Dialis, the rite of the

Lupercal, the ludi Saeculares and Compitales. He forbade the unbearded to run in the

Lupercalia.” - Suetonius Aug. 31.4).141

Ovid begins his Lupercalia passage in the Fasti by attributing the rites to Faunus (Fauni

sacra bicornis eunt – Fast. 2.268). Then, having explained the origins of these rites (2.269-282),

he asks: why do the Luperci run, and why do they do so in the nude (cur igitur currant, et cur

(sic currere mos est)/nuda ferant posita corpora veste, rogas? Fast. 2.283-4)? The question

141 For further commentary on the Lupercalia’s history and importance, see Robinson 2011: 206-7.

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itself is provocative, as the Suetonius passage suggests that, while Augustus restored the rites of

the Lupercalia, he may have done something to mitigate the absolute nudity.142

Perhaps as a way of playing with the ambiguity of the origin of the Lupercal and its

attendant festival (for it seems to have been associated both with Greece and with native Italy),143

Ovid gives us two explanations – one “foreign” (peregrinis) and one “Latin” (Latinas – Fast.

2.359) - both for the name of the Lupercal and for the nudity and running in the ritual. The

“Latin” reasons connect the name and the ritual with the legend of Romulus and Remus.144

142 Holleman 1973: 262. He cites Ovid’s repeated emphasis on the antiquity of the aspect of nudity in the

Lupercalia episode of Book 2, as well as Iustinus 43.1, where the god Faunus is described as being covered with

some sort of loincloth – ipsum dei similacrum nudum caprina pelle amictum est, quo habitu nunc Romae

Lupercalibus decurritur.

143 Regarding the origins of the rites, Ovid explains that they were imported by Evander and his Arcadian

immigrants when they brought with them the worship of Pan, the protector of herds of both sheep and horses (Pan

erat armenti, Pan illic numen equarum;/munus ob incolumes ille ferebat oves – Fasti 2. 277-278). The story of

Pan’s migration from Arcadia and his association with the Lupercal is by no means Ovid’s invention: it appears also

in Aeneid Book 8: et gelida monstrat sub rupe Lupercal,/Parrhasio dictum Panos de more Lycaei (A. 8.343-344) –

“and [Evander] shows him the Lupercal underneath the cold rock,/named after the Parrhasian custom of Lycaean

Pan.” Italian Faunus’ association with the Greek Pan (via the legend of Evander) may very well have been a result of

the Hellenization that occurred when Rome conquered Greece; Bailey 1932: 100 suggests that the syncretism of the

two deities is one of the greatest examples of “the efforts made to link up by means of legend Rome’s history and

religion with those of Greece.” The result of this syncretism is that the actual rites of the Lupercalia – the running

and the nudity and the slapping of women – are open to a variety of interpretations. For the name of the famous

slope on the Palatine (the Lupercal), there are variant etymologies, some of which connect to the story of Romulus

and Remus (through lupa, the she-wolf) and some of which do not (connecting with the Greek Lykaion, an epithet of

Pan, or with luere per caprum – “to expiate through a goat”: Wiseman 1995:77-78). Even the Ficus Ruminalis, the

famous fig-tree that marked the place where the twins were washed up, has similarly varied explanations: its name

could come from ruma, meaning teat, and thus be a reference again to the she-wolf’s nourishment of the twin boys,

or it could have an explanation that is entirely unrelated to the story of the wolf and twins, such as a relationship to

the alleged ancient name of the Tiber (Rumon) or a connection to the “rumination” of the flocks. For the former

explanation, see Varro in Festus 332 L, Plutarch Romulus 4.1 and QR 57 (for others, see Wiseman ibid.192 n.3).

For the latter, see Servius on Aeneid 8.90 and Plutarch Romulus 4.1, Origo Gentis Romanae 20.4, Festus 332 L

(“distinguished,” Wiseman 1995: 192 explains, “from the Varronian etymology”). Livy connects the name

Ruminalis to the twins in a different way, claiming that Ruminalis used to be called Romularis, thus paying homage

to the twin who would later become founder of Rome (Livy 1.4). In Plutarch Romulus 4.1, this connection to

Romulus is given as an option as well as the derivation from the rumination of herds. As for the rite itself, the

number of variant explanations both attests to the ancient importance of the ritual and makes any sort of consensus

impossible (Wiseman 1995:77-8).

144 As Wiseman 1995: 88 explains, these foreign and Latin reasons are incompatible with each other: “Since the

twins’ life as adolescents was that of herdsmen, this part of the story was easily adaptable to the Lupercalia as a cult

of Pan. But the Pan cult was supposedly introduced by Evander and his Arcadians long before Numitor’s daughter

gave birth to the twins, with the result that the foundation story had to be uneasily accommodated to a Palatine

settlement that had already been founded once before. So when we find the suckling scene narrated at the holy place

dedicated to Pan by Evander, and the grown twins portrayed as taking part in a ritual to Pan that Evander had

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Our three major prose sources for the story of Romulus and Remus, Dionysius of

Halicarnassus, Livy, and Plutarch (see Appendix I.B), give a fair amount of detail about the

twins’ adolescence. The episode in which Romulus and Remus have to deal with cattle robbers

appears in all three of these sources (Livy 1.5, Dionysius 1.79.12, Plutarch Rom. 6.3-7.1). The

two brothers, having grown into precocious and aggressive young men, get their kicks either by

plundering others (Livy) or by retrieving plunder that had been stolen from their people

(Dionysius, Plutarch). A skirmish of some kind arises and the brothers are victorious together,

but somewhere along the line Remus is captured, leading to the discovery of the twins’ secret

identity by Amulius. Of these prose authors, only Livy connects this story to the Lupercalia, for

he claims that the theft of the cattle occurred while the twins were celebrating the rite, just as

Ovid does (cornipedi Fauno caesa de more capella; Fasti 2.361). Yet even in Livy, the twins’

pursuit of the robbers does not provide an explanation for the nude running of the Lupercalia,

whereas in Ovid, of course, this is the primary function of the episode. Sources that treat the

brought from his native Arcadia, we may take that as an indication that the story of Remus and Romulus evolved

later than the story of Evander, and had to be adapted to it..’. The “foreign” reason for Faunus’ hatred of clothing is

given in lines 303-58: Faunus, chancing upon Hercules and the Lydian princess, falls madly in love with Omphale

(Fast. 2.303-14). Unbeknownst to him, Omphale and Hercules trade clothing with each other in a cave (315-31), so

that when he sneaks into the cave and attempts to rape Omphale while she sleeps by feeling for her clothing, his

attempts happen upon Hercules instead (331-50), and Faunus, caught exposed, is rebuffed and deeply embarrassed

(351-58). This humorous episode is reminiscent of other passages in the Fasti, such as Priapus’ embarrassing mid-

rape exposure by Silenus’ ass (Fast. 1.391-440) and, later, Priapus’ foiled attempt to rape Vesta (foiled, again, by

Silenus’ ass) at Fast. 6. 319-48). Indeed, the similarity of these three episodes has led scholars to suggest that they

reflect a particular genre, such as mime (see McKeown 1979, Fantham 1983, Barchiesi 1997, Wiseman 2002,

Murgatroyd 2005). At the very least, our evidence suggests that “the obscenity and nudity” within such episodes “is

not in itself problematic in this poem, as obscenity and nudity form an integral part of certain Roman festivals and

state procedures, especially those concerned with fertility,” unless, of course, as Holleman suggests, Augustus

banished nudity in the Lupercalia (Green 2004: 184, on the Priapus story in Book 1). The tone of the running of the

Lupercii may well justify the light-hearted tone of the story in which Faunus, a Roman god, is embarrassed, while

Hercules, another Roman god, is caught cross-dressing (For the cross-dressing Hercules in elegiac poetry,

specifically Propertius, see Janan 2001 and DeBrohun 2003). Nevertheless, “the reader might well be justified to

ask what that type of story is doing in a purportedly Roman, nationalistic and religious poem...[since it is],

ironically, a story of failed fertility”(Green 2004: 184). The fact that this story seems to be entirely Ovid’s invention

makes us question its purpose in the discussion of the Lupercalia even further (Bömer 1958: 104: though Hercules’

relationship with Omphale has comic precedents and is a popular subject in iconography, Faunus’ mistake seems to

have no direct precedent).

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robbery in less detail also connect the Lupercalia to this story, and some “preserve an aition for

the nudity that seem broadly similar to Ovid’s account” (e.g. the summary of Gaius Acilius in

Plut. Rom. 21.10 and Servius at Aen. 8.343 and 8.663).145

More important for my purposes, however, is the fact that only in Ovid’s account is

Remus portrayed as victor and superior brother:146

...occursu praeda recepta Remi.

ut rediit, veribus stridentia detrahit exta

atque ait “haec certe non nisi victor edet.”

dicta facit, Fabiique simul. venit inritus illuc

Romulus et mensas ossaque nuda videt;

risit, et indoluit Fabios potuisse Remumque

vincere, Quintilios non potuisse suos.

(Fast. 2.372-378)

...the booty was taken back by Remus’ offensive. When he returns, he draws the hissing

innards off of the spits and says, “these certainly none but the victor will eat.” He does

the things he says and the Fabii do it, too. Romulus comes there in vain and sees the

tables and the nude bones; he laughed and mourned that the Fabii and Remus were able

to be victorious, while his Quintilii were not able.

Romulus, the brother who is usually portrayed as the victor (e.g. with the spolia opima), not only

in the literary sources but also in material media, is here inritus. This renders ironic the

introduction of the passage in which the twins are referred to as Romulus et frater (Fast. 2.365),

a clever twist on Vergil’s Remus et frater at Georgics 2.533 (discussed on p.53);147 while

Vergil’s Remus is the inferior but is privileged by name, in Ovid’s version of things Romulus is

the inferior (at least in this situation) but is privileged by name. His brother Remus has gotten

the spoils (praeda) and now celebrates his victory with a vaunting boast much like the one-liners

145 Robinson 2011: 250.

146 “It has…ben argued (primarily on the basis of fr. 69-71 Sk.) that Ennius included a similar story…in the

Annales, but there it was Romulus, not Remus who was the winner…this would make Ovid’s account particularly

striking. Even as it is, however, Remus’ prominence here is unusual…”(Robinson 2011: 251).

147 Barchiesi 1997: 156; Robinson 2011: 257.

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typically given to Romulus, such as his “sic deinde, quicumque alius transiliet moenia mea”

(“may this happen to any other who hereafter crosses my walls”) upon Remus’ death in Livy

(1.7). We must remember that the outcome in the major prose sources is actually Remus’

capture by Amulius’ people, not his victory over his brother! Romulus is, of course, unhappy

about Ovid’s version of things, but he also laughs (indoluit…risit, Fast. 2.377). Romulus’

laughter may be a reflection of the tone of the Lupercalia ritual; on the other hand, it may reveal

that, to Romulus, Remus’ temporary victory is incongruous. Barchiesi explains the contradiction

between the two words by suggesting that risit describes Romulus’ external reaction and indoluit

his internal one; further, this internal reaction may be an indication of something more sinister at

play, since the verb indolesco is elsewhere used only of Juno’s simmering anger and, when

applied to Romulus, could be considered foreshadowing of Remus’ death.148 If it is an indication

that Romulus is hiding his true feelings, then it foreshadows the repression of his grief upon

Remus’ death at Fast. 4.845-846 (haec ubi rex didicit, lacrimas introrsus obortas/devorat et

clausum pectore volnus habet - “When the king learned these things, he smothered the tears

welling up and kept the wound closed in his breast”).

Whatever we make of Romulus’ reaction to Remus’ victory, what is clear is that,

uniquely in Roman literature, the Fasti’s Luperalia passage shows Remus getting the better of

his brother. Jacqueline Fabre-Serris argues, however, that this victory and Remus’ vaunting are

emblematic of a flaw shared by Remus, the Fabii, and Faunus: haste.149 She seeks to show that

Remus’ victory is not meant to be appreciated as a victory but rather as an example of the

foolishness “which causes [him] to believe too soon that [he has achieved] a definitive victory,”

148 Barchiesi 1997: 158-9.

149 Fabre-Serris 2013.

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a foolishness that is repeated during the augury, where “Remus, once again, believed too soon

that he had won.”150 But while Remus’ victory over Romulus in the story of the cattle robbers is

short-lived in the scope of time that sees Romulus become the first king of Rome and,

eventually, a god, it is a victory nonetheless, nor are there any words that suggest undue haste on

Remus’ behalf. Instead, this victory suggests that Remus is as capable of accomplishment as his

brother.151

2. The Parilia: an ambiguous augury and an unusual “fratricide”

Book 4 contains the longest episode involving Remus; it is also the episode for which

there are the most literary comparanda, as it includes the taking of the auguries and the death of

Remus. Though most versions of the Romulus and Remus story agree about the early elements

of the twins’ lives – their parentage by Mars and the Vestal Virgin Rhea Silvia, their exposure by

usurping uncle Amulius, and their salvation by a she-wolf and, later, the shepherd Faustulus –

the story diverges drastically when it comes to the augury and the founding of Rome:

Quoniam gemini essent nec aetatis uerecundia discrimen facere posset, ut di quorum

tutelae ea loca essent auguriis legerent qui nomen nouae urbi daret, qui conditam imperio

regeret, Palatium Romulus, Remus Auentinum ad inaugurandum templa capiunt. Priori

Remo augurium uenisse fertur, sex uoltures; iamque nuntiato augurio cum duplex

numerus Romulo se ostendisset, utrumque regem sua multitudo consalutauerat: tempore

illi praecepto, at hi numero auium regnum trahebant. Inde cum altercatione congressi

certamine irarum ad caedem uertuntur; ibi in turba ictus Remus cecidit. Volgatior fama

est ludibrio fratris Remum nouos transiluisse muros; inde ab irato Romulo, cum uerbis

quoque increpitans adiecisset 'Sic deinde, quicumque alius transiliet moenia mea',

interfectum.

150 Fabre-Serris 2013: 96. Strangely, in Ovid’s account, there is no indication that Remus believed that he had

won the augury (Fast. 4.813-818), and so Fabre-Serris draws her conclusions based on the traditional accounts, not

Ovid’s account.

151 The connection to the Fabii will be explored further below.

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(Livy 1.6.4-1.7.2)

As they were twins and no claim to precedence could be based on seniority, they decided

to consult the tutelary deities of the place by means of augury as to who was to give his

name to the new city, and who was to rule it after it had been founded. Romulus

accordingly selected the Palatine as his station for observation, Remus the Aventine.

Remus is said to have been the first to receive an omen: six vultures appeared to him. The

augury had just been announced to Romulus when double the number appeared to him.

Each was saluted as king by his own party. The one side based their claim on the priority

of the appearance, the other on the number of the birds. Then followed an angry

altercation; heated passions led to bloodshed; in the tumult Remus was killed. The more

common report is that Remus contemptuously jumped over the newly raised walls and

was forthwith killed by the enraged Romulus, who exclaimed, "So shall it be henceforth

with every one who leaps over my walls."152

Livy’s version, written not too long before Ovid’s, seems to reflect the surviving majority view

regarding the augury (shared also by Dionysius of Halicarnassus at 1.86.3-4 and Plutarch at Rom.

9.5): Remus saw only six birds to Romulus’ twelve, but his vision came before Romulus’. What

is not represented in Livy but appears in Dionysius and Plutarch is the idea that Romulus

cheated, claiming to have seen birds before Remus did.153 In all of these versions there is a

question of whether Remus’ priority or Romulus’ superior numbers should win the day, leading

to some sort of conflict.154

Ambiguity rules the day in the fragment of Ennius’ Annales about the augury, too. It is

reproduced in full in Appendix I.B, but most important for my purposes are the following lines:

exin candida se radiis dedit icta foras lux

et simul ex alto longe pulcerrima praepes

laeva volavit avis. simul aureus exoritur sol

152 Translation from Roberts 1912.

153 See Wiseman 1995: 8 on the suspicion of cheating.

154 Ogilvie 1965: 55 notes that “nowhere else is the number of birds held to be significant, which might suggest

that the whole episode is of later creation when Etruscan diviniation had predicted a life-cycle of 12 saecula for

Rome.” Indeed, the uniqueness of Romulus’ vision and its significance makes it quite probable that “when Octavian

claimed to have seen 12 vutures on 19 August 43 B.C., he was asserting his connexion with Romulus.”

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cedunt de caelo ter quattuor corpora sancta

avium, praepetibus sese pulcrisque locis dant.

conspicit inde sibi data Romulus esse propritim

auspicio regni stabilita scamna solumque.

(Ann. 85-91)

And then bright light, struck forth, revealed itself by the sun’s beams, and at that moment

from afar on high a most handsome swift flock flew by on the left. As soon as the golden

sun arose, there make their way from the sky thrice four holy birds and disport

themselves in fine lofty places. And so Romulus gathered that to him was given, as his

own possession, kingship’s seat and territory, established by the omen.155

The action of the birds is, in the version of the text that has reached us, confusing and a bit

ambiguous. Are there two different bird flocks, one with its number unnamed and the other

specifically described as being made up of twelve birds? Or are the two flocks described in lines

86-91 actually the same flock? The matter is complicated by the fact that, indeed, the entire

passage seems to contradict itself if we take it chronologically, with the result that Skutsch –

following Vahlen – explains that “the narrative does not proceed in a straight line.”156 More

troubling is the end of the fragment, since “after the detailed description of the sign, we should

expect a more emphatic announcement that it was given to Romulus.”157 Indeed, Romulus’

interpretation that the victory was granted to him is, even in Ennius’ version of the story (at least

in the extant rendition of it), not obviously supported by the evidence at hand.

Ovid’s version, too, plays with ambiguity:

‘nil opus est’ dixit ‘certamine’ Romulus ‘ullo:

magna fides avium est: experiamur aves.’

res placet: alter adit nemorosi saxa Palati,

alter Aventinum mane cacumen init.

sex Remus, hic volucres bis sex videt ordine; pacto

155 Translation from Elliott 2013: 244.

156 Skutsch 1985: 222.

157 Skutsch 1985: 222-223.

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statur, et arbitrium Romulus urbis habet.

(Fast. 4.813-818)

“There is no need of any contest,” said Romulus: “great faith is put in birds; let us make

trial of birds.” The proposal is accepted. One goes to the rocks of the wooded Palatine,

the other goes to the top of the Aventine early in the morning. Remus sees six birds,

Romulus sees twice six in succession. The pact is honored, and Romulus holds

government of the city.

Missing from this passage is the argument over whom the augury really favors. Brotherly

concord wins out. But there is ambiguity present in the augury itself, through the word ordine,

“in succession.” Were Romulus’ birds seen in succession to Remus’, or simply in succession to

each other? Nor is it clear which brother is on which hill. Ovid also uses ambiguous language to

refer to the augury in Book 5:

huic Remus insiterat frustra, quo tempore fratri

prima Palatinae signa dedistis aves.

(Fast. 5.151-152)

Here Remus stood in vain, at that time when you Palatine birds gave the first signs to his

brother.

The word prima suggests that Romulus saw the birds before Remus did, but there is no other

version that we know of where this is the case. Thus Ovid’s prima must be stretched tenuously

to mean “first-class, of absolute primacy,”158 unless we accept that he is deliberately

contradicting his earlier version and pointing out the ambiguity in the event - and why shouldn’t

we?159

158 Barchiesi 1997: 170.

159 Interestingly, in the Origo gentis Romanae, the “agreement” that was made between the two brothers was,

originally, that whoever was given a good omen first (chronologically) would win: avo Numitore arbitre ascito

placuit disceptatores eius coiitroversiae immortales deos sumere, ita ut, utri eorum priori secunda auspicia

obvenissent, urbem conderet eamque ex suo nomine nuncuparet atque in ea regni summam teneret. – “They decided

to take the immortal gods as settlers of their argument, with Numitor summoned as judge, so that, to whichever of

them favorable auspices came first, he would found a city and name it from his own name and hold the highest

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Whatever the case, Ovid appears in the passage from Fasti 4 to be “sweeping something

under the carpet” by refusing to give any easy indication of when Romulus saw his augury and in

the passage from Fasti 5 to be “overly careful to smooth over the difficulties raised by the

tradition” in a way that can hardly have been believable, as Barchiesi argues.160 By rewriting the

story, Ovid merely “underlines” such difficulties.161 Regardless of whether he intended to

question the story of the augury, the result of Ovid’s play with ambiguity is that, more than ever,

we are left wondering which twin truly deserved to be the “winner” of the contest and how easily

the result could have swung in the opposite direction, especially since there is no apparent

divinity guiding the decision.

When we compare this interpretation to the frieze that was (probably) on the Temple of

Quirinus [Image 4], which represented Romulus as the divinely-sponsored winner, Ovid’s (and

other authors’) focus on the ambiguities of the augury becomes that much more significant.

Likewise, the placement of the Lares directly before the second augury passage is compelling, as

the twin Lares, who are represented as equals, serve as foils to the twin sons of Mars, whose

lives turned out so differently:

Praestitibus Maiae Laribus videre Kalendae

aram constitui parvaque signa deum...

causa tamen positi fuerat cognominis illis,

quod praestant oculis omnia tuta suis.

stant quoque pro nobis et praesunt moenibus Urbis...

bina gemellorum quaerebam signa deorum

position of power in it.” (Origo Gentis Romanae, 23.1) It was only after Romulus forced the issue that the

agreement was revised. There are certainly difficulties with using the Origo as a source, given its late composition

and several issues with regard to which it appears to be unique (cf. Momigliano 1960: 167). Nevertheless, at the

very least it may have been based on handbooks from the Augustan age (Momigliano 1960: 173). Is Ovid, then, in

the Fasti – by insinuating a version unheard of in his own day through prima – reminding his readers of a tradition

in which Remus should, by all accounts, have been the winner if he saw the birds first?

160 Barchiesi 1997: 170.

161 Barchiesi 1997: 170.

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viribus annosae facta caduca morae:

(Fast. 5.129-144)

The Kalends of May saw that an altar and little statues of the gods were established for

the Lares Praestites...nevertheless the cause of the title given to them is that they

guarantee all things will be safe with their eyes. They stand also on our behalf and they

guard the walls of the city...I was seeking the twin statues of the twin gods decayed by

the strength of passing years.

The twin Lares stand (stant, 5.135) as protectors of the city, twin gods with twin statues. In the

very next episode, Remus stands “in vain” on the Aventine (huic Remus institerat frustra, 5.151)

when his brother was given the ambiguously “first” bird signs. The concordant twins clash with

the discordant ones, emphasizing again the fact that Remus, as Romulus’ twin, ought to be just as

visible in the city of Rome as his brother.

As for Remus’ death, the version given in Book 4 of the Fasti diverges from most other

sources. Though Dionysius of Halicarnassus gives a similar account, he claims that it is not very

believable:

ἀποθανόντος δ᾽ ἐν τῇ μάχῃ Ῥώμου νίκην οἰκτίστην ὁ Ῥωμύλος ἀπό τε τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ καὶ

πολιτικῆς ἀλληλοκτονίας ἀνελόμενος τὸν μὲν Ῥῶμον ἐν τῇ Ῥεμορίᾳ θάπτει, ἐπειδὴ καὶ

ζῶν τοῦ χωρίου τῆς κτίσεως περιείχετο, αὐτὸς δὲ ὑπὸ λύπης τε καὶ μετανοίας τῶν

πεπραγμένων παρεὶς ἑαυτὸν εἰς ἀπόγνωσιν τοῦ βίου τρέπεται. τῆς δὲ Λαυρεντίας, ἣ

νεογνοὺς παραλαβοῦσα ἐξεθρέψατο καὶ μητρὸς οὐχ ἧττον ἠσπάζετο, δεομένης καὶ

παρηγορούσης, ταύτῃ πειθόμενος ἀνίσταται: συναγαγὼν δὲ τοὺς Λατίνους, ὅσοι μὴ κατὰ

τὴν μάχην διεφθάρησαν, ὀλίγῳ πλείους ὄντας τρισχιλίων ἐκ πάνυ πολλοῦ κατ᾽ ἀρχὰς

γενομένου πλήθους, ὅτε τὴν ἀποικίαν ἔστελλε, πολίζει τὸ Παλλάντιον. ὁ μὲν οὖν

πιθανώτατος τῶν λόγων περὶ τῆς Ῥώμου τελευτῆς οὗτος εἶναί μοι δοκεῖ. λεγέσθω δ᾽

ὅμως καὶ εἴ τις ἑτέρως ἔχων παραδέδοται. φασὶ δή τινες συγχωρήσαντ᾽ αὐτὸν τῷ

Ῥωμύλῳ τὴν ἡγεμονίαν, ἀχθόμενον δὲ καὶ δι᾽ ὀργῆς ἔχοντα τὴν ἀπάτην, ἐπειδὴ

κατεσκευάσθη τὸ τεῖχος φλαῦρον ἀποδεῖξαι τὸ ἔρυμα βουλόμενον, Ἀλλὰ τοῦτό γ᾽,

εἰπεῖν, οὐ χαλεπῶς ἄν τις ὑμῖν ὑπερβαίη πολέμιος, ὥσπερ ἐγώ: καὶ αὐτίκα ὑπεραλέσθαι:

Κελέριον δέ τινα τῶν ἐπιβεβηκότων τοῦ τείχους, ὃς ἦν ἐπιστάτης τῶν ἔργων, Ἀλλὰ

τοῦτόν γε τὸν πολέμιον οὐ χαλεπῶς ἄν τις ἡμῶν ἀμύναιτο, εἰπόντα, πλῆξαι τῷ σκαφείῳ

κατὰ τῆς κεφαλῆς καὶ αὐτίκα ἀποκτεῖναι: τὸ μὲν δὴ τέλος τῆς στάσεως τῶν ἀδελφῶν

τοιοῦτο λέγεται γενέσθαι. (D.H. 1.87)

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(87) Remus having been slain in this action, Romulus, who had gained a most

melancholy victory through the death of his brother and the mutual slaughter of citizens,

buried Remus at Remoria, since when alive he had clung to it as the site for the new city.

As for himself, in his grief and repentance for what had happened, he became dejected

and lost all desire for life. But when Laurentia, who had received the babes when newly

born and brought them up and loved them no less than a mother, entreated and comforted

him, he listened to her and rose up, and gathering together the Latins who had not been

slain in the battle (they were now little more than three thousand out of a very great

multitude at first, when he led out the colony), he built a city on the Palatine hill. The

account I have given seems to me the most probable of the stories about the death of

Remus. However, if any has been handed down that differs from this, let that also be

related. Some, indeed, say that Remus yielded the leadership to Romulus, though not

without resentment and anger at the fraud, but that after the wall was built, wishing to

demonstrate the weakness of the fortification, he cried, "Well, as for this wall, one of

your enemies could as easily cross it as I do," and immediately leaped over it. Thereupon

Celer, one of the men standing on the wall, who was overseer of the work, said, "Well, as

for this enemy, one of us could easily punish him," and striking him on the head with a

mattock, he killed him then and there. Such is said to have been the outcome of the

quarrel between the brothers.162

Dionysius’ first version of Remus’ death attributes Remus’ death to the fray that resulted after

the augury, when Romulus’ cheating led to an argument between the brothers and their factions.

The second one, in which Celer, the “overseer” of the wall, is offended by Remus’ mocking

words and kills him with a shovel, is adopted by Ovid:

augurio laeti iaciunt fundamina cives, 835

et novus exiguo tempore murus erat.

hoc Celer urget opus, quem Romulus ipse vocarat,

'sint' que, 'Celer, curae' dixerat 'ista tuae,

neve quis aut muros aut factam vomere fossam

transeat; audentem talia dede neci.' 840

quod Remus ignorans humiles contemnere muros

coepit, et 'his populus' dicere 'tutus erit?'

nec mora, transiluit: rutro Celer occupat ausum;

ille premit duram sanguinulentus humum.

haec ubi rex didicit, lacrimas introrsus obortas 845

devorat et clausum pectore volnus habet.

flere palam non volt exemplaque fortia servat,

'sic' que 'meos muros transeat hostis' ait.

dat tamen exsequias; nec iam suspendere fletum

sustinet, et pietas dissimulata patet; 850

162 Translation from Cary 1937.

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(Fast. 4.835-848)

The citizens, made happy by the augury, cast the foundation, and there was a new wall in

little time. Celer urges on this work, whom Romulus himself had called and said “Let

these things be under your care, Celer, nor let anyone cross the walls or the ditch made

with the plow: put the one daring such things to death.” Not knowing this, Remus began

to mock the humble walls and to say, “will the people be safe with these?” Without

delay, he leapt over them. Celer attacks the daring man with a shovel; he, bloody, presses

the hard ground. When the king learns these things, he smothers the tears rising within

himself and keeps the wound closed in his breast, he does not wish to weep openly and

models brave behavior, and says, “thus may an enemy cross my walls.”

Ovid is clearly familiar with Livy’s version of the story, given the near-quotation of

Romulus’ famous words ("Sic deinde, quicumque alius transiliet moenia mea", Livy 1.7) at

Fast.4.848 ('sic' que 'meos muros transeat hostis' ait). And yet it is not Romulus who kills his

brother, as we might expect, but Celer. This is a surprising move on Ovid’s part, not only

because Roman authors like Livy and Horace prefer the fratricidal version, but also because it

seems to contradict another passage in the Fasti. During the lengthy comparison between

Romulus and Augustus in which Romulus is portrayed in a negative fashion, the narrator claims

that Remus accuses (incusat, 2.143) his brother, presumably for his death:

tu domini nomen, principis ille tenet;

te Remus incusat, veniam dedit hostibus ille; caelestem fecit te pater, ille patrem.

(Fast. 2.142-4)

You had the title Master: he bears the name of Leader. Remus accuses you, while the

other pardons his enemies. Your father deified you: he deified his father.

In Fasti Book 4, Romulus seems to be portrayed as a pious leader who accepts the unfortunate

events that come his way in an honorable manner: he gives the proper rites and delays his tears

until the appropriate time, modeling brave behavior (4.47-50). Given the negative portrayal of

Romulus in Book 2, scholars have attempted to make sense of the unusual view of Romulus in

Book 4: some see in it a truly apologetic view of Romulus (and thereby, perhaps, Augustus) with

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regards to the civil wars,163 or they argue for a more subversive reading that takes into account

the fact that the narrative is focalized through Romulus/Quirinus and therefore might be

biased.164

What is important for my current purposes, however, is not what this passage has to say

about Romulus’ culpability in Remus’ death, but rather the fact that, while Ovid clearly knows

the version of the story that Livy considers more common, in Book 4 he chooses a less common

and contradictory version that makes it look as though Remus’ death was just a terrible mistake,

the senseless result of a too-hasty (Celer) man following his superior’s orders too faithfully.

This takes away Romulus’ traditional physical superiority over his brother. Rather than deciding

his brother’s fate – whether through impulsive anger or justified retribution for the transgression

of sacred boundaries – Romulus becomes, like his brother, the victim of unfortunate

circumstance.

3. The Lemuria: Remus, a ghostly equal

163 Herbert-Brown 1994: 45 claims that Ovid would not have tried to use the Fasti as a way to get out of exile if

he did not honestly believe that it would be interpreted as sincere. Also, it is Ovid who selects this particular version

of the Romulus story, no matter how he tries to hide this fact through the guise of divine inspiration (Harries 1998:

182-183). Fantham also claims that the negative portrayal of Romulus need not reflect poorly on Augustus:

“Romulus, the city’s first founder, was Pater Patriae, as was Augustus; but if the poet treats Romulus unfavourably,

when comparing him with Augustus, and recalls the offences of the fratricide whose name Octavian had declined

when he chose the title of ‘Augustus’ twenty-five years earlier in 27 BC, need this have offended?”(Fantham 2005:

41).

164 Harries 1998: 170-171 -“Invoked to assist the telling of Rome’s foundations, Romulus selects an unusual

version of the traditional story… The incompatibility of this version with, for example, that at 2.143 where

Romulus’ guilt is alluded to, can be explained (though it usually isn’t) by the fact that the whole account from 4.809

to 862 is directed by the presence of Romulus himself…” Murgatroyd 2005: 45 puts it this way: “But, of course,

Quirinus himself lies behind this account, and some may feel that he cannot be trusted… but here the fact that he

devotes almost half of the passage…to make it look as if this was something which affected him deeply… may

[make us] feel that the sadness is genuine, unless, that is, Quirinus is very clever and cunning. I think that all of this

is meant to be an enigma for us.” Though it is difficult to claim that Quirinus is being “genuine,” we may at the

very least assert that he is not disinterested.

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The account of Remus’ afterlife continues the themes begun in the account of his death.

At Fast. 5.419-92 (cited in full in Appendix I.A), Ovid discusses the Lemuria of May 9th, an

ancient rite (ritus...veteris...sacri, 5.421) that involved propitiation of the family dead, “the

cleansing of ancestral dead from the home.”165 To judge by the fantastic aristocratic funerals of

the time, as well as the cult of ancestors evidenced by ancestor masks and rites such as the

Parentalia and the Feralia, the propitiation of the family dead was an integral part of both public

and private social behaviors. Fortunately, Ovid provides us with a detailed description of the

rite: at midnight, the barefoot celebrant gets up, washes his hands in spring water, and, without

looking, throws beans that are meant to be collected by the shades (5.429-40). He then clashes

bronze and exorcises the ghosts from his household (5.441-4). After describing the rite, Ovid

moves on to question the origin of the name “Lemuria.” Claiming that he himself does not know

(5.445-6), the poet summons Mercury to provide the following answer: after Romulus buried

Remus, Faustulus and Acca Larentia return home and go to bed (5.451-6). The ghost of Remus

appears to them (perhaps in a dream) and recites a lengthy lament about his own death, followed

by an appeal to his foster parents to beg Romulus to establish a day in his honor (5.457-74).

Faustulus and Acca Larentia try to embrace him in vain, and when the vision is over they report

it to Romulus, who duly establishes the Lemuria (previously “Remuria”) in Remus’ honor

(5.475-84).

As I mentioned above, Remus emphasizes that he was Romulus’ equal, half (dimidium

5.459) of a whole. He appeals to his divine parentage and to the marvelous circumstances of his

birth to argue that his death was unwarranted: his father Mars ought to have saved him, since he,

like his brother Romulus, was saved by the wolf, presumably so that he could take part in greater

165 Dufallo 2007: 6.

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things. Wiseman comments on the strangeness of Remus’ death at length: not only is it unique

in the context of Indo-European divine twin foundation figures,166 but it also begs the question of

why Remus even existed in the myth, if his fate was to be killed off.167 In Ovid’s passage,

Remus seems to be aware of such questions: if he was Romulus’ twin and equal, if he was born

from the same divine father and equally marked by the hand of fate when he was saved by the

she-wolf, is it not objectionable that he should die so ignominiously? It is notable that in framing

this argument, Remus appeals to the two most well-known images associated with himself in

Roman iconography: Mars and the she-wolf (heu ubi Mars pater est? si vos modo vera

locuti,/uberaque expositis ille ferina dedit – “Alas, where is my father Mars? If only you spoke

the truth, and he gave a wild animal’s udders to the exposed.” Fasti 5.465-466). This gives his

lament added significance, for it makes Remus’ words an expression of the somewhat sinister,

fratricidal “other reading” of the image of the wolf and twins. In other words, Remus’ words

conjure up the images in order to highlight how uneasily they sit in relation to his fate. This

uneasiness is highlighted by Ovid throughout the Fasti, but nowhere more explicitly than here,

where he puts it in Remus’ own mouth.

The placement of the Lemuria passage in proximity with a reference to the Dioscuri also

emphasizes Remus’ potential equality to his brother. About 200 lines after the Lemuria passage

(and about 100 lines after the description of the statue of Romulus in the Forum Augustum at

Fasti 5.565), the poet explains the Gemini constellation (Fasti 5.693-720). The brother

Tyndarids (Tyndaridae fratres, 5.700) carry off the daughters of Leucippus, whose previous

fiances (Idas and Lynceus) fight with Castor and Pollux for their promised brides. Castor is

166 Wiseman 1995: 5-8 and passim.

167 “First, why a twin in the first place? Second, why call him Remus? Third, once you have him, why kill him

off?” (Wiseman 1995: 17).

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killed in the action, and Pollux, the immortal twin, begs to share his immortality with his mortal

brother rather than accepting his death:

“iamque tibi, Pollux, caelum sublime patebat,

cum ‘mea’ dixisti ‘percipe verba, pater:

quod mihi das uni caelum, partire duobus;

dimidium toto munere maius erit.’

dixit et alterna fratrem statione redemit:

utile sollicitae sidus utrumque rati.”

(Fast. 5.715-720)

And now the lofty heaven was already opening for you, Pollux, when you said, “Hear my

words, father: that heaven which you are granting to one, share with two: one half will be

greater than the whole gift.” He spoke and redeemed his brother with an alternating

station. Both stars are useful to the troubled ship.

With the word dimidium (5.718) we are reminded of the dimidium in Remus’ speech

(5.459), in which he argued that, because he (as Romulus’ twin) is half of a whole, an equal part,

he deserves honors greater than what he receives. In the story of Castor and Pollux, however, the

situation is exactly reversed: Castor and Pollux were not equal. In fact, Pollux was immortal

while Castor was not. Despite Pollux’s natural superiority over his brother, however, brotherly

love leads him to surrender part of his promised glory, to sacrifice half of his immortality so that

he can share it with his brother. Mercury narrates this story, just as he informed the story of the

Lemuria, but a shared narrator and relative proximity are not the only things that argue for a

comparison between the two sets of twin; the literary and material history of the Dioscuri shows

that they were nearly as important to Roman consciousness as Romulus and Remus were.

The Dioscuri were a popular numismatic image. From the late 3rd century BCE

onward,168 one of the most common new coin types portrayed Roma on the obverse and the

168 After the conquest of Magna Graecia, when Greek mines and techniques began to be used to mint the new

denarius (ca.213 BCE): see Bieber 1973: 872. Before this, the simple god-and-ship’s-prow combination dominated

bronze coins (like the coin discussed in the Janus passage of the Fasti). These coins with their references to Roman

gods and Roman military victory simply performed what, according to Crawford, was the most important function

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Dioscuri on the reverse. The Dioscuri are most commonly depicted with stars over their heads,

riding galloping horses, though there are some variations. Bieber calls this Roma/Dioscuri type,

which is found from the beginning of the denarius down to the late second century B.C.E.,

“purely Roman.”169 These coins appeared long before Ovid’s day, and they serve to establish the

Dioscuri’s long iconographic history among the Roman people, which was exemplified also in

the temple of Castor and Pollux and the eggs that stood in the Circus Maximus.170

The Dioscuri are popular among Roman authors, as well. In Vergil’s Aeneid (6.121-

122), Castor and Pollux are portrayed as occupying the world of the dead and the world of the

living on alternating days;171 this myth, also related in the Fasti, appeared in Greece as early as

the 5th century BCE, in Pindar’s Nemean Ode 10. In Cicero, the Dioscuri (called Tyndarids)

appear in Roman contexts in De Natura Deorum (2.5), while in De Divinatione (1.75) and later

of numismatic iconography, namely, a statement that allowed for recognition of the authority by which coins were

issued (Crawford 1983).

169 Bieber 1973: 873. Fowler, too, insists that the cult of the Dioscuri at Rome “did not come direct from Greek

sources.” He suggests that, rather, it “had its origin, perhaps, in the period when Rome was in close relation with

Latin cities, which themselves had been gradually absorbing the cults and products of the Greeks of

Campania.”(Fowler 1916: 232)

170 That the Dioscuri had a Roman identity drawn from Italic sources is well attested (for example,

DeGrummond 1991 shows the presence of the Dioscuri in early Etruscan art). The Temple of Castor and Pollux was

dedicated in 484 or 482 BCE by the consul Postumius, in honor of the Battle of Lake Regillus in 499 or 496, in

which the Dioscuri were said to have aided the Romans, and Castor and Pollux were also said to have announced the

victory over Perseus at the Battle of Pydna in 168 BCE (Cicero N.D. 2.5). But a bronze plaque dedicated to the

twins that was discovered in 1959 suggests that their history among the Roman people goes even further back, into

the late sixth century (Cornell 1995: 294). Besides their role in early Roman history, they became associated with

the Roman equites, the order of knights, although the reasons for this association are not entirely clear (Fowler 1916:

232). An early festival called the transvectio equitum was celebrated by the equites on July 15th, the anniversary of

the Battle of Lake Regillus. The eggs that stood in the Circus Maximus represented Castor and Pollux, making them

overseers of the chariot races (Humphrey 1996: 260). Indeed, the common oaths “Mecastor” and “Edepol” (short

for “Edepollux”) reveal the extent to which these two sons of Jupiter had permeated the Roman mind.

171 Si fratrem Pollux alterna morte redemit/itque reditque uiam totiens… “If Pollux has rescued his brother with

a reciprocal death/and comes and returns on the way so often…” Rebeggiani 2013 discusses other (less explicit)

references to the Dioscuri in the Aeneid.

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in the De Natura Deorum (3.53) their Greek exploits and origins are emphasized. In Propertius,

the Dioscuri are invoked by sailors in distress (1.17.18).

At any rate, the Dioscuri were well-known to Ovid’s audience as divine twins who had –

in contrast to Romulus and Remus – an equal share in the fruits of their divine heritage. Their

material representation, as equal twins, echoed that of the infant Romulus and Remus. However,

Ovid’s juxtaposition of the appearance of Remus’ ghost with the story of Pollux’s sacrifice for

his mortal brother draws to attention the areas in which Romulus was lacking. While Remus was

Romulus’ equal and was therefore unjustly kept from (perhaps) an equal share in the rulership of

their new city, Castor and Pollux were able to share the greatest of glories: immortality. The

juxtaposition of both sets of twins, then, highlights the immense difference between the two and

throws into relief the dark underbelly of the image of the peaceful twins promoted by Augustus,

whereby one of the twins is unfairly bereft of his glory.

Thus the narrative about Remus that is woven throughout the Fasti, taken as a whole, has

this to say: Remus was never naturally inferior to his brother; in fact, he was just as capable of

victory (Book 2). But ambiguous circumstances (the augury) and the careless behavior of one of

Romulus’ subjects – not divine favor or the physical strength of one brother over the other – lead

to Remus’ death (Book 4), an occurrence that Remus himself assures the audience was both

unwarranted and unfair given the circumstances of his birth (Book 5).

This insistence on Remus’ equality to Romulus and the injustice of his demise is surely

significant given the political context of Ovid’s work. By having Remus, Romulus’ traditional

“opponent” in civil strife, insist on his equal divinity (heu ubi Mars pater est?, Fast. 5.465),

Ovid throws into question Augustus’ rhetoric of singular divinity, of being the gods’ favorite, as

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Romulus was. Moreover, this is not the only time when Ovid expresses skepticism about

Octavian’s divinity. Perhaps most explicit is Metamorphoses 15:

Caesar in urbe sua deus est. quem Marte togaque

praecipuum non bella magis finita triumphis

resque domi gestae properataque gloria rerum

in sidus uertere nouum stellamque comantem,

quam sua progenies...

Ne foret hic igitur mortali semine cretus,

ille deus faciendus erat...

(Met. 15.746-61)

Caesar is a god in his own city; whom, illustrious in war and in peace, not the wars

finished with triumphs and his deeds at home and his hurried glory turned into a new star

and a flaming comet, but his own progeny... lest he be created from a mortal seed, that

one had to be made a god...

At the very least, Remus’ equality to his brother in the Fasti seems to question the rhetoric that

made Augustus/Romulus naturally superior to his opponents and suggests that the question of

who comes out as leader is often a matter of difference in circumstance.

There are three passages in the Fasti that seem to contradict this interpretation, however.

The first is the story of the twins’ abandonment in Book 2. The servants ordered to expose the

twin infants bring them to the edge of the Tiber, at which point they observe that one of the

babies is more dynamic than the other:

huc ubi venerunt (neque enim procedere possunt

longius), ex illis unus et alter ait:

‘at quam sunt similes! at quam formosus uterque!

plus tamen ex illis iste vigoris habet.

si genus arguitur voltu, nisi fallit imago,

nescioquem in vobis suspicor esse deum –

at siquis vestrae deus esset originis auctor,

in tam praecipiti tempore ferret opem...

(Fast. 2.393-400)

When they came to this place (for they were not able to proceed further), one and the

other of them said: ‘but how similar they are! But how handsome both are! Nevertheless

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this one has more vigor of the two. If lineage is proved by features, unless some image

deceives me, I suspect some god is in you both – but if some god were the author of your

origin, in so perilous a time he would bring help!’

This passage suggests that one of the twins (presumably Romulus) is stronger than the other

(plus tamen ex illis iste vigoris habet, 2.396). And yet it is not spelled out to which twin the

servants are referring. To quote Robinson, the fact that we have just read of Remus’ victory in

the episode with the cattle robbers makes this phrase “teasingly vague,” although it “is almost

certainly Romulus.”172 Further, they repeat Remus’ complaint in the Lemuria episode in Book 4,

namely, the fact that both twins, given their divine lineage, ought to be saved from an

ignominious end (2.399-400). Later, at line 403, the servants call them nata simul, moritura

simul, simul ite (“born at the same time, about to die at the same time, go at the same time”); the

emphasis on the twins’ “simultaneity has a certain poignancy,” as Robinson puts it,173 but more is

at play than just the emotional poignancy brought about by the audience’s knowledge of how

ironically disparate the twins’ destiny will be; we might read, too, another reminder of the fact

that the twins should have had a similar fate.

The second passage that seems to contradict my interpretation is Mars’ speech before the

deification of Romulus in Book 2:

“Iuppiter,” inquit “habet Romana potentia vires:

sanguinis officio non eget illa mei.

redde patri natum. quamvis intercidit alter,

pro se proque Remo qui mihi restat erit.

‘unus erit, quem tu tolles in caerula caeli’

tu mihi dixisti: sint rata dicta Iovis.”

(Fast. 2.483-488)

172 Robinson 2011: 270.

173 Robinson 2011: 271.

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“Jupiter,” he said, “the Roman power has strength: it does not need the service of my

blood. Return the son to the father. Although one has died, the one who remains for me

will serve on his own and Remus’ behalf. ‘There will be one, whom you will raise into

the blue of heaven’ you said to me: let the word of Jove be kept.”

This passage states that Jupiter had promised Romulus’ deification. Yet a glimpse at the

intertexts will show that, even in this passage, Romulus’ superiority is not to be taken for

granted.

The passage draws on two important intertexts: Ennius’ Annales and Ovid’s own

Metamorphoses. In Ennius’ version the following lines, presumably spoken by Jupiter,174

occur:

“Vnus erit, quem tu tolles in caerula caeli/

Templa...”

“There will be one, whom you will raise to the blue regions of heaven.”

(Ann. 54 Skutsch)

This quotation appears in the Fasti passage, where it is generally taken to have been a promise

that Romulus would be deified.175 It appears in similar circustances in the Metamorphoses, as

well, where, as in the Fasti, Mars reminds Jupiter of the promise he made:

Romule, iura dabas, posita cum casside Mauors

talibus adfatur diuumque hominumque parentem:

'tempus adest, genitor, quoniam fundamine magno

res Romana ualet nec praeside pendet ab uno,

praemia iam promissa mihi dignoque nepoti 810

174 Skutsch 1985: 202-205 places this fragment within the council of the gods, though he does not suggest that it

is Jupiter who speaks these lines. Ovid’s (double) quotation of it and identification of Jupiter as the original speaker

make Jupiter’s involvement a distinct possibility.

175 Although again the only evidence we have that Jupiter is speaking about Romulus is Ovid’s quotation of the

Ennius.

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soluere et ablatum terris inponere caelo.

tu mihi concilio quondam praesente deorum

(nam memoro memorique animo pia uerba notavi)

"unus erit, quem tu tolles in caerula caeli";

dixisti: rata sit uerborum summa tuorum!' 815

(Met. 14.806-815)

Romulus, you were giving judgments, when with his helmet put aside Mars spoke to the

father of gods and men with such words: “the time is here, father, since the Roman state

stands strong, on a great foundation, nor does it depend on a single guardian to fulfill the

rewards (they were promised to me and to your worthy grandson) and to place him,

carried away from the earth, in heaven. You once at a council of the gods said to me (for

I recall it and I marked the pious words in an unforgetting mind), “There will be one,

whom you will raise into the blue spaces of heaven”: let your words be fulfilled!”

In this passage, as in the Fasti’s version of the same passage (Fast. 2.483-88), Ennius’ words are

quoted verbatim. The Mars of the Metamorphoses and the Fasti “remembers” Jupiter saying

these words because they were said in poetry that occurred before Ovid’s.176 This quotation, as

well as the character’s commentary on the quotation, is a hallmark of Ovid’s cleverly allusive

style.177 But the way in which the Ennian quotation is reproduced so exactly in both passages

makes the disparity between the two Ovidian passages that much more striking. In the

Metamorphoses passage, the reason that Mars brings up Jupiter’s promise is Romulus’

impressive achievement (Met. 14.808-811). By drawing a connection between the Roman state

176 Ovid quotes a previous poet’s words as though they actually belonged to that character on another occasion,

as well. In Book 3 of Ovid’s Fasti Ariadne, despairing because Bacchus seems to be in love with another woman,

laments:“En iterum, fluctus, similis audite querellas!/En iterum lacrimas accipe, harena, meas!/Dicebam, memini,

‘Periure et perfide, Theseu!’;/ille abiit, eadem crimina Bacchus habet.” (“Behold again, waves, hear similar

complaints! Behold again accept my tears, sand! I used to say, I remember, ‘Perjurer and faithless one, Theseus!’;

That one went away, Bacchus has the same crimes.”(Fast. 3.471-474) Ariadne “remembers” having called Theseus

“Periure et perfide” at a certain point in the past. This makes sense not only with regards to the mythology (Theseus

betrayed Ariadne before Bacchus did) but with regards to Ovid’s poetic predecessors, for before Ovid’s version of

the Ariadne story, there was Catullus’:“sicine me patriis auectam, perfide, ab aris,/perfide, deserto liquisti in litore,

Theseu?/sicine discedens neglecto numine diuum/immemor a! deuota domum periuria portas?” “Thus do you leave

me, having been carried away from my paternal altars, on a deserted shore, wicked one, wicked one, Theseus?

Leaving thus, unmindful of the neglected power of the gods, ah, do you bear your cursed perjuries home? (Catullus

64.132-135). Ovid’s use of Periure is reminiscent of Catullus’ periuria in line 135, while perfide and Theseu are

vocatives that seem to have been drawn directly from Catullus’ poetry.

177 Conte 1986: 57-61.

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and Romulus’ apotheosis, Mars implies that it is Romulus’ successful term as king that has

warranted the fulfillment of Jupiter’s promise. More importantly, he indicates that the rewards

were promised to a singular grandson; the fact that there is only one grandson in line 773, at the

description of Amulius’ death, means that it must be this particular grandson, i.e. Romulus, to

whom the rewards for great achievement were promised. In the Fasti, however, it is a different

story. Before reminding Jupiter that he promised one (unus) of Mars’ sons would be deified,

Mars makes two points: first, that Rome has grown so great that she no longer needs help from a

son of Mars; second, and more importantly, that Remus is dead:

“Iuppiter,” inquit, “habet Romana potentia vires:

sanguinis officio non eget illa mei.

redde patri natum. quamvis intercidit alter,

pro se proque Remo qui mihi restat erit...”

(Fast. 2.483-486)

“Jupiter,” he said, “the Roman power has strength: it does not need the service of my

blood. Return the son to the father. Although one has died, the one who remains for me

will serve on his own and Remus’ behalf...”

It is surprising that Remus should be brought up at all if it was always Romulus who was meant

to be deified, but this passage suggests that in Jupiter’s original promise (“there will be one

whom you will raise into the blue regions of heaven”), the “one” (unus) could have been either

Remus or Romulus. By saying (essentially) “Remus is dead, but Romulus will do,” the poet

throws into question the interpretation of Ennius’ line as a clear statement of Romulus’ divine

destiny. Further, by stating that Romulus’ deification will somehow make up for Remus’ loss

(pro se proque Remo...erit, 2.486), the poet once again brings that loss to the fore. In short, this

Fasti passage does more to establish the equality of the twins than to reinforce the rhetoric that

made Romulus superior, and it suggests that, if things had gone differently, Remus could just as

easily have been “the one.”

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The third passage that seems to suggest Romulus’ natural superiority occurs in Book 3,

after the sleeping Ilia has been raped by Mars. This passage depicts Ilia’s dream, in which one of

her twins (undoubtedly Romulus, as hindsight allows us to infer) is naturally destined not only to

be greater than the other but to rule the world:

languida consurgit, nec scit cur languida surgat,

et peragit talis arbore nixa sonos:

‘utile sit faustumque, precor, quod imagine somni

Vidimus: an somno clarius illud erat?

ignibus Iliacis aderam, cum lapsa capillis

decidit ante sacros lanea vitta focos.

inde duae pariter, visu mirabile, palmae

surgunt: ex illis altera maior erat,

et gravibus ramis totum protexerat orbem

contigeratque sua sidera summa coma.’

(Fast. 3.25-34)

Languid she rises, nor does she know why she rises languid, and, leaning on a tree, she

speaks such words: ‘may what we saw in the image of sleep be useful and fortunate, I

pray. Or was it too lucid to be sleep? I was present at the fires of Ilium, when the

woolen fillet, having slipped from my hair, fell before the sacred hearth. Thence two

palm trees – miraculous to see! – rose equally: of these one was greater, and it covered

over the whole world with its heavy branches and touched the highest stars with its

foliage.’

Ilia dreams that she gives birth to two palm trees, of which “one was greater” (altera maior erat,

3.32); we are undoubtedly meant to interpret this “greater” offshoot as Romulus. But

comparison with this passage’s intertexts reveals that an interpretation that accepts a

straightforward reading of Romulus’ dominance may oversimplify things.

While Romulus’ apotheosis in Fasti Book 2 contains a direct quotation from Ennius’

work, Ilia’s dream in Fasti Book 3 has a more complex intertextual relationship with Ennius’

depiction of Ilia’s dream; once again, Ovid’s version of things brings Remus into the equation

and denies the unilaterally Romulus-focused storyline, as a comparison with Ennius’ version

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reveals. In Ennius, Ilia’s dream of her rape is nightmarish and haunting; the only comfort to be

given is the promise that “fortune will be restored from the river” (Ann. 45):

Talia commemorat lacrimans, exterrita somno: 35

'Eurudica prognata, pater quam noster amauit,

Vires uitaque corpus meum nunc deserit omne.

Nam me uisus homo pulcer per amoena salicta

Et ripas raptare locosque novos. ita sola

Postilla, germana soror, errare uidebar 40

Tardaque uestigare et quaerere te neque posse

Corde capessere: semita nulla pedem stabilibat.

Exim compellare pater me uoce uidetur

His uerbis: "o gnata, tibi sunt ante ferendae

Aerumnae, post ex fluuio fortuna resistet." 45

Haec ecfatus pater, germana, repente recessit

Nec sese dedit in conspectum corde cupitus,

Quamquam multa manus ad caeli caerula templa

Tendebam lacrumans et blanda uoce uocabam.

Vix aegro cum corde meo me somnus reliquit.' 50

(Ann. 34-50 Skutsch)

She related such things, crying, frightened out of sleep: “Born of Eurydice, whom our

father loved, now strength and life desert my whole body. For a handsome man seemed

to hurry me through pleasant thickets and shores and new places: thus alone a little

afterwards, dear sister, I seemed to wander and, slow, to track and seek you, nor was I

able to capture you in my heart: no path stabilized my foot. Then father seemed to

address me out loud with these words: ‘Oh daughter, hardships are to be borne by you

first, afterwards fortune will be restored from the river.’ Having spoken these things our

father, sister, suddenly went away nor did he give himself to my sight, though desired in

my heart, although I repeatedly stretched my hands to the blue regions of the sky,

weeping, and I kept calling him with a caressing voice. Sleep scarcely left me with my

heart sick.”

Krevans investigates the traditions from which Ennius draws, showing exactly how the passage

navigates and manipulates its precedents: “The first section...follows the conventions of virginal

pre-nuptial dreams...The second section...creates the nightmare atmosphere familiar from the use

of dreams in tragedy...Finally, the prophecy spoken by her father resembles the messages given

in Homeric dreams...The multifaceted dream appropriately represents Ilia’s dual role as both

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tragic heroine and mother of Romulus: she herself will suffer...but her child will be the founder

of a great race, a great city.”178 As for Ovid’s retelling of this dream, Krevans notes that the

version given in the Fasti is essentially different given its focus on the symbolic and prophetic

twin palm trees, a feature that classifies it as “a classic pregnancy-dream...in particular the vision

of the plant spreading over terrain appears frequently to announce the birth of kings.”179 But

more significantly, in Ovid’s version of Ilia’s dream, there are two palm trees:

inde duae pariter, visu mirabile, palmae

surgunt: ex illis altera maior erat,

et gravibus ramis totum protexerat orbem

contigeratque sua sidera summa coma.’

(Fast. 3.31-34)

‘Thence two palm trees – miraculous to see! – rose equally: of these one was greater, and

it covered over the whole world with its heavy branches and touched the highest stars

with its foliage.’

Though one of the palm trees - presumably the one that symbolizes Romulus – is called maior

than the other, and is destined to cover totum orbem with its foliage, the two palm trees initially

grow “equally” (pariter). In fact, pariter can denote “equally” in the sense of “in the same

way.180 This leads us to ask the question: was Romulus always greater, or were he and his

brother naturally equal and only distinguished from each other by the outcome of events?

In this way, a comparison of Ovid’s literary models to his own work reveals that even a

passage that seems to support the rhetoric that singled out Romulus as one of the “greatest men”

(summi viri) - the son of Mars and the founder of Rome – can be read rather as a questioning of

178 Krevans 1993: 265.

179 Krevans 1993: 266.

180 OLD s.v.3

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this rhetoric, as here, too, Remus intrudes and threatens Romulus’ natural superiority. When we

consider the fact that the image of the wolf and infant twins was the only representation of

Remus, besides (possibly) the image on the Temple of Quirinus, Ovid’s depiction of Remus

suggests that, if the infant twins were as equal as they appeared in their youthful representation,

the adult Remus’ absence is troubling.

Remus and the Roman People: Creating New Aetiological Links

If Remus represents the “other,” the alternative to Romulus/Augustus, whom precisely

does he represent? This is a difficult question to answer, as no doubt there are many

possibilities. In her chapter on the Fabii and Claudii in the Fasti, for example, Jacqueline Fabre-

Serris makes a connection between Remus and the Fabii, with whom he is explicitly linked in the

Lupercalia episode.181 She shows that both parties are categorized as being too hasty – the Fabii

in their famous battle against the Etruscans and Remus in the Lupercalia episode, the augury, and

(most famously) in his leap over the walls. Indeed, Ovid suggests that Remus is characterized by

haste in Book 5 (a fact that Fabre-Serris does not mention):

Romulus ut tumulo fraternas condidit umbras,

et male veloci iusta soluta Remo...

(Fast. 5.451-452)

When Romulus buried his brother’s shade in a grave mound, and the rites were

performed for overly-hasty Remus...

What is especially noteworthy about the description of Remus as male veloci – and the depiction

of him as “hasty,” if we agree with Fabre-Serris’ interpretation – is the fact that this is exactly the

181 Fabre-Serris 2013: 96.

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opposite of one of the popular etymological explanations given for his name, specifically, that it

comes from the verb remorari, “to delay.”182 The Fabii are also depicted as too hasty in the Fasti

(their haste leads to their deaths in 2.193-242) despite the fact that their most famous family

member (Fabius Cunctator) was known for his skill in delaying the enemy. Thus the connection

between Remus and the Fabii is strengthened not only by their connection in the Lupercalia

episode and their similar flaws throughout but also by the way in which Ovid reverses their

typical representation and plays with the meaning of their names. Could the prominence of

Remus throughout the Fasti be an implication of support for the Fabian clan (a very worthy

Roman family, from whom Ovid’s own patron is descended)183 in the face of the Claudian clan’s

resurgence via Tiberius and his family? This is certainly one possibility; however, the

aetiological connection Ovid fashions between Remus and the religious festivals in which he is

placed, particularly the Parilia, also implies a connection between Remus and the ritual behavior

of the Roman plebs and, by extension, the plebs themselves.184

Ovid’s lengthy explication of April 21st (Fast. 4.721-862) contains both a description of

the Parilia and of Remus’ death. The Parilia festival involved purification of the flocks under the

auspices of the mysterious deity Pales. That this festival was an important event in the Roman

calendar is suggested by its frequent and often lengthy treatment in various Roman authors.185

182 Wiseman 1995: 6-8 connects this etymology also with the term used for unlucky birds in augury, remores

aves, birds that urge a delay in action. He further uses this to bolster his argument that Remus is symbolic of the

Roman plebs (versus the patricians), as their share in the power was “long-delayed” (1995: 110). 183 Schmitzer 2007.

184 This is the thesis of Wiseman 1995. Though I do not necessarily agree with his arguments about when the

figure of Remus appeared, nor do I think that Ovid would necessarily have understood Remus as symbolic of the

plebs in a scholarly way, I think that Ovid sees Remus’ fate reflected in the fate of his fellow citizens, as I hope to

show.

185 Propertius (4.1.73-75 and 4.4.19-20), Tibullus 2.1, Ovid, et al. According to Weinstock 1971: 185, the

Parilia may indeed have had additional significance to the family of Caesars, as the Parilia festival of 45 was

dedicated to Julius Caesar… “The games followed, which had hitherto had been no part of the Parilia. People wore

wreaths in Caesar’s honour, and these were retained at the Parilia after the Caesarian part of the festival lapsed.”

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Unfortunately, its importance does not guarantee coherence in its explanation. In the Fasti, Ovid

describes the pastoral rites of the Parilia, offers seven unsatisfactory explanations for these rites,

and then transitions into a discussion of the seemingly unconnected death of Remus at the

founding of Rome. An exploration of these two passages, however, suggests that Remus’ death

may be understood as an additional aetiology for the pastoral purification ritual.

Ovid’s description of the ritual establishes the behaviors for which he seeks an aetiology:

after strengthening his position as vates, mouthpiece of the gods, by asking alma Pales (Fasti

4.722) for her favor in his discussion of the Parilia, Ovid claims that he himself (or at least his

narrator) has taken part in the rituals by making offerings, leaping over fire, and sprinkling water

from laurel leaves (4.725-8).186 He then alludes to the ritual of the October horse (4.733-4) and

describes the behavior and speech required of the pastor (4.735-82), which ends when he washes

his hands in dew (4.778), drinks milk and must from a wooden bowl (4.779-80), and – as Ovid

claims he himself has done – leaps over burning heaps of straw (4.781-2). While leaping over

fire is an element shared by Ovid’s description of his own actions and his description of the

shepherd’s actions, the rites as a whole are significantly different. This reflects “the religious

theories and categories of Varro, who insisted on the distinction between the public and private

festivals – a distinction which may largely overlap with that between the urban and the rural.”187

186 Beard 1987: 2 asks, “How can we possibly imagine…skeptical poets like Ovid leaping through bonfires in a

ritual concerned with the purification of flocks and herds?” Though I do not find this particular image problematic,

perhaps it would be good for us to remember that the poet Ovid is not necessarily the same person as the narrator, as

Newlands 2006 warns. Here, “Ovid” is shorthand for “the narrator of the Fasti.”

187 Beard 1998: 175-176. Scullard 1981: 105 addresses this aspect of the festival as well: “The Parilia was both

private and public (tam privata quam publica: Varro), and rural and urban. Ovid’s longer description clearly applies

to the early country cult, but what happened in Rome? We know nothing about the official cult except that it was

conducted by the Rex Sacrorum, and it was here presumably that the main offering of the sacred relics was made.

However, private celebrations apparently went on throughout the city; bean-straw for the fires could have been

distributed freely, but not everyone is likely to have received even a tiny portion of the relics, though Ovid appears

to have handled some.”

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Regardless of the differences, both rituals require the participant to leap over fire. Water seems

to be important, as well, though its significance is played out in two different behaviors (the

sprinkling of water from laurel leaves and the washing of the hands in dew, respectively). Thus

when Ovid transitions from description of the rites to explanation of their origin at 4.783

(expositus mos est; moris mihi restat origo: “the custom has been described; the origin of the

custom remains for me to tell”), he focuses on the elements of leaping, fire, and water.

His seven explanations range from the scientific and philosophical to the mythological

and, finally, to the historical. As none of these explanations proves to be satisfactory, however,

certain aspects of the account of Remus’ death that follows (an event that was previously

connected only temporally to the Parilia) can be read as supplying the missing “true” aetiology.

The first three of Ovid’s explicit aetiologies (4.785-92) refer to the purifying properties of fire

and water and their use in other rituals. Frazer suggests that this is “the true purpose” of the use

of these elements in the Parilia.188 Significantly, while Ovid posits that fire and water are

important because they are the cause of life and therefore are important in rituals of marriage and

exile (4.791-792 – a use documented by Frazer),189 he omits another important ritual use of fire

and water, namely, their role in funeral rites. According to Festus, “when persons who have

attended a funeral return they used to step over fire and to be sprinkled with water, which kind of

purification was called suffitio.”190 Ovid’s omission of suffitio is strange, since suffitio would

provide an action parallel to the action in the Parilia rituals, namely, the physical crossing over of

188 Frazer 1928: 369. In these lines there is also an implication that the sheep are led through the fire, as well, an

aspect that was not mentioned in Ovid’s previous descriptions of the rite (at lines 727 and 781-782). It is missing

from Propertius’ and Tibullus’ description of the rite, as well (Scullard 1981: 105).

189 “Roman exiles were forbidden the use of fire and water; Roman brides were presented with fire and water at

the threshold of their new home” (Frazer 1928: 370).

190 Frazer’s translation of Festus (Frazer 1928: 379).

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fire. This strange omission opens the door for a reading of the death of Remus as an aetiology

for the Parilia, as I will show below.

Ovid does not stop with these three explanations, though any of them might be

considered – on the abstract level, at least – an acceptable explanation for the rites of the Parilia.

The first is that the fire has to do with Phaethon and the water with Deucalion and the flood (4.

793-794), a mythological exemplum that is scarcely believable, even to himself (vix equidem

credo, 4.793). The second, unacceptable because it ignores the element of water, is that the rites

stem from a time when shepherds made fire by striking stones together (Pars, quoque, cum saxis

pastores saxa feribant,/scintillam subito prosiluisse ferunt;/prima quidem periit, stipulis excepta

secunda est:/hoc argumentum flamma Parilis habet? 4.795-798). The accumulation of these

unsatisfactory aetiologies leaves the reader eager for a satisfactory one.

The last two explanations are rooted firmly in the “historical” past. The first attributes

the rite to the way that the fires of Troy withdrew from Aeneas because of his piety (an magis

hunc morem pietas Aeneia fecit,/innocuum victo cui dedit ignis iter? 4.799-800). This example,

too, is not really parallel to the ritual (for why would leaping over the fire be an aspect if this

were the explanation?) and, moreover, lacks the element of water. The final explanation is the

not convincing either, according to Ovid, who prefaces the question of this explanation’s

legitimacy with the particle num, which expects a negative answer (num tamen est vero propius -

“can it be nearer to the truth?...” 4.800).191 This aetiology states that when Rome was founded,

the men were ordered to transfer the Lares to new houses, and having set fire to their old homes,

both the men and their flocks leapt through the flames (cum condita Roma est,/transferri iussos

in nova tecta Lares,/mutantesque domum tectis agrestibus ignem/ et cessaturae subposuisse

191 OLD on num.

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casae,/perflammas saluisse pecus, saluisse colonos? 4.801-806). Although water is absent from

this aetiology, it not only seeks to explain the reason for leaping over the fire (possibly with

one’s flocks) but to connect the pastoral purification aspect of the Parilia with the other aspect,

which Ovid will soon expound on: the Parilia as Rome’s birthday.

There is certainly a precedent for giving a plurality of explanations for a ritual, namely

Callimachus’ Aitia.192 And such plurality would not be troubling to Roman society, whose

religion was based more on ritual action than dogma, allowing for a certain degree of mutability

in assigning meaning to those actions.193 This seems to be especially true for the Parilia, which,

since it was also Rome’s birthday, held special civic significance.194 All of these explanations,

then, may be reflective of the actual range of opinions. By giving philosophical, mythological,

and historical explanations, Ovid provides confirmation of his position as an educated speaker

who is also the mouthpiece of the gods.195

Yet the surfeit of explanations still seems problematic. As Mary Beard puts it, “Ovid’s

list [of explanations]…seems a bit absurd. He gives too many explanations at once; no one

192 Knox 2002: 159-162.

193 “The meaning of ritual actions could vary depending on their context; and ‘second-order’ meanings could be

generated, to such an extent that they obliterated the primary, literal meaning…”(Scheid 1992: 32). “North is

wholly correct to insist that from the very beginning of organized festival activity in Rome multiple interpretations

must have been possible of any given rite. Such manifold explanations are in part a result of the historical

adaptability of cultic forms…” (Feeney 1998: 128).

194 “The wide variety of different explanations offered by our ancient sources is an indication of the strongly

evocative power of the festival itself: it had no single meaning; it constantly generated new and changing stories and

interpretations…the festivals’ capacity to be constantly reinterpreted and re-understood.” (Beard 1987: 6-7).

195 “The poetic persona used as a basis for variation in Fasti is that of one or other form of the didactic vates,

for the ‘poetic sense here derives much of its character from the earlier ‘prophetic’ sense. The sources of his

inspiration vary from the gods and goddesses of the Greco-Roman pantheon to local Roman divinities and nymphs,

the Muses and ancestral tradition…Despite the occasional reference to the idea of ‘pure’ research by Ovid, the

impression is misleading; these references merely support the appeal to antiquity as an authenticating source. The

impression usually conveyed here through the vatic persona is not that of the student who carefully sifts his sources

and balances his judgement but rather of a suppliant priest who prays for a divinely sent revelation…and faithfully

reproduces it.”(Harries 1998:168).

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individual at Rome could ever have thought all that at the same time, in the way we have to read

it.”196 Furthermore, what custom is it that the poet is trying to explain? The presence of fire?

Leaping over fire? The use of both water and fire? Each explanation seems to give a different

perspective on what the defining aspects of the custom are. If we take all of these perspectives

together, we end up with fire, water, and leaping as the relevant aspects, and none of the

explanations addresses all of these aspects together, not even the seventh one, with which Ovid

claims to be relatively satisfied. The poet himself states the problem best: turba dubium facit (4.

784).197 It seems strange that Ovid would provide so many contradictory explanations for the

custom that they all cast doubt on the veracity of the others, unless he is doing so in order to

prime his reader to receive his subtle reading of Remus’ death as an aetiology for the ritual

behaviors of the Parilia.

This subtle reading begins with the poet’s somewhat awkward transition between the two

discussions (ipse locum casus vati facit - “that event [Rome’s birthday] itself makes an

opportunity for the poet,” 4.807).198 The fact that it is (ostensibly) a different subject is solidified

by an invocation of Quirinus, the deified Romulus, instead of Pales (ades factis, magne Quirine,

tuis; 4.808). What follows is his unusual version of the Romulus and Remus story: first the

auguries (4.811-818), then the building of the walls (which occur during the festival of Pales –

sacra Palis suberant; 4.820), which initially sets up a temporal, rather than causal, relationship

between the Parilia festival and the founding of Rome. The temporal connection between the

196 Beard 1987:10.

197 Feeney 1998:130 argues that this hodgepodge of explanations produces a “tension” that is “very productive.

This is the birthday of Rome, after all, the explanation which Ovid places in a culminating position, and elaborates

with the story of the augury contest of the twins and the death of Remus . The foundation of the city is now viewed

in a variety of interpretative contexts, for the day is multiply over-determined as a moment of origins of all kinds.”

198 It is to be noted that, while the Teubner text (Alton 2005) renders casus in line 807, Frazer’s 1959 text reads

causas, which would make the aetiological connection between the two episodes all the more convincing.

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two events echoes Ovid’s representation of the same events in the Metamorphoses, where “the

walls of the city are founded during the Parilian rites” (festisque Palilibus urbis/moenia

conduntur; Met. 14.774-775). This temporal connection is accepted by scholars like Beard,

Herbert-Brown, and Fantham. The passage closes with Remus’ death and funeral.

As we have noted, Ovid’s explanations for the rites of the Parilia address three particular

aspects: fire, water, and the action of leaping. None of the seven explanations that Ovid offered

accounted for all of these actions, but the Romulus and Remus story does. Remus leaps over the

walls of Rome, an action that leads to his death and funeral, where the funeral pyre and the

abundant tears of the mourners account for the elements of fire and water. Remus did not leap

over fire, but he did leap over the wall, so that the physical action itself provides some degree of

parallelism. In fact, the same verb, transilire, is used to describe Remus’ action at Fast. 4.843

and Ovid’s at Fast. 4.727. This leaping action is combined with the elements of fire and water,

which are emphasized in the lengthy description of the funeral, particularly in the last two lines:

tum iuvenem nondum facti flevere Quirites;/ultima plorato subdita flamma rogo est (“then those

not-yet-made Romans wept for the youth; the final fire was placed underneath the wailed-over

pyre;” Fast. 4.855-6). It is notable, too, that in those previous explanations, Ovid omitted the

funeral rite of suffitio, which also involved leaping over fire, from his discussion of rituals in

which fire and water are important (4.791-792). The absence of the suffitio rite where it may

have been expected makes it easier for the reader to make a connection between Remus’ funeral

and the Parilian ritual of leaping over fire and sprinkling water.

Thus Ovid subtly lets the Romulus and Remus story, which was ostensibly a change of

subject from his aetiological discussion of the Parilia, account for a ritual in which many citizens

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of now-imperial Rome would have taken part (at least according to Ovid’s poet-narrator).199

Roman citizens, by leaping at this annual celebration, re-enacted Remus’ fatal leap over Rome’s

burgeoning walls, making this leap an action that was ingrained in the citizens’ very bodies. The

“accidental” way in which the death of Remus becomes an aetiology for the Parilia may reflect

the possibility that it is Ovid who is inventing this link.200 It would thus be misleading for him to

pretend that this is an aetiology offered by the gods or by antiquarians.201 The subtle way in

which Ovid connects the two events allows a close reader to make the connection herself,

without the appearance of any undue persuasion on the part of the author.

If the rural and urban rituals are different, then Ovid might intend for the Romulus and

Remus story to be more closely connected to the urban ritual, since it does not account for

leading the flocks over the fire (which may be implied in the description of the rural ritual) and

uses the same terminology (transilire 4.843, flamma 4.856) as Ovid’s description of his own

(urban) actions (4.727-8). The most obvious reason to understand the Romulus and Remus story

as an aetiology for the urban Parilia rites is, of course, the fact that the events in question - the

leaping, the fire, and the water-as-tears – occur during the process of the city’s foundation, with

the rural Parilia rites as a backdrop and foil. It should not surprise us that Ovid is trying to give

the rural rites of the Parilia more meaning for city dwellers. Finding meaning for rituals in a

purely agricultural and primitive context makes it “hard to understand the practice of those

199 As Barchiesi 1997: 72 claims, but does not explain.

200 For example, the Parilia remains a strictly rural festival, and has no relation to Remus’ death, in Propertius

4.1 and Tibullus 2.1, two other elegiac works where the Parilia plays a central role.

201 Fantham 1998: 31: “For a long time scholars drew their picture of traditional Roman religion primarily from

the Fasti. More recently we have come to think that Ovid, though not ignorant, was both selective and inventive in

his presentation of deities and their cults.”

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rituals in the complex urban society of the historical period.”202 The Roman calendar was

notoriously easy to adapt so that it might accept new interpretations of various practices, so much

so that it is unlikely that Ovid’s manipulation of the rite and its story would have been

considered disingenuous.203

But what is the significance of this “accidental” aetiology? What does it mean that Ovid

chooses to explain – however subtly – the purification rites of the Parilia via the infamous death

that marked the beginning of Rome? Are Roman citizens truly celebrating the death of

Romulus’ brother when they leap over the fire in the Parilia festival?

As we have seen, Romulus is a highly ambiguous figure for many authors of the

Augustan period, none more so than Ovid, whose negative comparison of Romulus and

Augustus at Fast. 2.127-144) is the first explicit comparison between Romulus and Augustus in

which Romulus overtly appears “inglorious.”204 And while Ovid’s version of Remus’ death

seems to cast a more positive light on Romulus’ role in the event, it is not only based on an

account that is explicitly discounted by Dionysius of Halicarnassus but also focalized through

Romulus – that ambiguous figure – himself.

202 Beard 1987: 2.

203 Beard 1987: 11. See also Scheid 1992: 34-5 - “There was nothing scandalous about giving a particular

interpretation to a ritual so long as the ritual itself was not distorted or omitted. Whether it was celebrated fervently

or with indifference, whether it was the sole focus of the action of a cult or was turned into just one element in a

programme of political propaganda, made no difference to the ritual’s intrinsic value. The only obligation that

governed any individual ritual was that it had to be celebrated on a particular date and in the traditional order.”

Moreover, there is something in the rural rites that allows for such individual interpretation. As Miller 1991: 109

puts it: “[rustic ceremonies] are popular rituals, what Festus calls popularia sacra, feasts performed by the common

people themselves, not just by high priests or other magistrates on behalf of the entire community, i.e. the state.

This popular participation in ritual – not simply as onlookers, as in the typical Roman festival – makes the rustic

rites occasions where a human meaning for religion, its meaning for individuals, is at its most evident. It is this

phenomenon to which Ovid responds. The manner of his response is an index of his own humanitas.”

204 Herbert-Brown 1994: 51. Herbert-Brown 2009: 130 suggests that this view of Romulus can be explained by

the Fasti’s engagement with the vulgar entertainment of Ovid’s day, rather than any particular political view.

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Thus Ovid accomplishes several things with the account of Remus’ death. First, he

reveals the problematic aspects of public depictions of Rome’s founders. The aetiological

connection between the death of Remus and the Parilia rituals implies that civil strife underlies

even a peaceful rite in which all Roman citizens – whether urban or rural – took part, just as civil

strife underlies the peaceful and pastoral depictions of Romulus and Remus as infant twins

suckling the wolf. The prevalence of the adult Remus throughout the Fasti already underscores

his absence in public media, but the positive version of his death in particular, being somewhat

unconvincing in the way that it merely reminds the reader of the more common and more

negative version, may be read as a suggestion that attempts to whitewash this highly

controversial event are similarly unconvincing. By connecting the purification rites of the Parilia

(meant to ensure the health and fertility of the flocks) to the story of Remus’ murder, Ovid

connects the past of civil strife – the blood of brothers – to the present state of Rome’s

abundance and the ritual behavior of every Roman citizen. Moreover, by making the behavior of

Roman citizens a direct result of Remus’ actions, Ovid connects the rural and urban everyman to

the brother who could have been leader of Rome, had circumstances been different.

The Lemuria episode in Book 5 forges a link between Remus and the Roman people as

well. Here, Ovid invents a spurious etymology in order to place Remus in an unprecedented

context:

Romulus obsequitur, lucemque Remuria dicit

illam, qua positis iusta feruntur avis.

aspera mutata est in lenem tempore longo

littera, quae toto nomine prima fuit;

mox etiam lemures animas dixere silentum:

hic sensus verbi, vis ea vocis erat.

(Fast. 5.479-484)

Romulus obeys, and he calls that day the “Remuria,” on which rites are paid to our dead

grandfathers. The harsh letter which was first in the whole name has changed into a soft

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one over the long period of time; soon they also called the souls of the silent ones

lemures: this is the meaning of the word, this was the force of the expression.

Commentators on this passage seem to agree that the link between Remus and the Lemuria is an

invention on Ovid’s part;205 Forsythe, meanwhile, suggests that it might be based on earlier

antiquarian literature, but still implies that it is by no means believable.206 There are no other

sources that mention such a link (until Porphyry, who may well have been drawing on Ovid),

including the Roman calendar itself.207 A more likely derivation of lemures, and therefore

Lemuria, is from the Greek lamuros, meaning “gluttonous” or “greedy” and related to Lamia, the

name of a monster found in Aristophanes.208 Ovid may be alluding to his invention when he

invokes Mercury as his informant for the passage about the Remuria:

dicta sit unde dies, quae nominis extet origo,

me fugit: ex aliquo est invenienda deo.

Pliade nate, mone, virga venerande potenti:

saepe tibi est Stygii regia visa Iovis.

(Fast. 5.445-8)

Why the day is called the “Lemuria,” what the origin of the name is, escapes me: it must

be discovered from some god. Born of a Pleiad, inform me, god worshipped for the

powerful wand: often the kingdom of Stygian Jove has been seen by you.

Ostensibly, Mercury is called upon to inform the narrator about the Lemuria because he is the

one who guides the souls of the dead into the Underworld, at least according to his identification

205 Bömer 1958: 320, for example, calls it “nicht haltbar;” Scullard 1981: 118 “unacceptable.”

206 Forsythe 2012: 46: “Ovid’s derivation of lemures (=ghosts) from Remus’ name is clearly fanciful and is

doubtless taken from earlier antiquarian literature, but the connection between the Lemuria and those who have died

a violent death may likely represent the actual thinking of the early Romans, since it is a widespread popular belief

that hostile ghosts are the spirits of those who have died before their time.” According to Maltby 1991 on lemures,

Porphyry derives the word from Remus while commenting on Horace Epistle 2.2.209: “putant lemures esse dictos

quasi Remulos a Remo, cuius occisi umbras frater Romulus cum placare vellet, Lemuria instituit, id est Parentalia.”

207 “In spite of Ovid’s aetiology (which is probably his invention), there was no festival officially designed to

cleanse Romans of the primal guilt of Remus’ murder...”(Dufallo 2007: 6)

208 OLD on lemures; Bömer 1958: 315.

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with the Greek god Hermes. Ovid’s comment about Mercury seeing the kingdom of Stygian

Jove certainly draws from this tradition, as does the god’s appearance in Book 2. But Mercury’s

appearance in Book 2, as well as the other elements that accompany his identification with

Hermes, is problematic.

In Book 2, Mercury is entrusted with the task of escorting the nymph Lara – recently

robbed of her power of speech by Jupiter – to the Underworld. On the way there, he rapes her,

and she, being mute, is unable to protest (Fast. 2.612-614). This behavior belies his role as the

guider of souls to the Underworld, as presumably the guide/conductor would be expected to get

them to their destination safely. Moreover, he is known not just as conductor of souls but as

patron of thieves (inventor curvae, furibus apte, fidis, Fast. 5.104). The less savory

characteristics of the god are confirmed in Fasti 5.663 ff., in which Mercury is honored by

cheating merchants who wish to be forgiven for their lifestyles (5.681-682). How does the

evocation of a figure known as a rapist, thief, and liar affect our reading of Remus’ connection to

the Lemuria? At the very least, the story of Remus’ ghostly appearance and his exculpation of

his brother Romulus seem less trustworthy given which god informs them, just as the pro-

Romulean story of Remus’ death at Fast. 4.835-848 is thrown into question by its informant

(Quirinus), who is surely self-interested.

Through Mercury, Ovid self-consciously draws attention to the fact that he is creating an

unprecedented link between Remus and the Lemuria. So why create this link in the first place?

First, it allows him to bring Remus to the fore again, pointing out and questioning the absence of

Remus, and, through him, the civil wars, in the “official” iconography. Second, as I explored

above, it allows him to express Remus’ equality to his brother Romulus. Finally, it allows him to

create yet another link between Remus and the common Roman citizen, for the Lemuria were

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“more private and less spectacular” than public aristocratic funerals, aimed “at the cleansing of

ancestral ghosts from the home.”209 These were the funeral rites (like the Parentalia and the

Feralia) that every person would perform in his own home, the Everyman’s version of those

lavish funerals through which the aristocracy promoted itself.210 Thus Ovid once again makes

Remus responsible for – the meaning behind – the ritual behavior of the Roman plebs, reiterating

the fact that if Romulus/Augustus “won out” in the end, it was everyone else who lost.

Indeed, in Tristia 4.3 Ovid even draws a subtle connection between himself and Remus:

aspicite illa, precor, quae non bene moenia quondam

dicitur Iliades transiluisse Remus,

inque meam nitidos dominam convertite vultus,

sitque memor nostri necne, referte mihi. 10

(Tr. 4.3.7-10)

Look at those walls, I pray, which once Remus son of Ilia is said to have leapt over

unfortunately, and turn your shining faces toward my mistress, and tell me, whether she

remembers me or not.

In this poem, addressed to the bear constellations, the exiled Ovid remembers Rome using the

image of Remus’ famous leap over the walls, the transgression that led to his untimely death. He

thus draws a parallel between Remus’ mistake and his own (whatever it was),211 the transgression

that led to the exile from his homeland, which he frequently refers to as being equal to (or worse

209 Duffalo 2007: 6, who, however, goes on to note that “as much as they were family matters, these, like other

major rites, were traditionally seen as crucial to the well-being of the state.”

210 Bernstein mentions these aristocratic funerals in his discussion of the literary importance of ghosts

(Bernstein 2011: 258). See also Flower 1996 and Kierdorf 1980.

211 We do not know what Ovid did, but he claims that two things destroyed him, carmen et error (Tr. 2.207).

We can only assume that the error was something political or, as Heather White 2005 suggests, a violation of

religious mysteries, but we know from his lengthy defense in Tristia 2 (and from references throughout his exile

poetry) that the carmen was the Ars Amatoria, the poem that was most at odds with the Augustan moral legislation.

See Thibault 1964 for a summary of the scholarship on Ovid’s exile up until 1964. Another possibility is mooted by

Goold 1983, namely, that Ovid was complicit in Julia’s adultery.

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than) death.212 Remus’ story, then, is the story of Ovid himself, who was punished by the ruler of

Rome for what he seems to think is a relatively slight transgression. In the Tristia, Remus

becomes symbolic of Ovid’s suppressed voice. I believe that we can take this interpretation one

step further and say that, given his connection to the ritual behavior of all Roman citizens,

Remus comes to represent the suppressed voice of other Romans, too, the Romans who lost their

representative power and thereby their ability to stand their ground and raise their voice against

the (both literal and figurative) monumental power of Augustus.

212 See, for example, Tr. 1.5, where he compares his relationship with his friends to that between Theseus and

Pirithous, et al.

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CHAPTER III

HERSILIA AND THE SABINE WOMEN: ELEGIAC HISTORY AND FEMALE

APOTHEOSIS

Though Hersilia, Romulus’ wife, appears in literary sources such as Livy, Dionysius of

Halicarnassus, Plutarch, and (of course) Ovid himself, she is a relatively minor figure in the

iconographic and social complex of Rome, and her literary appearances are limited in scope and

detail. She differs from Remus and Carmentis, however, in at least one significant regard:

unlike Remus and Carmentis, who are prominent in the Fasti but absent from the

Metamorphoses, Hersilia is represented nearly equally in both works; indeed, she is perhaps even

more prominent in the Metamorphoses, for in that work she is the only Roman, human woman to

be granted the honor of apotheosis. For this reason, my study of Hersilia will include a

discussion of the Metamorphoses in addition to a discussion of the Fasti. Since in other sources

she is a character best known for her inclusion among the Sabine women, an investigation of

Ovid’s treatment of that (in)famous rape will set the stage for our discussion of his treatment of

Hersilia. Through the story of the rape of the Sabines and through the promotion of Hersilia, the

poet is able to question and comment on the ideologies of morality, imperial divinity, and

masculine-centered history. Hersilia in particular breaks free from the (intentionally) flimsy

attempts at masculine circumscription and, through Ovid’s invention, is granted an

unprecedented apotheosis that seems to be an implicit criticism of the masculine and nepotistic

nature of Roman imperial deification.

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Reading Ovid’s Rapes: Passion and the Feminine against the Masculine View of History

1. The Historical View

Ovid’s representations of the rape of the Sabines in Ars Amatoria (1.101-34) and Fasti

(3.187-202) differ as much from each other as they do from historical accounts of the same

event. That Ovid’s take on the (in)famous event should be so different from those of Livy,

Dionysius, et al. is not surprising; after all, Ovid was an elegiac poet rather than a historian. For

Ovid in both the Ars and the Fasti, the Sabine women provided an opportunity to explore a

highly political and ideologically-charged episode from an elegiac perspective, to push beyond

the limits of traditionally accepted interpretations. That Ovid’s two accounts of the event should

differ from each other is likewise to be expected, given the different aims and subject matter of

the two works as a whole. Nevertheless, a look at the general ways in which Ovid manipulates

this historical event will allow us to get a clearer grasp on the significance of his Hersilia.

In order to understand how Ovid manipulates the rape of the Sabines, we must first

establish the more “traditional” ways in which it was represented in historiography and

iconography. The rape had long been a subject of interest to the Romans. Our earliest literary

example of this interest is Ennius’ Sabinae, a fabula praetexta about the infamous event.213

Multiple versions of the rape exist in both literary and material formats from the 2nd century BCE

onward, perhaps, as Dench suggests, because “after the conquest and extraordinary incorporation

of the Sabine people into the Roman state, the mythological rape…[provided] the means to begin

to think about a newly, but hesitantly, plural Roman society.”214 In the years of the late Republic

213 Farney 2007: 84-85; Dench 2005: 15.

214 Dench 2005: 15.

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and early empire, when Rome’s foundation was being exploited to new purposes by the

Caesars,215 the story of the rape of the Sabines could hardly have faded into the background; thus

versions of the story appear in Cicero, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Livy, Vergil, Propertius, and

Ovid, as well as on the monumental frieze of the Basilica Aemilia. Like all mythological stories,

the rape of the Sabines could – and did – present a plurality of meanings. But on the whole, it is

presented in historiographic and iconographic sources as an aetiology for Roman marriage and

the blending of the Roman and Sabine peoples, as well as “a paradigm of the character of Roman

conquest and expansion.”216

In material iconography, the rape was an image meant to evoke Rome’s foundation and

the beginnings of her people, frequently for genealogical purposes. A denarius minted by L.

Titurius Sabinus in 89/88 BCE depicts the rape of the Sabine women on the reverse [Image 5];217

this may have been intended as a visual pun on his name, similar to Pomponius Musa’s use of

reverses depicting the Greek Muses.218 Though modern perspectives on the rape often assume

the event reflected negatively on Rome’s overly-aggressive character,219 Sabinus presumably did

not intend for his coin to convey such a loaded interpretation; rather, by using these images,

Sabinus was connecting himself to the ancient origins of Rome. Indeed, Farney explains that

215 See Zanker 1988.

216 Dench 2005: 23.

217 RRC 334/1a. Another of his coins of the same year (RRC 334/2b) depicted Tarpeia – another famous woman

associated with the Sabine narrative - on the reverse.

218 RRC 410. Musa released a series of ten coins beginning in 66 BCE, each one depicting one of the muses or

Hercules Musagetes.

219 Such as Eckhel’s comment on the image on the imperial coins of Nero, Agrippina senior, and Constantius II,

where he claims that “upon [this subject] it would have been more honourable to have remained silent.” Stevenson

1969: 703.

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these “Sabine moneyers advertised their ethnic identity by means of types that demonstrated

their awareness of the early connection between Romans and Sabines.”220

The friezes of the Basilica Aemilia, where both the rape of the Sabines [Image 6] and the

death of Tarpeia are represented, suggest that our modern biases were not necessarily shared by

Roman artists. These friezes have been dated by different scholars to various dates between

179/174 and 14 BCE, the date of the Basilica’s first construction and the date of its restoration by

Augustus, respectively.221 Whatever the date of the original construction of the friezes, the fact

that they were used (or re-used) in the Augustan version of the monument suggests that, at the

very least, the images on the friezes must have been in line with Augustus’ ideological program.

Interpretations of the significance of the friezes, however, vary. Some scholars look at the two

“Sabine” friezes in conjunction with the other friezes on the monument as a narrative about

Romulus’ life and the beginnings of Rome;222 these scholars, who date the friezes to before

Augustus’ restoration of the monument in 14 BCE, attribute the depiction of the rape of the

Sabines to an interest in representing the narrative of Romulus’ life rather than a commentary on

moral or political issues. Others connect the friezes to various festivals from the Roman

220 Farney 2007: 82-84. He cites both the numismatic depiction of Rome’s early Sabine kings and events such

as the rape of the Sabines and the betrayal of Tarpeia.

221 According to Albertson 1990: 802, Hafner dates the frieze to the basilica’s original construction. Kränzle

1994: 97, meanwhile, dates the friezes to 78, the year in which M. Aemilius Lepidus was consul; this view is shared

by Torelli (according to Albertson 1990:802). Another popular view asserts that the friezes were originally

constructed for a republican basilica in 55-34 and then re-used in the Basilica Aemilia during the Augustan

restoration (Arya 2000: 303). Albertson 1990: 802 attributes the frieze to the restorations undertaken by Paullus in

the late republic, focused in the period between Caesar’s assassination in 43 BCE and the completion of the

restoration in 34. Kleiner 1992: 89 notes that the republican dating is the most popular among scholars, but notes

that “the Augustan date is also attractive and would allow an association of the frieze with Augustus himself. The

restoration of 14 B.C., after a fire in the forum, was undertaken by a member of the Aemilius family but was funded

by the emperor. A date of 14 B.C. for the frieze would make it roughly contemporary with the most renowned of

Augustus’ monuments – the Ara Pacis Augustae – and there is evidence that the two commissions had similar

goals.” Von Dippe 2007: 237 and others (to judge by Kleiner’s comments) give a more wide-ranging date from 34

to 14 BCE.

222 Arya 2000:312-315, Kränzle 1994:97.

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calendar,223 making the friezes’ purpose parallel to that of Ovid’s Fasti. Kleiner, meanwhile,

interprets the friezes of the Sabine women and Tarpeia (which she dates to 14 BCE), divorced

from their contexts, as cautionary tales in line with the Augustan moral legislation of 18-17 BCE:

“those who paid heed might escape the harsh punishment legislated by Augustus for what he

defined as unethical female conduct.”224 Yet this is surely too simplistic an interpretation, as it

not only ignores the context of the friezes but also markedly departs from the usual interpretation

of the rape of the Sabines in literary sources. While Tarpeia was always – or, at least, almost

always225 - a representation of how women should not behave (and her punishment showed what

awaited those who behaved similarly), the rape of the Sabine women was never interpreted as a

punishment for the women’s misbehavior. If anything, the women were seen as innocent victims

and, later, ideal wives and mothers, though their capture by the Romans was partially motivated

by the Sabine men’s rebuff of the Romans. Miles suggests that the rape of the Sabines would

have particular potency in an age affected by Augustus’ moral legislation:

“The particular character of Augustus’ legislation concerning marriage makes patently

clear that what was perceived as at stake in the issues surrounding Roman marriage was

not simply the welfare of the individual, or of the family, or even of the clan, but nothing

less than the socio-political organization of the Roman state. The narratives of the theft

of the Sabine women...acknowledge the political relevance of their subject in...general

terms: The theft/marriage is explicitly presented in each narrative as essential to the

welfare of the state, to the perpetuation of Rome’s greatness. These narratives also make

it clear that Roman marriage and therefore the socio-political edifice that it supports

depend in turn on roles for men and women that were constructed both by social practice

and by legend.”226

223 Albertson 1990, supported by Arya 2000: 315.

224 Kleiner 2005: 221.

225 Miles 1992:183-185 discusses the various versions of the Tarpeia story and their interpretation.

226 Miles 1992: 187.

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What Miles suggests here is that the rape of the Sabines was a story of the “proper” behavior of

men and women – aggressive and submissive, respectively – that contributed to the success of

Roman marriage with regards to its purpose of procreation.

A brief look at the rape of the Sabines in prose authors, whose tendency is to comment on

moral and political issues explicitly,227 suggests that Miles’ interpretation is correct. In the prose

(and largely historical) authors who wrote most extensively about the rape of the Sabines,

namely Cicero, Dionysius, Livy, and Plutarch (whom I have included here despite the fact that

he post-dates Ovid), the tendencies are to represent the rape as an aetiology for marriage, as a

political maneuver, and as a masculine-centered action.

The major prose sources for the story of the rape and subsequent hostilities and

reconciliation are Cicero’s De Republica 2.12-13, Dionysius of Halicarnassus 2.30 and 2.45-46,

Livy 1.9-13, and Plutarch’s biography of Romulus 14.1-19.7 (all but Cicero’s version, given

below, are provided in full in Appendix II). While the narratives differ with regard to certain

specific details (e.g. Livy’s and Plutarch’s versions explain the traditional Roman wedding cry,

“for Thalassius,” while Cicero’s and Dionysius’ do not), the main events of the story are

consistent. Cicero’s version, the shortest, serves as a summary of the episode and an

introduction to the themes emphasized in other historiographers:

Atque haec quidem perceleriter confecit; nam et urbem constituit, quam e suo nomine

Romam iussit nominari, et ad firmandam nouam civitatem nouum quoddam et subagreste

consilium, sed ad muniendas opes regni ac populi sui magni hominis et iam tum longe

prouidentis secutus est, cum Sabinas honesto ortas loco uirgines, quae Romam ludorum

gratia uenissent, quos tum primum anniuersarios in circo facere instituisset Consualibus,

rapi iussit easque in familiarum amplissimarum matrimoniis collocauit. qua ex causa cum

bellum Romanis Sabini intulissent proeliique certamen uarium atque anceps fuisset, cum

227 To judge by the historians’ explicitly moralistic introductions, that is. For example, Livy’s introduction tells

us that his purpose is to trace Rome’s history from her glorious origins and character to her modern state of decay

(Praef. 10-12), while Dionysius seeks to rescue Rome’s early history from the negative viewpoints of outsiders

(1.4).

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T. Tatio rege Sabinorum foedus icit, matronis ipsis quae raptae erant orantibus; quo

foedere et Sabinos in ciuitatem asciuit sacris communicatis, et regnum suum cum illorum

rege sociauit.

(Cicero Rep. 2.12-13)

And these things he completed very quickly indeed, and he established the city, which,

from his own name Romulus, he decided to call Rome. And in order to strengthen his

new city, he conceived a certain novel and barbarous plan, yet characteristic of a great

man even already at that time thinking ahead towards strengthening his power and his

people. He ordered that the young Sabine females sprung from noble families, who came

to Rome for the games, which Romulus had established on the Consualia, in the circus

during the first anniversary, be carried off and he arranged them in marriages to the best

families in Rome. When for this reason the Sabines waged war upon the Romans, and the

issue of the battle was doubtful and undecided, Romulus made an alliance with Tatius,

king of the Sabines, at the intercession of the matrons who had been taken. By this

compact, he both admitted the Sabines into the citizen body with their religious

ceremonies having been shared, and divided his power with their king.228

This version, more concise than other prose accounts of the events, is also even less interested in

the women’s roles in the event. For example, their reactions to the rape are omitted entirely,

while their intervention in the battle, a significant event which led to a lasting alliance between

the two peoples, is relegated to an ablative absolute: matronis ipsis, quae raptae erant, orantibus.

However, Cicero’s version not only gives a good summary of the basic events of the story (the

Romans need wives, so they invite the Sabines to a festival and steal their women; war ensues

until the women’s intervention leads to peace and alliance) but also reflects the tendencies of the

other historical versions of the story.

The first common tendency of the historical accounts is their focus on the rape as an

aetiology for Roman marriage rites. Miles details this aspect of the historical narratives in his

228 Translation mine.

108

article “The First Roman Marriage and the Theft of the Sabine Women.”229 Though Cicero’s

version is too short to be explicit on this account, his mention of the rites that occurred as a result

of the intermarriage and alliance (sacris communicatis) are suggestive of the aetiological bias

that is explicit in the other authors. Plutarch, for example, attributes three different Roman

marriage rituals to the rape: the cry “Talassio,” the groom’s carrying of the bride over the

threshold, and the bride’s parting of her hair (Rom. 15). Livy, too, relates the origin of the phrase

“Talassio” (1.9.12-13), and he also reports the words that the men used to appease the frightened

women, which include reassurances about shared property and offspring, references to the

benefits of marital concord. While Dionysius does not relate the aetiology of “Talassio,” he does

say that they were married “according to the customs of each woman's country, basing the

marriages on a communion of fire and water, in the same manner as marriages are performed

even down to our times” (οἷς αὐτὰς συνήρμοττε κατὰ τοὺς πατρίους ἑκάστης ἐθισμούς, ἐπὶ

κοινωνίᾳ πυρὸς καὶ ὕδατος ἐγγυῶν τοὺς γάμους, ὡς καὶ μέχρι τῶν καθ᾽ ἡμᾶς ἐπιτελοῦνται

χρόνων. D.H. 2.30.6). In this way, each historian relates the rape and marriage of the Sabine

women to the Roman marriage rites of his own day, not only legitimizing the ancient story of

violence and deceit but also depicting it as an essential part of Rome’s foundation.

The second tendency of the historians, closely connected to the first, is to justify the rape

as an action taken for legitimate political reasons rather than an action solely motivated by lust or

anger. While Cicero’s explanation of the Romans’ justification for the rape is vague, almost

frustratingly so (ad muniendas opes), it sounds more like a reference to alliances and resources

than to women. And while Cicero admits that Romulus’ action was uncivilized (subagreste), he

229 Miles 1992.

109

also emphasizes how important Romulus’ action was and how characteristic it was of a “great

man” (magni hominis) securing the future of his people.

The other authors’ more detailed explanations boil down to the following four concepts:

1) the Romans needed a pretext for war with the Sabines (an option given by Plutarch and

Dionysius but not preferred by either), 2) they needed wives for the purpose of reproduction, 3)

they needed wives as a means to alliance with surrounding peoples, and 4) their previous

attempts at diplomatic alliance had failed. The plurality of explanations for the rape might

suggest that there was some discomfort surrounding the act. Despite the rape’s similarity to the

traditional Roman marriage rite (for example, the actual physical conveyance of the wife into her

husband’s home),230 the violent nature of the Sabine women’s abduction may have needed some

mitigation. Note, for example, how Dionysius explains Romulus’ motivations:

[1] αἱ δὲ ἄλλαι πράξεις αἵ τε κατὰ τοὺς πολέμους ὑπὸ τοῦ ἀνδρὸς γενόμεναι καὶ αἱ κατὰ

τὴν πόλιν, ὧν ἄν τις καὶ λόγον ποιήσαιτ᾽ ἐν ἱστορίας γραφῇ, τοιαῦταί τινες παραδίδονται.

[2] πολλῶν περιοικούντων τὴν Ῥώμην ἐθνῶν μεγάλων τε καὶ τὰ πολέμια ἀλκίμων, ὧν

οὐδὲν ἦν τοῖς Ῥωμαίοις φίλιον, οἰκειώσασθαι ταῦτα βουληθεὶς ἐπιγαμίαις, ὅσπερ ἐδόκει

τοῖς παλαιοῖς τρόπος εἶναι βεβαιότατος τῶν συναπτόντων φιλίας, ἐνθυμούμενος δὲ ὅτι

βουλόμεναι μὲν αἱ πόλεις οὐκ ἂν συνέλθοιεν αὐτοῖς ἄρτι τε συνοικιζομένοις καὶ οὔτε

χρήμασι δυνατοῖς οὔτε λαμπρὸν ἔργον ἐπιδεδειγμένοις οὐδέν, βιασθεῖσαι δὲ εἴξουσιν εἰ

μηδεμία γένοιτο περὶ τὴν ἀνάγκην ὕβρις, γνώμην ἔσχεν, ᾗ καὶ Νεμέτωρ ὁ πάππος αὐτοῦ

προσέθετο, δι’ ἁρπαγῆς παρθένων ἀθρόας γενομένης ποιήσασθαι τὰς ἐπιγαμίας. [3] γνοὺς

δὲ ταῦτα θεῷ μὲν εὐχὰς τίθεται πρῶτον ἀπορρήτων βουλευμάτων ἡγεμόνι, ἐὰν ἡ πεῖρα

αὐτῷ χωρήσῃ κατὰ νοῦν θυσίας καὶ ἑορτὰς ἄξειν καθ᾽ ἕκαστον ἐνιαυτόν: ἔπειτα τῷ

συνεδρίῳ τῆς γερουσίας ἀνενέγκας τὸν λόγον, ἐπειδὴ κἀκείνοις τὸ βούλευμα ἤρεσκεν...

(D.H. 2.30.1-3)

The other deeds reported of this man, both in his wars and at home, which may be

thought deserving of mention in a history are as follows. Inasmuch as many nations that

were both numerous and brave in war dwelt round about Rome and none of them was

friendly to the Romans, he desired to conciliate them by intermarriages, which, in the

opinion of the ancients, was the surest method of cementing friendships; but considering

that the cities in question would not of their own accord unite with the Romans, who

230 See Miles 1992: 166-168.

110

were just getting settled together in one city, and who neither were powerful by reason of

their wealth nor had performed any brilliant exploit, but that they would yield to force if

no insolence accompanied such compulsion, he determined, with the approval of

Numitor, his grandfather, to bring about the desired intermarriages by a wholesale seizure

of virgins. After he had taken this resolution, he first made a vow to the god who presides

over secret counsels to celebrate sacrifices and festivals every year if his enterprise

should succeed. Then, having laid his plan before the senate and gaining their

approval…231

Dionysius takes great pains to explain why the actions the Romans took were justified: Romulus

tried to go through the proper channels (i.e. diplomacy) first, but he was rudely rebuffed. The

characterization of the Sabines and the other neighboring peoples as contemptuous of the

Romans lessens the degree to which the audience might feel sympathetic toward the Sabines.

Likewise, Romulus is depicted as behaving properly and piously, getting both divine and

political approval for his undertaking after his initial diplomatic attempts are unsuccessful.

Livy, too, ensures that the Sabines’ fate seems at least somewhat warranted, although his

Romulus is depicted in a less flattering light:

[1] Iam res Romana adeo erat ualida ut cuilibet finitimarum ciuitatium bello par esset; sed

penuria mulierum hominis aetatem duratura magnitudo erat, quippe quibus nec domi spes

prolis nec cum finitimis conubia essent. [2] Tum ex consilio patrum Romulus legatos

circa uicinas gentes misit qui societatem conubiumque nouo populo peterent... [5]

Nusquam benigne legatio audita est; adeo simul spernebant, simul tantam in medio

crescentem molem sibi ac posteris suis metuebant. A plerisque rogitantibus dimissi,

ecquod feminis quoque asylum aperuissent; id enim demum conpar conubium fore. [6]

Aegre id Romana pubes passa et haud dubie ad uim spectare res coepit. Cui tempus

locumque aptum ut daret Romulus aegritudinem animi dissimulans ludos ex industria

parat Neptuno equestri sollemnes; Consualia uocat.

(Livy 1.9.1-6)

The Roman State had now become so strong that it was a match for any of its neighbors

in war, but its greatness threatened to last for only one generation, since through the

absence of women there was no hope of offspring, and there was no right of

231 Translation from Cary 1937.

111

intermarriage with their neighbors. [2] Acting on the advice of the senate, Romulus sent

envoys to the surrounding nations to ask for alliance and the right of intermarriage on

behalf of his new community... [5] Nowhere did the envoys meet with a favorable

reception. While their proposals were spurned, there was at the same time a general

feeling of alarm at the power so rapidly growing among them. Usually they were

dismissed with the question, ‘whether they had opened an asylum for women, for nothing

short of that would secure for them inter-marriage on equal terms.’ [6] The Roman youth

could not endure this, and matters began to look like an appeal to force. To secure a

favorable place and time for such an attempt, Romulus, disguising his resentment, made

elaborate preparations for the celebration of games in honor of ‘Equestrian Neptune,’

which he called ‘the Consualia.’232

As in Dionysius, the Romans’ genuine need for wives and alliances is highlighted, as well as

their initial attempts at gaining these wives through diplomatic channels. Also in Dionysius, the

Romans’ rejection seems unfair. Romulus, however, is not quite the upstanding character that he

appeared to be in Dionysius: here he behaves not after seeking the approval of the gods and the

senate, but aegritudinem animi dissimulans, “disguising his resentment,” as though it is not

merely the legitimate need for wives and alliances but also a sort of personal vendetta that drives

him to set up the rape. Nonetheless, both the legitimate needs of the young and vibrant Roman

men and their unfair treatment at the hands of their neighbors mitigate the less savory aspects of

the story. After all, the rape of the Sabines could easily be interpreted not just as an aetiology for

Roman wedding traditions but also as an exemplum of the deeply-entrenched Roman penchant

for violent appropriation of others’ property,233 but the emphasis in the historical narratives on

the outcome – the alliance between Romans and Sabines and the continuation of the Roman state

- also makes it difficult to read the story as a negative example of Roman behavior.

232 Translation from Roberts 1912.

233 “...the story of the Sabine women is in part about one of the most important ways in which the Romans had,

in historical reality, extended their community and their imperium.” (Miles 1992:169)

112

The third tendency that the historical narratives share is their focus on the justifications,

actions, and benefits (mostly political) of the men who were involved. As Miles puts it, “[these

narratives] are characterized by an essential disinterest in the process by which the Sabine

women are initiated into their roles as Roman matronae and by a tacit assumption that there is

nothing problematic about their initiation.”234 While Livy’s account, according to Brown and

Miles, is somewhat more nuanced in its focus on the mutuality of the ideal of concordia in

marital relations, giving women at least some degree of contribution toward “male goals and

ideas,”235 they are nonetheless still subordinate to these goals and ideas.

An example of this is found in Livy’s narrative:

Tum Sabinae mulieres, quarum ex iniuria bellum ortum erat, crinibus passis scissaque

ueste, uicto malis muliebri pauore, ausae se inter tela uolantia inferre, ex transuerso

impetu facto dirimere infestas acies, dirimere iras, hinc patres, hinc uiros orantes, ne se

sanguine nefando soceri generique respergerent, ne parricidio macularent partus suos,

nepotum illi, hi liberum progeniem. 'Si adfinitatis inter uos, si conubii piget, in nos uertite

iras; nos causa belli, nos uolnerum ac caedium uiris ac parentibus sumus; melius

peribimus quam sine alteris uestrum uiduae aut orbae uiuemus.' Mouet res cum

multitudinem tum duces; silentium et repentina fit quies; inde ad foedus faciendum duces

prodeunt. Nec pacem modo sed ciuitatem unam ex duabus faciunt. Regnum consociant:

imperium omne conferunt Romam.

(Livy 1.13.1-4)

Then it was that the Sabine women, whose wrongs had led to the war, throwing off all

womanish fears in their distress, went boldly into the midst of the flying missiles with

dishevelled hair and torn garments. Running across the space between the two armies

they tried to stop any further fighting and calm the excited passions by appealing to their

fathers in the one army and their husbands in the other not to bring upon themselves a

curse by staining their hands with the blood of a father-in-law or a son-in-law, nor upon

their posterity the taint of parricide. ‘If,’ they cried, ‘you are weary of these ties of

kindred, these marriage-bonds, then turn your anger upon us; it is we who are the cause

of the war, the cause of the wounds and deaths of our husbands and fathers. Better for us

to perish rather than live without one or the other of you, as widows or as orphans.’ The

armies and their leaders were alike moved by this appeal. There was a sudden hush and

234 Miles 1992: 173.

235 Miles 1992: 181. For more on Livy’s contribution to a more complex view of the Sabine women, see Brown

1995.

113

silence. Then the generals advanced to arrange the terms of a treaty. They made not only

peace but also one city out of two. The royal power was shared between them, and the

seat of government for both nations was Rome.236

The women’s pleas are highlighted, and thus a more “feminine” perspective seems to be

promoted. But the women begin by emphasizing the horrors of male vs. male violence

(“staining their hands with the blood of a father-in-law or a son-in-law”) and then beg the men to

turn the violence upon them, the women, instead, thereby legitimizing their roles as victims of

masculine supremacy. Further, the episode ends with a reassertion of the masculine-focalized

concerns that had justified the rape in Livy’s narrative: alliance and political stability.

The historical narratives of the rape of the Sabines, then, share three major tendencies:

the definition of the rape as an aetiology for Roman marriage, the justification of the rape in

political/imperial terms, and the focalization of the rape through a masculine perspective.

Even the brief treatment of the rape in Vergil’s Aeneid (8.635-41), although the meaning

of its context on the shield of Aeneas is much debated,237 follows in the historians’ footsteps:

nec procul hinc Romam et raptas sine more Sabinas 635

consessu caueae, magnis circensibus actis,

addiderat, subitoque nouum consurgere bellum

Romulidis Tatioque seni Curibusque seueris.

post idem inter se posito certamine reges

armati Iouis ante aram paterasque tenentes 640

stabant et caesa iungebant foedera porca.

(A. 8.635-641)

Not far from here he had added Rome and the unprecedented capture of the Sabines in

the assembly of the benches when the great games had been completed and the new war

that arose suddenly between the sons of Romulus and old Tatius and the fierce Cures.

Likewise afterwards the kings stood with their mutual conflict set aside, armed and

holding bowls before the altar of Jove, and they made pledges over a slain pig.

236 Translation from Roberts 1912.

237 Hardie 1986: 336-76, for example, situates the image in a long line of pro-Augustan imagery. Boyle 1999,

on the other hand, suggests that some of the shield’s images – this one included – are meant to undermine the

general panegyric quality of the shield.

114

Though scholars have debated the intent of sine more, questioning whether it is simply a

comment on the action’s unprecedented nature or a comment on the action’s (lack of)

morality,238 it is notable that the rape itself constitutes a mere two lines (8.635-6), and the

women’s place in the action is restricted to four words (raptas sine more Sabinas, 8.635); the

emphasis is placed, rather, on the actions of the men: the war that broke out after the rape (8.637-

8) and, perhaps most importantly, on the treaties and peace that followed (8.639-641). Whatever

the import of sine more, its criticism of the event seems minor in the face of the peaceful

outcome, much as Cicero’s subagreste was a criticism easily overcome by the overall benefit to

Rome.

Vergil’s treatment of the Sabines, then, falls very much in line with what we see in the

historians, a fact that should not surprise us given both the immediate context (a shield

representing important moments of Roman history) and extended context (a poem ostensibly

meant to glorify Rome’s past).

2. Elegiac Views

On elegiac treatments of the rape of the Sabines, Hutchinson generalizes: “elegists often

stress, historians often deny, the connection with more ordinary rape.”239 Ovid’s detailed

treatment of the rape in Ars Amatoria not only confirms this generalization but also provides a

view of the event that contradicts the historiographical tendencies discussed above.

238 See Boyle 1999:157-8 for this latter view. Fordyce 1993 on Aen. 8.635 translates sine more as “indecently,

in defiance of convention,” and points out that the same term is used of Amata’s Fury-fueled anger at 7.377.

239 Hutchinson 2006: 129.

115

While the rape of the Sabines appears briefly in the works of Propertius,240 Ars Amatoria

1.101-134 contains the lengthiest and perhaps most controversial elegiac treatment of the event.

While listing the places in the city in which a love affair can be sought, Ovid suggests that the

theater is particularly apt; he situates the legendary story of the rape in the theater (when it had

been traditionally situated at equestrian games in honor of the god Consus) and describes in

detail the ancient Romans’ actions on that occasion:

primus sollicitos fecisti, Romule, ludos,

cum iuuit uiduos rapta Sabina uiros.

tunc neque marmoreo pendebant uela theatro,

nec fuerant liquido pulpita rubra croco;

illic quas tulerant nemorosa Palatia frondes 105

simpliciter positae scena sine arte fuit;

in gradibus sedit populus de caespite factis,

qualibet hirsutas fronde tegente comas.

respiciunt oculisque notant sibi quisque puellam

quam uelit, et tacito pectore multa mouent. 110

dumque, rudem praebente modum tibicine Tusco,

240 Propertius mentions the rape twice (at 2.6.19-22 and 4.6.57-60). In the first passage (2.6.19-22), Propertius

uses the rape of the Sabines as an exemplum of the lengths to which a lover’s passion is willing to go: cur exempla

petam Graium? tu criminis auctor/nutritus duro, Romule, lacte lupae:/tu rapere intactas docuisti impune

Sabinas:/per te nunc Romae quidlibet audet Amor. “Why do I seek examples from the Greeks? You were the

originator of the crime, Romulus, nourished by the harsh milk of the wolf: you taught how to seize the untouched

Sabine women with impunity: through you now Love dares anything at Rome.” Here Propertius ironically points

out that what should have been a crime (criminis line 19) was in fact carried out with impunity (impune 21).

Perhaps he is referring to the way that the rape became such a big part of the historical rhetoric of the Roman

foundation: Romulus’ action (which, we must remember, Cicero called subagreste) is excusable because it was

necessary for Rome’s establishment and expansion. But by redefining the action purely in terms of erotic desire,

Propertius points out the problems inherent in such a view: if someone who was not Romulus had done such a thing,

it would not have been viewed with impunity, and the suggestion that Romulus’ action justifies the action of every

Roman lover is therefore humorous. In the second passage (4.6.57-60), located in the collection of Propertius’

aetiological elegies, Tarpeia – the Roman woman who betrayed Rome for the sake of her passion for the Sabine king

– uses the rape of the Sabines to describe her own desires and, thereby, to once again point out the inherently ironic

nature of the Romans’ actions (4.6.57-60): ‘si minus, at raptae ne sint impune Sabinae:/me rape et alterna lege

repende uices!/commissas acies ego possum soluere: nuptae/uos medium palla foedus inite mea.’ ‘If not, at least let

the Sabine women not have been taken with impunity: take me and pay back in kind with a reciprocal justice!/I am

able to separate the battle lines sent together: wives,/strike a peace treaty on my robe.’ In other words, Tarpeia had

become an exemplum of bad behavior (in all but one account), but Propertius’ poem, by having Tarpeia suggest that

her action reciprocates the rape of the Sabines, points out that the rhetoric of historical justification only works in the

Romans’ favor. Propertius’ brief explorations of the Sabines, then, present an “elegiac” point of view on the

historical event, denying the historical viewpoint that justified these actions in terms of Roman destiny and focusing

instead on the less savory aspects of actions motivated by lust.

116

ludius aequatam ter pede pulsat humum,

in medio plausu (plausus tunc arte carebant)

rex populo praedae signa petenda dedit.

protinus exiliunt animum clamore fatentes, 115

uirginibus cupidas iniciuntque manus.

ut fugiunt aquilas, timidissima turba, columbae,

utque fugit visos agna nouella lupos:

sic illae timuere uiros sine more ruentes;

constitit in nulla qui fuit ante color. 120

nam timor unus erat, facies non una timoris:

pars laniat crines, pars sine mente sedet;

altera maesta silet, frustra uocat altera matrem:

haec queritur, stupet haec; haec manet, illa fugit.

ducuntur raptae, genialis praeda, puellae, 125

et potuit multas ipse decere timor.

si qua repugnarat nimium comitemque negabat,

sublatam cupido uir tulit ipse sinu

atque ita 'quid teneros lacrimis corrumpis ocellos?

quod matri pater est, hoc tibi' dixit 'ero.' 130

Romule, militibus scisti dare commoda solus:

haec mihi si dederis commoda, miles ero.

scilicet ex illo sollemni more theatra

nunc quoque formosis insidiosa manent.

(Ars 1.101-34)

You first made plays fraught with worry, Romulus, when the raped Sabine women

pleased wifeless men. At that time no curtains hung in marble theaters, nor were stages

red with yellow paint. There the leaves which the shady Palatine bore, placed simply

were a stage set without artifice. The people sat on seats made from turf, with whatever

leaves they could find covering their shaggy hair. They watch, and each man marks for

himself the girl that he wants, and many desires move in their silent breast. While, to the

measure of the homely Etruscan flute, the dancer, with triple beat, struck the levelled

earth, amongst the applause (applause that was never artful then) the king gave the

watched-for signal for the plunder. Immediately they leap forth, betraying their intention

with a shout, and they seized the virgins with desirous hands. Just as doves, the most

timid flock, flee eagles, and just as the little lamb flees wolves that have been seen, so the

women feared the men rushing lawlessly, and all of them lost their previous color. For

there was one shared fear, but not one face of fear: some tear their hair, some sit

witlessly, one, sad, is silent; another calls her mother in vain. This one complains, that

one is dumbfounded; this one stays, another flees. The captured girls are led away, spoil

for the marriage bed,241and fear itself is able to make many appear more comely. If any

of them fought back too much or denied her companion, the man himself lifted her and

241 As Hollis 1977:56 suggests, by comparison with lectus genialis, the marriage bed.

117

took her into his lap, and spoke thus: “why do you ruin your tender eyes with tears?

What your father is to your mother, I will be to you.” Romulus, you alone knew how to

give benefits to your soldiers. If you give such benefits to me, I will be your soldier.

Obviously from this custom the theaters on festival days are still treacherous to beautiful

girls.

Ovid’s version of the rape is both haunting and humorous. The women’s fear is palpable,

illustrated by the similes of doves and lambs (1.117-119) and the descriptions of their varied

reactions (1.120-124), but the author’s tongue-in-cheek comment that he would gladly be

Romulus’ soldier if he could get a similar reward (1.132), combined with the “moral” of the

whole passage, namely, that the theater is a great place to “pick up chicks,” twists this potentially

traumatic description into the realm of dark humor,242 which is perpetuated by the ironic

insistence on the Romans’ lack of ars (1.106, 1.113) in a passage from a work dedicated to

teaching “the art of love” to prospective lovers. Roman iconography is cleverly manipulated at

1.117-119, where the descriptions of the men’s eagerness and the women’s various reactions –

running terrified, freezing in fear, etc. – seem to interact with the frieze on the Basilica Aemilia

[Image 6], which Kleiner describes in the following way:

The arms of some of the Sabine women are flung wide apart by the violent gestures of

their captors. The womens’ long hair seems electrically charged, and their draperies

swirl around their heads and bodies. The male protagonists in the rape scene and in the

Punishment of Tarpeia are depicted time and again in active lunging gestures. There are

also many figures in quiet repose that successfully arrest the activity...243

242 One is reminded of Hermes’ and Apollo’s remarks in the story of the adulterous affair between Aphrodite

and Ares in Odyssey Book 8. Poseidon, the sober judge, is trying to rectify this messy and troubling affair, but

Hermes and Apollo merely joke about how willing they would be to suffer degradation and punishment if only they

were able to sleep with Aphrodite, too (Od. 8.334-342).

243 Kleiner 1992: 89.

118

It is as though Ovid gives us a reading of the image on the Basilica Aemilia in his own work,244

though he puts a different spin on it: rather than one example in a long list of Romulus’ deeds in

a monument meant to glorify Rome and Augustus, Ovid’s uses this story to poke fun at the moral

strictures and political issues of his own day. As Boyd puts it, in the Ars “the holy figures of

Roman history and the city’s foundational events are appropriate objects of satire, rather than

respect. Hence the titillating account of the Romulean mass rape (Ars 1.101-30) in a theatre

vainly segregated along Augustan gender lines; hence too its chuckling conclusion, which pokes

fun at Rome’s military ethos as much as at Rome’s founder...”245 To add insult to insult, “at the

time that Ovid wrote this, Augustus was experiencing considerable difficulty in obtaining

recruits for his legions, precisely because of widespread dissatisfaction with military pay;”

Ovid’s quip that Romulus knew how to pay his soldiers (Romule, militibus scisti dare commoda

solus:/haec mihi si dederis commoda, miles ero, Ars 1.131-132) is a pointed barb at the

emperor’s military difficulties.246 Eidinow, too, notes that the eagle and the wolf were both

symbols of Rome, especially in the time during which Ovid was writing the Ars (which Eidinow

suggests is between 2 and 1 BCE), when the return of the eagle standards from Parthia was

uppermost in the Roman consciousness.247 By using a symbol of the Roman military and a

symbol of Rome’s foundation (and therefore Romulus) in these similes describing the violent

beginning of Rome’s families, Ovid connects the violence and chaos (remember, things were

244 Hollis 1977:56: “One may suspect, as often, that Ovid has in mind some pictorial representation. The

Romans have leapt up and are making for the Sabine women, while the latter are caught in a great variety of

attitudes. Ovid achieves clarity and sharpness of visual detail, combined with the utmost economy of words.”

245 Boyle 2003: 22.

246 Boyle 2003: 22.

247 Eidinow 1993: 414-415.

119

done sine arte) to the Augustan ideologies of the day.248 So, too, Ovid’s re-imagining of the rape

as taking place in the theater may be his way of making fun of the “Puritan” view of the theater

that saw it as a Greek importation that led to dissolution – after all, if Romulus was the first to

introduce promiscuity into the theater with the actions of his men, then the promiscuity

associated with the theater is not due to its Greek origins, but in fact to its Roman origins.249

Ovid may additionally be lambasting the idea of segregating the seating arrangements for men

and women in order to preserve morality. If Romulus arranged the most notorious rape in

Roman history in his primitive theater, is it any wonder that the Romans of Ovid’s time would

use the same location – segregated though it was – for their own attempts at seduction?250

Clearly, there is much to be said about Ovid’s clever use of this traditional story for his

own humorous and controversial purposes. Yet my basic point is that Hutchinson’s appraisal of

the rape of the Sabines in elegy vs. historical writings holds true: Ovid’s version of the story has

nothing to do with the establishment of traditional marriage rites and the strengthening of the

Roman state through reproduction and alliance, and it provides little political justification for the

actions of the Romans, unlike the accounts of the historians. In fact, Ovid’s erotic and elegiac

248 As Eidinow 1993:416 strikingly puts it: “Virgil's description of the shield begins with the wolf and primitive,

lawless Rome, and culminates with the glory of the victorious Caesar Augustus as the apogee of Roman history.

Ovid, however, by his use of the image of the wolf, which is Romulus, who is Augustus, and the verbal

reminiscence, assimilates Augustus' glory, and his victories, his nomothetic position, and Augustus himself to this

primitive, lawless Rome, and denies the Augustan-Virgilian vision of the progress of history.” In other words,

Eidinow suggests that while Vergil’s view of Roman history on Aeneas’ shield, with its linear progression, allows

for an upward progression from Rome’s dismal primitive history to the (supposed) moral rectitude of Augustus’

time, Ovid’s condensation of Rome’s primitive history (the rape of the Sabines) and the popular images of

Augustus’ time (the wolf and eagle) suggests that those two moments in time are not so dissimilar. What Eidinow

forgets, however, is that the wolf – an Augustan image, according to him – is also prominent in the depiction of

early Rome on Aeneas’ shield (8.630-634))? Thus Vergil may in fact be playing with Augustan ideology in the

same way that Ovid does! I suggest that it is in how the image of the wolf is used (nurturing vs. savage) that the

difference lies.

249 Wardman 1965: 102.

250 Wardman 1965: 103.

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perspective in the Ars tends to counter these trends in historical writings, making the rape a story

of rape, of the violence that overweening passion can inspire. One example of the innate

difference between Ovid’s version of things and, e.g. Livy’s, lies at Ars 109-110: respiciunt

oculisque notant sibi quisque puellam quam uelit, et tacito pectore multa mouent (“they watch,

and each man marks for himself the girl/ that he wants with his eyes, and many desires move in

their silent breast”). Hollis points out that this is different from the traditional version in which

“it was pure chance which girl each man ended up with” (cf. Livy magna pars forte in quem

quaeque inciderat raptae at 1.9.11 and Dionysius 2.30.4 - αἷς ἂν ἐπιτύχωσιν ἕκαστοι ‘whichever

one they chanced upon’), and attributes this to the fact that Ovid is aligning the story with his

own precepts in the Ars, such as quaerenda est oculis apta puella tuis (“a girl pleasing to your

eyes must be sought,” Ars 1.44).251 In typical Ovidian fashion, the passion and violence is spun

into a complex web of often-humorous commentary on the moral restrictions of his age, rather

than an explanation of the origins of the Roman people and a justification of the violence

involved in those origins.

Ovid’s sine more (1.119) may also be read as a signal of his interaction with this

traditional view. By alluding to the Vergilian phrase at A. 8.635,252 Ovid engages with the rape’s

epic treatment on Aeneas’ shield, a treatment that had situated it within the context of historical

events leading to the glory of Rome.253 In other words, Ovid’s version, which has little to do

with Roman history or politics and much to do with his own elegiac concerns, actively highlights

251 Hollis 1977: 54.

252 Discussed on p.114 above. Though Hollis 1977: 56 does not comment on this potential allusion, he does

note the interaction with epic language at, e.g. 110 (multa movent) and 121 (facies non una timoris, which he sees as

parallel to Aen. 2.369 ‘plurima mortis imago’).

253 Eden 1975: 180-1 suggests, for example, that the shield’s depiction of Octavian leading all the “Italians” (not

just Romans) in the battle of Actium is a sincere endorsement of the way Augustus managed to unify Italy.

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his lack of engagement with such matters by means of references not only to contemporary

historical and political imagery but also to the epic literary tradition.

Though the rape of the Sabine women itself is passed over in the Fasti, Ovid’s treatment

of the women’s intercession on the battlefield takes up the majority of the Matronalia episode in

Book 3. In this episode, Mars explains the motivation behind the rape:

iamque loco maius nomen Romanus habebat,

nec coniunx illi nec socer ullus erat.

spernebant generos inopes vicinia dives,

et male credebar sanguinis auctor ego...

extremis dantur conubia gentibus: at quae

Romano vellet nubere nulla fuit.

indolui patriamque dedi tibi, Romule, mentem:

‘tolle preces,’ dixi ‘quod petis arma dabunt.’

festa parat Conso. Consus tibi cetera dicet

illo facta die, dum sua sacra canes.

intumuere Cures et quos dolor attigit idem:

tum primum generis intulit arma socer.

(Fast. 3.187-202)

“Already the Roman had a name greater than the place, but he had neither wife nor any

father-in-law. Wealthy neighbors scorned poor sons-in-law, and they did not believe that

I was the founder of their line...The rights of intermarriage are given to the farthest

peoples: but/there was no one who was willing to marry a Roman. I was angry and I

endowed you, Romulus, with a thought that was an inheritance from me, your

father:‘stop your prayers,’ I said, ‘what you seek arms will give.’ He prepares a festival

for Consus. Consus will tell the rest to you on that day, when you sing of his rites. The

Cures and all whom the same grief touched were angry: then for the first time did a

father-in-law bear arms against sons-in-law.”

Though the rape itself is not discussed, the justifications for the rape and the reactions to it play a

significant role, and in contrast with the historians, whose versions focus on political expediency

and the ultimate achievement of peace, Ovid’s version focuses on anger. Although the

immediate issue of a lack of wives and alliances is brought up at Fast. 3.188, the next several

lines – all the way to the rape, in fact – detail the deep disgrace that Mars feels over his son’s

rejection by the neighboring peoples. In our historians, that rejection was given as one of the

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reasons for the Romans’ actions, but was usually relegated to a secondary reason behind the need

for progeny and alliances, and Mars’ disgrace played no part. But here the rape is focalized

through Mars, and it is anger, Mars’ hot-headed anger, that spurs on Romulus’ actions. After the

deed is done, it is the anger of the Cures (intumuere, 3.201) that leads to the war, Rome’s second

instance of civil bloodshed, and this time not between brothers, but between sons- and fathers-in-

law (tum primum generis intulit arma soccer, 3.202). Primum marks the passage as an

aetiology, but while the historians had made the rape of the Sabines an aetiology for Roman

marriage and the eventual alliance between Romans and Sabines, for Ovid, the rape of the

Sabines is an aetiology for the civil wars that plagued Rome’s history.

Frazer sees in this line “a covert allusion to the Civil Wars: Pompey’s wife Julia was

Caesar’s daughter,” an interpretation that is followed by others, as well.254 We may be

reminded, indeed, of the overt reference to the wars between Pompey and Julius Caesar in

Vergil’s Aeneid Book 6:

aggeribus socer Alpinis atque arce Monoeci

descendens, gener aduersis instructus Eois.

ne, pueri, ne tanta animis adsuescite bella,

neu patriae ualidas in uiscera uertite uires;

(A. 6.830-833)

“…the father-in-law descending from the Alpine ramparts and the citadel of Monoecus,

the son-in-law supported by Eastern men, opposite. Do not, boys, do not accustom your

minds to such great wars, nor turn your mighty strength against the innards of the

fatherland.”

Here the terms gener and soccer are used to emphasize the awful nature of civil war (which

Anchises begs his progeny to avoid). Ovid’s use of the same terms may allude to this totally

negative view of the civil wars that were so devastating to the Roman state (even though they did

254 Frazer 1959: 134; Ursini 2008: 247.

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culminate in the pax Augusta, which, at the time of Ovid’s writing, was a stable entity). Indeed,

in his discussion of the justifications that occasioned the rape, Ovid uses the same words to

emphasize the Romans’ lack of familial connections: nec coniunx illi nec socer ullus erat./

spernebant generos inopes vicinia dives – “nor did he have a wife or any father-in-law; the

wealthy neighborhood spurned poor sons-in-law”(3.188-189). The repetition of these same

words in the description of the result of the rape, when fathers- and sons-in-law were at each

other’s throats, emphasizes the irony of the outcome of Romulus’ plan for unification.

Furthermore, the omission of the actual rape in Ovid’s passage about the kalends of March

allows the anger that inspired it and the anger that followed it to dominate the passage. The

focalization of the story through Mars supports this focus on arma rather than peace.

Meanwhile, the reader, though promised a fuller account of the rape when the poet

reaches the festival of Consus (in either August or December, according to Frazer),255 is forced

to fill in the missing information about the rape himself. Whether he would do so from the more

“traditional” accounts of Livy and Dionysius and Cicero or from Ovid’s version in the Ars would

undoubtedly vary based on the reader. But it is tempting to think of a reader filling in the blanks

with Ovid’s cheeky, erotic version, especially since the Fasti is a poem that frequently inserts

elements of Ovid’s erotic elegy into an ostensibly more sober, aetiological premise and,

moreover, is closely related to the Ars as a didactic elegiac poem based in Rome. Whatever we

make of this, one thing is clear: this is not the traditional version of the rape of the Sabines, as it

emphasizes the foundation of Roman war – anger – rather than the foundation of Roman

marriage, thus eliminating much of the justification given in the historians for the violent and

deceitful action.

255 Frazer 1959: 134.

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Ovid’s versions of the rape of the Sabines, then, interact with the historical versions of

the same story by eliminating the aetiological connection between the rape and Roman marriage,

by making the “justification” for the rape either lust or anger rather than legitimate imperial

concerns, and by emphasizing (at least in the Ars) the female experience more than the historical

sources do.

Ovid’s Hersilia: Breaking the Masculine Mold

1. Hersilia in the Metamorphoses: A Goddess Among Gods

In both the Metamorphoses (14.829-51) and the Fasti (3.201-32), Ovid gives

unprecedented prominence to one of the characters involved in the rape and the aftermath,

namely, Hersilia (Romulus’ wife), and he manipulates her traditional representation in order to

explore further the issues that had interested him in the narrative of the rape, particularly that of

feminine- vs. masculine-centered history.

In the Metamorphoses, Hersilia is granted apotheosis by Juno and becomes the goddess

Hora (wife of Quirinus):

Flebat ut amissum coniunx, cum regia Iuno

Irin ad Hersilien descendere limite curuo 830

imperat et uacuae sua sic mandata referre:

“O et de Latio, o et de gente Sabina

praecipuum, matrona, decus, dignissima tanti

ante fuisse uiri, coniunx nunc esse Quirini,

siste tuos fletus et, si tibi cura uidendi 835

coniugis est, duce me lucum pete, colle Quirini

qui uiret et templum Romani regis obumbrat.”

paret et in terram pictos delapsa per arcus

Hersilien iussis compellat uocibus Iris.

illa uerecundo uix tollens lumina uultu 840

“o dea (namque mihi nec quae sis dicere promptum est,

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et liquet esse deam), duc, o, duc” inquit “et offer

coniugis ora mihi, quem si modo posse uidere

fata semel dederint, caelum accepisse fatebor.”

nec mora, Romuleos cum uirgine Thaumantea 845

ingreditur colles: ibi sidus ab aethere lapsum

decidit in terras, a cuius lumine flagrans

Hersilie crines cum sidere cessit in auras.

hanc manibus notis Romanae conditor urbis

excipit et priscum pariter cum corpore nomen 850

mutat Horamque uocat, quae nunc dea iuncta Quirino est.

(Met. 14.829-851)

His [Romulus’] wife was weeping for him as lost, when queenly Juno orders Iris to go

down on her curved path to Hersilia and to relay Juno’s commands to her when she was

alone: ‘Oh matron, special glory both of the Latin and of the Sabine races, most worthy to

have been the wife of such a great man, now to be the wife of Quirinus, cease from your

tears and, if you have any desire to see your husband, follow my lead and seek the grove,

on the hill of Quirinus which is green and which shadows the temple of the Roman king.’

She obeys and, gliding down to the earth along her colorful arches, Iris addresses Hersilia

with the requested speech. She, scarcely raising her eyes in her modest face, says, ‘Oh

goddess (for it is not in my power to say who you are, and what is clear that you are a

goddess), lead me, lead me, and bring my husband’s face to me. If only the fates would

grant that I see that face one time, I will say I have received heaven.’ Without delay, with

the Thaumantean maiden she approaches the hill of Romulus; there a star falls from the

sky to the earth, Hersilia, her hair burning from its light, went with the star into the air.

The founder of the Roman city receives her with his illustrious hands and changes her old

name equally with her body and calls her Hora, who now is a goddess joined with

Quirinus.

Hersilia’s apotheosis is narrated directly after the more well-known apotheosis of Romulus-

Quirinus (Met. 14.805-828), which means that, besides being an honor in and of itself, it is also

given pride of place at the culmination of Book 14.256

The privileged placement of Hersilia/Hora’s apotheosis is even more surprising when we

consider the fact that, of all the apotheoses in the last two books of the Metamorphoses –

Romulus, Hersilia, Julius Caesar, (implied) Augustus Caesar, and (implied) Ovid himself –

256 Strangely, Hersilia is not mentioned in Feeney’s 1991 study of apotheoses in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, while

Solodow 1988: 191-192 seeks to relegate her to a “kind of appendix” to Quirinus’ apotheosis, despite the detail and

unique nature of her episode.

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Hersilia is the only woman to be privileged with deification; furthermore, hers is the only

apotheosis, besides Ovid’s own, that appears to be entirely the poet’s invention.257

If Quirinus was understood to be the deified Romulus, should not Quirinus’ wife be

understood to be the deified wife of Romulus, i.e. Hersilia? And yet, as far as we can tell, this

does not seem to be the case, except in Ovid.258 As Bömer explains, while Hora was always

associated with Quirinus, Hersilia may not have been known as Romulus’ wife – at least not with

certainty – until Ovid’s time.259 Older annalists, like Gnaeus Gellius, call her the wife of Hostus

Hostilius and grandmother of the king Tullius Hostilius,260 a possibility that Plutarch, writing

much later, of course, gives in his description.261 Hersilia was certainly named as Romulus’ wife

in Livy’s version of history (duplicique victoria ovantem Romulum Hersilia coniunx precibus

raptarum fatigata orat – “his wife Hersilia, influenced by the prayers of the captured women,

begs Romulus, who was exulting over his double victory...” Livy 1.11.3), but the probability

257 There is of course, another female apotheoses in the Met., namely Ino’s (Met. 4.512-542). But Ino, whose

apotheosis is discussed in a fair amount of detail, is far removed from the last two books of the Met. in which Roman

historical figures are treated. Moreover, Ino already had a history of divinity (Ino was already associated with the

goddess Mater Matuta), whereas Hersilia did not (as I argue). Another likely candidate for apotheosis would be

Egeria, Numa’s wife, but her metamorphosis at Book 15.547-551 is not properly an apotheosis; rather, she becomes

part of the natural world (Segal 2001: 95-96).

258 See Myers 2009: 208, Domenicucci 1991, Granobs 1997: 61-70, Bömer 1986: 244-248.

259 Bömer 1986: 244.

260 Bömer 1986: 244. See also Wiseman 1983: 448. Gnaeus Gellius (13.23.13; fragment 5) has Hersilia begging

Titus Tatius, specifically, for peace, which is possibly an indication that he was her husband (Cornell 2013, vol.3:

366).

261τὴν δ᾽ Ἑρσιλίαν οἱ μὲν Ὁστίλιον γῆμαι λέγουσιν, ἄνδρα Ῥωμαίων ἐπιφανέστατον, οἱ δ᾽ αὐτὸν Ῥωμύλον, καὶ

γενέσθαι καὶ παῖδας αὐτῷ, μίαν μὲν θυγατέρα Πρίμαν, τῇ τάξει τῆς γενέσεως οὕτω προσαγορευθεῖσαν, ἕνα δ᾽ υἱὸν

μόνον, ὃν Ἀόλλιον μὲν ἐκεῖνος ἀπὸ τῆς γενομένης ἀθροίσεως ὑπ᾽ αὐτοῦ τῶν πολιτῶν ὠνόμασεν, οἱ δ᾽ ὕστερον

Ἀβίλλιον. ἀλλὰ ταῦτα μὲν ἱστορῶν Ζηνόδοτος ὁ Τροιζήνιος πολλοὺς ἔχει τοὺς ἀντιλέγοντας. “This Hersilia some

say Hostilius married, a most eminent man among the Romans; others, Romulus himself, and that she bore two

children to him- a daughter, by reason of primogeniture called Prima, and one only son, whom, from the great

concourse of citizens to him at that time, he called Aollius, but after ages Abillius. But Zenodotus the Troezenian, in

giving this account, is contradicted by many” (Plutarch Rom. 14.7).

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remains that this connection was more recent than the connection between Quirinus and Hora.

Wiseman explains that Hora probably began as an attribute of Quirinus before she was

understood as a goddess in her own right.262 Ancient etymologies of her name connected it with

the verbs orare and hortari; thus an identification of her with the woman who was famous for

her role as an urger and a pleader (as we will see in our investigation of the Fasti passage below)

is tempting.263 However, at least in Ovid’s version, Hora is spelled with a short “o,” making a

felt link to orare less present here.264 Moreover, “no parallel tradition” exists that equates

Hersilia with Hora (indeed, Gagé suggests that ancient Romans would have connected Hersilia

more closely with Nerio Martis);265 it is therefore likely that Ovid is the inventor of this link.266

262 Wiseman 1983: 449.

263 Wiseman 1983: 449. Maltby 1991 has no entry for Hersilia, but Hora (the goddess) is listed in Plut.

quaest.Rom.46 p.276a, where her name is connected to ephorôsan.

264 Wiseman 1983: 450.

265 Gagé 1959: 252. Gnaeus Gellius, however, depicts Hersilia praying to Nerio Martis, which means that – for

one ancient historian, at least, this association was not recognized (Gell. 13.23.13, fragment 5 in Cornell 2013, vol.3:

366).

266 Some scholars have tried to use the Ovid passages to suggest that we are meant to understand a link between

Hersilia and Hora in Ennius’ line <teque> Quirine pater veneror Horamque Quirini (1.56 Sk). Granobs (cogently)

argues against this. Given Ovid’s tendency toward ingenuity, we cannot use Ovid’s version of things as evidence

that Ennius’ version was the same. Moreover, similarities in diction between the Ennius fragment and a fragment of

Gnaeus Gellius suggest that, actually, Hersilia could be the speaker of the line quote above, in which case she would

certainly not be referring to herself as? Hora Quirini in the 2nd or 3rd person (Granobs 1997: 62). Granobs also

points out that, if Ovid is inventing the link between Hora and Hersilia, he at least softens Hersilia’s unprecedented

apotheosis by structuring it similarly to a traditional narrative: If Hersilia’s deification as Hora Quirini is a new

concept to Ovid’s audience, the familiar narrative structure that he uses to convey this concept may help to lessen

the shock. Granobs 1997: 66 points out the similarities between Hersilia’s unprecedented apotheosis and the more

familiar Romulus-apotheosis that directly precedes it. Both episodes proceed in the following way: 1) description of

the situation on earth (Romulus, lines 805-806; Hersilia, line 829); 2) scene among the gods, including impulse to

act, speech, and reaction (Romulus, lines 806-817; Hersilia, lines 829-838); 3) descent of a divinity (Romulus, 818-

822; Hersilia, 838-839); 4) events on the ground (Romulus, 823; Hersilia, 840-846); 5) rapture (Romulus, 824-826;

Hersilia, 846-848); and 6) transformation in the sky (Romulus, 728-729; Hersilia, 849-851). The parallel structuring

of the two episodes serves both to connect the experiences of two figures and to “legitimize” Ovid’s deviation from

traditional substance through traditional structure.

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That Hora might not have been the deified Hersilia seems strange at first. Did Romulus

have two wives, one mortal and one immortal? But a comparison with Hercules and Hebe

suggests that this concept is not so troubling, after all.267 For while Hercules had a mortal wife in

Deianeira, he is given a new wife – Hebe, a minooddess who has nonetheless always been a

goddess – when he becomes a god.268

One interesting facet of Hersilia’s apotheosis is the fact that it is, as Domenicucci argues,

“a special case” of catasterism (itself one of the common ways in which Ovid and other writers

promote a character from humanity to immortality).269 While Hersilia does not become a star,

her apotheosis occurs with the help of a star (Met. 14.846-8) Following this star, Hersilia

ascends to heaven, “burning with respect to her hair” (l4.847-8 - flagrans/Hersilie crines…).

Flaming hair is one of the ways in which Vergil marked characters of importance in his Aeneid:

Iulus, the future progenitor of the Julii, appears with flaming hair at A. 2.681-686;270 Lavinia,

Aeneas’ new queen, at A. 7.71-77;271 and Octavian himself on Aeneas’ shield at A. 8.678-681.272

267 Granobs 1997: 67-70.

268 As at Ovid’s Metamorphoses 9.400; the marriage is attested in Greek sources, as well (as in Euripides’

Heraclidae).

269 Domenicucci 1991: 221-223.

270 Namque manus inter maestorumque ora parentum/ecce levis summo de vertice visus Iuli/fundere lumen

apex, tactuque innoxia mollis/lambere flamma comas et circum tempora pasci. “For between the hands and faces of

the sad parents, behold the tender crown of Iulus seemed to pour forth light from its highest point, and a flame

harmless to the touch seemed to lick at his soft hair and graze around his temples.”

271 Praeterea, castis adolet dum altaria taedis/et iuxta genitorem adstat Lavinia virgo,/visa (nefas) longis

comprendere crinibus ignem,/atque omnem ornatum flamma crepitante cremari/regalisque accensa comas, accensa

coronam/insignem gemmis, tum fumida lumine fulvo/involvi ac totis Volcanum spargere tectis. “Meanwhile, while

the altar was fragrant with chaste torches and the virgin Lavinia was standing beside her father, she seemed (the

horror!) to catch fire in her long hair, and, having caught fire, her whole dress and her regal hair seemed to burn with

crackling flame, she seemed to catch fire on the crown of her head, decorated with jewels, then, smoking, she

seemed to be wrapped in yellow light and to scatter fire over the whole house.”

272 This last passage is doubly significant for our understanding of Ovid’s Hersilia, as it contains both burning

hair and a star: hinc Augustus agens Italos in proelia Caesar/cum patribus populoque, penatibus et magnis dis,/stans

celsa in puppi; geminas cui tempora flammas/laeta uomunt patriumque aperitur uertice sidus. “On this side

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With a simple reference to a star and fire, then, Ovid accomplishes a remarkable thing at

Met. 14.846-848: he connects Hersilia not only to the upcoming catasterism of Julius Caesar

(Met. 15.745-851) but also to the legendary figures of the Roman past and present who would

contribute to the overwhelming dominance of the Julian clan (Iulus, Lavinia, and Octavian.

Hersilia thus becomes, in Ovid’s version of things, a figure with nearly the same level of

importance as as the founder of the Julii, the deified adoptive father of Rome’s first emperor, and

the first emperor himself.

Perhaps in order to soften the unprecedented honor of Hersilia’s apotheosis, Ovid

seemingly circumscribes that apotheosis within the realm of masculine control. First, he defines

her entirely in terms of her husband. Hersilia is not mentioned previously in the Met., and when

we first meet her, she is weeping for her husband (flebat ut amissum coniunx, Met.14.829).

When Juno speaks of Hersilia’s merit, it is solely in terms of her relationship to Romulus (Met.

14.832-834), and she entices Hersilia not just with the promise of deification but with the

promise that she will get to see her husband again (Met. 14.835-837). Finally, even though it is

Juno who initiates Hersilia’s apotheosis, and it is Iris who facilitates it, it is Romulus (or rather,

Quirinus) – a male deity – who actually effects Hersilia’s transformation into the goddess Hora:

Hanc manibus notis Romanae conditor urbis

excipit et priscum pariter cum corpore nomen 850

mutat Horamque vocat, quae nunc dea iuncta Quirino est.

(Met. 14.849-851)

Augustus Caesar, driving Italian men into battle, with the senate and the people, with the penates and the great gods,

standing on the high deck. His blessed temples give forth twin flames and his father’s star shines forth at his head.”

(Aeneid 8.678-681)

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The founder of the Roman city receives this woman with his famous hands and changes

the old name at the same time as the body and calls her Hora, who now is a goddess

joined with Quirinus.

Not only is it Romulus/Quirinus who effects the apotheosis, but it is also his name that falls at

the end of the episode and book (dea iuncta Quirino est, Met. 14.851). It may seem, then, that

Ovid’s account of Hersilia’s apotheosis reflects the same masculo-centrism as the narratives of

the rape of the Sabines in the historians. And yet the unprecedented nature of the apotheosis is

not to be ignored, especially in conjunction with its culminating position and the implied

comparison between Hersilia and figures like Julius Caesar. Hersilia’s apotheosis seems to be no

less important than that of Quirinus or the deified Julian figures in Book 15. Furthermore, while

it is Quirinus’ name that occurs at the end of the episode, drawing our attention once again to the

masculine control over female historical representation, he appears in an oblique case (Quirino,

14.851), while Hersilia in her new role as goddess (dea, 14.851) is the true subject.

Hersilia’s portrayal also seems to be generically significant. Though her representation

as a woman lamenting the loss of her lover (flebat 14.829) is not unique in the

Metamorphoses,273 it is also reminiscent of the women of Ovid’s Heroides, who give voice to the

pain they feel over missing husbands or lovers. This is not to say that elegy alone had a corner

on the “mourning woman” market; epic women, too, give voice to such lamentations (Vergil’s

Dido perhaps most famously in Roman literature, though the tradition extends back all the way

to Homer’s Andromache and Penelope). Nor are “epic” and “elegy” necessarily exclusive of

each other, as I have noted throughout this investigation. And yet given Ovid’s history of

representing the voices of women in the elegiac meter in particular, we surely cannot ignore the

273 See, for example, Canens at Met. 14.416-34 and Egeria at Met. 15.485-551.

131

privileging of that feminine voice at the end of this book, even though it is written in epic

hexameters. The insertion of an invented episode involving the favoring of a female’s

perspective in the masculine realm of historical apotheosis goes hand in hand with Ovid’s

previous privileging of the elegiac woman’s voice in the masculine world of Latin literature.

Even without considering generic tendencies, however, Hersilia’s apotheosis in the Met.

can be read as a commentary on the unfairly masculine view of historical representation. As a

figure who was primarily associated with the rape of the Sabines, she is a prime example of how

feminine concerns can be devalued in the face of the masculine historical perspective as it is

represented in the historians’ accounts of the Sabine affair. Ovid hints at this masculine

historical perspective when he justifies Hersilia’s deification entirely with regard to her behavior

towards her husband and allows Quirinus himself to finish the process of apotheosis (whereas

Juno had started it). But his attempts at safely circumscribing Hersilia in the realm of masculine

control seem to be intentionally flimsy, for Hersilia’s voice – reminiscent of the “feminine

realm” of Heroides – and the unprecedented nature of her honors (as well as the near-

equivalence of these honors with those of Julius Caesar) escape that control, just as Ovid’s

representation of the rape itself in the Ars defies the traditional portrayal of that event in

masculine, political terms.

2. The Matron and Mars: Hersilia on the Battlefield in the Fasti

The Hersilia of the Fasti appears in a different narrative context from the Hersilia of the

Metamorphoses, and her character, too, is markedly dissimilar: rather than the dutiful wife

lamenting the death of her husband, she is a leader among women, rousing her comrades to

action. And yet she, too, like the Hersilia of the Metamorphoses, is a woman whose role escapes

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the bounds of masculine circumscription that the poet ostensibly places upon her. This process is

even more explicit in the Fasti than it is in the Met., for Mars’ narration is overtly a masculine

attempt at appropriation of an event pertaining to females, an attempt that fails in the face of

Hersilia’s unique characterization and the subtle assertion of the “true” meaning of the event.

Hersilia’s passage, which is narrated by Mars, is offered as an explanation for the

placement of the Matronalia (the celebration of mothers) on the kalends of the month named for

himself, the god of war. It begins after the brief description of the rape of the Sabine women:

intumuere Cures et quos dolor attigit idem:

tum primum generis intulit arma socer,

iamque fere raptae matrum quoque nomen habebant,

tractaque erant longa bella propinqua mora:

conveniunt nuptae dictam Iunonis in aedem, 205

quas inter mea sic est nurus ausa loqui:

‘o pariter raptae (quoniam hoc commune tenemus)

non ultra lente possumus esse piae.

stant acies: sed utra di sint pro parte rogandi,

eligite; hinc coniunx, hinc pater arma tenet, 210

quaerendum est viduae fieri malitis an orbae:

consilium vobis forte piumque dabo.’

consilium dederat: parent crinesque resolvunt

maestaque funerea corpora veste tegunt.

iam steterant acies ferro mortique paratae, 215

iam lituus pugnae signa daturus erat:

cum raptae veniunt inter patresque virosque,

inque sinu natos, pignora cara, tenent,

ut medium campi passis tetigere capillis,

in terram posito procubuere genu; 220

et, quasi sentirent, blando clamore nepotes

tendebant ad avos bracchia parva suos:

qui poterat, clamabat avum tum denique visum,

et qui vix poterat, posse coactus erat.

tela viris animique cadunt, gladiisque remotis 225

dant soceri generis accipiuntque manus,

laudatasque tenent natas, scutoque nepotem

fert avus: hic scuti dulcior usus erat.

inde diem quae prima meas celebrare Kalendas

Oebaliae matres non leve munus habent, 230

aut quia committi strictis mucronibus ausae

finierant lacrimis Martia bella suis;

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vel quod erat de me feliciter Ilia mater,

rite colunt matres sacra diemque meum.

(Fast. 3.201-233)

The Cures and all those affected by the same grief were furious: then for the first time

father-in-law waged war against son-in-law. And now those just ravished had the name

of mothers also, and wars with the neighbouring peoples were waged at length: the brides

gather in the appointed temple of Juno, and among them my daughter-in-law dared to

speak as follows: ‘Oh women equally ravished (since we have this in common), no longer

is it possible for us to be lazily pious. The battle lines are drawn, but choose which side

you must pray to the gods for: on this side your husband, on the other side your father

takes arms. You must decide whether you prefer to become widows or orphans: I will

give you a bold and pious plan.’ She gave her counsel: they obey and unbind their hair

and cover their sad bodies with funereal clothing. Now the battle lines stand prepared for

iron and death, now the horn was about to give the signal for battle: when the ravished

women come between their fathers and husbands, and they hold their children, dear

pledges of love, in their bosom. When they reached the middle of the plain with their

streaming hair, they knelt on the ground on bended knees, and, as if they understood, the

grand-children with winning cries stretched their small arms toward their grandfathers: he

who could shouted ‘Grandfather’ when he finally saw him, and he who was hardly able

was forced to be able. The weapons and spirits of the men fall, and they remove their

swords and give and receive the hands of father-in-law and son-in-law, and they hold and

praise their daughters, and grandfather carries grandson on his shield: this was a sweeter

use for the shield. Thence it is that Oebalian mothers have the somber duty of celebrating

the day, which is the first, my Kalends, either because they dared to commit themselves

to drawn blades and finished the Martial wars with their tears; or because Ilia was happily

made a mother by me, the mothers duly observe the rites and my day.

The question of why matrons honor Mars on the kalends (matronae cur tua festa colant, 3.170),

when we might rather expect men to honor the god of war (cum sis officiis, Gradive, virilibus

aptus, 3.169) explicitly addresses the tension between masculine and feminine concerns. What

Ovid is referring to here is the Matronalia, a celebration occurring on March 1st that catered to

“women’s interests.”274 And yet the speaker – Mars himself – attempts to turn the “women’s

interests” into celebrations of himself, using this lengthy explanation along with several brief

ones. In this story, Hersilia (as Mars’ nurus, “daughter-in-law,” 3.206) is the author of the

274 Scullard 1981: 85.

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women’s plan to intercede in the hostilities between Romans and Sabines, and she is given

several lines of direct speech in which she persuades the women that they must spring to action.

Let us investigate how this relates to our other sources on Hersilia. The source

chronologically closest to Ovid, Livy, tells a similar story in Book 1.13 (which I also explored on

pp.112-113 above in the context of the masculine perspective of the rape narrative): just as in

Ovid, the Sabine women band together to stop the war that has been raging between their

husbands and fathers, and they do so with disheveled hair and torn clothes. But there are also

significant differences: in Livy there is no mention of their plan beforehand, nor is Hersilia

specifically mentioned as author of the idea. In fact, she is not mentioned at all. Finally, Livy’s

story does not involve children in any way. Nevertheless, it is clear that Livy is one of Ovid’s

models, as Ovid adapts the last part of the women’s speech in Livy (melius peribimus quam sine

alteris uestrum uiduae aut orbae uiuemus.' 1.13.3) to the penultimate line of Hersilia’s speech in

the Fasti (quaerendum est viduae fieri malitis an orbae, Fast. 3.211).275

And while Livy’s Hersilia is not involved in the women’s attempts at persuasion in this

particular episode in Livy, she does play a similar role in an earlier episode: in Livy 1.11,

Hersilia, on behalf of the other Sabine women, pleads with Romulus to show mercy to the

vanquished Antemnates, one of the peoples against whom the Romans fought following the rape:

Fusi igitur primo impetu et clamore hostes, oppidum captum; duplicique uictoria ouantem

Romulum Hersilia coniunx precibus raptarum fatigata orat, ut parentibus earum det

ueniam et in ciuitatem accipiat; ita rem coalescere concordia posse.

(Livy 1.11.2)

Therefore the enemy was scattered by the first attack and clamor; the town was captured;

and Hersilia, influenced by the prayers of the captured women, went to Romulus, who

was gloating over his double victory, and begged him to grant forgiveness to their fathers

275 Ursini 2008: 258-9.

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and receive them into the citizenry; thus he would be able to strengthen the state with

concord.276

Thus Hersilia appears in Livy – as in Ovid – as the representative of the Sabine women, who

resists acts of violence by means of persuasion, even if she does not appear in this capacity in

exactly the same context in both authors.

Another of Ovid’s probable sources is Dionysius of Halicarnassus, whose version is

similar to Ovid’s in its elevation of Hersilia to the leader of the women:

45) [2] ἡ δὲ τοῦτο εἰσηγησαμένη τὸ βούλευμα ταῖς γυναιξὶν Ἑρσιλία μὲν ἐκαλεῖτο,

γένους δ᾽ οὐκ ἀφανοῦς ἦν ἐν Σαβίνοις... [5] μετὰ τοῦτο ἐξῄεσαν ἐσθῆτας ἔχουσαι

πενθίμους, τινὲς δὲ αὐτῶν καὶ τέκνα νήπια ἐπαγόμεναι. ὡς δ᾽ εἰς τὸν χάρακα τῶν

Σαβίνων προῆλθον ὀδυρόμεναί τε καὶ προσπίπτουσαι τοῖς τῶν ἀπαντώντων γόνασι πολὺν

οἶκτον ἐκ τῶν ὁρώντων ἐκίνησαν, [6] καὶ τὰ δάκρυα κατέχειν οὐδεὶς ἱκανὸς ἦν.

συναχθέντος δὲ αὐταῖς τοῦ συνεδρίου τῶν προβούλων καὶ κελεύσαντος τοῦ βασιλέως

ὑπὲρ ὧν ἥκουσι λέγειν ἡ τοῦ βουλεύματος ἄρξασα καὶ τὴν ἡγεμονίαν ἔχουσα τῆς

πρεσβείας Ἑρσιλία μακρὰν καὶ συμπαθῆ διεξῆλθε δέησιν, ἀξιοῦσα χαρίσασθαι τὴν

εἰρήνην ταῖς δεομέναις ὑπὲρ τῶν ἀνδρῶν, δι᾽ ἃς ἐξενηνέχθαι τὸν πόλεμον ἀπέφαινεν: ἐφ᾽

οἷς δὲ γενήσονται δικαίοις αἱ διαλύσεις, τοὺς ἡγεμόνας αὐτοὺς συνελθόντας ἐφ᾽ ἑαυτῶν

διομολογήσασθαι πρὸς τὸ κοινῇ συμφέρον ὁρῶντας.

46) [1] τοιαῦτα εἰποῦσαι προὔπεσον ἅπασαι τῶν τοῦ βασιλέως γονάτων ἅμα τοῖς τέκνοις

καὶ διέμενον ἐρριμμέναι, τέως ἀνέστησαν αὐτὰς ἐκ τῆς γῆς οἱ παρόντες ἅπαντα ποιήσειν

τὰ μέτρια καὶ τὰ δυνατὰ ὑπισχνούμενοι...

(D.H. 2.45-46.1)

45) [2] The one who proposed this measure to the rest of the women was named Hersilia,

a woman of no obscure birth among the Sabines.... [5] After this the women went out

dressed in mourning, some of them also carrying their infant children. When they arrived

in the camp of the Sabines, lamenting and falling at the feet of those they met, they

aroused great compassion in all who saw them and none could refrain from tears. [6] And

when the councillors had been called together to receive them and the king had

commanded them to state their reasons for coming, Hersilia, who had proposed the plan

and was at the head of the embassy, delivered a long plea that aroused pity, begging them

to grant peace to those who were interceding for their husbands and on whose account,

she pointed out, the war had been undertaken. As to the terms, however, on which peace

should be made, she said the leaders, coming together by themselves, might settle them

with a view to the advantage of both parties.

276 Translation from Roberts 1912.

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46) [1] After she had spoken thus, all the women with their children threw themselves at

the feet of the king and remained prostrate till those who were present raised them from

the ground and promised to do everything that was reasonable and in their power...277

Just as in Ovid, Hersilia is the mover of the plan. Moreover, she appears as an accomplished

speaker; she speaks at length and persuasively before the men, marking her as an unusual

woman. Notably different from Ovid’s account is the fact that Hersilia is not mentioned as

Romulus’ wife – indeed, she does not appear in that capacity in Dionysius of Halicarnassus at all

– and the fact that she is not granted any direct speech, so that her gifted voice is not privileged.

Plutarch, too, provides a version of the story in which Hersilia and the women stop the

fighting between the Sabines and the Romans. Since he is a successor of Ovid, rather than a

predecessor or contemporary, I will not explore the relationship between Plutarch and Ovid in

detail. But a brief look at Plutarch’s version (given in Appendix II) seems warranted, since

Plutarch was influenced by earlier Roman historians and, indeed, Ovid himself:278 in Plutarch, as

in our other non-Ovidian sources, we do not see the meeting of the women in which they plan

their approach to the men; the Sabine women appear with their hair unbound, holding their

children, but it does not seem to be the result of deliberate planning on their part. A lengthy

speech that “began with expostulation and upbraiding, and ended with entreaty and supplication”

(εἰς ἱκεσίαν καὶ δέησιν ἐκ δικαιολογίας καὶ παρρησίας τελευτῶντας, 19.2) follows, after which

we discover it was not all of the Sabines saying these words (ἔφασαν, 19.3), but Hersilia

(τοιαῦτα πολλὰ τῆς Ἑρσιλίας προαγορευούσης καὶ τῶν ἄλλων δεομένων, 19.5).

277 Translation from Cary 1937.

278 The story about the Roman matrons’ abortion as a form of protest in Plutarch’s Roman Questions 278 b-c,

which is clearly derived from Ovid’s Fasti (as I will argue in the next chapter), is just one example of Plutarch’s use

of Ovid as a source.

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The speech itself presents interesting variations in the different authors. First, there is

Livy’s speech (1.13), wherein the women paint themselves not as mere victims, but as the cause

of the current circumstance (‘If,’ they cried, ‘you are weary of these ties of kindred, these

marriage-bonds, then turn your anger upon us; it is we who are the cause of the war, the cause of

the wounds and deaths of our husbands and fathers. Better for us to perish than live without one

or the other of you, as widows or as orphans,” Livy 1.13.3). They put the burden of the Sabine

vs. Roman violence squarely upon themselves, which seems troubling at first, but may in fact be

a clever way for the women to flatter the men (by not blaming them) and arouse their pity,

thereby making their plea more persuasive.

In Dionysius, the women make their plea in the Sabine camp, to the Sabines alone, and

therefore they are not required to flatter both sides: “Hersilia, who had proposed the plan and

was at the head of the embassy, delivered a long plea that aroused pity, begging them to grant

peace to those who were interceding for their husbands and on whose account, she pointed out,

the war had been undertaken.”(D.H. 2.45.2) The summary of the speech that follows seems

level-headed and rational. Hersilia asks for peace on their husbands’ behalf and, moreover,

suggests that since the Sabine women are the ones for whom violence was undertaken in the first

place, their pleas for the violence’s cessation ought to be honored. Dionysius’ apparent desire to

exculpate Romulus from charges of excessive violence and impulsivity (D.H. 2.30.1 ff. details

the rationality of Romulus’ approach and his sympathy toward the understandably-upset stolen

women) undoubtedly influences the pro-Roman bent of Hersilia’s speech, for the Sabine women

intercede on behalf of the Romans alone, rather than on behalf of both sides, and the Sabine men

are depicted as being at fault.

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Hersilia’s lengthy speech in Plutarch covers a great deal of ground, but the uniting theme

seems to be the insistence that both the Romans (who raped them in the first place) and the

Sabines (who did not avenge the women right away and now are trying to take them away from

their husbands) are greatly at fault.279

Ovid’s speech, too, approaches the issue from a different angle. When the Sabine women

appear on the battlefield, we do not hear their words, only the cries of “Grandpa!” from the

children whom they bring with them. Hersilia’s speech, given to the women before they enact

their plan on the battlefield, is therefore quite different from the speeches given in the other

authors. Hersilia does refer to the women’s status as victims, raptae (Fast. 3.207), but uses this

status as a way to invoke community among the women rather than pity from husbands or

fathers. The terse, balanced syntax of the next few lines (stant acies, sed utra di sint pro parte

rogandi./eligite: hinc coniunx, hinc pater arma tenet – “the battle lines are arrayed, but choose

on behalf of which the gods should be beseeched: on this side your husband, on the other your

father holds his arms,” Fast. 3.208-209), combined with the use of the imperative eligite,

suggests rational, almost militaristic thinking on Hersilia’s part, as well as the women’s active

role, their choice in what will follow. Hersilia’s last statement, that she will give them a plan

both “pious” and “strong/brave” (forte), is a commentary on her own piety, bravery, and ability

279‘...ἡρπάσθημεν ὑπὸ τῶν νῦν ἐχόντων βίᾳ καὶ παρανόμως, ἁρπασθεῖσαι δ᾽ ἠμελήθημεν ὑπ᾽ ἀδελφῶν καὶ

πατέρων καὶ οἰκείων χρόνον τοσοῦτον, ὅσος ἡμᾶς πρὸς τὰ ἔχθιστα κεράσας ταῖς μεγίσταις ἀνάγκαις πεποίηκε νῦν

ὑπὲρ τῶν βιασαμένων καὶ παρανομησάντων δεδιέναι μαχομένων καὶ κλαίειν θνῃσκόντων.’ “We were ravished

away unjustly and violently by those whose now we are; that being done, we were so long neglected by our fathers,

our brothers and countrymen, that time, having now by the strictest bonds united us to those we once mortally hated,

has made it impossible for us not to tremble at the danger and weep at the death of the very men who once used

violence to us.” (Plutarch Rom. 19.3) See appendix for the speech in full (Rom. 19.3-5).

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to plan. Mars’ introduction of her speech, where he comments that she “dared” to speak (ausa,

3.206), supports this reading of Hersilia. Furthermore, her plan includes theatrical “tricks” to

make the women seem more sympathetic, i.e. hurting their children to make them cry (3.224),

rather than relying solely on genuine grief.

This Hersilia is very different from the woman we see in other authors, and indeed from

the woman we see in the Metamorphoses,280 for this Hersilia is a woman with a commanding

presence, rational intelligence, and the ability to go from victim to leader and thereby effect

change. As Murgatroyd puts it:

She comes across here as a brave and determined leader in her own right, and also as a

shrewd and intelligent one: she carefully justifies her bold plan to the women at 3.207ff.;

and it involves extensive appeals by them to the men (3.123f., 219f.) and in particular

(146) the masterstroke of taking along the children, and urging, bullying and pinching

them into crying for their grandfathers (3.221 ff.). In all of this she surpasses

Romulus...So too she is a self-starter, whereas he (at 3.197f.) had to be pushed into action

by Mars...And Romulus is here downplayed (by Mars!), figuring only at 3.183-6 and

197f., while his wife predominates in the conclusion and has a crucial role, responsible

for the whole happy ending.”281

Hersilia is a driving force, and her speech is more a military speech rousing others to action than

an elegiac lament. The Hersilia of Livy, Dionysius, and Plutarch, on the other hand, focuses on

her victimization and on her utter dependence on the male figures in her life. The Hersilia of

280 Murgatroyd 2005: 147: “it would appear that this is the only account in which Romulus’ wife is represented

as the one behind this ploy (conceiving of it and in complete control of its implementation) and is given textual

prominence. That makes for intricacy and an entertainingly tart and provocative flavour... There is also a certain

irreverence towards the famous Romulus (in a narrative by his own father), achieved by means of his elsewhere

rather obscure wife.”

281 Murgatroyd 2005: 147. Miles 1992: 176-177 argues that, on the contrary, Hersilia’s speech and the

women’s dependence on their children to produce the desired result reveals a role just as submissive and victimized

as the role of the women in other authors. I believe that it is extremely difficult to read the episode in this way,

given Hersilia’s powerful speech and the women’s utter control over the theatrics they use (e.g. pinching the

children to make them cry).

140

Ovid’s Fasti thus becomes a sort of proto-feminist figure, a woman who is intellectually and

emotionally powerful and capable of acting independently.

And yet, just as in the Metamorphoses, the context of the passage seems to circumscribe

her in the realm of male power, suppressing her independence by redefining her and her actions

in masculine terms, for we cannot forget that it is Mars who is relating this tale, and in doing so,

he makes everything about Mars.

The first place in which Mars’ control over the narrative appears is in his introduction to

Hersilia’s speech: conveniunt nuptae dictam Iunonis in aedem,/quas inter mea sic est nurus ausa

loqui (Fast. 3.205-206). Hersilia is not named here, but is referred to instead as Mars’

“daughter-in-law.” On the one hand, this is an erudite allusion that requires the reader to be

knowledgeable of Mars’ family tree, and such allusions are not uncommon in an Alexandrian

work, especially a work that is directly inspired by Callimachus’ Aitia. On the other hand, the

fact that one might expect such an allusion does not diminish its effect, which is the redefinition

of Hersilia’s identity in terms of her relationship to Romulus and Mars.

The whole episode involves Mars stealing credit for the Matronalia and putting it within

the realm of his power. Though the Matronalia festival is not mentioned by name, the use of the

word matronae at Fast. 3.170 and the repeated use of the word mater throughout the episode

(Fast. 3.203, 230, 233, 234, and 251) suggest that the episode is meant to explain the Matronalia.

And yet, as far we know, the Matronalia was actually not in Mars’ purview. Rather, the kalends

of March, which included a celebration of Mars, also included a festival honoring “women’s

interests” and Juno Lucina.282 The festival of Mars included the dancing of the Salii, whose

antics Ovid explains starting at 3.259. But the Matronalia was different: as the 1st of March was

282 Scullard 1981: 85.

141

the dies natalis of the temple of Juno Lucina on the Esquiline (and the kalends of every month

were sacred to Juno anyway),283 on that day women honored her and were honored in the

“unofficial” holiday known as the Matronalia.284

Thus Ovid, as he does on so many other occasions, gives the ritual a meaning that likely

did not exist before. Nor does he do this because he himself is mistaken, for he hints more than

once at the true meaning of the women’s festival. Following the story of the women’s

intercession in the war between Romans and Sabines, Mars gives several other possible reasons

for the celebration of/by women on his day, the first two being his impregnation of Ilia (Fast.

3.233-234) and the fact that the beginning of March represents the beginning of new life in

nature (3.235-244). But the last two explanations show that, in actuality, Ovid is aware of the

fact that Mars has nothing directly to do with the Matronalia:

“adde quod, excubias ubi rex Romanus agebat, 245

qui nunc Esquilias nomina collis habet,

illic a nuribus Iunoni templa Latinis

hac sunt, si memini, publica facta die.

quid moror et variis onero tua pectora causis?

eminet ante oculos quod petis ecce tuos. 250

mater amat nuptas: matris me turba frequentat:

haec nos praecipue tam pia causa decet.”

(Fasti 3.245-252)

“Add to this the fact that, where the Roman king used to keep watch, the hill that now has

the name ‘Esquiline,’ there a temple to Juno was built by wives on this very day, if I

remember correctly. Why do I delay and burden your heart with various causes? Behold!

That which you seek stands before your eyes. My mother loves brides: a crowd of

mothers visits me: such a pious reason as this befits me especially.”

283 Scullard 1981: 87. Dumezil 1966: 295 cites Macrobius: ut autem Idus omnes Iovi, ita omnes Kalendas

Junoni tributas et Varronis et pontificalis adfirmat auctoritas – “moreover, as all the ides were sacred to Jove, so the

authority of Varro and the pontifices confirms that all the kalends were sacred to Juno.”

284 Scullard 1981: 87.

142

The references to the temple of Juno Lucina, which was dedicated on this day, and to Mars’

mother (Juno) make it clear that Ovid is aware of the real reason for the matrons’ special role on

the kalends of March. Line 251, which links Juno as mater to the Roman matres and connects

both of them to the Matronalia, makes this point almost explicitly.

Mars seems determined to make the Matronalia about him, but he does so

unconvincingly. For his explanation that the women celebrate him out of respect for his mother

(Fast. 3.251) is not very compelling, given that all of the Olympian gods are related to each other

and tend to be given their own particular festivals rather than having to share a festival with

family members. Or, if mater in 3.251 is a reference to mothers in general, what does Mars have

to do with mothers and brides? Even less convincing is the connection of the Sabine story to

Mars: the women celebrate the god of war because they stopped a war (3.229-232)? Just as

unsatisfactory is the explanation that Mars’ connection to the Matronalia has to do with the fact

that Ilia was made a mother by him (vel quod erat de me feliciter Ilia mater, 3.233). Though it is

true that Ilia was an important figure in Roman history as mother of the founders of Rome, there

is no indication in our other sources that Ilia had a place in the celebrations on the kalends of

March, and celebrations of Rome’s birthday (on April 21st, for example) surely overshadowed

any potential celebrations of the impregnation of the mother of Rome’s founders.

Ovid is aware of the actual reason for the celebration of the Matronalia, and yet he makes

Mars create unbelievable (and humorous) connections between himself and the celebration of

women. What, then, is the poet trying to accomplish?

We must consider that masculine-centered viewpoint again, the historical perspective that

makes even events that very much pertained to women, like the rape of the Sabines, into events

that further “masculine” goals like alliance and empire. As we have seen, the historical versions

143

of the rape of the Sabines always keep Romulus and Rome and the future of the Roman state in

focus, digressing very little into the realm of how the captured women felt about their forced role

in the endeavor. Even in moments where the women are given direct speech, such as in the

intercession in the hostilities, the masculine internal audience and the masculine-focused

outcome (political alliance and joint rulership between Roman and Sabine kings) are privileged.

Ovid’s versions of the rape question this masculine view: the detailed description of the women’s

reactions to the rape in the Ars focuses on what it meant to them to be victims of this violent act,

while Ovid’s version of the intercession in the Fasti fashions the direct speech of Hersilia, her

“plea,” into a rousing motivational speech, spoken woman to woman, and not only states that the

women’s actions on the battlefield were praised (laudatas, 3.227) but also connects this entire

episode to a holiday celebrated by women in Rome, suggesting that it is the women’s actions that

are worthy of eternal celebration.285 Mars’ failed (and humorous) attempts at making the

Matronalia about him, then, are a reflection of the “historical” attempts at masculine

appropriation of women’s stories, and the subtle assertion of the true reason for the Matronalia

(Juno Lucina) at the end of the episode (3.245-248) echoes Ovid’s assertions of the women’s role

in actions that were historically construed as having to do with men.

Making Goddesses in Rome: Hersilia in the Metamorphoses

Hersilia’s apotheosis in the Metamorphoses, though it has no relation to previous

versions of the story of the Sabine women, is similar to the Fasti passage in its attribution of

honor to a woman in a historically masculine context. In the realm of imperial deification, which

285 Miles 1992: 171 sees in the Matronalia a female response to the masculine-centered Consualia of the rape

itself.

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was in Ovid’s time still an entirely masculine one (as Livia, the first “empress” to be deified, did

not achieve that honor until 41 CE), Hersilia’s elevation is surprising.

Livia was not celebrated as a goddess during Ovid’s time. Indeed, the explicit parallels

that Ovid draws between Livia and the divine seem to be unique. As Barrett comments,

The worship of the imperial family was not officially sanctioned in Rome, but it is clear

that on an informal and unofficial level people thought of the emperor in terms that came

very close to the divine. The poets seem generally to have been reluctant to express the

same feelings about Livia. In Vergil and Horace there are frequent laudatory allusions to

Augustus, even to divine attributes that the poets observed in him. But Livia is

mentioned only in passing by Horace, in a single innocuous context, and Vergil says

nothing of her. By contrast Ovid throws restraint to the winds, and his special

circumstances and desperate need for intercession must surely lie behind the

difference.286

Despite the fact that Livia had not yet attained divine honors when Ovid was writing and revising

the Met., many scholars have pointed out similarities between Hersilia and Livia, not just

because of Hersilia’s political importance but also because of her parallel positioning with

Romulus, who, as we saw in the Remus chapter, was a figure often associated with Augustus.287

Certain verbal and thematic characteristics of the passage also seem to invite such a reading.

First, there is the fact that it is Juno who inspires the apotheosis. It should not surprise us that

Hersilia, the quintessential Roman wife and creator of marriage customs - to judge by Cassius

Dio’s report of Augustus’ speech in favor of marriage, at least (Ἐρσιλία ἡ καὶ τῇ θυγατρὶ

ἀκολουθήσασα καὶ τὰ γαμικὰ πάνθ᾽ ἡμῖν καταδείξασα: “Hersilia who attended her daughter’s

wedding and instituted all marriage rites for us,” 56.5.5-6) - would have a divine champion in

Juno, the goddess of marriage. As Myers puts it, “Juno, as goddess of marriage, takes full

286 Barrett 2002: 194.

287 Domenicucci 1991: 228.

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authority for Hersilie’s deification, while Jupiter had requested her assent for those of Hercules

and Aeneas.”288

Juno also had a special connection with Livia and Augustus. Juno was one of Livia’s

iconographic counterparts, along with Vesta, Ceres, and Pax.289 Ovid himself explicitly

associated Livia’s mores with Juno’s in the exile poetry (quae Veneris formam, mores Iunonis

habendo, Pont. 3.1.117).290 Moreover, Augustus especially cultivated the worship of Juno

Regina, including her among the deities honored by the ludi saeculares,291 and Ovid may be

alluding to Juno Regina specifically when he calls the Juno of the Hersilia episode regia (Met.

14.829), though this may also be a “Virgilian formula” and a reference to Juno as queen of

Olympus.292 Ovid connects the worship of Juno Regina to Hersilia elsewhere in the Fasti, too,

when he uses the Sabine women’s intercession in the wars between Romans and Sabines as an

aetiology for the Matronalia, which was (as Ovid himself admits at Fast. 3.247-248) originally

instituted in honor of Juno Regina. Thus Ovid’s depiction of Hersilia associates her with Juno,

who had herself become associated with the Augustan household and Livia in particular.293

And Hersilia is not just connected to a goddess whom Augustus and Livia especially

cultivated; she is also referred to in terms often used of Livia herself: first, as matrona (Met.

14.833), when Livia was the ultimate exemplum of the Roman matrona, and then with words

288 Myers 2009: 209.

289 Bartman 1999: 94; Wood 1999.

290 Pont. 3.1.117-118; see Johnson 1997: 415.

291 Palmer 1974: 27.

292 Myers 2009: 208.

293 King 2006: 268 n.112 lists several pieces of evidence for “Livia’s special (propagandistic) favor for the

goddess Juno.”

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that Ovid often uses to praise Livia in his other poetry. The dignissima tanti...viri, coniunx used

of Hersilia at Met.14.833-834 echoes phrases describing Livia in the Fasti and Ovid’s exile

poetry:294

sola toro magni digna reperta Iovis.

“She alone having been found worthy of the bed of great Jove.”

(Fast. 1.650)

Livia...quae, nisi te, nullo coniuge digna fuit

“Livia…who was deserving of no husband but you

(Tr. 2.161-2)

turaque Caesaribus cum coniuge Caesare digna

(bring) incense to the Caesars and to the wife worthy of Caesar

(Pont. 1.4.55)

sola est caelesti digna reperta toro

She alone was found worthy of a heavenly marriage-bed

(Pont. 3.1.118)

The comparison of Hersilia to Livia and thus, to Juno - since Augustus is compared directly to

Jupiter on several occasions (and one occasion in this context, Fast. 1.650) - creates a complex

relationship between these three female figures. Like Hersilia and Juno, Livia is “worthy” of her

great husband. And like the deified Hersilia/Hora and Juno, Livia will be granted divine status,

even if hers is only promised in the future.

Yet while it is easy, if perhaps a little too convenient, to understand the flattery of Livia

in the Fasti given the context of Ovid’s revisions of that work, it is difficult to understand how

Hersilia’s apotheosis in the Metamorphoses fits into this scheme. It is important to note that the

294 Myers 2009: 209, Domenicucci 1991: 228.

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phrases that connected Hersilia explicitly to Livia in my argument above (e.g. dignissima

tanti...viri) were not used of Livia until after Ovid’s exile. Although significant revisions could

certainly have occurred to the Metamorphoses after Ovid’s exile,295 those phrases used of

Hersilia could not be understood as explicit references to Livia until much later.

Nevertheless, the association between Romulus and Augustus already existed at the time

that Ovid was writing the Metamorphoses, and so Hersilia could still be understood as an implied

parallel to Livia, especially since Livia had already been granted unprecedented honors before

Ovid’s time: in 35 BCE, she (along with Octavian’s sister Octavia) was granted the

sacrosanctity of a tribune, as well as financial independence and the right to travel in a

carpentum.296 Moreover, she was actively involved in matters of state: she restored the temples

of Fortuna Muliebris, Bona Dea Subsaxana, Pudicitia Plebeiana and Pudicitia Patricia, and

Concordia,297 and she apparently involved herself in political matters, to the extent that she was

depicted as a meddler by Tacitus, who condemns (if implicitly) Livia’s involvement in the

provincial affairs as a dangerous precedent for the imperial women who would follow her;

indeed, provincial cities awarded her honors in the form of titles, statues, and cults before she

was honored this way in Rome. 298 Ovid, meanwhile, saw her as a potential resource in his quest

to be recalled from exile, to judge by his words in Pont. 3.1.114-166.299 Ovid obviously believed

295 And there is some suggestion that such revisions did, indeed, occur – see Boyle 2003: 9 and Martelli 2013:

104-144.

296 Purcell 1986: 85-86.

297 Purcell 1986: 88.

298 Wood 1999: 80.

299 Particularly lines 135-144, which suggest the appropriate time to approach Livia and describe the sort of

scene that often surrounds her (as Ovid imagines it): cum domus Augusti Capitoli more colenda/laeta, quod est et

sit, plenaque pacis erit,/ tum tibi di faciant adeundi copia fiat,/profectura aliquid tum tua uerba putes./ Si quid aget

maius, differ tua coepta caueque/spem festinando praecipitare meam./Nec rursus iubeo, dum sit uacuissima,

quaeras:/ corporis ad curam uix uacat illa sui. / . . . per rerum turbam tu quoque oportet eas. “When the house of

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that Livia, who dealt with petitioners, could help him in his exile, if his wife appealed to her at

the appropriate time.”300 All this is to say that, whether or not she was explicitly honored as

worthy of divinity when Ovid was working on the Metamorphoses, she certainly appeared to be

no less deserving of divinity than her masculine counterpart. Ovid’s Hersilia, then, might be

read as a commentary on the unfairly masculine nature of Roman deification, or at the very least

as Ovid’s mischievous (re)shaping of the imperial ideology surrounding apotheosis.

Even divorced from any reference to Livia, though, Hersilia’s deification suggests that

Ovid is playing with the political process of apotheosis. The justifications for and mechanisms

of apotheosis seem to have been a topic of interest for Ovid. Feeney explores this interest in the

Metamorphoses’ in The Gods in Epic: he notes that the apotheoses of Hercules and Romulus

show more interest in the how of their deification than the why,301 that the state mechanisms for

deifications are brought to the fore in the story of Aesculapius’ arrival in Rome,302 and that the

deification of Julius Caesar explores the idea of “divine power politics” and the role of nepotism

in the granting of divine honors.303 Scott, meanwhile, explores the way in which the post-exilic

poetry seeks to flatter and grant honor to Augustus and his family by granting him and his family

divine honors, even when such honors had not yet been attained in reality.304

Augustus, to be revered in the same manner as the Capitol, is happy as it is now, and when it is full of peace, then

may the gods grant you the opportunity to approach, then you might think that your words will achieve something.

If she’s doing anything greater, put off your attempt and beware not to endanger my hope by rushing. Nor do I bid

you to seek her, while she is most at leisure: she scarcely has time for personal care…it is necessary for you to go in

the thick of things.”

300 Wood 1999: 80.

301 Feeney 1991: 206-208.

302 Feeney 1991: 208.

303 Feeney 1991: 210-211.

304 Scott 1930.

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Feeney is silent, however, about Hersilia and how she fits into these matters. But given

Ovid’s interest in the how and the why of apotheosis, as well as his interest in the somewhat

arbitrary nature of divine power, Hersilia’s deification is a highly significant episode. At the

time of Ovid’s writing, no “historical” woman had been granted divine honors, but Ovid invents

Hersilia’s transformation into the goddess Hora, and he presents her deification as being purely

justified by nepotism, i.e. her relationship with her husband. It is possible to read this invention

as an attempt to highlight and question not only the exclusively masculine and highly political

nature of apotheosis but also what seems to be the extraordinarily arbitrary nature of divine

power, not with regard to how it is used against mortals (which is what Feeney discusses) but

with regard to how it is given to mortals.

Salzman suggests that the apotheoses in the Metamorphoses have a subversive tone in

comparison to those in the Fasti, which she sees as more straightforward:

…the openly ambiguous and ironic view of deification in the Metamorphoses is

consistent with the poet’s skepticism concerning Greek myth and Augustan manipulation

of Roman religion, while the more restrained tone and positive view of deification in the

Fasti may reflect an appreciation for its Roman religious context and, perhaps, a desire to

write poetry that would not provoke the princeps.305

As support for her claims, Salzman points out that Romulus’ apotheosis in the Metamorphoses

focuses very little on his accomplishments. In fact, Rome is founded “in five words, in the

passive, with no named agent.”306 She points out, too, that the apotheoses in the Metamorphoses

are often marred by humor and sarcasm. The most obvious example of this is Julius Caesar’s

apotheosis, which is not only made humorous by the fact that his star is dropped by Venus on her

way to heaven (dumque tulit, lumen capere atque ignescere sensit/emisitque sinu... “And while

305 Salzman 1998: 317.

306 Salzman 1998: 325; Feeney 1991: 208.

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she carried [him], she felt him glow and begin to catch fire, and she dropped him from her

breast,” Met. 14.847-8) but also fashioned into an explicit criticism of the process of deification

with Ovid’s famous commentary on Augustus’ role in his adoptive father’s divinity: ne foret hic

igitur mortali semine cretus,/ille deus faciendus erat…(“therefore lest he [Augustus] be born of

mortal seed, that one [Julius Caesar] had to be made a god”; Met. 14.760-1).307 It is difficult to

find anything humorous in Hersilia’s apotheosis, nor is there anything glaringly ironic about its

representation. And yet the fact that Ovid not only invents the apotheosis but also suggests that

Hersilia deserves divine status simply because of her relationship with her husband lends some

credibility to Salzman’s reading. Is Ovid ironically suggesting that Hersilia’s apotheosis – like

those of Romulus, Julius Caesar, and the other Roman historical figures – is unfounded and a bit

unbelievable? And even, perhaps, that he is as capable of creating a divinity wholesale as the

political figures of his day? Ovid’s Hersilia provides an example of the poet’s power to create,

which here is made equal to that of both gods and emperors.308

It is difficult to understand how the Fasti passage fits into Salzman’s formulation, as

Hersilia is (strangely) not a goddess in that work. Indeed, if Salzman’s suggestion that the Fasti

displays more reverence for Roman religion than the Met. does is correct, it might explain why

Ovid was unwilling to make Hersilia, who was not, in fact, a Roman goddess, into a goddess in

307 Glenn 1986: 203-204 summarizes the “flaws” in the ostensibly “laudatory passage,” including contradictions

(e.g. Venus’ complaint that if Caesar is murdered no descendant of Iulus will remain after Augustus is presented as

coming from Julius Caesar’s seed) and problematic literary allusions to negative father-son exempla.

308 Feeney 1991: 225: “As the (virtually) sole acknowledged originator of his fifteen-book world, Ovid sports

ceaselessly with his power to command or suspend our credence in his fictions. No Latin poet shows such a

systematic or inventive engagement with the issues of fiction and authentication which have preoccupied us

throughout this book. Ovid had been obsessed with these issues since the start of his career.” See, for example,

Amores 3.12. Feeney suggests, too, that Ovid’s statement at Met. 8.618-619 – “Boundless is the power of the gods”

– can be understood to apply to poets, as well.

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the Fasti. But the Fasti passage certainly does not present a straightforward, reverent view of

Roman religion, particularly in its humorous depiction of the figure of Mars.

Mars’ somewhat subversive depiction in the Fasti has already been explored by Hinds

and others.309 First, there is the fact that he, the god of war, whose violent nature was celebrated

by the Temple of Mars Ultor in the Forum Augustum, is disarmed by the elegiac poet-narrator

before he is able to contribute to the poem (Bellice, depositis clipeo paulisper et hasta,/Mars,

ades et nitidas casside solve comas. – “Warlike Mars, put down your shield and spear for a little

while and release your shining hair from its helmet.” Fast. 3.1-2). Within the Matronalia

passage, too, there is Mars’ fundamental misunderstanding about the purpose and aetiology of

the women’s festival, as well as his futile attempts to redefine that festival in terms of himself.

Mars appears somewhat arrogant and deluded; he even goes so far as to claim that Ilia was

“happily” made a mother by him (vel quod erat de me feliciter Ilia mater – Fast. 3.233), when

readers know from sources such as Ennius (Ann. 35-50), Livy (1.4.2-3), and Ovid’s Amores (3.6)

that Ilia was traumatically raped.

In other words, the Hersilia passage in Ovid’s Fasti (3.201-232), embedded as it is within

Mars’ larger narrative, serves to highlight Mars’ futile attempt at controlling history, and it

therefore should not be read as a reverent representation of Roman religion. This defies

Salzman’s easy distinction between the two poems. Though Hersilia is characterized very

differently in the two poems, and though the poems differ dramatically in meter and subject

matter, in both works Hersilia performs a similar function: she becomes a representative of the

Ovidian poetic voice and its defiance of the social norms established by the men who created

history, as well as a celebration of that poetic voice’s power to grant immortality.

309 Hinds 1992a and b; Barchiesi 1997.

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CHAPTER IV

CARMENTIS: ELEGY, THE FOUNDATIONS OF ROME, AND POETIC IMMORTALITY

Carmentis, an ancient Roman goddess who was identified in literary sources as the

mother of Evander, had a two-day festival in her honor, a Porta and a flamen in her name (the

Porta Carmentalis and flamen Carmentalis), and appearances in various literary works, including

those of Livy, Vergil, and Ovid. And yet, not only is she absent from surviving Augustan

iconography entirely, but the literary sources in which she appears, with the exception of Ovid,

give her minimal roles, and her various social functions – prophetess, goddess of childbirth,

mother of one of Rome’s founders – were, at Ovid’s time, filled by other, more prominent

figures, namely, the Sibyl, Juno Lucina (or Ilithyia), and Venus. Thus the prominence that Ovid

grants her in the Fasti, in lengthy passages (1.461-586, 1.617-636, and 6.531-550) and in

unprecedented circumstances, namely the story of the Roman matrons’ use of abortion as

political protest and in the arrival of Ino/Mater Matuta in Rome, is surprising enough to warrant

investigation.

An exploration of the ways in which Ovid’s depictions of Carmentis depart from the

norm and a consideration of the literary and social contexts of these depictions reveal that Ovid’s

manipulation of this character builds on and makes even more explicit the poetic and political

significance of Romulus and Hersilia. Poetically, Ovid fashions Carmentis as a representative of

his own poetry’s concerns in contrast to epic and historical works, and, further, he uses the

Carmentis-narrative to privilege the creative (and destructive) power of his work. By doing so,

Ovid also questions some of the most important political ideologies of his day. The Carmentis

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narrative works against the ostensible purpose of the poem (to sing of the “altars” and “days” of

Caesar – Caesaris arma canant alii: nos Caesaris aras,/et quoscumque sacris addidit ille dies:

Fast. 1.13-14); it draws attention away from the monuments and deities associated with the

Caesars, disparages the Augustan moral legislation, and even questions the mechanics of

imperial apotheosis.

Carmentis in Roman Religion and Literature: Non-Ovidian Perspectives

Carmentis was an ancient Roman goddess who had left her mark on Roman religion long

before Ovid’s time. The Porta Carmentalis and altar of Carmentis were ancient landmarks in the

region of the Capitoline and Forum Boarium.310 The Porta is mentioned by several authors,

including Vergil (at A. 8.338). Livy’s story of the 306 Fabii fighting against the Veii (2.48-50)

emphasizes the unluckiness of the one arch of the Carmental gate (infelici via, dextro iano portae

Carmentalis), though it does not create an aetiological connection between the demise of the

heroic Fabii and the gate’s bad reputation, as Ovid’s version does:

Carmentis portae dextro est via proxima Iano:

ire per hanc noli, quisquis es; omen habet.

illa fama refert Fabios exisse trecentos:

porta vacat culpa, sed tamen omen habet.

(F. 2.201-204)

310 Richardson 1992: 72 on the altar of Carmentis: “The shrine was at the foot of the Capitoline at the Porta

Carmentalis of the Servian walls, which took its name from her...It is variously called a fanum (Solinus 1.13; A.

Gellius 18.7.2), a sacellum (Ovid, Fast. 1.629), ara (Vergil, Aen. 8.337), and arae (Varro, ap. Gell. 16.16.4). The

last is probably most accurate. Of the Porta Carmentalis he states (1992:301) that it was a double gate, “through

which the Vicus Iugarius passed, dividing into two branches just before reaching the gate, one branch curving to the

right around the base of the Capitoline Hill and going through the Forum Holitarium, the other entering the Forum

Boarium...” The two arches were labeled the Porta Scelerata and (probably) the Porta Triumphalis, “by which as a

special honor the cortege of Augustus departed.” Unfortunately, “the exact location of the gate is elusive.”

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The nearest way is by the right-hand arch of Carmentis’ gate:311 do not go through this,

whoever you are: it holds bad luck. The story goes that through it the three hundred Fabii

went out: the gate is free from blame, but nevertheless it holds bad luck.

Despite the bad luck associated with the “right-hand” arch of the Porta (to judge by Ovid,

we are to take this as the one that is on the right side when one is leaving the city), this story

suggests that the Porta was an important point of ingress and egress near the Capitoline, and that

it had existed as such since before 477 B.C., the date of the ambush described in the following

lines (2.205-242) and in Livy’s version of the same episode.312

According to Roman inscriptions and calendars, Carmentis was a goddess honored by

one of the flamines, the fifteen priests who served a particular god (of which we only know

twelve or – if we do not agree with Latte’s exclusion of the flamen Portunalis – thirteen).313 The

ancient nature of these flamines is borne out by the fact that we know very little about many of

the gods from whom they take their names. Some – like the Dialis, the Martialis, the Quirinalis,

the Cerialis, the Volcanalis, the Floralis, and, indeed, the Carmentalis, are easy enough to

recognize, but the Volturnalis, the Palatualis, the Furrinalis, the Falacer, and the Pomonalis are

a bit more obscure.314 Only three of the deities who have flamines – Falacer, Pomona, and Flora

311 Translation of this line – with its use of Iano – by Frazer 1959: 73; the rest of the translation is mine.

312 2.48-50. See Appendix II.4b. For the purposes of economy, the lengthy description of the battle is not

included in the appendix. It is noteworthy, however, that both Livy and Ovid give detailed accounts of the battle

(Ovid’s is not as detailed as Livy’s, but it is very detailed compared to the usual space he accords battle scenes),

both focus on the unluckiness of the gate of Carmentis, and both emphasize the role of the last remaining member of

the Fabius family in Rome’s future by connecting him to the hero of the Second Punic War, Fabius Maximus: Ovid

calls out the great Roman hero by name at line 241 (Maxime), while Livy merely alludes to him with the word

maximum (see the last line of section 50).

313 Dumezil 1966: 104.

314 Pomona appears in Ovid’s Metamorphoses (14.622-771), but we know relatively little about her actual role

in Roman religion. Myers 2009: 163-164 notes that Pomona was a goddess of fruit trees (as her actions in the

Metamorphoses suggest), and that “after Ennius, Ovid’s passage is Pomona’s earliest appearance in any known

literary sources.”

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– do not appear on the ferial calendar, which was established “some time around 500,”315

suggesting that Carmentis was both an ancient and a firmly established member of the Roman

religious pantheon.316

Carmentis also had a major festival in her honor: the two-day Carmentalia (January 11th

and 15th). The link between “Carmentis” and the Carmentalia is established before Ovid, most

notably by Varro: Carmentalia nominantur quod sacra tum et feriae Carmentis – “They are

called the “Carmentalia, because the rites and festivals of Carmentis are at that time,” De Lingua

Latina 6.12). Little primary evidence remains to us regarding the rituals involved in the

Carmentalia; Ovid’s remark at that it is not lawful to bring leather into Carmentis’ shrine

(scortea non illi fas est inferre sacello, Fast. 1.629) is one of the only things we know about the

315 Dumezil 1966: 104; Latte suggests (translated by Dumezil 1966: 105) that the absence of these three deities

suggests that they are more ancient than the ferial calendar; but this does not seem to me to be a necessary

conclusion.

316 Even still she stands out a bit from the other divinities of the minor flamens (which exclude, of course, the

Dialis, the Martialis, and the Quirinus, who honor major gods). The other minor divinities, at least the ones “about

whom we know something useful,” can be grouped into similar functions: they either involve matters rural and

agrarian (Ceres, Flora, Pomona, perhaps Volcanus) or are derived from location, be it a specific place (e.g. Palatua)

or a type of place (e.g. Portunus). Though we do not have enough information about these ancient deities put too

much weight on our assumptions, Carmentis does seem to stand alone: she does not fit into the easy groupings of the

other deities of the flamines, and she is not one of the three major gods. A view among older scholars such as

Frazer (see, e.g. 1959: 34) and Wissowa (1971: 219-220) connects Carmentis with the Camenae, the water nymphs,

one of whom was invoked by Livius Andronicus at the beginning of his Latin translation of the Odyssey. Though

Bailey 1932: 42 does not identify Carmentis as one of the Camenae, as Frazer does, he does explain how the two

figures are easily conflated: “Some spring-deities, known by special names, came to have great notoriety and

developed characteristics beyond their original nature. Such were Iuturna, the famous spring in the Forum, between

the atrium of Vesta and the temple of Castor and Pollux, whose spirit became in legend the sister of the Rutulian

Turnus; or Egeria, the spring in the grove of Aricia, afterwards the nymph who was ‘guide, philosopher and friend’

to Numa. Such again were the Camenae, destined to become the ‘Muses’ of Rome, who also had their sacred

springs in a grove outside the porta Capena, and Carmenta, once a spring-goddess and afterwards the helper of

women in childbirth.” Waszink 1956 suggests that the Camenae became associated with Carmentis on account of

the similarities of their names and, perhaps, of their natures, though the view of Carmentis as a water nymph,

espoused by Wissowa and others, appears to have arisen only from the fact that Vergil refers to Carmentis as

nympha, and therefore cannot be considered firmly established. He even goes so far as to suggest that Carmentis –

already associated with poetry at an early stage of Roman religion –would have been an appropriate choice to

replace Musa (and the plural Carmentes to replace Musae) in Livius Andronicus’ translation of the Odyssey. He

argues that Andronicus preferred Camenae “on account of their unlimited number” that therefore made them more

likely candidates to replace the nine Greek Muses (Waszink 1956: 148).

156

mechanics of the festival. As for why Carmentis was celebrated, the consensus that can be

gleaned from our various literary sources (most of which are given in Appendix III.B) is that

Carmentis was a goddess of childbirth prophecy.

Both Ovid (at Fast. 1.627 ff.) and Plutarch (Roman Questions 278 b-c) attribute the

institution of the Carmentalia to Carmentis’ function as a goddess of childbirth, though they both

mention her role as a goddess of prophecy, as well. Ovid’s version will be explored in more

detail below. Plutarch, meanwhile, claims to have drawn from several different sources, though

the similarity of his story about the Roman matrons’ protest to Ovid’s version of the same story

(discussed below) suggests that he is drawing largely on the Fasti:

‘διὰ τί τὸ τῆς Καρμέντης ἱερὸν ἐξ ἀρχῆς δοκοῦσιν αἱ μητέρες ἱδρύσασθαι καὶ νῦν

μάλιστα σέβονται;᾽’ λέγεται γάρ τις λόγος, ὡς ἐκωλύθησαν ὑπὸ τῆς βουλῆς αἱ γυναῖκες

ὀχήμασι χρῆσθαι ζευκτοῖς: συνέθεντο οὖν ἀλλήλαις μὴ κυΐσκεσθαι μηδὲ τίκτειν,

ἀμυνόμεναι τοὺς ἄνδρας, ἄχρι οὗ μετέγνωσαν καὶ συνεχώρησαν αὐταῖς: γενομένων δὲ

παίδων, εὐτεκνοῦσαι καὶ πολυτεκνοῦσαι τὸ τῆς Καρμέντης ἱερὸν ἱδρύσαντο. τὴν δὲ

Καρμένταν οἱ μὲν Εὐάνδρου μητέρα λέγουσιν οὖσαν ἐλθεῖν εἰς Ἰταλίαν ὀνομαζομένην

Θέμιν, ὡς δ᾽ ἔνιοι, Νικοστράτην ἐμμέτρους δὲ χρησμοὺς ᾁδουσαν ὑπὸ τῶν Λατίνων

Καρμένταν ὀνομάζεσθαι: τὰ γὰρ ἔπη ‘κάρμινα’ καλοῦσιν. οἱ δὲ Μοῖραν ἡγοῦνται τὴν

Καρμένταν εἶναι καὶ διὰ τοῦτο θύειν αὐτῇ τὰς μητέρας. ἔστι δὲ τοῦ ὀνόματος τὸ ἔτυμον

‘ἑστερημένη νοῦ’ διὰ τὰς θεοφορήσεις. ὅθεν οὐ τὰ κάρμινα τῇ Καρμέντῃ τοὔνομα

παρέσχεν, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον ἀπ᾽ ἐκείνης ἐκλήθη διὰ τὸ τοὺς χρησμοὺς ἐν ἔπεσι καὶ μέτροις

ἐνθουσιῶσαν ᾁδειν. (278b-c)

Why are the matrons considered to have founded the temple of Carmenta in the

beginning and why do they particularly honor it now? A certain story is told, that the

women were hindered by the Senate from using yoked vehicles: therefore they conspired

with each other not to get pregnant nor to bear, taking their revenge on the men, until

they changed their minds and agreed with them: and when the children were born, the

women, having borne many children well, founded the temple of Carmenta. And some

say that Carmenta, being the mother of Evander, came into Italy, named Themis, but as

others say, Nikostrate, and she was called Carmenta by the Latins because she sang

prophecies in meter: for they call verses carmina. But others say that Carmenta is a Fate

(Moira), and for this reason the matrons sacrifice to her. But the truth of the name (the

etymology) is “bereft of mind” because of her possession by the god. Wherefore

carmina did not provide the name for Carmenta, but rather they are called thus from her,

because, when she was inspired, she sang prophecies in verse and in meter.

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Other sources, too, focus on Carmentis/Carmenta as a goddess of childbirth,317 though in

this capacity she generally appears as multiple goddesses, whether referred to as Carmentes

(Aug. C.D. 4.11: in deabus illis quae fata nascentibus canunt et vocantur Carmentes) or by

means of “two opposing cultic cognomina, which several authors have interpreted as two

additional Carmentes, her companions.”318 These companions are sometimes named Postverta

and Prorsa,319 at other times (as in Ovid’s Fasti) Postverta and Porrima,320 and at still others

Postvorta and Antevorta.321 The differences in nomenclature may indeed be related to different

interpretations of the function of these Carmentes: Varro’s adjectives refer to “the two extreme

positions in which the child about to be born may present itself: favorably, with the head

foremost, or unfavorably, with the feet foremost.”322 On the other hand, Ovid (Fast. 1.635-636),

Servius, and Macrobius associate these names not with aspects of childbirth but with features of

prophecy. So Servius on Aeneid 8.336:

matris [Evandris], quae Nicostrate dicta est, sed ideo Carmentis appellata a suis, quod

divinatione fata caneret: nam antique vates carmentes dicebantur, unde etiam librarios qui

eorum dicta perscriberent, carmentarios nuncupatos. alii huius comites Porrimam et

Postvertam tradunt, quia vatibus et praeterita et futura sunt nota.

The mother of Evander, who was called Nicostrate, but is called Carmentis by her own

people, because she sang the fates through divination: for in ancient times prophets were

called “carmentes,” whence the librarians who wrote their sayings are called

317 The variant spellings (Carmentis or Carmenta) are interchangeable, although Carmenta is preferred by Greek

authors, Carmentis by Latin authors.

318 Dumezil 1966: 393.

319 Varro in Aulus Gellius 16.16.4. Appendix III.B.

320 Ovid Fast. 1.633, Servius on A. 8.366.

321 Macrobius 1.7.20.

322 Dumezil 1966: 393. See also Green 2004: 289-290. Richardson 1992: 72 suggests, drawing from Varro,

that there were two altars to the two Carmentes, in order “to avert the danger of having a child born feet first.”

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Carmentarii. Others say that her companions are Porrima and Postverta, because both

the past and the future are known to the prophetesses.323

According to these sources, Carmentis was associated with both childbirth and prophecy.

Perhaps her most prominent role in Latin literature, however, is as the mother of Evander, the

colonist who established a Roman settlement called Pallanteum before the arrival of Aeneas.

This prominence may have been a recent innovation, however, as Evander does not become a

significant figure – at least in our extant sources - until Livy and Vergil.324 Indeed, Papaioannou

argues that “Evander’s conspicuous role in the events of the early days of Rome constitutes a

significant Vergilian innovation and major turning point in Roman legendary tradition,”325 a

move that she argues is due to Vergil’s attempt to underscore “the seminal contribution of

Greece to the…origins of Rome.”326 Evander did appear in a smaller role in earlier Latin

literature, perhaps as early as the 3rd century BCE. To judge by Dionysius (D.H. 1.31, 1.79.4

ff.), who mentions Fabius Pictor and other early historians as sources, the fundamentals of the

Evander story were already well established by the third century BCE.327 Servius also quotes

323 Bettini 1991 (trans. Van Sickle) comments on the aspect of these names that seems strange to us, namely, the

fact that Antevorta/Porrima sees the past (even though ante means “before”, i.e. spatially “in front of” and porro

means “forward”) and Postverta sees the future (even though post means spatially “behind”). This strange feature,

which is common to Servius’, Ovid’s, and Macrobius’ uses of these adjectives (in Macrobius on Janus, that is), is

explained (according to Bettini) by the priority given to the importance of the past over the future (160-166), as well

as by the fact that the past is easy to see (and therefore, before one), while the future must be sought through

difficult means (as if turning around to look behind you) – 154. Green 2004: 290 calls Ovid’s use of porro to mean

“in the past” unique; Bettini 1991: 155 explains that Ovid chooses Porrima rather than the Antevorta of Macrobius

because Antevorta, as a cretic, was unsuitable for Ovid’s meter.

324 Papaioannou 2003: 680-702.

325 Papaioannou 2003: 681.

326 Papaioannou 2003: 680.

327 See Appendix III.B

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Varro on the topic of Evander, though we cannot be sure where on the long timeline of Varro’s

life this quotation falls, nor what this quotation means for Evander’s prominence at the time:

Euander Arcas fuit, nepos Pallantis, regis Arcadiae. hic patrem suum occidit, suadente

matre Nicostrata, quae etiam Carmentis dicta est, quia carminibus vaticinabatur. alii

ipsam Nicostratam, matrem Euandri, cum esset centum decem annorum, a filio

peremptam tradunt. constat autem Arcadas plurimum vixisse, in tantum, ut quidam usque

ad trecentos annos vivendo pervenerint. ipse autem Euander, dimissa provincia sua exilio,

non sponte, conpulsus venit ad Italiam et pulsis Aboriginibus tenuit loca, in quibus nunc

Roma est, et modicum oppidum fundavit in monte Palatino, sicut ait Varro “nonne

Arcades exules confugerunt in Palatium, duce Euandro?”

(Servius on A. 8.51)

Evander was an Arcadian, grandson of Pallas, king of Arcadia. He killed his father, with

his mother Nicostrata urging him on, who is also called Carmentis, because she used to

give prophecies in verse. Others say that that this very Nicostrata, the mother of Evander,

was killed by her son, when she was a hundred years old. Nevertheless it is agreed that

the Arcadians lived for a long time, so long, that some came all the way to three hundred

years in their life. Moreover Evander himself, with his own province lost by exile, not by

choice, was compelled to come to Italy and, when the Aborigines were expelled, took

hold of the places, in which now Rome lies, and he founded a small town on the Palatine

mountain, just as Varro says, “Didn’t Arcadian exiles flee to the Palatine, with Evander

as their leader?”328

Evander and Carmentis appear in Strabo (5.3.3), as well.329 But it is truly Livy and Vergil who

elevate Evander to a major character in Roman literature. Livy devotes a fair amount of space to

Evander, and in a new context at that: his role in the Hercules and Cacus story and his reputation

as a man of letters (1.5-7), the latter of which is a feature of Evander’s legend that is actually

credited to Carmentis in later authors such as Hyginus and Isidore.330 In Livy’s lengthy

discussion, Carmentis is mentioned briefly twice, once in the background about Evander and

once when Evander tells Hercules about his mother’s prophecy:

328 Translation mine.

329 See Appendix III.B.

330 See Appendix III.B.

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Euander tum ea, profugus ex Peloponneso, auctoritate magis quam imperio regebat loca,

uenerabilis uir miraculo litterarum, rei nouae inter rudes artium homines, uenerabilior

diuinitate credita Carmentae matris, quam fatiloquam ante Sibyllae in Italiam aduentum

miratae eae gentes fuerant (1.7.8).

Then Evander, exiled from the Peloponnese, was ruling those places with authority more

than legitimate command, a man venerated for the miracle of letters, a new thing among

men crude in the arts, a man even more venerated because of the believed divinity of his

mother Carmenta, whom those people honored as a prophetess before the coming of the

Sibyl into Italy.331

The location of Evander’s settlement on the Palatine – echoed by Varro and Vergil – is brought

to the fore here, as is Evander’s status as exile. Carmentis’ prophetic powers are positioned

climactically, closing out the passage, and reappear later when Evander greets Hercules: “"te

mihi mater, veridica interpres deum, aucturum caelestium numerum cecinit...” (“My mother, the

truth-saying interpreter of the gods, sang to me that you would increase the number of heavenly

beings...” Livy 1.7.10).

In the Augustan age, however, Carmentis’ role was significantly diminished:

…it is striking that for Augustus Carmentis plays no role, nor do her two sanctuaries

appear in the restoration list in the Res Gestae, and it is very questionable, whether one can

describe the Carmentalia in general as “great and ancient”…This goes also for the negative

archaeological findings: no sanctuaries of Carmentis have been found, though her ara is possibly

identified with an altar near the temple of Mater Matuta in the Forum Holitorium.332

In Ovid’s time, it seems, this ancient goddess had faded into the background. Indeed, when

Ovid, in the introduction to the Carmentalia, asks for the goddess’ help, lest her honor be lacking

(ne tuus erret honor, Fasti 1.468), this caveat is “as entitled as it is pointed.”333

331 Translation from Roberts 1912.

332 Schmitzer 2007: 129. Translation mine.

333 Schmitzer 2007: 129. Translation mine.

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Even Vergil’s epic, where Evander’s role in Book 8, as an advisor and ally to Aeneas, is

quite prominent, his mother Carmentis plays a small role:

‘me pulsum patria pelagique extrema sequentem

Fortuna omnipotens et ineluctabile fatum

his posuere locis, matrisque egere tremenda

Carmentis nymphae monita et deus auctor Apollo.’

Vix ea dicta, dehinc progressus monstrat et aram

et Carmentalem Romani nomine portam

quam memorant, nymphae priscum Carmentis honorem,

uatis fatidicae, cecinit quae prima futuros

Aeneadas magnos et nobile Pallanteum.

(Aeneid 8.333-341)

‘Omnipotent Fortune and inescapable fate put me in these places, expelled from my

fatherland and pursuing the ends of the sea; the terrible warnings of my mother, the

nymph Carmentis, and the founder god Apollo, drove me here.’ These things had just

been said, when having progressed from this place he shows both the altar and the gate

which the Romans call “Carmental” by name, an ancient honor to the nymph Carmentis,

the fate-saying priestess, who was the first to sing of the great descendants of Aeneas to

come and of noble Pallanteum.

Here, too, her role as mother of Evander and prophetess defines her, though Vergil adds some

prestige by connecting her to the Porta Carmentalis, giving her a role in the all-important saga of

Aeneas, and making her the prima prophetess, seemingly privileging her over the Sibyl. Yet

despite the word prima, she is not granted any direct speech, unlike the Sibyl, whose prophecies

play such a large role in the shape of the narrative, especially in Book 6.334

Ovid’s representation of Carmentis contains fundamental similarities to previous

representations of Carmentis as prophetess, mother of Evander, and goddess of childbirth, but it

also presents striking differences with regard to how these functions play out. The passages in

which Carmentis appears are given in full in Appendix III.A, and will be discussed in detail as

334 Nor is the chronology of the episode – Vergil’s Evander is an old man and his mother apparently long out of

the picture – enough to explain the omission of Carmentis’ voice, as the complex narrative of the poem as a whole

certainly allows for at least reported direct speech.

162

this chapter progresses. For now, a brief summary: the entry for January 11th (Fast. 1.461-585)

discusses Evander and Carmentis’ arrival in Italy (1.469-542), which includes two lengthy direct

speeches by Carmentis herself, the first one consolatory (1.479-496) and the second one

prophetic (1.509-536). It then continues into Ovid’s rendition of the Hercules and Cacus story

(Fast. 1.543-586), which ends when Carmentis prophesies Hercules’ eventual apotheosis and

then becomes a goddess herself (583-586). The second entry, for January 15th (Fast. 1.617-636),

tells of the Roman matrons’ use of abortion as a form of protest in order to restore their right to

ride in carpenta and the subsequent establishment of a festival in honor of Carmentis. The third

passage (Fast. 6.529-550) occurs in the entry for the Matralia, which details Ino’s arrival in Italy

and transformation into the Roman goddess Mater Matuta. Here, Carmentis plays the role of

host to the exiled Greek woman and prophesies her godhood.

As an ancient and deeply Roman goddess despite her repeatedly advertised Arcadian

origins, and one with manifold powers and manifestations in the texts in which we encounter her,

Carmentis proves to be a worthy subject of Ovid’s experimentation. Ovid puts her in two

unprecedented contexts: the story of the Roman matrons’ use of abortion as a form of protest and

the story of Ino’s metamorphosis into Mater Matuta. Moreover, it is only in Ovid’s calendar

poem that Carmentis gets so much detailed attention and that we hear directly the voice of

Vergil’s nymph/Ovid’s goddess famed for her prophetic powers, so that she becomes not just a

historical and religious footnote but a fully-fledged literary character. Though these passages

span the entire work and are separated by many other, varied episodes, reading them together as

a sort of “narrative” about Carmentis brings to light Ovid’s consistent use of this character as a

means to comment on the poetic and political issues of his time.

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Carmentis: Ovidian Poetry Personified

1. Carmentis and Ovidian Lament: Reinventing the Carmentalia I

Ovid announces Carmentis’ explicit engagement with poetic concerns early in the first

passage, when he seeks the “causes” and “custom” of “these rites”(i.e. the Carmentalia):

unde petam causas horum moremque sacrorum?

deriget in medio quis mea vela freto?

ipsa mone, quae nomen habes a carmine ductum,

propositoque fave, ne tuus erret honor.

(Fast. 1.465-468)

Whence should I seek the causes and custom of these rites? Who will direct my

sails in the middle of the ocean? You yourself advise, who have a name drawn from

“poem,” and favor my undertaking, lest your honor be lacking.

Carmentis’ name is often etymologized as having come from the Latin word carmen, but

generally with an emphasis on the meaning “prophecy” rather than “poem.” See, for example,

Servius on Aeneid 8.51 – quae etiam Carmentis dicta est, quia carminibus uaticinabatur (“who

is also called Carmentis, because she used to prophecy by means of verse”) and 8.336 – quod

diuinatione fata caneret (“because she sang the fates through divination”). Vergil alludes to this

etymology at A. 8.339-341: nymphae priscum Carmentis honorem,/uatis fatidicae, cecinit quae

prima futuros/Aeneadas (“an ancient honor for the nymph Carmentis, the fate-saying prophetess,

who first sang of the future descendants of Aeneas...”). Cecinit here, the past tense of cano, is an

indirect allusion to carmen (“poem”) similar to the one given by Servius at 8.336.335 And here,

335 O’Hara 1996: 70. Plutarch gives an unusual derivation of Carmentis in his Roman Questions: ἔστι δὲ τοῦ

ὀνόματος τὸ ἔτυμον ‘ἑστερημένη νοῦ’ διὰ τὰς θεοφορήσεις. ὅθεν οὐ τὰ κάρμινα τῇ Καρμέντῃ τοὔνομα παρέσχεν,

ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον ἀπ᾽ ἐκείνης ἐκλήθη διὰ τὸ τοὺς χρησμοὺς ἐν ἔπεσι καὶ μέτροις ἐνθουσιῶσαν ᾁδειν. (Roman

Questions, 278 c) – “But the truth of the name (the etymology) is “bereft of mind” because of her possession by the

god. Wherefore carmina did not provide the name for Carmenta, but rather they are called thus from her, because,

when she was inspired, she sang prophecies in verse and in meter.” And in Romulus he digs for a deeper etymology:

καὶ τοῦτο μὲν ὁμολογεῖται: τὴν δὲ Καρμένταν ἔνιοι πιθανώτερον ἀφερμηνεύουσιν οἷον ἐστερημένην νοῦ διὰ τὰς ἐν

τοῖς ἐνθουσιασμοῖς παραφροσύνας. τὸ μὲν γὰρ στέρεσθαι καρῆρε, μέντεμ δὲ τὸν νοῦν ὀνομάζουσι. (Romulus 21.2)

– “And this is generally agreed upon: but some more faithfully interpret “Carmenta” as “bereft of mind” because of

164

too, it is tied directly to Carmentis’ ability to foresee the future. Carmen does seem originally to

have referred to ritual or magical metrical utterances before acquiring “literary reference.”336

Green suggests that Ovid is playing with this religious, prophetic meaning.337 Indeed, Ovid’s

initial mone (Fast. 1.467) suggests that carmine has this prophetic sense (since it is similar to the

prophetic monita with which, for example, Carmentis counseled Evander according to Vergil’s

Aeneid 8.336).338 We have to remember the context, however. Not only has Ovid just asked for

someone to help guide his poem (1.465-466), but what is about to occur is information about the

past – and a creative, literary interpretation of this information - rather than the future. Ovid

plays here with both religious and poetic meanings, which are drawn from the similarly divine

inspiration of prophets and poets. Yet his explicit etymologizing of Carmentis’s name from the

poetic carmen (i.e. “Carmentis, help me sing my poem, since you have your name drawn from

poetry”) is different from what we have seen in our other sources.

her derangements when in the throes of inspiration. For they call “to be bereft” carere, and they call “the mind”

mentem.” Beyond the surprising fact that Plutarch claims that carmina are named after Carmentis, and not

Carmentis after carmina (more explicitly in the first passage than in the second), in both passages he suggests that

both Carmentis and carmen are derived from carens mente/mentis (Latin for the Greek ἑστερημένη νοῦ). This

derivation is similar to one that Varro promotes between vates and a vi mentis (as recorded in Isidore Orig. 8.7.3).

A. Hardie 2005 claims that the derivation of carmen from carens mente/mentis is not only more linguistically

accurate than the derivation from carmen but also is more frequent material for etymological wordplay. The

connection between mens and carmen is given elsewhere in Ovid’s poetry, for example at Tristia 4.1.29-30: vis me

tenet ipsa sacrorum/et carmen demens carmine laesus amo. We see such wordplay in the Fasti passage, as well –

quae simul aetherios animo conceperat ignes,/ore dabat pleno carmina vera dei (Fasti 1.473-474). The association

of mens with animus is a long-standing one (Hardie 2005: 74-5); though somewhat farther removed from the explicit

connection between mens and carmen, the use of animo, a cognate of mens – a cognate whose component letters are

closer to the component letters of carmina – suggests that the connection between carmen and mens is being

referred to here.

336 A. Hardie 2005: 71. Bailey 1932: 12-13, 73: evidence from Roman religion shows that the word began as a

denotation of the verses on curse tablets and later became a reference to prayers (like the prayer of the Arval

Brethren) long before our first extant examples of Roman poetry.

337 Green 2004: 215 – “the etymology of Carmentis from her status as prophetess is very popular; most

commonly, as here, from carmen (‘prophetic utterance’).”

338 Newman 1967: 98 comments that the use of praemoneo in Tibullus 2.5 (lines 113-116) “indicates that the

notion of ‘soothsayer’ was not entirely separate from that of ‘poet’ in vates,” in a poem that begins with language

that also “looks uncompromisingly vatic.”

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The reader is set up for this alignment of Carmentis with Ovid’s poem by Fast. 1.466,

which utilizes the trope of poetry as a ship (deriget in medio quis mea vela freto – “Who will

direct my sails in the middle of the sea?”). The ship metaphor, a well-established literary

device,339 is an important trope in the Fasti, where it receives prominent placement (Fast. 1.4 –

timidae derige navis iter); it is even more appropriate in the Carmentis passage, since Carmentis

is the guider of a literal ship (at Fast. 1.499-500). Ovid plays with the line between literal and

metaphorical ship in his Tristia, too, where poetry, his own life, and the ship that carried him into

exile (as well as the ship that he hopes will carry him back to Rome) are all referred to with

similar language.340 Green even suggests that in the prologue of Book 1 to the Fasti, which was

most likely written by Ovid in exile,341 the instruction to Caesar Germanicus: timidae derige

navis iter (“direct the journey of my anxious ship”) can just as easily be read as a request that

Germanicus bring Ovid back from exile as a request for support of his poetic project.342 Fasti

1.466, then, sets up the lines that follow in the way that it prepares the reader to view Carmentis

as a figure who is intimately connected with Ovid’s poetic concerns.

339 Green 2004: 32. The image of a poem as a ship seems to be connected to the literary metaphor of different

types of poetry as different types of water, the most salient example of which is, of course, Callimachus’ Hymn 2,

where his own slim poetry is compared to a clear stream in opposition to the muddy river of epic (lines 105-112).

Latin poets, as concerned with Alexandrian poetics as they were, adopted this water-as-poetry imagery as their own

and exploited it in many ways. For example, the Achelous episode of Book 8 of Ovid’s Metamorphoses has been

argued to be a literary manifestation – on a macro scale - of Callimachus’ water metaphor, for Theseus and his

companions, blocked by the flooding waters of the river Achelous, are told Callimachean stories (such as that of

Erysichthon and Baucis and Philemon) to pass the time until the waters subside (Barchiesi 2005).

340 Particularly in Tristia Book 1, which he claims was written while he was actually journeying (largely by

boat) to Tomis (Tr. 1.10.1-8). This allows for conflation between his poetry-as-ship and his life-as-ship (see, e.g. Tr.

1.1.91, 1.2.17-18, 1.2.88-89, 1.5.46-47, 1.11.41-44). In Tristia 2, however, the poetry-as-ship metaphor is expressed

most explicitly: ne tamen omne meum credas opus esse remissum,/saepe dedi nostrae grandia vela rati (Tr. 2.47-48)

– “Nevertheless lest you think all of my work to be trivial, often I have given grand sails to my ship.”

341 See also Fantham 2005, Herbert-Brown 1994.

342 Green 2004: 42-4.

166

In the next couplet, however, Ovid seems to return to the traditional description of

Carmentis’ prophetic prowess. Alluding to Livy’s assertion that Evander was uenerabilior

diuinitate credita Carmentae matris – “more venerated because of the believed divinity of his

mother Carmenta” (1.7) – Ovid claims of Evander: nobilior sacrae sanguine matris erat; quae

simul aetherios animo conceperat ignes,/ore dabat pleno carmina vera dei (“he was more noble

because of the blood of his sacred mother, who when she had received the heavenly fires in her

spirit, used to produce true songs with a mouth full of the god” Fast. 1.473-474). In Livy’s

version, Carmentis’ honor was due to a divinity that was merely “believed” or “supposed”; in

Ovid’s version, the justification for Carmentis’ place of honor is her god-inspired “true songs.”

Yet Carmentis’ first carmen (1.479-496) is more reminiscent of an excerpt from Ovid’s own

elegiac exile poetry:

cui genetrix flenti 'fortuna viriliter' inquit

'(siste, precor, lacrimas) ista ferenda tibi est. 480

sic erat in fatis, nec te tua culpa fugavit,

sed deus: offenso pulsus es urbe deo.

non meriti poenam pateris, sed numinis iram:

est aliquid magnis crimen abesse malis.

conscia mens ut cuique sua est, ita concipit intra 485

pectora pro facto spemque metumque suo.

nec tamen ut primus maere mala talia passus:

obruit ingentes ista procella viros.

passus idem est Tyriis qui quondam pulsus ab oris

Cadmus in Aonia constitit exul humo; 490

passus idem Tydeus et idem Pagasaeus Iason,

et quos praeterea longa referre mora est.

omne solum forti patria est, ut piscibus aequor,

ut volucri vacuo quicquid in orbe patet.

nec fera tempestas toto tamen horret in anno: 495

et tibi, crede mihi, tempora veris erunt.'

(Fast. 1.479-496)

His mother said to him as he was crying, “This fortune (stop your tears, I pray) must be

borne by you like a man. Thus it was in the fates; nor did your fault exile you, but a god;

you were expelled from the city by an offended god. You are suffering not a deserved

punishment but the anger of a divinity: it is something for a crime to be absent from great

167

misfortunes. As each one’s mind is knowing, so it conceives within his breast both hope

and fear on behalf of his deed. And do not, having suffered such misfortunes, mourn

them as if you were the first: that storm has ruined great men. He suffered the same,

Cadmus, who once, having been expelled from Tyrian shores, stood as an exile on

Aonian soil: Tydeus suffered the same and Pagasean Jason the same, and those besides

whom it would be a long delay to relate. Every piece of ground is a fatherland to the

brave man, as the sea to fish, as whatever lies open in the empty world is to the bird. Nor

does the wild tempest bristle in the whole year: even for you (believe me) there will be

times of spring.”

Elaine Fantham notes the similarities between this passage and certain passages of Ovid’s exile

poetry: 1.482-486, in particular, uses “language...typical of Tristia 2 and many of the exile

poems,”343 where the anger of the god (numinis ira, Tr. 1.5.44 and 78) and the offended god

(offenso deo/offenso numine, Tr. 1.10.42; 5.10.52; Pont. 1.10.42) are what have caused Ovid’s

own exile. Further, Ovid denies that he has committed any crimen, or rather redefines his

supposed crimina as not being crimes at all: perdiderint cum me duo crimina, carmen et error

(Tr. 2.207), just as Carmentis claims that crimen was lacking in Evander’s own offense (Fast.

1.484). Green warns against reading too much into the similarities between Ovid’s and

Evander’s plights, especially since, while Ovid frequently admitted to some form of culpa (e.g at

Tr. 1.2.98 and 2.103-4), Carmentis suggests that there was no culpa on Evander’s part (Fasti

1.481), or, at least, that it was not his culpa that sent him into exile.344 Actually, there is no

indication in Ovid’s text as to the reason for Evander’s exile. His sorrow suggests that he has

arrived in Italy unwillingly, but we are given no indication of the reason. Likewise in Vergil we

are only told that Evander was pulsum (A. 8.333), not why Evander was pulsum. Is there

something sinister lurking here – perhaps a hint of the parricide story that is told by Servius (hic

343 Fantham 1992: 168.

344 Green 2004: 221.

168

patrem suum occidit, suadente matre Nicostrata – “he killed his father, with his mother

Nicostrate urging him on” – at A. 8.51)?345 Though Carmentis denies that Evander has

committed a crime, we must remember that, according to Servius, Evander killed his father

under Carmentis’ influence, and thus focalization through Carmentis might influence the

narrative.346 However we interpret the business about culpa, Carmentis is speaking/singing the

sort of “consolatory remarks” that would apply both to Evander and to Ovid’s exilic persona,347

regardless of whether Ovid was or was not in exile at the time.

As if to emphasize Carmentis’ alignment with Ovid’s larger poetic program, Carmentis

ends her poem/prophecy with the promise to Evander that there will be “times of spring”

(tempora veris, Fast. 1.496) for him. As Hinds has shown in his work on the exile poetry,

tempus/tempora is an important word for Ovid, one which he uses frequently for literary

commentary,348 especially commentary regarding his Fasti, which, of course, begins with the

word tempora (tempora cum causis Latium digesta per annum/lapsaque sub terras ortaque signa

canam, Fast. 1.1-2). Thus when Carmentis promises that there will be tempora in the future, she

is simultaneously reassuring Evander and, perhaps, referencing the very poem in which she has

been given life.

345 Servius’ version of things is not the norm; most authors give very little indication as to why Evander was

exiled, and some suggest it was something far less serious than parricide: in Dionysius, we are told merely that there

was a sedition among the Arcadians that led to their expedition to Italy: ὁ δὲ στόλος οὗτος οὐκ ἀπὸ τοῦ κοινοῦ τῆς

γνώμης ἐπέμφθη, ἀλλὰ στασιάσαντος τοῦ δήμου τὸ ἐλαττωθὲν μέρος ἑκούσιον ὑπεξῆλθεν. – “Nor was this

expedition sent out from common consent, but with the people having revolted, the defeated faction left willingly.”

(AR 1.31.2)

346 The omission of the less savory aspects of the story (if, indeed, they were aspects of which Ovid was aware)

may be a result of one of the tendencies in the Fasti that is pointed out by Parker 1997, namely, the tendency to

depict Italy as a place of redemption for Greek mythological figures with questionable pasts.

347 Though, as Green points out, these words proved true in Evander’s case but “ineffective” in Ovid’s (2004:

225).

348 Hinds 1999. See also P. Hardie 2002: 195.

169

To summarize, then, Carmentis is fashioned as a guide for Ovid’s (elegiac) poem (Fast.

1.466-468) before she embarks on a consolation of her son that has a decidedly elegiac flavor, as

it echoes Ovid’s laments from exile (wherever those laments fall chronologically in relation to

the Fasti). It is possible to read her, then, as a representative of “Ovid” himself.

2. Carmentis and Ovidian Erotic Elegy: Reinventing the Carmentalia II

The second Carmentalia episode (Fast. 1.617-636), which comes after the entry for the

13th of January, continues to redefine this goddess of childbirth in poetic terms. That there was

an interval between the first and the second day of the celebration of the Carmentalia seems to be

historically accurate, as both days are dedicated to Carmentis in the Fasti Praenestini,349 yet the

passage itself contains a few historically inaccurate surprises:

Respiciet Titan actas ubi tertius Idus,

fient Parrhasiae sacra relata deae.

nam prius Ausonias matres carpenta vehebant

(haec quoque ab Euandri dicta parente reor); 620

mox honor eripitur, matronaque destinat omnis

ingratos nulla prole novare viros,

neve daret partus, ictu temeraria caeco

visceribus crescens excutiebat onus.

corripuisse patres ausas immitia nuptas, 625

ius tamen exemptum restituisse ferunt;

binaque nunc pariter Tegeaeae sacra parenti

pro pueris fieri virginibusque iubent,

scortea non illi fas est inferre sacello,

ne violent puros exanimata focos. 630

siquis amas veteres ritus, adsiste precanti:

349 “Since the cult was very ancient, the two days might represent two originally separate celebrations by two

communities, on the Palatine and Quirinal, which later coalesced.” (Scullard 1981: 62). Fowler 1916: 290-291 says,

“…the Romans did not apparently consider the two Carmentalia to be two parts of the same festival, but two

different festivals, or they would not have tried to account as they did for the origin of the second day. It was said to

have been added by a victorious general who left Rome by the Porta Carmentalis to attack Fidenae, or by the

matrons…It has been suggested that the two days represent the so-called Roman and Sabine cities, like the two

bodies of Salii and Luperci. This guess is hardly an impossible one, but it is only a guess.”

170

nomina percipies non tibi nota prius.

Porrima placatur Postvertaque, sive sorores

sive fugae comites, Maenali diva, tuae:

altera quod porro fuerat cecinisse putatur, 635

altera venturum postmodo quicquid erat.

(Fast. 1.617-636)

When the third Titan looks back on the past Ides, the rites of the Parrhasian goddess will

be brought back. For before carpenta (carriages) used to carry Ausonian mothers (these I

think were also named after the parent of Evander); as soon as the honor is snatched

away, every matron decides not to renew her ungrateful husband with any children, and

lest she give birth, with a blind thrust she would rashly strike the growing burden from

her womb. They say that the senators castigated their wives for having dared such

cruelties, nevertheless the right that had been ripped away is restored; and now they order

that two festivals be held equally for the Tegaean parent on behalf of boys and girls. It is

not lawful to bring leather garments into that shrine, lest they, having been robbed of life,

violate the pure hearths. If any of you love ancient rites, stand by one who is praying to

her: you will perceive names not known to you before. Porrima is placated and

Postverta, whether sisters or companions of your flight, Maenalian goddess: the one is

thought to have sung what had been long before, the other, whatever was about to happen

thereafter.

Ovid yet again (as he did at Fast. 1.465-467) avoids Carmentis’ actual name, thereby

emphasizing the way he uses it for etymological word play in the next couple of lines. In these

two lines, Ovid connects the name Carmenta/Carmentis with carpenta, the word for two-

wheeled carriages, using immutatio (the changing of letters) to make a “far-fetched and

unparalleled” connection between the two.350 Green claims that Ovid’s admission that this is

only his opinion (reor, Fast. 1.620) softens the strange link he creates here;351 nevertheless, it is a

bold move on Ovid’s part to forge a spurious link between Carmentis and the story of the Roman

matrons’ abortive practices as an explanation for the official celebration that occurred on

350 Green 2004: 283. Scullard claims that this “ridiculous etymology” makes Ovid’s explanation of the date on

the calendar “most improbable”(1981: 62), while Bömer calls the etymological link “verdächtig” (1958: 52). Ovid

is playing on the artificiality of ancient etymologising, and exploiting its malleability in order to create a connection

that suits his purposes.

351 Green 2004: 283.

171

January 15th. Moreover, although Ovid’s story bears some resemblance to a historical event

found in Livy, the connection with abortion – and Carmentis - seems to be entirely his own

invention.

According to Livy 5.25.7-10, Roman matrons were given the right to travel in carpenta

and pilenta following Camillus’ capture of Veii in 396 BCE, when he fell short of fulfilling his

promise of spoils to Apollo and the Roman matrons made up the amount for him.352 The

reference to this honor on Aeneas’ shield in Aeneid 8 suggests that this historical event was a

memorable one: castae ducebant sacra per urbem/pilentis matres in mollibus (A. 8.665-666) –

“the chaste mothers on their soft carriages were performing rites through the city.”353

The repeal and reinstatement of this honor also appears in Livy, though there things play

out quite differently than they do in Ovid’s version. In Livy (34.1-8), the Lex Oppia of 215 BCE

352 Cum ea disceptatio, anceps senatui uisa, delegata ad pontifices esset, adhibito Camillo uisum collegio, quod

eius ante conceptum uotum Veientium fuisset et post uotum in potestatem populi Romani uenisset, eius partem

decimam Apollini sacram esse. Ita in aestimationem urbs agerque uenit. Pecunia ex aerario prompta et tribunis

militum consularibus, ut aurum ex ea coemerent negotium datum. Cuius cum copia non esset, matronae coetibus ad

eam rem consultandam habitis, communi decreto pollicitae tribunis militum aurum,et omnia ornamenta sua in

aerarium detulerunt. Grata ea res ut quae maxime senatui unquam fuit; honoremque ob eam munificentiam ferunt

matronis habitum ut pilento ad sacra ludosque, carpentis festo profestoque uterentur. Pondere ab singulis auri

accepto aestimatoque ut pecuniae soluerentur, crateram auream fieri placuit, quae donum Apollini Delphos

portaretur. (Livy 5.25.7-10) “As the senate considered the question a difficult one to decide, they referred it to the

pontiffs, and Camillus was invited to discuss it with them. They decided that of all that had belonged to the

Veientines before the vow was uttered and had subsequently passed into the power of Rome, a tenth part was sacred

to Apollo. Thus the city and territory came into the estimate. The money was drawn from the treasury, and the

consular tribunes were commissioned to purchase gold with it. As there was not a sufficient supply, the matrons,

after meeting to talk the matter over, made themselves by common consent responsible to the tribunes for the gold,

and sent all their trinkets to the treasury. The senate were in the highest degree grateful for this, and the tradition

goes that in return for this munificence the matrons had conferred upon them the honour of driving to sacred

festivals and games in a carriage, and on holy days and work days in a two-wheeled car. The gold received from

each was appraised in order that the proper amount of money might be paid for it, and it was decided that a golden

bowl should be made and carried to Delphi as a gift to Apollo.” (Translation Roberts 1912)

353 Eden 1975: 176 says of this passage that “matronae had long had the right to ride in two-wheeled carriages

(pilenta, carpenta) on public occasions, so long that different authorities assigned its origin to different events.”

Whatever historical authority Vergil was referring to, it is quite probable that Ovid is referring to Livy’s version of

things, given that the women’s protest for the reinstatement of their honor resembles Livy’s narrative about the Lex

Oppia.

172

removed the women’s right to ride in these carriages for twenty years, until the non-violent

protests of the women led to the repeal of the Lex Oppia and the reinstatement of their honor:

Inter bellorum magnorum aut uixdum finitorum aut imminentium curas intercessit res

parua dictu sed quae studiis in magnum certamen excesserit. M. Fundanius et L. Valerius

tribuni plebi ad plebem tulerunt de Oppia lege abroganda. Tulerat eam C. Oppius

tribunus plebis Q. Fabio Ti. Sempronio consulibus in medio ardore Punici belli, ne qua

mulier plus semunciam auri haberet neu uestimento uersicolori uteretur neu iuncto

uehiculo in urbe oppidoue aut propius inde mille passus nisi sacrorum publicorum causa

ueheretur. M. et P. Iunii Bruti tribuni plebis legem Oppiam tuebantur nec eam se abrogari

passuros aiebant; ad suadendum dissuadendumque multi nobiles prodibant; Capitolium

turba hominum fauentium aduersantiumque legi complebatur. Matronae nulla nec

auctoritate nec uerecundia nec imperio uirorum contineri limine poterant, omnes uias

urbis aditusque in forum obsidebant, uiros descendentes ad forum orantes ut florente re

publica, crescente in dies priuata omnium fortuna matronis quoque pristinum ornatum

reddi paterentur. Augebatur haec frequentia mulierum in dies; nam etiam ex oppidis

conciliabulisque conueniebant. Iam et consules praetoresque et alios magistratus adire et

rogare audebant... Haec cum contra legem proque lege dicta essent, aliquanto maior

frequentia mulierum postero die sese in publicum effudit unoque agmine omnes

Brutorum ianuas obsederunt, qui collegarum rogationi intercedebant, nec ante abstiterunt

quam remissa intercessio ab tribunis est. Nulla deinde dubitatio fuit quin omnes tribus

legem abrogarent. Viginti annis post abrogata est quam lata.

(Livy 34.1.1-7; 34.8.1-3)

While the State was preoccupied by serious wars, some hardly yet over and others

threatening, an incident occurred which though unimportant in itself resulted in a violent

party conflict. Two of the tribunes of the plebs, M. Fundanius and L. Valerius, had

brought in a proposal to repeal the Oppian Law. This law had been made on the motion

of M. Oppius, a tribune of the plebs, during the consulship of Q. Fabius and Tiberius

Sempronius, when the strain of the Punic War was most severely felt. It forbade any

woman to have in her possession more than half an ounce of gold, to wear a dress of

various colours or to ride in a two-horsed vehicle within a mile of the City or of any

Roman town unless she was going to take part in some religious function. The two

Brutuses - M. Junius and T. Junius - both tribunes of the plebs, defended the law and

declared that they would not allow it to be repealed; many of the nobility came forward to

speak in favour of the repeal or against it; the Capitol was crowded with supporters and

opponents of the proposal; the matrons could not be kept indoors either by the authority

of the magistrates or the orders of their husbands or their own sense of propriety. They

filled all the streets and blocked the approaches to the Forum; they implored the men who

were on their way thither to allow the women to resume their former adornments now

that the commonwealth was flourishing and private fortunes increasing every day. Their

numbers were daily augmented by those who came up from the country towns. At last

they ventured to approach the consuls and praetors and other magistrates with their

demands... After these speeches in support of and against the law the women poured out

into the streets the next day in much greater force and went in a body to the house of the

173

two Brutuses, who were vetoing their colleagues' proposal, and beset all the doors, nor

would they desist till the tribunes had abandoned their opposition. There was no doubt

now that the tribes would be unanimous in rescinding the law. It was abrogated twenty

years after it had been made.”354

Clearly, Ovid’s version of the story is quite different. The non-violent protests in Livy are

replaced by the refusal to bear children and the use of abortion to enforce this refusal in the

Fasti, and the twenty-year period that elapsed between the removal and reinstatement of their

right to use carpenta and pilenta in Livy is collapsed, as the years between the establishment of

the women’s honor (historically in 396 BCE) and its removal through the lex Oppia (historically

in 215) are alluded to simply by the words prius and mox (Fast. 1.619 and 621). This

condensation of time is appropriate for an elegiac work, which is not only traditionally shorter

than epic or historical works (and usually does not contain much by way of historical narrative)

but also generally unconcerned with matters of “accuracy” in comparison with historical

works.355 But the connection of this story to Carmentis - enabled not only by the strange

etymology between carpenta and Carmenta but also by the involvement of matters of childbirth

in the narrative – is (as far as we can tell, anyway) unprecedented.356 Ovid uses etymological

wordplay to invent a spurious connection between Carmentis and carpenta and manipulates an

existing historical account in order to put a violent spin on it. The whole passage, then, can be

read as a compelling statement about the creative power of poetic invention.

354 Translation Roberts 1912.

355 Historians generally spend some time in the beginnings of their works addressing the issue of accuracy. As

Livy puts it in his Praefatio: dum novi semper scriptores aut in rebus certius aliquid allaturos se aut scribendi arte

rudem vetustatem superaturos credunt. “While new writers always believe that they will add something more

accurate in events or will surpass the rude antiquity in skill of writing.”(Praef. 2)

356 Porte 1985: 378-81.

174

The passage also closes with a reiteration of Carmentis’ importance for poetry, in its

description of the other Carmentes, Porrima and Postverta: Porrima placatur Postvertaque, sive

sorores/sive fugae comites, Maenali diva, tuae:/altera, quod porro fuerat, cecinisse

putatur,/altera, venturum postmodo quicquid erat (Fast. 1.633-636). The names of the other two

Carmentes were not always understood as having reference to poetry. In fact, as we have seen,

Varro, an antiquarian and therefore one whose precedent we might expect Ovid to follow after

appealing to an antiquarian reader (siquis amas veteres ritus, adsiste precanti, 1.631), attributes

the opposite-facing names of these two goddesses to matters of childbirth, namely, whether a

child is turned “forward” (the right way) or “backward” (breech). Yet Ovid uses different names

for one of the two goddesses (Porrima rather than Varro’s Prorsa) and, furthermore, explains

their names as derivative of their poetic functions: one sang (cecinit – the same word with which

Vergil etymologized Carmentis’ name357) “that which occurred far in the past” (quod porro

fuerat, Fast. 1.635) and the other “what was about to occur thereafter” (venturum postmodo

quicquid erat – a reference to Postverta, Fast. 1.636). The role of the Carmentes as vates, poet-

prophets both like the Sibyl and like Ovid himself,358 comes to the fore. The reversion from the

focus on Carmentis’ role in childbirth back to a focus on Carmentis’ connection with singing

(whether prophecy or poetry), when Varro’s Carmentes would have perhaps been a more natural

choice in a passage about reproduction, is, as Green puts it, “intriguing.”359 Moreover, it is

357 O’Hara 1996: 70.

358 See Newman 1967. He argues that Ovid conflates the poetic and prophetic aspects of vates to an

unprecedented degree, eliminating the distinction that previous poets had made between poetae, poets of trivial

poetry, and vates, poets who sang of serious subjects. It may be the case that Ovid collapses the distinction in his

Amores, but the Fasti contains the sort of subject matter that would undoubtedly be filed in the vates category even

by earlier poets.

359 Green 2004: 290.

175

unclear whether Ovid’s derivation would have been believable, especially given the “apparently

unique usage” of porro to refer to the past rather than the future.360 Servius gives not only the

same names but the same derivations as Ovid does, but, of course, Servius postdates Ovid.

Before Ovid, there are no sources mentioning these same names and derivations.361 Macrobius

names Prorsa Antevorta, making her the true opposite of Postverta, but, as Bettini notes, this

option is unacceptable for Ovid because it is metrically a cretic.362 Ovid may be hinting that his

etymology is his invention when, before discussing these two other goddesses, he urges his

antiquarian reader to pay attention, since “you will learn names not known to you before”

(nomina percipies non tibi nota prius – Fasti 1.632).

Through the use of etymology and manipulation of historical “facts,” then, Ovid once

again emphasizes Carmentis’ role as a goddess of poetry and redefines the Carmentalia as a

festival that celebrates not just childbirth and prophecy but also poetic invention.363 Yet we can

get even more specific than this: Carmentis, in this passage at least, is not the goddess of just any

poetry, but of Ovid’s erotic elegiac poetry in particular, for the violent description of abortion

seems to be drawn exclusively from Ovid’s poetic precedent. As Green puts it, “Of all the

Augustan writers...Ovid is the only one to deal with the controversial issue of abortion, both

cursorily...and in detail.”364 Most pertinent are Amores 2.13 and 2.14, where Ovid rebukes

Corinna for aborting her unborn fetus and puts forth many arguments against the practice in

360 Green 2004: 290.

361 Bömer 1958: 52 doubts the validity of this name at all.

362 Bettini 1991:155.

363 OLD on edo.

364 Green 2004: 285.

176

general, not the least of which is the question of how Roman history would have turned out if the

mothers of great historical figures had chosen abortion (Am. 2.9-18). Green suggests that this

story in the Fasti took its inspiration from that hypothetical scenario in the Amores, although the

fact that there seem to be no real consequences for Rome’s children may argue against such a

straightforward interpretation.365 Still, the bold rashness of the women, who are described as

temeraria Fast. 1.623, is a thread common to both poems.

The violent language, and not just the scenario, is also reminiscent not only of the

abortion poems in the Amores but of the Heroides, as well:

neve daret partus, ictu temeraria caeco

visceribus crescens excutiebat onus.

(Fast. 1.623-4)

…lest she give birth, the rash woman was striking the growing burden from her innards

with a blind stroke.

quas mihi non herbas, quae non medicamina nutrix

attulit audaci supposuitque manu,

ut penitus nostris – hoc te celavimus unum –

visceribus crescens excuteretur onus!

(Ep. 11.39-42)

What herbs did my nurse not bring to me, what medicines did she not bring and apply

with her bold hand, in order that the growing burden within our innards might be struck

forth – this one thing we concealed from you!

Dum labefactat onus gravidi temeraria ventris,

in dubio vitae lassa Corinna iacet

(Am. 2.13.1-2)

Since the rash woman destroys the burden from her pregnant belly, Corinna lies spent

with her life in doubt…

Quid plenam fraudas vitem crescentibus uvis...

vestra quid effoditis subiectis viscera telis?

(Am. 2.14.23-27)

365 Green 2004: 285.

177

Why should you defraud the vine full of growing grapes…why do you dig out your

innards by applying weapons?

The verbal echoes between Ovid’s earlier work and the Fasti passage are clear, especially

those from Heroides 11, Canace’s words to her brother Macareus. The graphic nature of these

words is emphasized by the repetition of compounds of rapere throughout the Fasti passage:

eripitur 1.621, corripuisse 1.625, and ereptum 1.626. Would these words have been shocking to

a Roman audience? It is difficult to tell, especially since – as Green has pointed out – this story

of the women taking reproductive matters into their own hands in order to get what they want

from the men is also somewhat reminiscent of the comedic Lysistrata.366 It is undeniable,

however, that the second Carmentis passage in the Fasti incorporates the boundary-testing

subject matter, namely, abortion, previously seen only in Ovid’s erotic elegiac poems from

Heroides and Amores.

In the first Carmentis passage (Fast. 1.461-496), Ovid defined Carmentis in terms of

poetry, and then had her give a “consolation” to her son that contained echoes to Ovid’s own

exile poetry. In this passage (Fast. 1.617-636), Ovid reiterates Carmentis’ connection with

poetry even in a story ostensibly about her role as a childbirth goddess, using the passage as a

statement of the creative power of poetry and of his own poetic independence – as he not only

creates connections where there were none before but also brings subject matter that belongs

properly in erotic elegy into the context of religious aetiology.

3. Carmentis the Goddess-Maker: Poetry and the Power of Metamorphosis

366 Green 2004: 284.

178

The final passage involving Carmentis (which, though not properly part of the

“Carmentalia,” contributes to the narrative about Carmentis with which Ovid redefines the

celebration of this goddess) occurs at Fasti 6.473-550. In this passage, Ovid explains the

Matralia, identifying Greek Ino/Leucothea with the Roman goddess Mater Matuta in order to do

so. Although this was not an unprecedented association for the Romans,367 the actual description

of Ino/Leucothea’s arrival in Italy and transformation into an Italian goddess seems to be unique

in the extant record.368 She is chased from Greece by Juno’s wrath and arrives in Italy with her

son Palaemon (6.485-502), is attacked by Thyads and saved by Hercules (6.503-526), and,

finally, finds herself a guest in Carmentis’ humble home, where the prophetess reveals Ino’s

destiny as the Roman goddess Mater Matuta, after which Ino and her son undergo their

apotheosis (6.527-550). This story “taps into a nexus of myths associated with Ino,” exploiting

them in order to “transform primitive cult material into sophisticated literary aetiology.”369 It

should not surprise us that this is so, given that much of Ovid’s Fasti is devoted to such a project.

What is somewhat surprising is that Carmentis, who was never associated with Ino in our literary

sources, should be involved in this creative literary enterprise.

Ovid’s connection between the two goddesses is not far-fetched, however. According to

what we can glean from authors such as Lucretius, Mater Matuta was both a goddess of the

rising sun (matuta being connected to matutinus, “pertaining to the morning”) and a goddess

367 See e.g. N. D. 3.48 (Quid deinde, Ino dea ducetur et Leukothea a Graecis a nobis Matuta dicetur, cum sit

Cadmi filia, Circe autem et Pasiphae et Aeeta e Perseide Oceani filia natae patre Sole in deorum numero non

habebuntur?) and Tusc. 1.12.28 (quid? Ino Cadmi filia nonne Leukothea nominata a Graecis Matuta habetur a

nostris?).

368 Littlewood 2006: 152.

369 Littlewood 2006: 151.

179

associated with “the birth and growth of plants and animals.”370 Iconographically, she appeared

nurturing a baby, and the sacrificial remains from her precinct in the Forum Boarium sometimes

include pregnant animals; thus she was associated both with birth – like Lucina – and with the

actual rearing of small children (as a kourotrophos).371 Carmentis and Mater Matuta, then, had

“similar spheres of influence,”372 both being associated with childbirth. This similarity may

explain the connection drawn between the two in Plutarch’s Romulus 21.1-2, in which the

establishment of the festivals of the Matralia and Carmentalia is conflated into a single passage.

This similarity was not their only connection; their sacred precincts were adjacent to each

other, as well. The existing temple of Mater Matuta and Fortuna was located near the Porta

Carmentalis in the Forum Boarium, near the Capitoline hill, which also contained a temple to

Hercules – who is connected with both Carmentis and Matuta in Ovid’s Fasti (1.543-582 and

6.521-528).373 Nevertheless, no direct connection between the two is made in our literary

sources; Ovid alone gives Carmentis an important role in Ino’s story and in the festival of the

Matralia,374 and this role continues the emphasis on Carmentis as a representative of Ovid’s

poetic program.

370 Littlewood 2006: 147; Lucretius 5.656-657 - Tempore item certo roseam Matuta per oras/aetheris auroram

differt et lumina pandit – these lines begin a passage about the growth of plants and of man.

371 Littlewood 2006: 147.

372 Littlewood 2006: 165.

373 “In the recent excavations of the Area Sacra di S. Omobono, despite careful research, no trace of either the

Porta Carmentalis or the shrine of Carmentalis has been identified. These must have been very close to this area, the

Porta Carmentalis opening in the Servian Walls where they crossed the Vicus Iugarius and the shrine just inside it

(iuxta portam, not extra portam, Servius ad. Aen. 8.337).” Richardson 1992: 72.

374 Indeed, Ovid seems to arrange the narratives to emphasize the similarities between Ino and Carmentis. Both

are expelled from their native land and reach Italy as a place of sanctuary, both have an encounter with Hercules

while they are in Italy, both are heavily identified with their sons, and both become Italian goddesses. Interestingly,

Littlewood focuses more on the similarities between Ino and Evander in her analysis (2006: 159-60, but while Ino

certainly resembles the famous male immigrants Evander and Aeneas, there are several factors that suggest she is

meant to be understood as a parallel to Carmentis. First, both the Carmentis narrative and the Ino narrative appear in

passages about festivals that are named after these figures (the Carmentalia and the Matralia, respectively), so that

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The conclusion of Ino’s story, in which she not only meets Carmentis but is informed of

her impending transformation into a Roman goddess, uses language that specifically evokes

Ovid’s own literary accomplishments:

“Leucothea Grais, Matuta vocabere nostris;...

ite, precor, nostris aequus uterque locis!”

adnuerat, promissa fides. posuere labores,

nomina mutarunt: hic deus, illa dea est.

(Fast. 6.545-550)

“You will be called Leucothea by the Greeks, Matuta by our people; go, I pray, both of

you favorable to our waters!” She nodded assent, her faith was promised. They put

down their labors, they changed their names: he is a god, she is a goddess.

The assent that Ino grants to Carmentis’ prayer (adnuerat 6.549) may contain a play on the word

annus (as an alternative spelling to adnuerat would be annuerat),375 thereby emphasizing Ino’s

establishment as a goddess in this poem, whose subject matter is the Roman year (tempora...

Latium digesta per annum, Fast. 1.1). Meanwhile, mutarunt (Fast. 6.550) brings to mind the

mutatas formas that are the subject of Ovid’s Metamorphoses (Met. 1.1). Indeed, Ino’s story,

with its combination of tragic and hymnic elements – the attempted sparagmos at Fast. 6.513-

the lengthy narrative of Carmentis’ arrival in Italy and the lengthy narrative of Ino/Matuta’s arrival in Italy are put in

contexts that emphasize the importance of Carmentis and Matuta – rather than the male characters – in these

narratives. Both narratives are in the framing books, 1 and 6, both occur at almost the same point within their

individual books, around line 500, and both characters are female. The similarity between the two characters boils

down to specific language, as well. For example, Ovid uses a similar formulation to introduce both episodes, that of

Aurora as the bride (nupta) of of Tithonus (1.461 and 6.483, respectively). Though a description of Dawn as Aurora

and an establishment of her relationship to a male character (particularly Tithonus, but also her father or son, for

example) is not unique in Ovid, these two passages are the only places where the word nupta is used to describe her.

Likewise, in both passages the goddesses are referred to by means of their place of origin, Carmentis as

Arcadiae...deae (1.462) and Ino as Thebanae...deae (6.476). Moreover, all of the major elements of Ino’s journey

have resonances in Carmentis’ passages in Book 1, even those that are not shared by Evander, such as the goddess’s

closeness with her son, the encounter with women whose behavior is less than rational (who, in both situations, are

described via the poetic epithet Ausonias; Fast. 1.619 and 6.504), a meeting with Hercules, and, finally, apotheosis

and the transition from being Greek mythological figures to Roman goddesses. Thus both the specific language and

the narrative instances that appear in Ino’s story connect her inextricably with Carmentis.

375 As Carole Newlands pointed out to me.

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515 that is reminiscent of Euripides’ Bacchae and the reception of Ino by Carmentis (Fast.

6.531-534) that is similar to literary works such as the Homeric Hymn to Demeter - seems as

though it could be drawn from the Metamorphoses, which likewise weaves a variety of generic

influences into its complex narrative structure, making it not only a history of myths that cover

the span of time from the creation of the world to Ovid’s own time but also a history of the

literature that covers these myths.376 The possible reference to the Metamorphoses reminds us of

how Ovid has taken a Greek figure and transformed her into a Roman figure, just as he makes so

many Greek myths into Roman ones in the Metamorphoses. Just as Ovid invented the

connection between Carmentis and carpenta, and made Carmentis into a dea (whereas in Vergil

she had only ever been nympha), he not only invented (or at the very least embellished) the story

of Ino/Leucothea’s Italian deification but also made Carmentis the mouthpiece of this

deification. In fact, the immediate effect of Carmentis’ prophecy - as if her words actually

initiate the process of deification (Fast. 6.546-7) – suggest Carmentis as an agent of this

deification. If, as I have argued, Carmentis is truly symbolic of Ovid’s poetry, then the fact that

Carmentis seems to create the goddess Matuta from Ino/Leucothea is a powerful statement of

Ovid’s poetic power, regardless of the previous association between Ino and Matuta.

4. Ovid’s Carmentis and Vergil

The landing of the ship at the Tiber’s bank (Fast. 1.497-508) and Carmentis’ prophecy

(1.509-536) maintain the engagement with poetic concerns. More specifically, Carmentis’

376 Harrison 2002: 89 – “Metamorphosis is the theme of the poem, both in terms of its formal content, and in

terms of its generic variety. Genres appear and disappear and are transformed into each other through the long

course of the poem, following its explicit programme (1.1-2): literary forms are transformed into new bodies of

poetic work.”

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prophecy begins an explicit interaction with Vergil’s Aeneid that continues through the end of

the first Carmentalia episode (1.586).377

In the first of these two passages (1.497-542), Carmentis is aligned with Vergil’s Sibyl.

Standing at the prow of the ship, she literally guides the ship as she metaphorically guides the

progress of the poet and produces prophecies, just as the Sibyl both literally guides Aeneas into

the Underworld and metaphorically guides his progress with her prophecies. When Carmentis is

inspired to sing her prophecies, she “displays the characteristic traits of the frenzied

prophetess,”378 including immissis capillis (which corresponds to the non comptae...comae of

Vergil’s Sibyl at A. 6.49) and fierce, seemingly-erratic behavior, indicated by torva in line 504

and non sano...pede in line 506 (which correspond to the behavior of Vergil’s Sibyl at A. 6.49,

rabie fera corda, and 6.78, bacchatur).379

377 Green 2004: 215 argues that the explicit engagement with Vergil begins with Ovid’s etymological play in

the beginning of the Carmentalia episode, when Ovid says Carmentis has a name “drawn from a poem” (Fast.

1.467), and that, in fact, Ovid is suggesting that Carmentis’ name comes from a particular poem, namely, Vergil’s

Aeneid. Despite the fact that Carmentis plays a small role in the Aeneid as a whole, Carmentis’ name appears three

times in four lines: Carmentis nymphae monita et deus auctor Apollo.’/uix ea dicta, dehinc progressus monstrat et

aram /et Carmentalem Romani nomine portam/quam memorant, nymphae priscum Carmentis honorem (A. 8.336-

339). Ovid, meanwhile, does not mention Carmentis’ actual name for the entirety of the two passages regarding the

Carmentalia (January 11th and January 15th) – a common method of etymological play, according to O’Hara

1996:80: “Vergil and other Augustan poets often suppress or omit a name or word that must be supplied by the

reader, so that the etymological wordplay only really ‘takes place’ when the missing word is supplied.” Indeed, by

slyly alluding to Carmentis’ name through etymological play and through the suggestion that it can be drawn from

“a poem” in addition to “poetry,” Ovid may, according to Green, be reacting to the frequency with which Carmentis’

name appears in Vergil’s passage. However, the fact that Carmentis was a goddess well-established before Vergil’s

time, and especially one whose name was already associated with the word carmen (according to our various

sources), argues against this reading, which is reductive in the way it limits Carmentis’ import to a single poem.

378 Green 2004: 231.

379 The use of bacchatur on Vergil’s part to describe the behavior of his prophetess is an interesting one; with

this word, he indicates that the possession of a woman by Apollo is similar to the possession of a woman by

Bacchus, despite the fact that Apollo tends to be seen as the god of order and rationalism versus Bacchus’ disorder

and irrationalism. Though Ovid does not use the word bacchatur, his prophetess displays behavior similar to that of

Vergil’s Sibyl.

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Carmentis’ prophecy, meanwhile, replaces and supersedes the major prophecy of Vergil’s

Sibyl at Aeneid 6.83-97. Catching sight of the bank of the Tiber and being filled with an

inspiration that is barely able to be restrained (Fast. 1.499-508), Carmentis pours forth her

prophecy:

'di' que 'petitorum' dixit 'salvete locorum,

tuque, novos caelo terra datura deos, 510

fluminaque et fontes, quibus utitur hospita tellus,

et nemorum silvae Naiadumque chori,

este bonis avibus visi natoque mihique,

ripaque felici tacta sit ista pede.

fallor, an hi fient ingentia moenia colles, 515

iuraque ab hac terra cetera terra petet?

montibus his olim totus promittitur orbis.

quis tantum fati credat habere locum?

et iam Dardaniae tangent haec litora pinus:

hic quoque causa novi femina Martis erit. 520

care nepos Palla, funesta quid induis arma?

indue: non humili vindice caesus eris.

victa tamen vinces eversaque, Troia, resurges:

obruit hostiles ista ruina domos.

urite victrices Neptunia Pergama flammae: 525

num minus hic toto est altior orbe cinis?

iam pius Aeneas sacra et, sacra altera, patrem

adferet: Iliacos accipe, Vesta, deos.

tempus erit cum vos orbemque tuebitur idem,

et fient ipso sacra colente deo, 530

et penes Augustos patriae tutela manebit:

hanc fas imperii frena tenere domum.

inde nepos natusque dei, licet ipse recuset,

pondera caelesti mente paterna feret,

utque ego perpetuis olim sacrabor in aris, 535

sic Augusta novum Iulia numen erit.'

(Fast. 1.509-536)

“Greetings,” she said, “gods of the sought-after places, and you, land about to give new

gods to the sky, and rivers and springs that this hospitable land enjoys, and nymphs of the

groves and bands of Naiads! Be like birds of good omen seen by my son and by me, and

may that bank be touched by a fortunate foot! Am I deceived, or will these hills become

great walls, and will another land seek laws from this land? One day the whole earth is

promised to these mountains: who could believe that the place has such a great fate? And

now Dardanian pine will touch these shores: here also the cause of a new war will be a

woman. Dear grandson, Pallas, why do you don fatal arms? Put them on! You will be

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slain with no humble avenger. Nevertheless you, conquered Troy, will conquer, and you

will rise again, though once overthrown: that ruin will destroy enemy homes. There will

be a time, when the same man will guard both you and the world, and rites will happen

with the god himself worshipping, and the protection of the fatherland will remain in the

hands of Augustans: it is right for this house to hold the reins of empire. Thence the

grandson and son of a god, although he himself will refuse, will bear his father’s weight

with a heaven-inspired mind; and as I shall one day be reverenced on perpetual altars, so

Julia Augusta will be a new divinity.”

The prophecy begins with a prayer to the native Italian gods (1.509-514), then foretells the rise

of the Roman empire (1.515-518), from the arrival of Aeneas and the ensuing wars (1.519-528)

to the rise of Augustus and his family (1.529-534); it ends with Carmentis’ prediction of her own

apotheosis, as well as that of Livia (1.535-6). The prophecy of Vergil’s Sibyl, meanwhile,

focuses on the wars that will occur once Aeneas arrives in Latium:

‘o tandem magnis pelagi defuncte periclis

(sed terrae graviora manent), in regna Lavini

Dardanidae venient (mitte hanc de pectore curam),

sed non et venisse volent. bella, horrida bella,

et Thybrim multo spumantem sanguine cerno.

non Simois tibi nec Xanthus nec Dorica castra

defuerint; alius Latio iam partus Achilles,

natus et ipse dea; nec Teucris addita Iuno

usquam aberit, cum tu supplex in rebus egenis

quas gentis Italum aut quas non oraveris urbes!

causa mali tanti coniunx iterum hospita Teucris

externique iterum thalami.

tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior ito,

qua tua te Fortuna sinet. via prima salutis

(quod minime reris) Graia pandetur ab urbe.’

(A. 6.83-97)

“Man who has completed great dangers on the sea (but graver ones await on land), the

Dardanians will arrive at the kingdom of Lavinium (remove this concern from your

breast), but they will wish they had not done so. I see wars, horrible wars, and the Tiber

foaming with much blood, nor will you lack a Simois, a Xanthus, or Greek camps already

a new Achilles has been born in Latium, he, too, born from a goddess; nor will Juno,

continuously attached to the Teucrians, be absent, while you, a suppliant in dire straits –

what people of the Italian race and what cities will you not beg! The cause of such great

evil for the Teucrians will be again a stranger bride, again a foreign wedding. But do not

yield to evils, but go against them more bravely, however your Fortune allows. Your first

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path to salvation (that which you would by no means expect) will be opened to you from

a Greek city.”

The closest resonances between the two prophecies concern the war. Vergil’s horrida bella (A.

1.86) is echoed by Ovid’s funesta...arma (Fast. 1.521), with Ovid’s use of arma – the infamous

first word of the Aeneid – underscoring his interaction with Vergil. Both passages describe the

arrival of Aeneas and his cohort using the adjective Dardanius; both passages emphasize that,

once again, a woman will be the cause of war. Both passages emphasize one particular

individual – Vergil’s passage focuses on the “second Achilles” (i.e. Turnus); Ovid’s focuses on

Pallas, whom Turnus will slay. It is perhaps unsurprising, “given the identity of the prophetess”

as Pallas’ grandmother, that this is the only prophecy about Rome in which Pallas appears.380

Here Ovid is clearly engaging with Vergil, for Pallas, as Evander’s son, has (as far as we can

tell) no existence outside of Vergil’s Aeneid.381 Ovid utilizes the relationship between Carmentis

and Pallas in order to focus on the victim – rather than the victor – in this prophecy. Given

elegy’s association with lamentation, this facet of Carmentis’ prophecy seems particularly

appropriate to her situation in an elegiac work. The Sibyl’s prophecy, on the other hand, focuses

on the violence and bloodshed that will ensue in the bella, horrida bella (A. 6.86), an appropriate

focus given the Sibyl’s place in a work which famously begins with the word arma (A. 1.1).

As if to emphasize the difference between Carmentis’ prophecy and the Sibyl’s, Ovid

includes a clever sort of “signature” at the end:

talibus ut dictis nostros descendit in annos,

substitit in medio praescia lingua sono.

(Fast. 1.537-538)

380 Green 2004: 239.

381 Livy does not mention him as Evander’s son. For Dionysius (who cites Polybius), Pallas is the grandson of

Evander and son of Hercules and Lavinia, who in these sources appears as Evander’s daughter (1.32).

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When with such words she came down to our times, her prescient tongue stopped

mid-sound.

Carmentis’ prophecy comes in nostros annos (“into our years”). Far from being a purely

chronological reference to the fact that the prophecy ends with Livia (Fast. 1.536), who was a

significant personage in Ovid’s own time, the word annos suggests the very literary work in

which this prophecy appears. Since the Fasti begins by promising to tell of “times

scattered/organized throughout the Latin year” (tempora...Latium digesta per annum, Fast. 1.1),

annos can be said to be a key topic of Ovid just as bella and arma are key topics of Vergil. Thus

Carmentis self-consciously brings her prophecy into the Fasti, where she exists as a major poetic

figure in contrast to Vergil’s prophetic characters. In nostros annos might also remind us of the

prologue to Ovid’s Metamorphoses, in which he promises to bring his work down to his own

“times” (ad mea tempora, Met. 1.4), a promise that has also been interpreted as, possibly, a

reference to the Fasti, at least in the context of post-exilic revision.382 Whether or not we choose

to imbue Carmentis’ words with such a high degree of self-conscious literary import, it is clear

that Carmentis is depicted as a figure whose poetic goals are aligned with Ovid’s own.

Carmentis’ Roman prophecy also engages with and diverges from other prophecies in the

Aeneid. For example, Rome’s future world dominion is described: fallor, an hi fient ingentia

moenia colles,/iuraque ab hac terra cetera terra petet? montibus his olim totus promittitur orbis

(“Am I deceived, or will these hills become huge mountains, and will the rest of the world get

laws from this land? The whole world is promised to these mountains”; Fast. 1.515-517), and

the prophecy ends with the rule of Augustus (1.528-536). These two parts of the prophecy are

reminiscent of Jupiter’s prophecy at A. 1.257-96 and Anchises’ prophecy at A. 6.756-886,

382 Hinds 1999: 54-55.

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respectively. Ovid has therefore taken prophecies out of the mouths of Rome’s greatest god and

the father of Aeneas and has, instead, given them an elsewhere fairly minor – and female! –

deity, one whom he has equated with poetry itself and whose status he has elevated in an

unprecedented way. Moreover, Carmentis’ words, though in many ways representative of the

words of Vergil’s Sibyl, also differ in important ways, not only in the focus on Pallas but also in

the way her description of the future glory of the Augustan family ends with her own apotheosis

and that of Livia, a woman (Fast. 1.535-536). Ovid’s elevation of a minor deity to epic

proportions (with his equation of her prophecy to those of the Sibyl, Jupiter, and Anchises) and

his privileging of the female voice and female concerns reflect his usual tendencies, as

epitomized by his privileging of the female voice in the Heroides and his equation of elegiac and

epic material throughout his erotic poetry (especially in Am. 1.9: militat omnis amans – “every

lover is a soldier”). Ovid uses the figure of Carmentis to show not only how indebted he is to

Vergilian poetry (as the similarities between his version and Vergil’s suggest) but also how

independent he can be from it. Of course, Ovid’s manipulation of the Vergilian tradition and his

privileging of the female voice (and Livia!) also have political ramifications; these will be

considered in my section on “Ovid’s Carmentis and Politics.”

What follows Carmentis’ prophecy, the story of Hercules and Cacus (Fast. 1.543-586), is

another instance in which Ovid plays with Vergilian precedent. Carmentis and Evander had

already been associated with Hercules in authors such as Strabo, Dionysius, and Livy. Dionysius

relates a tradition from Polybius that Evander’s daughter Lavinia was married to Hercules, and

that their son was Pallas, after whom Pallanteum was named (AR 1.32.1).383 He remains,

383 ὡς δέ τινες ἱστοροῦσιν, ὧν ἐστι καὶ Πολύβιος ὁ Μεγαλοπολίτης, ἐπί τινος μειρακίου Πάλλαντος αὐτόθι

τελευτήσαντος: τοῦτον δὲ Ἡρακλέους εἶναι παῖδα καὶ Λαύνας τῆς Εὐάνδρου θυγατρός: χώσαντα δ᾽ αὐτῷ τὸν

μητροπάτορα τάφον ἐπὶ τῷ λόφῳ Παλλάντιον ἐπὶ τοῦ μειρακίου τὸν τόπον ὀνομάσαι. “But some writers, among

them Polybius of Megalopolis, related that the town was named after Pallas, a lad who died there; they say that he

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however, skeptical of this tradition: ἐγὼ μέντοι οὔτε τάφον ἐθεασάμην ἐν Ῥώμῃ Πάλλαντος οὔτε

χοὰς ἔμαθον ἐπιτελουμένας οὔτε ἄλλο τῶν τοιουτοτρόπων οὐδὲν ἠδυνήθην ἰδεῖν (“But I have

never seen any tomb of Pallas at Rome nor have I heard of any drink-offerings being made in his

honour nor been able to discover anything else of that nature” – 1.32.2). Strabo, meanwhile,

relates a version of the story that is similar to Ovid’s:

τούτῳ δ᾽ ἐπιξενωθῆναι τὸν Ἡρακλέα, ἐλαύνοντα τὰς Γηρυόνου βοῦς: πυθόμενον δὲ τῆς

μητρὸς Νικοστράτης τὸν Εὔανδρον （εἶναι δ᾽ αὐτὴν μαντικῆς ἔμπειρον), ὅτι τῷ Ἡρακλεῖ

πεπρωμένον ἦν τελέσαντι τοὺς ἄθλους θεῷ γενέσθαι, φράσαι τε πρὸς τὸν Ἡρακλέα

ταῦτα καὶ τέμενος ἀναδεῖξαι καὶ θῦσαι θυσίαν Ἑλληνικήν... καὶ τὴν μητέρα δὲ τοῦ

Εὐάνδρου τιμῶσι Ῥωμαῖοι, μίαν τῶν νυμφῶν νομίσαντες, Καρμέντιν μετονομασθεῖσαν.

(Strabo 5.3.3)

When Heracles was driving the cattle of Geryone he was entertained by Evander; and

since Evander had learned from his mother Nicostrate (she was skilled in the art of

divination, the story goes) that Heracles was destined to become a god after he had

finished his labours, he not only told this to Heracles but also consecrated to him a

precinct and offered a sacrifice to him after the Greek ritual…and the Romans honour

also the mother of Evander, regarding her as one of the nymphs, although her name has

been changed to Carmentis.384

Carmentis’ prophecy about Hercules’ apotheosis is here connected to the establishment of a cult

of Hercules at Rome. However, she is also called merely “one of the nymphs” (μίαν τῶν

νυμφῶν), whereas in Ovid’s version of things Carmentis’ deification is closely tied to Hercules’

own: nec tacet Evandri mater prope tempus adesse,/Hercule quo tellus sit satis usa suo. /at felix

vates, ut dis gratissima vixit, /possidet hunc Iani sic dea mense diem. – “Nor does the mother of

Evander keep silent that the time was near, when the earth would be done with its Hercules. But

the blessed prophetess, as she lived most gratifyingly to the gods, thus possesses this day in the

was the son of Hercules and Lavinia, the daughter of Evander, and that his maternal grandfather raised a tomb to

him on the hill and called the place Pallantium, after the lad.

384 Translation by Jones 1923.

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month of Janus as a goddess”(Fast. 1.583-586). As for Livy’s version of things (1.7.3-15),385

while it does connect Carmentis’ prophecy about Hercules’ apotheosis to the skirmish between

Hercules and Cacus and the establishment of the Ara Maxima, it differs from Ovid’s version in

that Cacus is a shepherd rather than a monster and Evander relates his mother’s prophecy

indirectly.

Thus Ovid manipulates the tradition with regards to Carmentis’ role in the Hercules and

Cacus story by embedding this important story within an episode dedicated to Carmentis’

divinity and using her prophecy as a way to legitimize her worship as a goddess, something

which none of the literary sources has done. He also engages directly with Vergil’s poetic

version of the Hercules and Cacus story (A. 8.184-267), which makes Cacus a monster and

describes Hercules’ battle against this monster in detail.

To quote Green, what is striking is that “Ovid’s version of the Hercules and Cacus myth

is very closely modelled on Vergil’s in terms of individual detail. Furthermore, the story appears

to be related in as grand a manner as possible in the context of the poem.”386 Otis suggests that,

on the contrary, certain features of Ovid’s episode – for example, the long description of Cacus,

which interrupts the narrative tension of the episode, and the more logical, “ordinary” depiction

of the battle itself – are in fact hallmarks of elegy, and that the generic difference actually

detracts from what would be an “epic” climax.387 Yet Green argues that, with regards to Otis’

first point, “the accumulation of detail creates a powerful dramatic effect,” making him

385 See Appendix III.B.

386 Green 2004: 249.

387 Heinze 1960: 8, 84; Otis 1970: 31-36.

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recognizable as the epic monstrum of Vergil in an ecphrastic manner.388 Whatever the case, it is

clear that this episode, for the most part, is meant to be read as a “grand, epic-style episode”389

on a level with Vergil’s own version.

But Ovid not only shortens the epic narrative of Vergil and puts the fight in elegiac

couplets but also displaces the story from its proper calendrical context, thereby privileging, once

again, the female deity Carmentis. Hercules’ foundation of the Ara Maxima, with which this

episode concludes (Fast. 1.581-582) and which might be considered as the aetiological “point”

of the Hercules-and-Cacus story, was not celebrated until August 12th, according to the Fasti

Vallenses and Fasti Amiternini.390 Ovid connects this event to the January 11th entry by bringing

the focus back to Carmentis, who predicts Hercules’ apotheosis at the very end of the passage

and then – after being described at Fast. 1.585 with the same term with which Ovid describes the

Sibyl at Met. 14.123 (dis gratissima) - experiences her own apotheosis (Fast. 1.586). As this

passage is in the section dedicated to Carmentis, her apotheosis balances and even supersedes

Hercules’ own, bringing more so-called “gender equality” into the picture of Roman poetry and

apotheosis.

Through Carmentis’ prophecy about Rome and her role in the Hercules narrative, then,

Ovid asserts his poetic independence in relation to Vergil. His Carmentis combines three of the

major Vergilian prophets – Jupiter, the Sibyl, and Anchises – in order to give an elegiac version

of prophecies about Rome, thereby representing an “Ovidian” spin on epic matters. Moreover,

her festival is manipulated in order to incorporate the story of Hercules and Cacus, allowing

388 Green 2004: 254.

389 Green 2004: 250.

390 Green 2004: 248.

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Ovid to demonstrate not only his elegiac re-working of this epic story but also the powers of

poetic invention that allow him to manipulate “historical” and literary precedent.

Though he sets out at the beginning of the Carmentalia episode(s) ostensibly to explain

the “causes” and “custom” of the Carmentalia (Fast. 1.465), Ovid does no such thing. He

includes information about Carmentis’ inclusion in the Roman pantheon (1.585-586) and a brief

mention of one peculiar aspect of her rites (i.e. that it is not lawful to bring leather into her

shrine, 1.629), but the rest of the “Carmentalia” material seems to have only a tenuous

connection to Carmentis’ actual role in Roman religion as a goddess primarily of childbirth.

Rather, Ovid redefines Carmentis primarily as a representative of poetry (connecting the

etymology of her name to his own poetic project at 1.466-467). He then explores in detail a

“prophecy”/consolation that is highly elegiac in nature (in its possible echoes of the Tristia and

Ex Ponto). Next comes a prophecy that is both deeply indebted to Vergil’s Aeneid and changes

Vergil’s prophecy dramatically by turning a relatively minor female character into a powerful

speaker and focusing on the point of view of victims and women (specifically, Livia). Finally,

he finishes the passage by displaying an “epic” episode presented with elegiac concision, an

episode which he closes by reiterating the importance of Carmentis, the representative of poetry,

and even making her a dea where she had been merely a nympha in Vergil. In the following

Carmentalia passage (1.617-636) he invents a connection between a famous historical event and

the goddess of childbirth, effecting this connection through the use of abortion, a topic that only

Ovid seems to have dared to broach. In other words, when he says he is going to tell us about

the “cause” and “custom” of the Carmentalia, he instead redefines the Carmentalia in his own

terms, making it – through his play on words, genres, and precedents - a celebration of poetry

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itself, and his own poetry in particular. Carmentis’ return in Book 6, possibly a position of

closure if we believe the Fasti was never more than six books,391 reiterates her status as a poetic

figure by involving her in a narrative that not only explores various literary genres but also puts

her in a position of creative power, i.e., by making her the mouthpiece of Ino’s apotheosis.

Ovid’s Carmentis and Politics

1. Carmentis and Augustan figures: Aeneas, the Sibyl, and Apollo

In her role as Evander’s mother, Ovid’s Carmentis has a position of importance in the

story of Rome’s beginnings, a position that draws attention away from the family of Aeneas, the

genealogical founder of the Caesarian line and guarantor of Augustus’ empire (according to

Vergil’s Aeneid and the iconography of Ovid’s time such as the Ara Pacis and Forum

Augustum). Indeed, while Evander plays an important role in Book 8 of Vergil’s Aeneid, it is a

supporting role to Aeneas and his concerns. Meanwhile, in Ovid’s calendar poem, Evander

appears on six separate occasions that vary in length and detail, most of which occasions have

little or nothing to do with Aeneas (Fast. 1.469-586, 1.620, 2.279-280, 4.63-65, 5.91-92, 5.643-

644, 6.505-506). Fantham argues that “in building up the role of Evander, Ovid was both

adopting a figure first fully realized in Virgil’s Aeneid, and re-presenting him in a changed

context to provide his own realization of a phase of Roman prehistory that anticipated the

391 Martelli 2013 suggests that Ovid originally intended to make it 12 books long, but revised it after he was

exiled in order to make the six books that already existed into a finished product, thereby commenting on his poetic

ability to recreate the calendar anew just as Julius and Augustus Caesar had done. To support her argument, she

notes among other things, drawing on Barchiesi 1997:56, that the prologue of Book 4 has the hallmarks of a middle-

proem (2013:109), the placement of significant events that properly belong in the second half of the year into the

first half (2013: 111), and the closural quality of Janus’ appearance in Book 6 (2013:127). On Fasti’s intentionally

“unfinished” status, see also Feeney 2006.

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coming of Aeneas.”392 By choosing an Aeneas-like figure (a fugitive from another place who

founded a Roman settlement) who predated Aeneas, and by depicting him in a different way than

Vergil did (as a young man rather than old, for example393), Ovid asserts his “poetic

independence.”394 But in other contexts Evander serves a more political purpose. For example,

Fantham argues that as “surrogate for [Ovid’s] own homesickness and a vindication of his

innocence” as well as “a founder who was not a Julian ancestor,” Evander was “a good answer to

Augustus and Augustanism.”395 Carmentis, who is given even more prominence than Evander in

the Fasti by means of her direct speeches and her direct connection to the festivals, goes even

further in this direction: Ovid not only privileges the story of the Arcadian founders over that of

the Trojan ones but also privileges the story of Evander’s mother over Evander’s own, shying

away from the Vergilian and Augustan account in which Evander facilitated Aeneas’ supremacy.

The emphasis on Carmentis’ place of origin, Arcadia, hammers home her and her son’s

roles as alternative “founder figures” to Aeneas. Arcadia appears in the very first couplet of the

Carmentalia passage – where Carmentis is referred to as the “Arcadian goddess”

(Arcadiae...deae, Fast. 1.462), then seven lines later where its etymology is explained (orta prior

luna (de se si creditur ipsi)/a magno tellus Arcade nomen habet – “the land that rose before the

moon (if it is possible to believe it about itself) takes its name from great Arcas”, Fast. 1.469-

470), then again eight lines later: nam iuvenis nimium vera cum matre fugatus/deserit Arcadiam

Parrhasiumque larem (“for the young man having been exiled with his too-truthful mother

392 Fantham 1992: 155.

393 Fantham 1992: 159.

394 Fantham 1992: 157.

395 Fantham 1992: 170.

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deserted Arcadia and his Parrhasian home,” Fast. 1.477-478). In line 478, Ovid exploits the link

between Arcadia and the Parrhasians, which appears in historical writers like Strabo and

Pausanias but, among the poets, is only established in Vergil before Ovid (at A. 8.344 and also at

11.31, where he refers to Evander as Parrhasio). This term, which is an adjective roughly

equivalent to Arcadian, as it refers to a region in Arcadia,396 is used by Ovid again (Fast. 1.618)

in the second half of his discussion of the Carmentalia, where once again he refers to Carmentis

not by her name but by her place of origin. Finally, Arcadia appears again at Fast. 1.541-542,

where “no other of the Ausonian mountains was greater than the Arcadian (neque alter/montibus

Ausoniis Arcade maior erat).”397

Ovid’s emphasis on Arcadia in the context of Evander and Carmentis is both poetically

and politically significant. In Vergil’s Eclogues, which were modeled largely on Theocritus’

Idylls, Arcadia is a region of idealism, of pastoral concerns, and of song. The ancient Arcadia-

of-the-mind may traditionally have been a land of this kind, to judge by Statius’ version of the

story of Arcadia. Of the depiction of Arcadia as an essentially peaceful place before the arrival

of the civil war around Thebes (at 4.275-308), Parkes comments:

The reason why the Arcadians are leaving their native land would, of course, have been

foreign to their ancestors. There is no mention of war in early Arcadia: it would have had

no place in the kind of Golden Age that then existed, before agriculture, private property,

and cities. Arcadia’s more recent history similarly lacks signs of conflict. The summons

to war clearly disrupts the inhabitants’ lifestyle, throwing norms of peace and piety into

confusion. Now Mars is preferred to the traditional deities; the tranquillity of the

countryside no longer seems desirable. Reminiscences of past Arcadian harmony

396 Green 2004: 220 – “The Parrhasians were an ancient tribe in Arcadia; cf. Str. 8.8.1, Paus. 8.27.4. From here,

the name became a popular metonym for Arcadia.”

397 Green 2004: 246 suggests that there are two possible readings here: Arcade could be functioning as an

adjective referring to an understood “mountain,” or it could be a reference to “the Arcadian (man),” Evander. Frazer

1928 adopts the former interpretation, while Bömer 1958 argues that the use of Arcas as an epithet for Evander is

common enough to argue for the latter interpretation.

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highlight the current madness. What compounds the horror is the nature of the conflict in

which the Arcadians are involved. It is a civil war at heart, a dispute between brothers.398

Arcadia, then, is a perfect location in which to explore the issues of the ideals of peace vs. the

realities of war, “safe” because it is not directly tied into the political ideologies of the time but

nonetheless relevant to the major concerns of a civilization seeking to find its “Golden Age”

after decades of civil war. Indeed, Marincic argues that Vergil may have chosen Arcadia

partially because of its role as an alternative place of origin for Rome’s foundation, a foil that

allows for exploration without direct insult.399 By choosing Carmentis and Evander, the

Arcadians, over Aeneas and his Trojan contingent, Ovid, too, is engaging in a discourse of

alternative history that allows him to draw attention away from the “dominant” ideology.

Carmentis challenges the prominence of the Sibyl even more directly than she challenges

that of Aeneas and the Trojan contingent, however. As I noted in my section on “Carmentis and

Vergil,” Carmentis is positioned as a direct counterpart to the Sibyl in Book 6 of Vergil’s Aeneid

(in the descriptions of her divine possession and her role as literal guide to the male “founder”

figure), and her prophecy not only takes the place of the Sibyl’s but supersedes it by

incorporating aspects of Jupiter’s and Anchises’ prophecies, as well.

When Vergil chose the Sibyl as the mouthpiece of Rome’s future and Aeneas’ guide in

Book 6, he did not do so arbitrarily. The connection between Augustus’ religious reforms and

the Sibyl reached its apex shortly after Vergil’s death, in 17 or 12 BCE when Augustus

transferred the books from the Capitoline to the Temple of Apollo on the Palatine hill,400 yet

even before this definitive action, the Sibyl and her association with Apollo had become central

398 Parkes 2005: 364.

399 Marincic 2002: 143.

400 Both dates are given by Zanker 1988: 108.

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in Augustan iconography. Shortly after the battle of Philippi in 42 BCE, Octavian “began to use

as his seal the sphinx, symbol of the regnum Apollinis prophesied by the Sibyl (Pliny Nat.

37.1.10; Suetonius Aug. 50),” and soon this oracular creature became a frequent element in

Augustan art.401 The connection between the sphinx and the Sibyl had already been made on

coins minted for Julius Caesar,402 but Octavian/Augustus incorporated the sphinx – and, thereby,

her associate the Sibyl – into his artistic iconography in many other media, as well. Beyond that,

Octavian/Augustus himself was a member of the quindecemviri, the priesthood responsible for

guarding and consulting the Sibylline Books; in fact, at the Ludi Saeculares in 17 BCE he

presided as magister of these priests, and it was probably during that celebration that the transfer

of the Sibylline books to the Palatine took place.403

That the Sibyl is also one of the esteemed personages (besides Jupiter and Anchises) to

prophesy about Rome’s illustrious future in the Aeneid speaks to the importance of her role in the

Augustan milieu. Her prophetic skills are privileged and promised future honors in the Aeneid,

as well:

tum Phoebo et Triuiae solido de marmore templum

instituam festosque dies de nomine Phoebi.

te quoque magna manent regnis penetralia nostris:

hic ego namque tuas sortis arcanaque fata

dicta meae genti ponam, lectosque sacrabo,

alma, viros...

(A. 6.69-74)

Then I will establish a temple out of solid marble to Phoebus and Trivia and festival days

in Phoebus’ name. Great shrines await you, too, in our kingdom: for here I will put forth

your lots and the obscure fates spoken by you to my people, and I will consecrate chosen

men, kind lady...

401 Zanker 1988: 49.

402 Zanker 1988: 270-271.

403 Miller 2009: 97.

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Aeneas promises to build a temple to Apollo (and Trivia) and to include a shrine to the Sibyl

along with “chosen men” (i.e., a priesthood) to handle her prophecies. The festos dies de nomine

Phoebi may be a reference to the ludi Apollinares established in 212 BCE, since the Ludi

Saeculares were not established until 17 BCE and Vergil died in 19 BCE, but it could also be a

reference to the planned Ludi Saeculares. Whatever the case, the importance of the Sibyl to the

religion of Vergil’s time is made manifest through Aeneas’ words, which were, of course, to be

fulfilled by the emperor himself, who not only built the promised temple to Apollo and

connected this temple to his own house but also transferred the Sibylline books to this temple,

“where they were stored beneath the pedestal of Apollo’s statue in the cella.”404 The specific

connection of the Sibyl to Apollo may have been invented during Augustus’ time; as Miller puts

it, “sibyls were not always affiliated with [Apollo].”405 And yet, by early imperial times, this

connection had taken hold outside of Rome, to judge by the Sorrento Base, which depicts the

Sibyl “kneeling before the divine Palatine triad” (Apollo, Diana, and Latona).406

The Sibyl was linked to these important gods and given particular honor in Horace’s

Carmen Saeculare as well:

Phoebe silvarumque potens Diana,

lucidum caeli decus, o colendi

semper et culti, date quae precamur

404 Miller 2009: 97. The connection of the two houses has recently been questioned, as Hall 2014: 172 explains

in his summary of the scholarship on the matter. The scholars to first deny the traditional association are Iacopi and

Tedone 2006: 363.

405 Miller 2009: 134.

406 Miller 2009: 134. Evans describes the rest of the scene: “Aeneas is shown in front of Augustus’ house

(shown to be such through its decoration with the corona civica) on the Palatine, standing next to a figure carrying a

cornucopia, which may reasonably be identified as Augustus’ genius. The other sides echo this geographical

placement; Vesta, seated inside Augustus’ house; Apollo, Diana, Latona, and probably the Cumaean Sibyl; and

Cybele and two attendants. As Aicher makes clear, Augustus had built or restored a shrine on the Palatine to each

deity. Though she does not mention the connection, the side with Apollo, Diana, and the Sibyl matches precisely

the deities promised a temple by Aeneas in Aeneid 6”(Evans 1992: 51).

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tempore sacro,

quo Sibyllini monuere versus 5

virgines lectas puerosque castos

dis, quibus septem placuere colles,

dicere carmen.

(Horace Saec. 1-8)

Phoebus and Diana powerful in the woods, bright glory of the sky, you who must be

honored and worshiped always, grant the things we pray for at this sacred time, when the

Sibylline verses advised that selected virgins and chaste boys should sing a song to the

gods, to whom the seven hills are pleasing.

That the Sibylline verses appear in a poem that was performed at a huge public festival in

celebration of Rome’s success and glory is yet another example of this figure’s importance in the

religious and political ideologies of the time.

It is notable for our investigation of Ovid’s interaction with Vergil that in Vergil’s

passage, the Sibyl is called alma (A. 6.74) - an epithet that appears of the goddess Venus in

Lucretius (Aeneadum genetrix, hominum divomque voluptas,/alma Venus – “mother of the

family of Aeneas, joy to men and gods, kindly Venus,” Lucr. 1.1-2) - and is given honors equal

to those of Apollo and Trivia, while Carmentis in Book 8 is merely nympha (A. 8.339). On the

other hand, in the Fasti Carmentis is promoted to dea, while the Sibyl is called “the old woman”

(anum, Fast. 4.158) and “long-lived” (vivacis, Fast. 4.875). Likewise, at Metamorphoses

14.101-153 the Sibyl’s story has less to do with the future of Rome and more to do with the

unfortunate gift she extorts from Apollo (long-lasting life, but not long-lasting youth). Here, too,

she is described using the word vivacis:

“sed dea tu praesens, seu dis gratissima,” dixit,

“numinis instar eris semper mihi, meque fatebor

muneris esse tui...

pro quibus aerias meritis evectus ad auras

templa tibi statuam, tribuam tibi turis honores.”

respicit hunc vates et suspiratibus haustis

“nec dea sum,” dixit “nec sacri turis honore

humanum dignare caput...”

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(Met. 14.123-131)

“But whether you are a goddess, or most pleasing to the gods,” he said, “you will always

be equal to a divinity to me, and I shall profess that I exist by your beneficence...for

which favors I, having been borne out to the upper airs, will establish temples for you, I

will give you honors with incense.” The prophetess looks back at him and, with drawn-in

sighs, said, “Neither am I a goddess, nor is the human head worthy of the honor of sacred

incense...”

Aeneas’ words to the Sibyl in the Metamorphoses echo Aeneas’ words to the Sibyl in Vergil’s

Aeneid, inasmuch as he promises her a temple and honors. Yet the Sibyl not only denies being a

goddess herself but also denies the propriety of giving godlike honors to a human being. This is

certainly a departure from the Augustan ideology that declared Julius Caesar a god and promised

Augustus the same thing upon his death, a promise represented in Carmentis’ second prophecy in

the Fasti (1.509-534), where she hails Italy as the land “about to give new gods to heaven”(tuque

novos caelo terra datura deos, l.510), among which she counts the gods of Ilium (l.528), Julius

and/or Augustus Caesar (l.530), Augustus and Tiberius (1.533), Carmentis herself (1.535), and

Livia (as Julia Augusta, 1.536), all but the first of which began as mortals. Already in the

Metamorphoses, then, the Sibyl begins to be divorced from the divinity she enjoyed in Augustan

ideology. This process is completed in the Fasti, where the oracular voice that was once given to

her now belongs to Carmentis, who not only takes the Sibyl’s title dis gratissima (Fast. 1.585)

but becomes, in fact, a dea in the Sibyl’s stead. This is made all the more surprising by the fact

that in the Fasti, in which religious practices are a key topic of discussion, we might expect the

Sibyl – a prominent figure in Ovid’s day – to have more weight than Carmentis, whose literary

and iconographic presence was somewhat more muted. After all, Livy makes sure to emphasize

that Carmentis was eventually superseded by the Sibyl: Carmentae matris, quam fatiloquam

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ante Sibyllae in Italiam adventum miratae eae gentes fuerant – “[Evander’s] mother Carmenta,

whom the people had honored as a prophetess before the arrival of the Sibyl into Italy” (1.7).

Closely connected to the Sibyl’s prominence in Augustan poetry and iconography, and

even more important to Augustus’ religious program, of course, is Apollo himself. Augustus

cultivated Apollo’s worship even more, perhaps, than that of any other god.407 The best evidence

for this is the Temple of Apollo on the Palatine hill, which was dedicated in 28 BCE after being

promised to Apollo on the eve of the Battle at Naulochoi in 36 BCE; this is most probably the

temple to which Vergil’s passage at A. 6.69-70) refers. Though the restoration and construction

of a temple was by no means unusual during this time of religious renewal, the temple to Apollo

was unique in that it was part of a complex that included Augustus’ personal house. But

Octavian/Augustus’ affiliation with Apollo began much earlier, from the rumored “feast of the

twelve gods” in the 40s BCE (at which Octavian appeared dressed as Apollo) to the portrait

types he used that were reminiscent of Apollo and the coinage he issued with Apollo’s image on

it starting in 37.408 For Zanker, “it is fascinating to observe how deliberately Octavian pursued

this relationship to Apollo over the next twenty years or, to put it another way, how his sense of

mission and his entire program for healing Rome’s wounds bore the stamp of Apollo.”409

Apollo’s stamp is clear in the poets of the Augustan age, as well. Besides the use of the

Sibyl – Apollo’s prophetess – to give Aeneas direction in Aeneid Book 6, Apollo himself plays a

large role in Book 8’s description of Aeneas’ shield as Octavian’s patron god at the Battle of

407 See Miller 2009.

408 Taylor 1931: 127.

409 Zanker 1988: 50.

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Actium, who receives honors in return for his service (A. 8.714-723).410 He has the same role in

Propertius 4.6, as well, a poem that celebrates the temple of Palatine Apollo and the battle that

prompted its construction.

Horace’s Carmen Saeculare is the most explicit poetic example of Apollo’s new

prominence. Written to be performed at the first occasion of the Ludi Saeculares, this poem calls

upon and praises Apollo and his sister Diana most of all (who are given pride of place in the very

first line of the poem – see citation above). Though reference is made throughout the poem to

Jupiter and other gods, “the eclipse of the old Capitoline deities by the Palatine gods of the

princeps is most remarkable.”411 Phoebus and Diana are the first gods invoked in the poem, as

well as the last (spem bonam certamque domum reporto,/doctus et Phoebi chorus et

Dianae/dicere laudes, Saec. 74-76). They frame the poem, which asks for the fertility of the

people and land of Rome , as well as for Rome’s citizens to exhibit proper behavior (di, probos

mores docili iuventae, Saec. 45) and to receive glory. The focus on morality, found in line 45

and implied by the poem’s alleged speakers (“virgins and chaste boys”, Saec. 6), also aligns with

Augustus’ program of cultural renewal and the moral legislation found in the Leges Juliae of 18-

17 BCE (thus enacted just before Horace’s poem was performed).

Given the Augustan obsession with Apollo, Ovid’s story about Carmentis and the

carpenta (Fast. 1.617-636) takes on new meaning. When we compare his Carmentis story to

410 As Miller 2009: 97-98 puts it, “Augustus’ association with Apollo helped to shape Virgil’s epic vision of the

god. Indeed, one could argue that the large role that Virgil attributes to him in the legend of Aeneas was motivated

by Apollo’s Augustan connection.”

411 Feeney 1998: 34. Forsythe 2012: 72-73 notes that “the single most extraordinary feature” of the Carmen

Saeculare and the summaries of the Ludi Saeculares is “the total absence of Father Dis and Proserpina, who,

according to the most ancient sources, were the only two divinities associated with the Ludi Saeculares during

Republican times. Secondly, Jupiter Optimus Maximus and Apollo are the only two male divinities mentioned in

these rites.”

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Livy’s (5.25.7-10), we see that while the original deity involved is Apollo (who was honored by

the Roman matrons in the first half of the narrative involving the Lex Oppia), in the Fasti, there

is no mention of Apollo’s role in the Roman matrons’ honor. Just as the Ludi Saeculares are

conspicuously absent from the Fasti,412 Apollo is absent from this context in which we might

expect to find him. More shockingly, perhaps, the carpenta story, which properly should have

reminded its reader of the matrons’ proper behavior toward Apollo, instead depicts the women as

violating both natural and Augustan law by denying and even violently countermanding their

ability to reproduce.

Furthermore, while Apollo was specifically linked to the Sibyl’s prophetic powers in both

the Aeneid and Augustan iconography (and was known as the god of prophecy from the time of

the Greeks, too, who honored him in this capacity most prominently at Delphi), he is not given

explicit credit in relation to Carmentis’ powers of prophecy. At Fast. 1.474 her prophecies are

given with a mouth “full of the god” (ore...pleno...dei), while at 6.537-538 she summons her

“heavenly powers” (caelum...ac numina sumit) and “becomes full of the god” (fit...plena dei). It

would certainly be difficult for anyone steeped in the literature and ideology of prophecy to think

of a deity other than Apollo in this situation; however, Ovid at least does not emphasize the role

of Apollo in the prophecies of Carmentis in the same way that Vergil or Horace or the creator of

the Sorrento base emphasizes Apollo’s relationship to the Sibyl.

Thus Carmentis’ role in the Fasti can be read as a pointed political statement. Ovid

replaces Augustus’ “pet” prophetess, the Sibyl, with a prophetess who was neither linked so

strongly with Apollo nor so closely affiliated with Aeneas. Moreover, Carmentis’ words, unlike

412 Syme 1978: 32 calls this absence “serious,” as “this unique festival was celebrated with great pomp” and

“the ceremony gave scope for a poet to write about Apollo and the Sibyl.”

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the Sibyl’s, were not officially sanctioned religious scripture whose care was entrusted to fifteen

priests, including Augustus himself. And, in the abortion passage at least, Carmentis replaces

Apollo as the important deity. The use of a figure who was not already involved in the major

ideologies of the time gave Ovid room to play along the thin line between prophecy and poetic

license, between communal and individual concerns.

2. Carmentis and the Augustan Moral Legislation

Scholars such as Barchiesi and Pasco-Pranger have already explored in detail how

troubling the story of the Roman matrons’ abortion (Fast. 1.617-636) would have been in light of

the Augustan moral legislation of the time, especially given the previous section of the Fasti,

“which celebrated Augustus’ association with increase and productivity”413 through an

exploration of the etymology and connotation of the title Augustus:

sancta vocant augusta patres, augusta vocantur

templa sacerdotum rite dicata manu;

huius et augurium dependet origine verbi,

et quodcumque sua Iuppiter auget ope.

augeat imperium nostri ducis, augeat annos,

protegat et vestras querna corona fores...

(Fast. 1.609-614)

The fathers call holy things august, august are called the temples properly dedicated by

the hand of priests; augury, too, is derived from414 the root of this word, and whatever

Jupiter increases with his power. May he increase the empire of our leader, may he

increase his years, and may he protect your doors with the oak crown...

413 Green 2004: 286, with reference to Barchiesi 1997: 92-9 and Pasco-Pranger 2006: 265-7.

414 According to Green 2004: 280, “Ovid is the first to use dependeo (lit. ‘hang down’) in the metaphorical

sense to express word derivation.”

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In this passage, Ovid derives augustus – and augurium415 – from the root verb augere (hence the

repeated use of this verb in this passage); this is one of two etymologies postulated by the

ancients (the other being that both words derive from avis).416 Though the concept of “increase”

may not seem immediately to point to matters of reproduction, but rather towards economic and

political matters, the use of the perfect passive participle is frequently attested in the context of

marriage and children.417 Moreover, there are a few indications that the placement of the

passage about the word augustus and the following passage about the abortive practices of the

Roman women creates oppositional tension. The first is that the iconography of “increase” and

productivity promoted by Augustus included images of female fertility (most famously, perhaps,

in the “Tellus” frieze of the Ara Pacis – Image 3).418 The second is the reference to the oak

crown (querna corona), otherwise known as the corona civica, which was awarded to

Octavian/Augustus in 27 BCE. “This crown, a military prize traditionally awarded for saving

lives in battle...was apparently awarded to Augustus for saving the citizens,” as Ovid himself

tells us in Tristia 3.1: causa superpositae scripto testata coronae/servatos cives indicat huius ope

415 The connection between augurium and augustus is attested in Ennius – augusto augurio postquam incluta

condita Roma est (Ennius Annales fr. 155 Skutsch).

416 “Some agree with Ovid that augustus derives from augeo; cf. Suet. Aug. 7.2 quod loca quoque religiosa et in

quibus augurato quid consecratur augusta dicantur, ab auctu. Others assert that augustus, like augurium, derives

from avis; cf. Suet. Aug. 7.2 ab avium gestu gustuve, Festus 2 L.” Green 2004: 280.

417 OLD augeo 6c.

418 “If Roman society was not prepared to accept the political program of moral renewal, either directly or as

expressed in terms of the blessings of children, it took up enthusiastically the vision of the aurea aetas. The

campaign to encourage the procreation of children failed, but in the visual imagery it was maintained at a subliminal

level...The earliest and most elaborate composition of this type is the so-called Tellus relief on the Ara

Pacis...whether we wish to call this mother goddess Venus, because of the motif of the garment slipping off the

shoulder, Ceres, on account of the veil and stalks of grain, or the earth goddess Tellus, because of the landscape and

rocky seat, it is immediately obvious that she is a divinity whose domain is growth and fertility.” Zanker 1988: 172-

174.

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(Tr. 3.1.47-48).419 Indeed, coinage depicting the corona civica sometimes bore the inscription ob

cives servatos – “on behalf of the citizens, having been saved.”420 Augustus had become the

guarantor of the lives of his citizens, and his program emphasized both his role as saver of lives

and his promise of increased abundance and fertility. Ovid’s passage about the word augustus

draws on these elements of Augustan propaganda; the very next passage, in which not only the

fertility of women but also the lives of unborn fetuses are threatened by the behavior of the

Roman matrons, thus provides a surprising juxtaposition.

Further, it seems that Ovid actually manipulated the Roman calendar to emphasize this

juxtaposition. According to our sources, “between January 13 and 16, 27 B.C.E., Octavian

officially returned control of the state to the hands of the senate and people, received the corona

civia, the clipeus virtutum, and the privilege of having his doorway decorated with laurel, and

was granted the cognomen Augustus,”421 and yet it seems that the granting of the cognomen

Augustus actually occurred on January 16th.422 Ovid manipulates the calendar in order to

sandwich the celebration of the name “Augustus” between “Carmenta the prophetess and

Carmenta the midwife,”423 and he further manipulates – through etymological wordplay – a

“historical” episode in order to make the episode about Carmentis “the midwife” into an

unprecedented story that throws Augustan rhetoric into relief. This sandwiching of Augustus

between two Carmentis episodes is made all the more significant when we consider the fact that

419 Green 2004: 281.

420 See Zanker 1988: 92-94.

421 Pasco-Pranger 2006: 187.

422 Pasco-Pranger 2006: 194 and Barchiesi 1997: 93.

423 Barchiesi 1997: 93.

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the original manuscripts did not use the same editing practices that we do, and, as a result, there

would be no separation between these episodes.

What connects the “Augustan” future of productivity and increase and the story of the

Roman matrons’ abortive protests specifically is, of course, the moral legislation on marriage and

the production of children:

The connection…lies in the social legislation which began to be instituted in 18 B.C.E.

and was still a vital political issue in the last years of Augustus’ life. The social

legislation, the rhetoric of which focused in large part on the production and reproduction

of Roman mores through an emphasis on family life and procreation, had the effect of

making private life, and particularly women’s private lives, a matter of the very public

discourse of law.424

Ovid’s second Carmentis episode, then, does the same thing as the moral legislation; that is, it

makes “women’s private lives a matter of the very public discourse of law,” though of course the

process by which it does this is precisely the opposite of the intention of the Augustan laws. For

while the Augustan laws sought to bring women’s private lives into the legislative realm by

giving legal incentives to those who fulfilled their roles as producers of children, the women in

Ovid’s Carmentalia episode are given legal incentives in response to their thwarting of that

procreative role. As Barchiesi puts it, “abortion – one of the moral and material evils that the

Augustan restoration is combating – wins the battle for the very reason that it is capable of

cutting off the increase of the Roman name at its roots,”425 an increase which is the very thing

promoted by the legislation and celebrated in the Carmen Saeculare:

rite maturos aperire partus

lenis, Ilithyia, tuere matres,

sive tu Lucina probas vocari 15

seu Genitalis:

diva, producas subolem patrumque

424 Pasco-Pranger 2006: 193.

425 Barchiesi 1997: 96.

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prosperes decreta super iugandis

feminis prolisque novae feraci

lege marita, 20

certus undenos deciens per annos

orbis ut cantus referatque ludos...

(Horace Saec. 13-22)

Reveal the children born duly at full term, Ilithyia, watch over our gentle mothers,

whether you approve being called Lucina or Genitalis: Goddess, nurture our offspring

and make prosperous the decrees of the senate about the marrying of women and the

fertile marriage law of new offspring, so that the certain cycle through 110 years will

bring back the songs and games...

The responsibility of guaranteeing the Roman future, so that the next saeculum will occur (Saec.

21-22), is put legally on the mothers (17-20), and the goddess Ilithyia/Lucina/Genitalis (often

identified with Juno)426 is asked to ensure that this happens. But in Ovid’s version of things,

Carmentis, a goddess of childbirth far less emphasized in Augustus’ time and explicitly

connected by Ovid to his own poetic project, is brought into a story about the darker side of

women’s reproductive power – that is, the power to destroy as well as to create – that is

strikingly juxtaposed with the name Augustus and its ideologies.

One aspect of the placement of Ovid’s second Carmentalia passage that has not been

explored fully by scholars is its relationship to Livia. Though Pasco-Pranger discusses the

connection of Carmentis to the rhetoric surrounding the entire domus Augusta (including

Livia),427 she does not point out one way in which this connection is made even more pointed:

that is, Livia’s association with the carpentum. In 35 BCE, Livia, along with Octavia, was

426 The temple of Juno Lucina, for example, makes an appearance at Fast. 3.247-248. At Met. 9.294-295,

Lucina seems to be a separate goddess, but one under Juno’s supervision: Lucinam Nixosque pares clamore

vocabam./illa quidem venit, sed praecorrupta, meumque/quae donare caput Iunoni vellet iniquae (“I was calling on

Lucina and the twin Labors with a shout. Indeed, Lucina came, but corrupted, and she wished to give my head to

wicked Juno”).

427 Pasco-Pranger 2006: 187-194.

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granted certain privileges, including the sacrosanctitas of a tribune and the privilege to ride in a

carpentum.428 The story of the matrons and the carpenta in the Fasti, then, may have brought

Livia to mind. This connection is strengthened by the language that refers to Livia as genetrix

(Fast. 1.649) and “worthy of the bed of great Jove” (toro magni digna...Iovis, Fast. 1.650), terms

which evoke her association with childbirth and marriage.

Thus Ovid’s invented link between Carmentis and the historical story of the carpenta, as

well as its placement between a passage about the derivation of Augustus’ name and a passage

about Livia as mother and wife, provides a problematic viewpoint towards the moral legislation

and the procreative rhetoric that brought private matters into the public, political realm. If the

moral legislation was as unpopular as scholars such as Boyle would have us believe (and the

concessions in the lex Papia Poppaea in 9 CE, as well as Tiberius’ later reversal of some of the

strictures, suggests that this may have been the case),429 then Ovid is not only problematizing one

apect of Augustan ideology but also, potentially, poking at a spot that was already sore.

3. Carmentis and the Forum Boarium

Roman topography provides us with yet another way to interpret Carmentis’ recurring

role. Though the ancients considered the Palatine hill to be the location of Evander’s first

settlement,430 the topography of the city suggests that the Romans would have identified

428 Purcell 1986: 86.

429 Boyle 2003: 2 comments that “The adultery laws were impossible to police, and the reproductive legislation

received widespread protest and mass complaint,” and at 2003: 3 points to the lex Papia Poppaea (described at Suet.

Aug. 34 and Dio 56.1-10) and Tiberius’ returning “to the republican practice of leaving the disciplining of adultery

to the respective families” described at Suet. Tib. 35.1 and Tac. Ann. 3.54.5 as concrete evidence for this.

430 As, for example, in Servius’ commentary on A. 8.51 - ipse autem Euander, dimissa provincia sua exilio, non

sponte, conpulsus venit ad Italiam et pulsis Aboriginibus tenuit loca, in quibus nunc Roma est, et modicum oppidum

fundavit in monte Palatino, sicut ait Varro ‘nonne Arcades exules confugerunt in Palatium, duce Euandro?’ –

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Evander’s mother more readily with the Capitoline than the Palatine hill. The Porta Carmentalis

was located at the base of the Capitoline hill, at the Northwest corner of the Forum Boarium,

where the temple to Mater Matuta (and perhaps, also, a shrine to Carmentis) were also located.431

Indeed, according to Solinus, the third century AD grammarian:

suo quoque numini idem Hercules instituit aram, quae maxima apud pontifices habetur,

cum se ex Nicostrate, Evandri matre, quae a vaticinio Carmentis dicta est, inmortalem

conperisset…pars etiam infima Capitolini montis habitaculum Carmentae fuit, ubi

Carmentis nunc fanum est, a qua Carmentali portae nomen datum. Palatium nemo

dubitaverit quin Arcadas habeat auctores, a quibus primum Pallanteum oppidum

conditum... (Collectanea Rerum Memorabilium 1.10-13)

The same Hercules also instituted an altar to his own divinity, which is considered the

“greatest” (the Ara Maxima) among the priests, after he had discovered that he was

immortal from Nicostrate, Evander’s mother, who is called Carmentis because of her

prophecy-singing...also the lowest part of the Capitoline hill was the dwelling-place of

Carmenta, where now there is a shrine of Carmenta, from whom the name is given to the

Carmental gate. No one doubts that the Palatine has Arcadians as its founders, by whom

the town Pallanteum was first founded...

Solinus continues the traditional association of Carmentis with Evander, and of Carmentis’ name

with the Latin word carmina, and of Evander/Carmentis with Hercules. But Solinus gives us

additional information, as well, such as the fact that Carmentis’ shrine and gate are located near

the Capitoline hill – despite the association of the Arcadians with the Palatine, which Solinus

also explains. Indeed, though we have no extant material evidence regarding the location of the

shrine of Carmentis (since, perhaps shockingly for a childbirth-goddess, no dedications to her

Moreover Evander himself, with his own province lost by exile, not by choice, was compelled to come to Italy and,

with the Aborigines expelled, took hold of the places, in which now Rome lies, and he founded a small town on the

Palatine mountain, just as Varro says, “Didn’t Arcadian exiles flee to the Palatine, with Evander as their leader?”

431 Littlewood 2006: 151, Richardson 1992: 72, and Steinby 1993-2000: 240-241.

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have been found),432 we can be relatively certain (if we trust Solinus) that the shrine was near the

Capitol.433

The Porta Carmentalis, meanwhile, located in a highly important and accessible area

between the two most important Roman hills, the Palatine and the Capitoline, was nevertheless

quite distinct from the (at the time) most significant complex of sites and monuments near and

around the Forum Romanum. Rather, the Porta seems to be more easily associated with the

Capitoline hill and the Forum Boarium [Image 7].

It is likely that the episodes involving Carmentis in the Fasti would have brought the

physical location of her Porta and shrine to the reader’s mind, given the lack of alternative

iconographic references to the goddess. Mention of Carmentis in an aetiological discussion of

modern religious practices would have evoked the area surrounding the Capitoline hill,

especially for the Romans, who were “experienced readers of nonverbal texts,” able to glean a

great deal of meaning from both artwork and topography.434 Ovid himself often connects the

episodes of his poetry with Roman topography: for example, the Carmentalia episode opens with

a reference to the shrine of Juturna and its location (hic ubi Virginea Campus obitur aqua, Fast.

1.464),435 while Ovid’s Mater Matuta episode, which is connected with Carmentis, opens with a

discussion of Servius’ dedicating a temple to Matuta in the Forum Boarium (pontibus et magno

iuncta est celeberrima Circo/area, quae posito de bove nomen habet:/hac ibi luce ferunt Matutae

sacra parenti/sceptriferas Servi templa dedisse manus: “a very celebrated area adjoins the

432 Dumezil 1966: 393, drawing on Frazer 1928 on Fasti 2.

433 Scullard 1981: 63 suggests it was within the Forum Holitorium.

434 Favro 1996: 6-7.

435 The aqua he refers to here is the Aqua Virgo; the temple of Juturna was near the Campus Martius.

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bridges and the great Circus, which has its name from a cow placed there: on this day they say

that the scepter-bearing hands of Servius dedicated a sacred temple there to mother Matuta,”

Fast. 6.477-480).

In fact, Ovid might be playing with matters of a topographical persuasion when he brings

Carmentis into the story of Ino. As I mentioned above, the association between Ino/Mater

Matuta and Carmentis was not made in other literary sources; however, their monuments

(Carmentis’ gate and Matuta’s temple, and possibly also Carmentis’ shrine) were very close to

each other, and the mention of one may have evoked the other, the more so because of the

similarity of the two goddesses to each other as goddesses who were matres and protectors of

children, though Carmentis presided over their birth and Matuta over their rearing (Fortuna, too,

was part of this complex of goddesses, and her temple was attached to Matuta’s).436 Thus by

inserting Carmentis into the story of Ino, where she had had no role before, Ovid not only makes

a statement about Carmentis’ power as poet and prophetess but also emphasizes the “maternal”

topography of the Forum Boarium beneath the Capitoline hill.

The focus on this particular location may indeed have political ramifications, given the

changes that had occurred on the Palatine hill just before Ovid’s time. First, though, a note on

the Forum Boarium: this forum, whose name Ovid tells us derives from a statue of an ox (posito

de bove – Fast. 6.478), was an ancient area, and one that housed several sanctuaries belonging to

deities who were not the most significant figures in the Augustan programme, such as Hercules,

436 See Littlewood 2006: 165.

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Aesculapius, and Mater Matuta.437 In addition, it was a busy commercial area,438 which, though

not necessarily prominent in Augustan ideology, would have been personally significant to a

large number of Roman citizens.

Carmentis, whose gate and (possibly) shrine make her a representative of the Capitoline,

may be seen as a figure who draws attention away from the Palatine. Both hills were loci of the

Roman cultural consciousness: “the Palatine, as the traditional site of Romulus’ foundations, and

the Capitoline, as the site of the first temple to Jupiter in Rome, had memories of Rome’s earliest

political and religious developments connected to them.”439 While the Capitoline was “‘the

center of Roman space’ because of its history, which included the hill’s role as the starting and

ending point for triumphal military processions”440 and the location of Rome’s first temple (Livy

1.10-4-7), it was the Palatine that became “a new focal point for religious ceremony in Augustus’

time.”441 Augustus’ building of the Temple of Jupiter Tonans442 and his possible placement of a

new hut of Romulus on the Capitoline represented an attempt “to maintain the role of the

437 Though the establishment of the Ara Maxima plays an important role in much Augustan literature, as in

Aeneid 8, Propertius 4.9, and Fasti 1.581-582, and the association of Hercules and Augustus seems to be a natural

one (as savior/founder figures), some scholars suggest that this association was not a strong one outside of literature.

Favro 1996: 153, for example, suggests that Augustus shied away from circular structures (associated with Hercules)

because of that god’s role as “alter ego of Antony.” Ulrich Huttner 1997 suggests that the association between

Augustus and Hercules is purely poetic invention, stressing that, while the poets frequently imply a connection

between the two, very little evidence from the artistic and historic records supports this connection. Moreover, terra

cotta plaques depicting Apollo fighting against Hercules appear in the Palatine complex (Favro 1996: 100),

suggesting that Augustus’ preferred deity – Apollo – was in fact fundamentally opposed to Hercules.

438 Coarelli 2007: 307-308.

439 Rea 2007: 4. Yet during the Republic, the Palatine was important more as a residential quarter than as a

religious center. “Atop the Capitoline hill rose Rome’s most important religious buildings, the temples to Jupiter

Optimus Maximus and Juno Moneta. Directly south, the Palatine evolved into a residential quarter for those rich

enough to own servants and slaves to carry water and provisions up the hill.” Favro 1996: 43.

440 Rea 2007: 44.

441 Rea 2007: 55.

442 Favro 1996: 106.

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Capitoline as a focal point in the early religious development in the city,”443 but this role was by

no means able to be maintained in the face of the changes that had occurred on the Palatine and

elsewhere. First, there were the statues commemorating early heroes and kings that the princeps

moved “with calculation…from the Capitoline to the expansive Campus Martius.”444 Zanker

states that “the most lavish structures were not those in the oldest sanctuaries or for the principal

gods of the old Republic, but rather for those most closely associated with Augustus: Apollo on

the Palatine and Mars Ultor in the new Forum of Augustus. These new temples could even rival

that of Jupiter Capitolinus...”445 Suetonius suggests that the way these lavish complexes, which

were personally connected to the princeps, drew attention away from the Capitoline and the

other Fora (including the Forum Boarium) did not go unnoticed by Jupiter himself.446 To add to

the insult, Jupiter Capitolinus even lost the Sibylline books to the Palatine Apollo (as discussed

above), and statues of summi viri were moved from the Capitoline to the Campus Martius (before

the new statues of summi viri were made for the Temple of Mars Ultor).447 Even activities that

had once centered upon the Capitoline were moved to other locations: triumphs were focalized

around the Forum Augustum, while the Ludi Saeculares, “the most important religious

ceremonies in over a century, gave almost as much importance to the Augustan enclave on the

443 Rea 2007: 55.

444 Favro 1996: 126.

445 Zanker 1988: 108.

446 Suet. Aug. 91.2.

447 Favro 1996: 126.

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Palatine as to the traditional Republican religious center on the Capitoline.”448 The Palatine,

then, became “a new urban node.”449

And yet Carmentis, being a representative of the Forum Boarium and the Capitoline hills,

is given more prominence in the Fasti than the Palatine Apollo and his Sibyl. She provides an

alternative to the “official” religious trends of her day, an alternative that points to the ancient,

sacred areas of Rome that had been so important in the Republic.

4. Carmentis and the Ideology of Imperial Divinity

Just as it is in the Metamorphoses, apotheosis is a significant and recurring theme in the

Fasti, and many episodes detail the deification of various gods and their establishment in the

Roman pantheon. This is, of course, an understandable characteristic in a poem about Roman

festival days and the rituals involved in various religious and social rites. From the traditional

and well-known apotheosis of Romulus (Fast. 2.475-512) to the less well-known apotheoses of

female figures who earned their godhood by being victims of rape, such as Lara (2.583-616) and

Flora (5.183-212), the Fasti explores the various types of and justifications for deification.

The Carmentis passages provide interesting viewpoints on apotheosis, as well, as they

encompass several instances of mortals transitioning to immortal status: that of Carmentis (Fast.

1.535 and 585-586), Livia (1.536), Hercules (1.583-584), and Ino/Mater Matuta (6.543-550).

Carmentis’ apotheosis makes sense in the context of an aetiological exploration of her festival,

448 Favro 1996: 203.

449 Favro 1996: 203. “Through new construction and careful reprogramming, this hill became both a viable

religious alternative to the Capitoline and a nascent bureaucratic center in counterpoint to the Forum Romanum.”

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the Carmentalia. But the apotheoses (whether actual or predicted) of Livia, Hercules, and Ino are

all unusual in their literary or political contexts.

“utque ego perpetuis olim sacrabor in aris,

sic Augusta novum Iulia numen erit.”

(Fast. 1.535-536)

“And as I will be worshipped on perpetual altars, so Julia Augusta will be a new

divinity.”

Herbert-Brown connects the effusive and explicit praise of Livia in the Fasti to Ovid’s changed

circumstances, suggesting that the post-exilic revisions of the Fasti explain a change in the way

Ovid refers to Livia: Livia is “invoked” four times, twice in “pre-exilic edition” (Fast. 5.157-8;

6.637-8) and twice in post-exilic (Fast. 1.536; 1.649-50); “her pre-exilic image is that of ‘Livia’,

model Roman wife and paragon of female Roman virtue. Her post-exilic image is that of Julia

Augusta, mother of the new ruler, consort of Jove and herself a goddess-in-the-making.”450

Herbert-Brown also suggests that Carmentis’ “deification” of Livia (or at least, the promise of

deification) is a dig at Tiberius: just as Carmentis is depicted in the Fasti as being greater than

her son Evander, so Livia can be read as greater than her son Tiberius (whose apotheosis is not

guaranteed in Ovid’s poetry, unlike Livia’s).451 In fact, Ovid grants to Livia the honors that

would eventually be denied her by Tiberius, who vetoed the deification that the Senate voted to

grant her after Augustus’ death.452

450 Herbert-Brown 1994: 130.

451 Herbert-Brown 1994: 159-162.

452 Herbert-Brown 1994: 169; Scott 1930: 64-65.

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Through Carmentis’ prophecy, Ovid effects that which Livia’s family had not yet been

able (or, in Tiberius’ case, willing) to effect: her deification. Pasco-Pranger interprets Carmentis

as a model for Livia’s divine honors, rather than the figure who grants the divine honors:

Carmenta offers herself as a model for the deification of Livia, whom she calls by the

honorific name granted after Augustus’ death, Julia Augusta. The festival itself is proof

of Carmenta’s deification…Ovid construes it as a guarantor of Livia’s as well…Ovid

thus reads the Carmentalia, in its juxtaposition with the Julio-Claudian celebration on the

13th, as a calendrical precedent and pattern to which the honors paid to the domus

Augusta can be matched.453

But the deification of Carmentis does not just model Livia’s deification; Carmentis is fashioned

as a figure whose words bring about the deification of other individuals and as a figure who

represents (Ovid’s) poetry. At least in hindsight, it is an impressive show of poetic power, and

one that treads on ideologically delicate ground. In the Metamorphoses, Ovid had accomplished

this by implying Livia’s deification through Hersilia; here in the Fasti, he uses Carmentis, his

poetic representative, as a “middlewoman.”

The apotheosis of Hercules provides interesting perspectives on the phenomenon of

deification, as well:

constituitque sibi, quae Maxima dicitur, aram

hic ubi pars Urbis de bove nomen habet.

nec tacet Evandri mater prope tempus adesse,

Hercule quo tellus sit satis usa suo.

(Fast. 1.581-584)

He established an altar to himself, which is called the Greatest here where the part of the

city has the name from “cow.” Nor does the mother of Evander keep silent that the time

is near, when the earth would be done with its Hercules.

Although we do not get to read of Hercules’ actual apotheosis, the placement of the Hercules and

Cacus narrative within the Carmentalia episode allows Carmentis to prophesy the event (a

453 Pasco-Pranger 2006: 191.

217

prophecy that Hercules’ position in the Roman pantheon validates). Its placement beside the

January 13th panegyric of Augustus has implications, as well. Pasco-Pranger sees in Hercules a

model for Augustus,454 and while Augustus’ iconographic distancing himself from Hercules

might argue against this reading,455 the placement of Hercules’ apotheosis beside the “Augustus”

passage is compelling indeed.456 Barchiesi elaborates on what the comparison between the two

figures means in this context:

“Hercules has founded a cult of himself in Rome: a procedure which appears to be

unusual in the context of normal religious aetiologies...it suggests the way in which a

contemporary witness might have seen the emperor-cult: a cult organized by the prince

himself, in his own lifetime, both as a reflection of his own glory and as the grounds for

his promotion to divine status...”457

According to Barchiesi, Hercules is a model for Augustus specifically here in the Fasti because

of his unique self-promotion to godhood (a facet not shared by other versions of Hercules’

deification, including Ovid’s at Met. 9.229-272). But what does this have to do with Carmentis?

Why is Hercules’ victory over Cacus manipulated to become part of the Carmentalia, when the

establishment of the Ara Maxima (to which Ovid connects the story at Fast. 1.581) had its

anniversary properly in August? There are, of course, several potential answers to these

questions, nor is it possible (or desirable) to pinpoint one “correct” one over the others.

However, it is safe to say that the placement of Hercules in the January complex of Julio-

Claudian holidays seems to ask for a parallel reading of the two major figures – Hercules and

454 Pasco-Pranger 2002: 191-192.

455 See note 437 above.

456 Not to mention the fact that some scholars have read Augustus into the Hercules episode of the Aeneid, as

well (see, e.g. Galinsky 1990).

457 Barchiesi 1997: 98.

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Augustus.458 More important for my purposes, however, is the way that the placement of the

apotheosis of Hercules within the episode about Carmentis and her prophetic power contributes

to a narrative thread that unites the Carmentis episodes from Books 1 and 6: Carmentis as not

just a prophet but as a goddess whose words – whose poetry – actually create gods from mortals.

“laeta canam: gaude, defuncta laboribus Ino,”

dixit “et huic populo prospera semper ades.

numen eris pelagi: natum quoque pontus habebit...

Leucothea Graeis, Matuta vocabere nostris...”

adnuerat, promissa fides; posuere labores,

nomina mutarunt: hic deus, illa dea est.

(Fast. 6.541-550)

“I shall sing of happy things. Rejoice, Ino, having completed your labors,”she said “and

always be present, propitious towards this people. You will be a goddess of the sea, the

sea also will hold your son...you will be called Leucothea by the Greeks, Matuta by our

people...” She nodded assent, her faithfulness was promised. They ended their labors,

they changed their names: he is a god, she is a goddess.

As I discussed above, the sudden conclusion (Fast. 6.549-550), coupled with the fact that

no agent is named in the actual deification of Ino and her son, makes it seem as though

Carmentis’ prophecy was more than just a prophecy; Carmentis’ words lead directly to the

fulfillment of these words.459 With this conclusion, Ovid closes the gap between prophet – she

who reports – and poet, she who creates (from the Greek poesis), completing Carmentis’

transformation from Vergil’s nympha and ancient goddess of childbirth and prophecy to dea of

the creative powers of poetry, through whom Ovid effects the metamorphosis of yet another

goddess, Ino.

458 This deviates from what other poets seem to do with Hercules, according to Marincic 2002:153: “…the very

fact that Augustus never promoted his connection with Hercules seems to imply that Horace and Vergil used

Hercules as a trans-political poetic paradigm...”

459 As Newlands 2000: 189 puts it, “A mere change in name confers on Ino and her son the climactic honour of

divine status.”

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Thus Carmentis has, through her words, ratified the godhood of herself, Livia, Hercules,

and Ino. Given how important apotheosis was in the political discourses of Ovid’s time, which

had seen two Caesars (Julius and Augustus) made gods, the way Ovid has fashioned Carmentis

into a mouthpiece for and initiator of apotheosis is quite compelling. And the ideological can of

worms that he opens with his predicted apotheosis of Livia explores one of the most

controversial political topics of his day. Carmentis, an otherwise minor goddess whose tradition

has been manipulated in ways that not only set her at odds with the dominant ideological

narrative of the time but also mark her as a representative of elegiac poetry, further challenges

that ideological narrative by becoming a voice with the power to give immortality: the voice of

poetry. In other words, Ovid makes Carmentis a goddess who is able to grant immortality just as

he makes her a representative of his own poetic voice, thereby commenting on his own ability to

influence posterity’s perception of human and divine figures alike. By setting Carmentis at odds

with prominent Augustan figures and ideologies, he opens the door to read Carmentis’ – and his

own – power to grant divinity alongside that of Augustus and his ideological program.

This claim that poetry can not only change events but also create gods echoes the self-

deification that Ovid accomplishes at the end of the Metamorphoses, where he privileges (via

climactic positioning) his own immortality (or at least, the immortality of his poetry) alongside

that of Romulus, Aeneas, and Augustus Caesar himself:

Iamque opus exegi, quod nec Iovis ira nec ignis

nec poterit ferrum nec edax abolere vetustas.

cum volet, illa dies, quae nil nisi corporis huius

ius habet, incerti spatium mihi finiat aevi:

parte tamen meliore mei super alta perennis

astra ferar, nomenque erit indelebile nostrum,

quaque patet domitis Romana potentia terris,

ore legar populi, perque omnia saecula fama,

siquid habent veri vatum praesagia, vivam.

(Met. 15.871-879)

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And now I have completed a work, which neither the anger of Jove nor fire nor iron nor

gnawing old age will be able to destroy. When it wishes, let that day, which has no

power except over this body, finish the span of my uncertain lifetime: nevertheless in the

better part of myself I shall be borne, everlasting, above the high stars, and my name will

be incapable of being erased, and wherever Rome’s power lies upon conquered lands, I

shall be spoken on the lips of the people, and through all ages in fame, if the prophecies

of poets have any truth in them, I shall live.

This ending passage of the Metamorphoses, dubbed the sphragis (“seal”), has been much

discussed by scholars, with regards to both its generic influences and its political implications.460

Most scholars agree that Ovid’s placement of his own apotheosis after that of Augustus, his

insistence that “I will live” (vivam, Met. 15.879), indicates a sort of rivalry with the princeps,

although some seek to downplay the potentially anti-Augustan sentiment of this rivalry or pass it

off as an (intentionally) unbelievable boast.461 Nevertheless, the boldness of the sentiment is

clear; indeed, for Fantham, “it seems most likely that these seven lines were only added as a coda

when the poet in exile had nothing more to lose and Augustus had gone to his immortal

destiny.”462 Ovid accomplishes a similar feat – deification – through the Carmentis of his Fasti,

although he uses the ancient Roman goddess as a “middlewoman,” thereby softening any

potential offense.

Thus Carmentis, a goddess seemingly created anew by Ovid and given a great deal of

prominence in contrast to her relatively minor role in other literature and iconography, comes to

represent not only the different view of “history” that Ovid’s elegiac poetry presents – with its

focus on the feminine, the obscure, and the exiled – but also the immortality that this different

460 Wickkiser 1999: 114 (n.4) provides a summary of this scholarship, as well as lists of the individual works.

461 For the former view, see Wickkiser 1999: 121 and Segal 2001: 204. For the latter view, see Glenn 1986: 204

and Solodow 1998: 191-2.

462 Fantham 1996: 120.

221

view can enjoy by virtue of its authorship. At Pont. 4.8.55, Ovid says, “Gods are made by

poems, too, if it is allowed to say so” (di quoque carminibus, si fas est dicere, fiunt). The

representation of Carmentis seeks to illustrate this claim.

222

CHAPTER V

CONCLUSION: CONNECTING THE DISCONNECTED

In a poem as episodic as the Fasti, whose episodes, moreover, are ostensibly connected

only by the demands of the calendar rather than by any sort of narrative or thematic consistency,

it might seem like a futile undertaking to try to read the episodes pertaining to particular

characters in a fluid manner, making them into a cohesive whole. And yet, in the case of Remus,

Hersilia, and Carmentis, such an intratextual reading (and intertextual, in the case of Hersilia)

yields interesting results. Indeed, with each of these characters, Ovid uses these disjointed

episodes to construct a narrative that promotes his alternative point of view on matters poetic and

political.

Remus appears at length in Books 2, 4, and 5. One of these episodes presents him as

involved in an event with which he has no prior (known) connection (the Lemuria), while the

other two (the cattle robbing at the Lupercalia and the death of Remus at the Parilia) present

versions of the story that diverge drastically from tradition. Indeed, given the limited

representation of Remus in the monuments of Ovid’s day, the poet must manipulate tradition in

order to make Remus as prominent as he does. To understand why Ovid chooses to make Remus

so prominent, we must look at the figure of Remus across episodes. Poetically, Remus gives

Ovid a chance to highlight one aspect of elegy, namely, lamentation. Through Remus, Ovid is

able to look at things not from the victor’s (i.e. Romulus’) perspective, but from the victim’s

perspective, to emphasize sorrow and loss and to question the view that painted the pain of the

civil wars as justified by the end result, i.e. the pax Augusta. Meanwhile, the Lupercalia episode

allows Ovid to present a playful re-telling of the historical version of the twins’ adolescence, one

that makes Romulus humorously inritus (Fast. 2.375).

223

But Ovid’s choices cannot be ascribed purely to generic influences. The contrast

between Ovid’s Remus and the Remus of Augustan Rome suggests that Ovid’s choices have

political import, as well. Viewing Remus across his episodes in the Fasti, we see that he is

fashioned as an alternative to Romulus. In Book 2, he is victorious in the search for the stolen

cattle, and appears as superior to his brother. In Book 4, the augury’s ambiguity is emphasized,

and Remus’ death becomes the result of the actions of the overly-hasty Celer rather than those of

Romulus, whose traditional physical superiority over his brother is thereby omitted. And in

Book 5, Remus emphasizes his equality to his brother, his identical worthiness for the purposes

of leadership. When considered in light of Romulus’ apotheosis, where Mars implies that either

of the twins would have been acceptable gods, this emphasis on Remus’ equality to Romulus

chips away at the rhetoric of destined apotheosis, whereby Romulus and Augustus were always

meant to be victorious over their peers and, in the end, become gods.

Hersilia, another character originally connected with Romulus, is similar to Remus in the

way her portrayal comments on generic and political issues, but she is dissimilar in that she has a

presence in both the Metamorphoses and the Fasti. Her apotheosis in the Metamorphoses not

only represents a feminine perspective on a typically masculine event (i.e. deification) but also

represents her as the typical elegiac lover, mourning the loss of her husband. Her representation

in the Fasti, on the other hand, is that of a woman with a pragmatic and militaristic mind, able to

effect change through calculated planning and persuasion. Her powerful representation, coupled

with the way Mars tries – and fails – to claim her feminine power for his own purposes, as well

as with the depiction of the rape of the Sabines as spurred on by anger rather than political

expediency, furthers Ovid’s elegiac viewpoint on historical (and therefore typically “masculine”)

events.

224

Her apotheosis in the Metamorphoses prods at the ideology of masculine apotheosis, as

well. Hersilia is the first human, Roman woman granted divinity in Roman history, and she is

granted divinity by Ovid, not by political process. Her identification with Livia, made easier by

the comparisons Ovid makes between the two, suggests that this deification is more than just

Ovid’s poetic experimentation; rather, it is a commentary on the exclusively masculine nature of

political apotheosis and a statement of Ovid’s own poetic power, to make a goddess where there

was not one before.

While Remus and Hersilia both are aligned with Ovids “elegiac” concerns, this alignment

occurs somewhat implicitly; Carmentis, on the other hand, is an explicit statement of these

concerns. Ovid derives her name from carmen, poetry, and associates her unequivocally with his

poetic project in the Fasti. He then gives her a voice beyond what she had been granted in other

sources and fashions that voice to sing exilic lamentation, a prophecy that rivals that of Vergil’s

Sibyl, and (though indirectly) a retelling of a historical event that echoes Ovid’s previous works

in its focus on abortion. Carmentis, then, is Ovid’s poetic representative; she also prophesies the

apotheoses of herself, Livia, Hercules, and Ino. Since the apotheoses of Carmentis, Hercules,

and Ino are confirmed by poetic hindsight, and the apotheosis of Livia is confirmed by historical

hindsight (though not while Ovid was alive!), Carmentis’ immortalizing abilities are impressive.

And given the political realities of Ovid’s time, namely, the fact that Livia had not yet been

deified and would not be for many years (after an initial denial of her honors by Tiberius), his

pre-emptive statement of Livia’s divinity is audacious indeed.

The three characters can be appreciated together, too. All three characters, through their

focus on lamentation or sexually graphic subject matter or feminine concerns in a masculine

realm, are advocates of Ovid’s particular brand of elegiac ingenuity. All three characters

225

question political ideologies of Ovid’s time: Remus questions the view of Romulus/Augustus as

unequivocal victor, Hersilia (and the rape of the Sabine women at large) questions the

“masculine” view of history that justified violence against women in political terms, and

Carmentis questions the moral legislation’s effectiveness in the view of subversive (feminine)

behavior. Most significantly, perhaps, all three characters play off of the ambiguities inherent in

the justifications for and mechanics of apotheosis: Remus suggests that he was as worthy of

divinity as his brother, Hersilia suggests that a woman is just as worthy of deification as a man

(and that this worth is derived mostly from her relationship with that man), and Carmentis

suggests that poetry can immortalize individuals just as well as politics can. Though Ovid had

already claimed this power for poetry in the sphragis of his Metamorphoses, where his own

immortalization appears as the culmination of the historical apotheoses of Julius Caesar and

Augustus, Carmentis, as an ancient goddess who is also a representative of Ovid’s poetry, is able

to bridge the gap between poetic and political power, allowing Ovid to predict Livia’s apotheosis

explicitly (since his prediction of Livia’s apotheosis in the Metamorphoses was done implicitly,

through the figure of Hersilia).

Thus an investigation of these three characters in comparison with their literary, social,

and historical contexts reveals that their frequent appearance in Ovid’s work is not a matter of

coincidence. Rather, their relative absence in other contexts allows Ovid to manipulate their

representations and fashion them into agents of his own poetic and political concerns.

The scholarly view that considered Ovid’s Fasti a faithful reflection of the Roman

calendar and its attendant religious rites has long since been debunked; we know now that Ovid’s

“calendar poem” is a rich work of poetic invention and adaptation, whose complexities can only

really be understood upon consideration of its social, literary, and artistic contexts. Needless to

226

say, the characters examined here are by no means the only figures through whom an

appreciation of Ovid’s poetic ars can be achieved. As with all of Ovid’s works, the more closely

we read the Fasti, the more there is to say about its provocative engagement with the literary and

political issues of its tempora.

227

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APPENDIX I.A – REMUS IN OVID

1. The Lupercalia (Fasti 2.359-422)

Adde peregrinis causas, mea Musa, Latinas,

inque suo noster pulvere currat equus. 360

cornipedi Fauno caesa de more capella

venit ad exiguas turba vocata dapes.

dumque sacerdotes veribus transuta salignis

exta parant, medias sole tenente vias,

Romulus et frater pastoralisque iuventus 365

solibus et campo corpora nuda dabant.

vectibus et iaculis et misso pondere saxi

bracchia per lusus experienda dabant:

pastor ab excelso 'per devia rura iuvencos,

Romule, praedones, et Reme', dixit 'agunt.' 370

longum erat armari: diversis exit uterque

partibus, occursu praeda recepta Remi.

ut rediit, veribus stridentia detrahit exta

atque ait 'haec certe non nisi victor edet.'

dicta facit, Fabiique simul. venit inritus illuc 375

Romulus et mensas ossaque nuda videt.

risit, et indoluit Fabios potuisse Remumque

vincere, Quintilios non potuisse suos.

forma manet facti: posito velamine currunt,

et memorem famam quod bene cessit habet. 380

Forsitan et quaeras cur sit locus ille Lupercal,

quaeve diem tali nomine causa notet.

Silvia Vestalis caelestia semina partu

ediderat, patruo regna tenente suo;

is iubet auferri parvos et in amne necari: 385

quid facis? ex istis Romulus alter erit.

iussa recusantes peragunt lacrimosa ministri

(flent tamen) et geminos in loca sola ferunt.

Albula, quem Tiberim mersus Tiberinus in undis

reddidit, hibernis forte tumebat aquis: 390

hic, ubi nunc fora sunt, lintres errare videres,

quaque iacent valles, Maxime Circe, tuae.

huc ubi venerunt (neque enim procedere possunt

longius), ex illis unus et alter ait:

'at quam sunt similes! at quam formosus uterque! 395

plus tamen ex illis iste vigoris habet.

si genus arguitur voltu, nisi fallit imago,

nescioquem in vobis suspicor esse deum.

at siquis vestrae deus esset originis auctor,

in tam praecipiti tempore ferret opem: 400

ferret opem certe, si non ope, mater, egeret,

quae facta est uno mater et orba die.

nata simul, moritura simul, simul ite sub undas

corpora.' desierat, deposuitque sinu.

241

vagierunt ambo pariter: sensisse putares; 405

hi redeunt udis in sua tecta genis.

sustinet impositos summa cavus alveus unda:

heu quantum fati parva tabella tulit!

alveus in limo silvis adpulsus opacis

paulatim fluvio deficiente sedet. 410

arbor erat: remanent vestigia, quaeque vocatur

Rumina nunc ficus Romula ficus erat.

venit ad expositos, mirum, lupa feta gemellos:

quis credat pueris non nocuisse feram?

non nocuisse parum est, prodest quoque. quos lupa nutrit, 415

perdere cognatae sustinuere manus.

constitit et cauda teneris blanditur alumnis,

et fingit lingua corpora bina sua.

Marte satos scires: timor abfuit. ubera ducunt

nec sibi promissi lactis aluntur ope. 420

illa loco nomen fecit, locus ipse Lupercis;

magna dati nutrix praemia lactis habet.

Add463 Roman reasons, my Muse, to foreign ones, and let my charger race his own dusty course. A she-

goat was sacrificed to cloven Faunus, as usual, and a crowd had been invited to the scanty feast. While

the priests prepared the entrails, on willow spits, the sun being then at the zenith of it course, Romulus

and his brother, and the shepherd youths, exercised their naked bodies on the sunlit plain: trying the

strength of their arms in sport, with levers, javelins, or hurling heavy stones. A shepherd shouted from

the heights: ‘Romulus, Remus, thieves are driving the bullocks off through the wasteland.’ It would have

taken too long to arm: they took opposite directions: and meeting them Remus re-took their prize.

Returning he drew the hissing entrails from the spits, saying: ‘No one but the victor shall eat of these.’

As he said, so he and the Fabii did. Romulus returned, unsuccessful, finding the empty table and bare

bones. He laughed and grieved that Remus and the Fabii, should have conquered, where his own

Quintilii could not. The tale of that deed endures: they run stark naked, and the success achieved enjoyed

a lasting fame. You might also ask why that cave is called the Lupercal, and the reason for giving the day

such a name. Silvia, a Vestal, had given birth to divine children, at the time when her uncle held the

throne. He ordered the infants taken and drowned in the river: what was he doing? One of the two was

Romulus. Reluctantly his servants obeyed the sad command (though they wept) and took the twins to the

appointed place. It chanced that the Albula, called Tiber from Tiberinus drowned in its waves, was

swollen with winter rain: you could see boats drifting where the fora are, and where your valleys lie,

Circus Maximus. When the servants arrived there (since they were unable to go further), one of them

said: ‘How alike they are, how beautiful each of them is! Yet of the two this one is the more vigorous. If

nobility is seen in the face, unless I’m wrong, I suspect that there’s some god within you – yet if some

god were the author of your being, he’d bring you aid at such a perilous time: your mother would surely

bring help if she could, who has borne and lost her children in one day: born together, to die together,

pass together beneath the waves!’ He finished and set them down. Both squalled alike: you’d have

thought they knew. The servants returned with tears on their cheeks. The hollow trough, where the boys

were laid, floated on the water, how great a fate the little ark carried! It drifted onwards towards a

shadowy wood, and gradually settled where the depth lessened. There was a tree: traces remain, which is

now called the Rumina fig, once Romulus’ fig tree. A she-wolf, newly delivered, (miraculously!) found

the abandoned twins, who would have thought the creature would not harm them? Far from harming

463 Translations of all Remus passages in this appendix are taken from

http://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/Fastihome.htm

242

them she helped them: and a wolf fed those whom their kin would have allowed to perish. She stayed,

caressed the tender infants with her tail, and licked their bodies with her tongue. You might know they

were sons of Mars: without fear they sucked her teats and the milk not meant for them. She gave her

name to the place: and the place to the Luperci. The nurse has a great reward for the milk she gave.

2. The Parilia (Fasti 4.721-862)

Description of the ritual

Nox abiit, oriturque aurora: Parilia poscor;

non poscor frustra, si favet alma Pales.

alma Pales, faveas pastoria sacra canenti,

prosequor officio si tua festa meo.

certe ego de vitulo cinerem stipulasque fabales 725

saepe tuli plena, februa tosta, manu;

certe ego transilui positas ter in ordine flammas,

udaque roratas laurea misit aquas.

mota dea est, operique favet. navalibus exit

puppis; habent ventos iam mea vela suos. 730

i, pete virginea, populus, suffimen ab ara;

Vesta dabit, Vestae munere purus eris.

sanguis equi suffimen erit vitulique favilla,

tertia res durae culmen inane fabae.

pastor, oves saturas ad prima crepuscula lustra: 735

unda prius spargat, virgaque verrat humum;

frondibus et fixis decorentur ovilia ramis,

et tegat ornatas longa corona fores.

caerulei fiant puro de sulpure fumi,

tactaque fumanti sulpure balet ovis. 740

ure mares oleas taedamque herbasque Sabinas,

et crepet in mediis laurus adusta focis;

libaque de milio milii fiscella sequatur:

rustica praecipue est hoc dea laeta cibo.

adde dapes mulctramque suas, dapibusque resectis 745

silvicolam tepido lacte precare Palem.

'consule' dic 'pecori pariter pecorisque magistris:

effugiat stabulis noxa repulsa meis.

sive sacro pavi, sedive sub arbore sacra,

pabulaque e bustis inscia carpsit ovis; 750

si nemus intravi vetitum, nostrisve fugatae

sunt oculis nymphae semicaperque deus;

si mea falx ramo lucum spoliavit opaco,

unde data est aegrae fiscina frondis ovi,

da veniam culpae: nec, dum degrandinat, obsit 755

agresti fano subposuisse pecus.

nec noceat turbasse lacus: ignoscite, nymphae,

mota quod obscuras ungula fecit aquas.

tu, dea, pro nobis fontes fontanaque placa

numina, tu sparsos per nemus omne deos. 760

nec dryadas nec nos videamus labra Dianae

243

nec Faunum, medio cum premit arva die.

pelle procul morbos; valeant hominesque gregesque,

et valeant vigiles, provida turba, canes.

neve minus multos redigam quam mane fuerunt, 765

neve gemam referens vellera rapta lupo.

absit iniqua fames: herbae frondesque supersint,

quaeque lavent artus quaeque bibantur aquae.

ubera plena premam, referat mihi caseus aera,

dentque viam liquido vimina rara sero; 770

sitque salax aries, conceptaque semina coniunx

reddat, et in stabulo multa sit agna meo;

lanaque proveniat nullas laesura puellas,

mollis et ad teneras quamlibet apta manus.

quae precor, eveniant, et nos faciamus ad annum 775

pastorum dominae grandia liba Pali.'

his dea placanda est: haec tu conversus ad ortus

dic quater et vivo perlue rore manus.

tum licet adposita, veluti cratere, camella

lac niveum potes purpureamque sapam; 780

moxque per ardentes stipulae crepitantis acervos

traicias celeri strenua membra pede.

Aetiology of the Ritual

expositus mos est; moris mihi restat origo:

turba facit dubium coeptaque nostra tenet.

omnia purgat edax ignis vitiumque metallis 785

excoquit: idcirco cum duce purgat oves?

an, quia cunctarum contraria semina rerum

sunt duo discordes, ignis et unda, dei,

iunxerunt elementa patres, aptumque putarunt

ignibus et sparsa tangere corpus aqua? 790

an, quod in his vitae causa est, haec perdidit exul,

his nova fit coniunx, haec duo magna putant?

vix equidem credo: sunt qui Phaethonta referri

credant et nimias Deucalionis aquas.

pars quoque, cum saxis pastores saxa feribant, 795

scintillam subito prosiluisse ferunt;

prima quidem periit, stipulis excepta secunda est:

hoc argumentum flamma Parilis habet?

an magis hunc morem pietas Aeneia fecit,

innocuum victo cui dedit ignis iter? 800

num tamen est vero propius, cum condita Roma est,

transferri iussos in nova tecta Lares,

mutantesque domum tectis agrestibus ignem

et cessaturae subposuisse casae,

per flammas saluisse pecus, saluisse colonos? 805

quod fit natali nunc quoque, Roma, tuo.

244

Rome’s birthday and the death of Remus

ipse locum casus vati facit: Urbis origo

venit; ades factis, magne Quirine, tuis.

iam luerat poenas frater Numitoris, et omne

pastorum gemino sub duce volgus erat; 810

contrahere agrestes et moenia ponere utrique

convenit: ambigitur moenia ponat uter.

'nil opus est' dixit 'certamine' Romulus 'ullo;

magna fides avium est: experiamur aves.'

res placet: alter init nemorosi saxa Palati; 815

alter Aventinum mane cacumen init.

sex Remus, hic volucres bis sex videt ordine; pacto

statur, et arbitrium Romulus urbis habet.

apta dies legitur qua moenia signet aratro:

sacra Palis suberant; inde movetur opus. 820

fossa fit ad solidum, fruges iaciuntur in ima

et de vicino terra petita solo;

fossa repletur humo, plenaeque imponitur ara,

et novus accenso fungitur igne focus.

inde premens stivam designat moenia sulco; 825

alba iugum niveo cum bove vacca tulit.

vox fuit haec regis: 'condenti, Iuppiter, urbem,

et genitor Mavors Vestaque mater, ades,

quosque pium est adhibere deos, advertite cuncti:

auspicibus vobis hoc mihi surgat opus. 830

longa sit huic aetas dominaeque potentia terrae,

sitque sub hac oriens occiduusque dies.'

ille precabatur, tonitru dedit omina laevo

Iuppiter, et laevo fulmina missa polo.

augurio laeti iaciunt fundamina cives, 835

et novus exiguo tempore murus erat.

hoc Celer urget opus, quem Romulus ipse vocarat,

'sint' que, 'Celer, curae' dixerat 'ista tuae,

neve quis aut muros aut factam vomere fossam

transeat; audentem talia dede neci.' 840

quod Remus ignorans humiles contemnere muros

coepit, et 'his populus' dicere 'tutus erit?'

nec mora, transiluit: rutro Celer occupat ausum;

ille premit duram sanguinulentus humum.

haec ubi rex didicit, lacrimas introrsus obortas 845

devorat et clausum pectore volnus habet.

flere palam non volt exemplaque fortia servat,

'sic' que 'meos muros transeat hostis' ait.

dat tamen exsequias; nec iam suspendere fletum

sustinet, et pietas dissimulata patet; 850

osculaque adplicuit posito suprema feretro,

atque ait 'invito frater adempte, vale',

arsurosque artus unxit: fecere, quod ille,

Faustulus et maestas Acca soluta comas.

tum iuvenem nondum facti flevere Quirites; 855

245

ultima plorato subdita flamma rogo est.

urbs oritur (quis tunc hoc ulli credere posset?)

victorem terris impositura pedem.

cuncta regas et sis magno sub Caesare semper,

saepe etiam plures nominis huius habe; 860

et, quotiens steteris domito sublimis in orbe,

omnia sint umeris inferiora tuis.

The night has gone: dawn breaks. I’m called upon to sing of the Parilia, and not in vain if kindly Pales

aids me. Kindly Pales, if I respect your festival, then aid me as I sing of pastoral rites. Indeed, I’ve often

brought ashes of a calf, and stalks of beans, in chaste purification, in my full hands: indeed, I’ve leapt the

threefold line of flames, and the wet laurel’s sprinkled me with dew. The goddess, moved, blesses the

work: my ship sets sail: may favourable winds fill my sails. Go, people: bring fumigants from the

Virgin’s altar: Vesta will grant them, Vesta’s gift will purify. The fumigants are horse blood and calf’s

ashes, and thirdly the stripped stalks of stringy beans. Shepherd, purify your sated sheep at twilight: first

sprinkle the ground with water, and sweep it, and decorate the sheepfold with leaves and branches, and

hide the festive door with a trailing garland. Make dark smoke with pure burning sulphur, and let the

sheep bleat, in contact with the smoke. Burn male-olive wood, and pine, and juniper fronds, and let

scorched laurel crackle in the hearth. Let a basket of millet keep the millet cakes company: the rural

goddess particularly loves that food. Add meats, and a pail of her milk, and when the meat is cut, offer

the warm milk, pray to sylvan Pales, saying: ‘Protect the cattle and masters alike: and drive everything

harmful from my stalls. If I’ve fed sheep on sacred ground, sat under a sacred tree, while they’ve

unwittingly browsed the grass on graves: if I’ve entered a forbidden grove, or the nymphs and the god,

half-goat, have fled at sight of me: if my knife has pruned the copse of a shady bough, to fill a basket of

leaves for a sick ewe: forgive me. Don’t count it against me, if I’ve sheltered my flock, while it hailed, in

some rustic shrine, don’t harm me for troubling the pools. Nymphs, forgive, if trampling hooves have

muddied your waters. Goddess, placate the springs, and placate their divinities on our behalf, and the

gods too, scattered in every grove. Let us not gaze on Dryads, or on Diana bathing, nor on Faunus, as he

lies in the fields at noon. Drive off disease: let men and beasts be healthy, and healthy the vigilant pack

of wakeful dogs. May I drive back as many sheep as dawn revealed, nor sigh returning with fleeces

snatched from the wolves. Avert dire famine: let leaves and grass be abundant, and water to wash the

body, water to drink. May I press full udders, may my cheeses bring me money, may the wicker sieve

strain my liquid whey. And let the ram be lusty, his mate conceive and bear, and may there be many a

lamb in my fold. And let the wool prove soft, not scratch the girls, let it everywhere be kind to gentle

hands. Let my prayer be granted, and every year we’ll make huge cakes for Pales, mistress of the

shepherds.’ Please the goddess in this way: four times, facing east, say these words, and wash your hands

with fresh dew. Then set a wooden dish, to be your mixing bowl, and drink the creamy milk and the

purple must: then leap, with nimble feet and straining thighs over the crackling heaps of burning straw.

I’ve set forth the custom: I must still tell of its origin: but many explanations cause me doubt, and hold me

back. Greedy fire devours all things, and melts away the dross from metals: the same method cleans

shepherd and sheep? Or is it because all things are formed of two opposing powers, fire and water, and

our ancestors joined these elements, and thought fit to touch their bodies with fire and sprinkled water?

Or did they think the two so powerful, because they contain the source of life: denied to the exile, it

makes the new bride? I can scarce believe it, but some consider it refers to Phaethon, and to Deucalion’s

flood. Some say, too, that once when shepherds struck stones together, a spark suddenly leapt out: the

first died, but the second set fire to straw: is that the basis for the fires of the Parilia? Or is the custom due

rather to Aeneas’ piety, to whom the fire gave safe passage, in defeat? Or is this nearer the truth, that

when Rome was founded, they were commanded to move the Lares to their new homes, and changing

homes the farmers set fire to the houses, and to the cottages they were about to abandon, they and their

cattle leaping through the flames, as happens even now on Rome’s birthday?

246

That subject itself furnishes an opportunity for the poet. We have come to the City’s founding. Great

Quirinus, witness your deeds! Amulius had already been punished, and all the shepherd folk were subject

to the twins, who agreed to gather the men together to build walls: the question was as to which of them

should do it. Romulus said: ‘There’s no need to fight about it: great faith is placed in birds, let’s judge by

birds.’ That seemed fine. One tried the rocks of the wooded Palatine, the other climbed at dawn to the

Aventine’s summit. Remus saw six birds, Romulus twelve in succession. They stuck to the pact, and

Romulus was granted the City. A day was chosen for him to mark out the walls with a plough. The

festival of Pales was at hand: the work was started then. They trenched to the solid rock, threw fruits of

the harvest into its depths, with soil from the ground nearby. The ditch was filled with earth, and topped

by an altar, and a fire was duly kindled on the new-made hearth. Then, bearing down on the plough

handle, he marked the walls: the yoke was borne by a white cow and a snowy ox. So spoke the king: ‘Be

with me, as I found my City, Jupiter, Father Mavors, and Mother Vesta: and all you gods, whom piety

summons, take note. Let my work be done beneath your auspices. May it last long, and rule a conquered

world, all subject, from the rising to the setting day.’ Jupiter added his omen to Romulus’ prayer, with

thunder on the left, and his lightning flashed leftward in the sky. Delighted by this, the citizens laid

foundations, and the new walls were quickly raised. The work was overseen by Celer, whom Romulus

named, saying: ‘Celer, make it your care to see no one crosses walls or trench that we’ve ploughed: kill

whoever dares.’ Remus, unknowingly, began to mock the low walls, saying: ‘Will the people be safe

behind these?’ He leapt them, there and then. Celer struck the rash man with his shovel: Remus sank,

bloodied, to the stony ground. When the king heard, he smothered his rising tears, and kept the grief

locked in his heart. He wouldn’t weep in public, but set an example of fortitude, saying: ‘So dies the

enemy who shall cross my walls.’ But he granted him funeral honours, and couldn’t hold back his tears,

and the love he tried to hide was obvious. When they set down the bier, he gave it a last kiss, and said:

‘Farewell, my brother, taken against my will!’ And he anointed the body for burning. Faustulus, and

Acca, her hair loosened in mourning, did as he did. Then the as yet unnamed Quirites wept for the youth:

and finally the pyre, wet by their tears, was lit. A city arose, destined (who’d have believed it then?) to

plant its victorious foot upon all the lands. Rule all, and be ever subject to mighty Caesar, and may you

often own to many of that name: and as long as you stand, sublime, in a conquered world, may all others

fail to reach your shoulders.

3. The Lemuria (Fasti 5.419-492)

Hinc ubi protulerit formosa ter Hesperos ora,

ter dederint Phoebo sidera victa locum, 420

ritus erit veteris, nocturna Lemuria, sacri:

inferias tacitis manibus illa dabunt.

annus erat brevior, nec adhuc pia februa norant,

nec tu dux mensum, Iane biformis, eras:

iam tamen exstincto cineri sua dona ferebant, 425

compositique nepos busta piabat avi.

mensis erat Maius, maiorum nomine dictus,

qui partem prisci nunc quoque moris habet.

nox ubi iam media est somnoque silentia praebet,

et canis et variae conticuistis aves, 430

ille memor veteris ritus timidusque deorum

surgit (habent gemini vincula nulla pedes),

signaque dat digitis medio cum pollice iunctis,

247

occurrat tacito ne levis umbra sibi.

cumque manus puras fontana perluit unda, 435

vertitur et nigras accipit ante fabas,

aversusque iacit; sed dum iacit, 'haec ego mitto,

his' inquit 'redimo meque meosque fabis.'

hoc novies dicit nec respicit: umbra putatur

colligere et nullo terga vidente sequi. 440

rursus aquam tangit, Temesaeaque concrepat aera,

et rogat ut tectis exeat umbra suis.

cum dixit novies 'manes exite paterni'

respicit, et pure sacra peracta putat.

dicta sit unde dies, quae nominis exstet origo 445

me fugit: ex aliquo est invenienda deo.

Pliade nate, mone, virga venerande potenti:

saepe tibi est Stygii regia visa Iovis.

venit adoratus Caducifer. accipe causam

nominis: ex ipso est cognita causa deo. 450

Romulus ut tumulo fraternas condidit umbras,

et male veloci iusta soluta Remo,

Faustulus infelix et passis Acca capillis

spargebant lacrimis ossa perusta suis;

inde domum redeunt sub prima crepuscula maesti, 455

utque erat, in duro procubuere toro.

umbra cruenta Remi visa est adsistere lecto,

atque haec exiguo murmure verba loqui:

'en ego dimidium vestri parsque altera voti,

cernite sim qualis, qui modo qualis eram! 460

qui modo, si volucres habuissem regna iubentes,

in populo potui maximus esse meo,

nunc sum elapsa rogi flammis et inanis imago:

haec est ex illo forma relicta Remo.

heu ubi Mars pater est? si vos modo vera locuti, 465

uberaque expositis ille ferina dedit.

quem lupa servavit, manus hunc temeraria civis

perdidit. o quanto mitior illa fuit!

saeve Celer, crudelem animam per volnera reddas,

utque ego, sub terras sanguinulentus eas. 470

noluit hoc frater, pietas aequalis in illo est:

quod potuit, lacrimas in mea fata dedit.

hunc vos per lacrimas, per vestra alimenta rogate

ut celebrem nostro signet honore diem.'

mandantem amplecti cupiunt et bracchia tendunt: 475

lubrica prensantes effugit umbra manus.

ut secum fugiens somnos abduxit imago,

ad regem voces fratris uterque ferunt.

Romulus obsequitur, lucemque Remuria dicit

illam, qua positis iusta feruntur avis. 480

aspera mutata est in lenem tempore longo

littera, quae toto nomine prima fuit;

mox etiam lemures animas dixere silentum:

hic sensus verbi, vis ea vocis erat.

248

fana tamen veteres illis clausere diebus, 485

ut nunc ferali tempore operta vides;

nec viduae taedis eadem nec virginis apta

tempora: quae nupsit, non diuturna fuit.

hac quoque de causa, si te proverbia tangunt,

mense malas Maio nubere volgus ait. 490

sed tamen haec tria sunt sub eodem tempore festa

inter se nulla continuata die.

When Hesperus, the Evening Star, has shown his lovely face three times, from that day, and the defeated

stars fled Phoebus, it will be the ancient sacred rites of the Lemuria, when we make offerings to the

voiceless spirits. The year was once shorter, the pious rites of purification, februa, were unknown, nor

were you, two-faced Janus, leader of the months: yet they still brought gifts owed to the ashes of the dead,

the grandson paid respects to his buried grandfather’s tomb. It was May month, named for our ancestors

(maiores), and a relic of the old custom still continues. When midnight comes, lending silence to sleep,

and all the dogs and hedgerow birds are quiet, he who remembers ancient rites, and fears the gods, rises

(no fetters binding his two feet) and makes the sign with thumb and closed fingers, lest an insubstantial

shade meets him in the silence. After cleansing his hands in spring water, he turns and first taking some

black beans, throws them with averted face: saying, while throwing: ‘with these beans I throw I redeem

me and mine.’ He says this nine times without looking back: the shade is thought to gather the beans, and

follow behind, unseen. Again he touches water, and sounds the Temesan bronze, and asks the spirit to

leave his house. When nine times he’s cried, ‘Ancestral spirit, depart,’ he looks back, and believes the

sacred rite’s fulfilled. Why the day’s so called, and the origin of the name, escapes me: that’s for some

god to discover. Mercury, son of the Pleiad, explain it to me, by your potent wand: you’ve often seen

Stygian Jove’s halls. The caduceus-bearer came, at my prayer. Learn then, the reason for the name: the

god himself revealed it. When Romulus had sunk his brother’s spirit in the grave, and justice was done to

the over-hasty Remus, the wretched Faustulus, and Acca with streaming hair, sprinkled the calcined

bones with their tears. Then at twilight they returned home grieving, and flung themselves on the hard

couch, just as it lay. The bloodstained ghost of Remus seemed to stand by the bed, speaking these words

in a faint murmur: ‘Behold, I who was half, the other part of your care, see what I am, and know what I

was once! If the birds had signalled the throne was mine, I might have been highest, ruling over the

people, now I’m an empty phantom, gliding from the fire: that is what remains of Remus’ form! Ah,

where is Mars, my father? If you once spoke the truth, it was he who sent us the she-wolf’s teats. The

rash hand of a citizen undid what the wolf saved. O how gentle she was in comparison! Savage Celer,

wounded, may you yield your cruel spirit, and bloodstained as I am, sink beneath the earth. My brother

never wished it: his love equals mine: he offered, at my death, all he could, his tears. Beg him by your

weeping, by your nurturing, to signal a day of celebration in my honour.’ They stretched out their arms at

this, longing to embrace him, but the fleeting shade escaped their clutching hands. When the phantom

fleeing dispelled their sleep, they both told the king of his brother’s words. Romulus, complying, called

that day the Remuria, when reverence is paid our buried ancestors. Over time the harsh consonant at the

beginning of the name was altered into a soft one: and soon the silent spirits were called Lemures too:

that’s the meaning of the word, that’s its force. And the ancients closed the temples on these days, as you

see them shut still at the season of the dead. It’s a time when it’s not suitable for widows or virgins to

wed: she who marries then won’t live long. And if you attend to proverbs, then, for that reason too,

people say unlucky women wed in the month of May. Though these three festivals fall at the same time,

they are not observed on three consecutive days.

249

APPENDIX I.B – OTHER SOURCES ON REMUS

1. Ennius – the augury (Annales 72-91 Skutsch)

Curantes magna cum cura tum cupientes 72

Regni dant operam simul auspicio augurioque.

In monte Remus auspicio sedet atque secundam

Solus avem servat. at Romulus pulcer in alto

Quaerit Aventino, servat genus altivolantum. 85

Certabant urbem Romam Remoramne vocarent.

Omnibus cura viris uter esset induperator.

Expectant vel uti, consul cum mittere signum

Volt, omnes avidi spectant ad carceris oras,

Quam mox emittat pictis e faucibus currus: 90

Sic expectabat populus atque ora tenebat

Rebus, utri magni victoria sit data regni.

Interea sol albus recessit in infera noctis.

Exin candida se radiis dedit icta foras lux.

Et simul ex alto longe pulcherruma praepes 95

Laeva volavit avis: simul aureus exoritur sol.

Cedunt de caelo ter quattor corpora sancta

Avium, praepetibus sese pulchrisque locis dant.

Conspicit inde sibi data Romulus esse priora,

Auspicio regni stabilita scamna locumque.

With great care then, in their eagerness for rule, they set about taking the auspices. Remus takes up his

seat †on the hill for his auspicate and in isolation awaits the arrival of the birds of omen. Handsome

Romulus for his part seeks reply on the lofty Aventine, awaiting the arrival of birds on the wing. They

were settling by contest whether to call the city Roma or Remora. The entire population is anxious to

know who would be leader. They wait as when the consul is about to give the signal and all direct their

gazes eagerly at the gates of the starting-post, to see how soon it will release the painted chariots from its

maw: just so did the people wait and show their apprehension for the future on their faces, in their anxiety

to know to which of the two the victory of great rule would be given. In the meantime, the gleaming sun

retreated to the night below. And then bright light, struck forth, revealed itself by the sun’s beams, and at

that moment from afar on high a most handsome swift flock flew by on the left. As soon as the golden

sun arose, there make their way from the sky thrice four holy birds and disport themselves in fine lofty

places. And so Romulus gathered that to him was given, as his own possession, kingship’s seat

and territory, established by the omen.464

2. Dionysius of Halicarnassus – Antiquitates Romanae I.79.4-I.87

79 [4] περὶ δὲ τῶν ἐκ τῆς Ἰλίας γενομένων Κόιντος μὲν Φάβιος ὁ Πίκτωρ λεγόμενος, ᾧ Λεύκιός τε

Κίγκιος καὶ Κάτων Πόρκιος καὶ Πείσων Καλπούρνιος καὶ τῶν ἄλλων συγγραφέων οἱ πλείους

ἠκολούθησαν, γέγραφε: ὡς κελεύσαντος Ἀμολίου τὰ βρέφη λαβόντες ἐν σκάφῃ κείμενα τῶν ὑπηρετῶν

464 Translation from Jackie Elliott’s “Space and Geography in Ennius’ Annales

250

τινες ἔφερον ἐμβαλοῦντες εἰς τὸν ποταμὸν ἀπέχοντα τῆς πόλεως ἀμφὶ τοὺς ἑκατὸν εἴκοσι σταδίους. [5]

ἐπεὶ δὲ ἐγγὺς ἐγένοντο καὶ εἶδον ἔξω τοῦ γνησίου ῥείθρου τὸν Τέβεριν ὑπὸ χειμώνων συνεχῶν

ἐκτετραμμένον εἰς τὰ πεδία, καταβάντες ἀπὸ τοῦ Παλλαντίου τῆς κορυφῆς ἐπὶ τὸ προσεχέστατον ὕδωρ,

῾οὐ γὰρ ἔτι προσωτέρω χωρεῖν οἷοίτε ἦσαν᾽ ἔνθα πρῶτον ἡ τοῦ ποταμοῦ πλήμη τῆς ὑπωρείας ἥπτετο,

τίθενται τὴν σκάφην ἐπὶ τοῦ ὕδατος. ἡ δὲ μέχρι μέν τινος ἐνήχετο, ἔπειτα τοῦ ῥείθρου κατὰ μικρὸν

ὑποχωροῦντος ἐκ τῶν περὶ ἔσχατα λίθου προσπταίσει περιτραπεῖσα ἐκβάλλει τὰ βρέφη. [6] τὰ μὲν δὴ

κνυζούμενα κατὰ τοῦ τέλματος ἐκυλινδεῖτο, λύκαινα δέ τις ἐπιφανεῖσα νεοτόκος σπαργῶσα τοὺς μαστοὺς

ὑπὸ γάλακτος ἀνεδίδου τὰς θηλὰς τοῖς στόμασιν αὐτῶν καὶ τῇ γλώττῃ τὸν πηλόν, ᾧ κατάπλεοι ἦσαν,

ἀπελίχμα. ἐν δὲ τούτῳ τυγχάνουσιν οἱ νομεῖς ἐξελαύνοντες τὰς ἀγέλας ἐπὶ νομήν ῾ἤδη γὰρ ἐμβατὸν ἦν τὸ

χωρίον᾽ καί τις αὐτῶν ἰδὼν τὴν λύκαιναν ὡς ἠσπάζετο τὰ βρέφη τέως μὲν ἀχανὴς ἦν ὑπό τε θάμβους καὶ

ἀπιστίας τῶν θεωρουμένων: ἔπειτ᾽ ἀπελθὼν καὶ συλλέξας ὅσους ἐδύνατο πλείστους τῶν ἀγχοῦ νεμόντων

῾οὐ γὰρ ἐπιστεύετο λέγων᾽ ἄγει τοὖργον αὐτὸ θεασομένους. [7] ὡς δὲ κἀκεῖνοι πλησίον ἐλθόντες ἔμαθον

τὴν μὲν ὥσπερ τέκνα περιέπουσαν, τὰ δ᾽ ὡς μητρὸς ἐξεχόμενα, δαιμόνιόν τι χρῆμα ὁρᾶν ὑπολαβόντες

ἐγγυτέρω προσῄεσαν ἀθρόοι δεδιττόμενοι βοῇ τὸ θηρίον. ἡ δὲ λύκαινα οὐ μάλα ἀγριαίνουσα τῶν

ἀνθρώπων τῇ προσόδῳ, ἀλλ᾽ ὡσπερὰν χειροήθης ἀποστᾶσα τῶν βρεφῶν ἠρέμα καὶ κατὰ πολλὴν ἀλογίαν

τοῦ ποιμενικοῦ [8] ὁμίλου ἀπῄει. καὶ ἦν γάρ τις οὐ πολὺ ἀπέχων ἐκεῖθεν ἱερὸς χῶρος ὕλῃ βαθείᾳ

συνηρεφὴς καὶ πέτρα κοίλη πηγὰς ἀνιεῖσα, ἐλέγετο δὲ Πανὸς εἶναι τὸ νάπος, καὶ βωμὸς ἦν αὐτόθι τοῦ

θεοῦ: εἰς τοῦτο τὸ χωρίον ἐλθοῦσα ἀποκρύπτεται. τὸ μὲν οὖν ἄλσος οὐκέτι διαμένει, τὸ δὲ ἄντρον, ἐξ οὗ

ἡ λιβὰς ἐκδίδοται, τῷ Παλλαντίῳ προσῳκοδομημένον δείκνυται κατὰ τὴν ἐπὶ τὸν ἱππόδρομον φέρουσαν

ὁδόν, καὶ τέμενός ἐστιν αὐτοῦ πλησίον, ἔνθα εἰκὼν κεῖται τοῦ πάθους λύκαινα παιδίοις δυσὶ τοὺς

μαστοὺς ἐπίσχουσα, χαλκᾶ ποιήματα παλαιᾶς ἐργασίας. ἦν δὲ τὸ χωρίον τῶν σὺν Εὐάνδρῳ ποτὲ

οἰκισάντων αὐτὸ Ἀρκάδων ἱερὸν ὡς λέγεται. [9] ὡς δὲ ἀπέστη τὸ θηρίον αἴρουσιν οἱ νομεῖς τὰ βρέφη

σπουδὴν ποιούμενοι τρέφειν ὡς θεῶν αὐτὰ σώζεσθαι βουλομένων. ἦν δέ τις ἐν αὐτοῖς συοφορβίων

βασιλικῶν ἐπιμελούμενος ἐπιεικὴς ἀνὴρ Φαιστύλος ὄνομα, ὃς ἐν τῇ πόλει κατὰ δή τι ἀναγκαῖον ἐγεγόνει

καθ᾽ ὃν χρόνον ἡ φθορὰ τῆς Ἰλίας καὶ ὁ τόκος ἠλέγχετο, καὶ μετὰ ταῦτα κομιζομένων ἐπὶ τὸν ποταμὸν

τῶν βρεφῶν τοῖς φέρουσιν αὐτὰ κατὰ θείαν τύχην ἅμα διεληλύθει τὴν αὐτὴν ὁδὸν εἰς τὸ Παλλάντιον ἰών:

ὃς ἥκιστα τοῖς ἄλλοις καταφανὴς γενόμενος ὡς ἐπίσταταί τι τοῦ πράγματος ἀξιώσας αὑτῷ συγχωρηθῆναι

τὰ βρέφη λαμβάνει τε αὐτὰ παρὰ [10] τοῦ κοινοῦ καὶ φέρων ὡς τὴν γυναῖκα ἔρχεται. τετοκυῖαν δὲ

καταλαβὼν καὶ ἀχθομένην ὅτι νεκρὸν αὐτῇ τὸ βρέφος ἦν παραμυθεῖταί τε καὶ δίδωσιν ὑποβαλέσθαι τὰ

παιδία πᾶσαν ἐξ ἀρχῆς διηγησάμενος τὴν κατασχοῦσαν αὐτὰ τύχην. αὐξομένοις δὲ αὐτοῖς ὄνομα τίθεται

τῷ μὲν Ῥωμύλον, τῷ δὲ Ῥῶμον. οἱ δὲ ἀνδρωθέντες γίνονται κατά τε ἀξίωσιν μορφῆς καὶ φρονήματος

ὄγκον οὐ συοφορβοῖς καὶ βουκόλοις ἐοικότες, ἀλλ᾽ οἵους ἄν τις ἀξιώσειε τοὺς ἐκ βασιλείου τε φύντας

γένους καὶ ἀπὸ δαιμόνων σπορᾶς γενέσθαι νομιζομένους, ὡς ἐν τοῖς πατρίοις ὕμνοις ὑπὸ [11] Ῥωμαίων

ἔτι καὶ νῦν ᾄδεται. βίος δ᾽ αὐτοῖς ἦν βουκολικὸς καὶ δίαιτα αὐτουργὸς ἐν ὄρεσι τὰ πολλὰ πηξαμένοις διὰ

ξύλων καὶ καλάμων σκηνὰς αὐτορόφους: ὧν ἔτι καὶ εἰς ἐμὲ ἦν τις τοῦ Παλλαντίου ἐπὶ τῆς πρὸς τὸν

ἱππόδρομον στρεφούσης λαγόνος Ῥωμύλου λεγομένη, ἣν φυλάττουσιν ἱερὰν οἷς τούτων ἐπιμελὲς οὐδὲν

ἐπὶ τὸ σεμνότερον ἐξάγοντες, εἰ δέ τι πονήσειεν ὑπὸ χειμῶνος ἢ χρόνου τὸ λεῖπον ἐξακούμενοι καὶ [12]

τῷ πρόσθεν ἐξομοιοῦντες εἰς δύναμιν. ἐπεὶ δὲ ἀμφὶ τὰ ὀκτωκαίδεκα ἔτη γεγονότες ἦσαν ἀμφίλογόν τι

περὶ τῆς νομῆς αὐτοῖς γίνεται πρὸς τοὺς Νεμέτορος βουκόλους, οἳ περὶ τὸ Αὐεντῖνον ὄρος ἀντικρὺ τοῦ

Παλλαντίου κείμενον εἶχον τὰς βουστάσεις. ᾐτιῶντο δὲ ἀλλήλους ἑκάτεροι θαμινὰ ἢ τὴν μὴ

προσήκουσαν ὀργάδα κατανέμειν ἢ τὴν κοινὴν μόνους διακρατεῖν ἢ ὅ τι δήποτε τύχοι. ἐκ δὲ τῆς

ἁψιμαχίας ταύτης ἐγένοντο πληγαί ποτε διὰ χειρῶν, εἶτα δι᾽ ὅπλων. [13] τραύματα δὲ πολλὰ πρὸς τῶν

μειρακίων λαβόντες οἱ τοῦ Νεμέτορος καί τινας καὶ ἀπολέσαντες τῶν σφετέρων καὶ τῶν χωρίων ἤδη

κατὰ κράτος ἐξειργόμενοι παρεσκευάζοντο δόλον τινὰ ἐπ᾽ αὐτούς. προλοχίσαντες δὴ τῆς φάραγγος τὸ

ἀφανὲς καὶ συνθέμενοι τοῖς λοχῶσι τὰ μειράκια τὸν τῆς ἐπιθέσεως καιρὸν οἱ λοιποὶ κατὰ πλῆθος ἐπὶ τὰ

μανδρεύματα αὐτῶν νύκτωρ ἐπέβαλον. Ῥωμύλος μὲν οὖν τὸν χρόνον τοῦτον ἐτύγχανεν ἅμα τοῖς

ἐπιφανεστάτοις τῶν κωμητῶν πεπορευμένος εἴς τι χωρίον Καίνιναν ὀνομαζόμενον ἱερὰ [14] ποιήσων

251

ὑπὲρ τοῦ κοινοῦ πάτρια: Ῥῶμος δὲ τὴν ἔφοδον αὐτῶν αἰσθόμενος ἐξεβοήθει λαβὼν τὰ ὅπλα διαταχέων

ὀλίγους τῶν ἐκ τῆς κώμης φθάσαντας καθ᾽ ἓν γενέσθαι παραλαβών. κἀκεῖνοι οὐ δέχονται αὐτόν, ἀλλὰ

φεύγουσιν ὑπαγόμενοι ἔνθα ἔμελλον ἐν καλῷ ὑποστρέψαντες ἐπιθήσεσθαι: ὁ δὲ Ῥῶμος κατ᾽ ἄγνοιαν τοῦ

μηχανήματος ἄχρι πολλοῦ διώκων αὐτοὺς παραλλάττει τὸ λελοχισμένον χωρίον, κἀν τούτῳ ὅ τε λόχος

ἀνίσταται καὶ οἱ φεύγοντες ὑποστρέφουσι. κυκλωσάμενοι δὲ αὐτοὺς καὶ πολλοῖς ἀράττοντες λίθοις

λαμβάνουσιν ὑποχειρίους. ταύτην γὰρ εἶχον ἐκ τῶν δεσποτῶν τὴν παρακέλευσιν, ζῶντας αὐτοῖς τοὺς

νεανίσκους κομίσαι. οὕτω μὲν δὴ χειρωθεὶς ὁ Ῥῶμος ἀπήγετο…

84 - ἕτεροι δὲ οὐδὲν τῶν μυθωδεστέρων ἀξιοῦντες ἱστορικῇ γραφῇ προσήκειν τήν τε ἀπόθεσιν τὴν τῶν

βρεφῶν οὐχ ὡς ἐκελεύσθη τοῖς ὑπηρέταις γενομένην ἀπίθανον εἶναί φασι, καὶ τῆς λυκαίνης τὸ τιθασόν, ἣ

τοὺς μαστοὺς ἐπεῖχε τοῖς παιδίοις, ὡς δραματικῆς μεστὸν ἀτοπίας διασύρουσιν: [2] ἀντιδιαλλαττόμενοι

δὲ πρὸς ταῦτα λέγουσιν ὡς ὁ Νεμέτωρ, ἐπειδὴ τὴν Ἰλίαν ἔγνω κύουσαν, ἕτερα παρασκευασάμενος παιδία

νεογνὰ διηλλάξατο τεκούσης αὐτῆς τὰ βρέφη καὶ τὰ μὲν ὀθνεῖα δέδωκε τοῖς φυλάττουσι τὰς ὠδῖνας

ἀποφέρειν εἴτε χρημάτων τὸ πιστὸν τῆς χρείας αὐτῶν πριάμενος εἴτε διὰ γυναικῶν τὴν ὑπαλλαγὴν

μηχανησάμενος, καὶ αὐτὰ λαβὼν Ἀμόλιος ὅτῳ δή τινι τρόπῳ ἀναιρεῖ: τὰ δ᾽ ἐκ τῆς Ἰλίας γενόμενα περὶ

παντὸς ποιούμενος ὁ μητροπάτωρ διασώζεσθαι δίδωσι τῷ Φαιστύλῳ. [3] τὸν δὲ Φαιστύλον τοῦτον

Ἀρκάδα μὲν εἶναί φασι τὸ γένος ἀπὸ τῶν σὺν Εὐάνδρῳ, κατοικεῖν δὲ περὶ τὸ Παλλάντιον ἐπιμέλειαν

ἔχοντα τῶν Ἀμολίου κτημάτων. χαρίσασθαι δὲ Νεμέτορι τὴν ἐκτροφὴν τῶν παίδων τἀδελφῷ πειθόμενον

ὄνομα Φαυστίνῳ τὰς περὶ τὸν Αὐεντῖνον τρεφομένας τοῦ [4] Νεμέτορος ἀγέλας ἐπιτροπεύοντι: τήν τε

τιθηνησαμένην τὰ παιδία καὶ μαστοὺς ἐπισχοῦσαν οὐ λύκαιναν εἶναί φασιν, ἀλλ᾽ ὥσπερ εἰκὸς γυναῖκα τῷ

Φαιστύλῳ συνοικοῦσαν Λαυρεντίαν ὄνομα, ᾗ δημοσιευούσῃ ποτὲ τὴν τοῦ σώματος ὥραν οἱ περὶ τὸ

Παλλάντιον διατρίβοντες ἐπίκλησιν ἔθεντο τὴν Λούπαν: ἔστι δὲ τοῦτο Ἑλληνικόν τε καὶ ἀρχαῖον ἐπὶ ταῖς

μισθαρνούσαις τἀφροδίσια τιθέμενον, αἳ νῦν εὐπρεπεστέρᾳ κλήσει ἑταῖραι προσαγορεύονται. ἀγνοοῦντας

δέ τινας αὐτὸ πλάσαι τὸν περὶ τῆς λυκαίνης μῦθον, ἐπειδὴ κατὰ τὴν γλῶτταν, ἣν τὸ Λατίνων ἔθνος

φθέγγεται, λούπα καλεῖται τοῦτο τὸ θηρίον. ἡνίκα δὲ τῆς ἐν τῷ γάλακτι τροφῆς ἀπηλλάγη τὰ παιδία,

δοθῆναι πρὸς τῶν τρεφόντων εἰς Γαβίους πόλιν οὐ μακρὰν ἀπὸ τοῦ [5] Παλλαντίου κειμένην, ὡς Ἑλλάδα

παιδείαν ἐκμάθοιεν, κἀκεῖ παρ᾽ ἀνδράσιν ἰδιοξένοις τοῦ Φαιστύλου τραφῆναι γράμματα καὶ μουσικὴν

καὶ χρῆσιν ὅπλων Ἑλληνικῶν ἐκδιδασκομένους μέχρις ἥβης. [6] ἐπεὶ δὲ ἀφίκοντο πρὸς τοὺς

νομιζομένους γονεῖς συμβῆναι τὴν διαφορὰν αὐτοῖς πρὸς τοὺς Νεμέτορος βουκόλους περὶ τῶν συννόμων

χωρίων: ἐκ δὲ τούτου πληγὰς αὐτοῖς δόντας ὡς αὐτοὺς ἀπελάσαι τὰς ἀγέλας, ποιῆσαι δὲ ταῦτα τῇ γνώμῃ

τοῦ Νεμέτορος, ἵν᾽ ἀρχὴ γένοιτο ἐγκλημάτων καὶ ἅμα παρουσίας εἰς τὴν πόλιν τῷ νομευτικῷ [7] πλήθει

πρόφασις. ὡς δὲ ταῦτ᾽ ἐγένετο Νεμέτορα μὲν Ἀμολίου καταβοᾶν, ὡς δεινὰ πάσχοι διαρπαζόμενος ὑπὸ

τῶν ἐκείνου βουκόλων, καὶ ἀξιοῦν εἰ μηδενὸς αἴτιος τῶν ἐκείνου ἐστὶ παραδοῦναι τὸν βουφορβὸν αὑτῷ

καὶ τοὺς υἱοὺς ἐπὶ δίκῃ: Ἀμόλιον δὲ ἀπολύσασθαι βουλόμενον τὴν αἰτίαν τούς τε αἰτηθέντας καὶ τοὺς

ἄλλους ἅπαντας, ὅσοι παρεῖναι τοῖς γενομένοις εἶχον αἰτίαν, ἥκειν κελεύειν δίκας ὑφέξοντας τῷ

Νεμέτορι. [8] πολλῶν δὲ συνελθόντων ἅμα τοῖς ἐπαιτίοις ἐπὶ τῇ προφάσει τῆς δίκης φράσαντα τοῖς

νεανίσκοις τὸν μητροπάτορα πᾶσαν τὴν καταλαβοῦσαν αὐτοὺς τύχην καὶ φήσαντα τιμωρίαν νῦν εἴ ποτε

καιρὸν εἶναι λαβεῖν, αὐτίκα ποιήσασθαι σὺν τῷ νομευτικῷ πλήθει τὴν ἐπίθεσιν. περὶ μὲν οὖν γενέσεως

καὶ τροφῆς τῶν οἰκιστῶν τῆς Ῥώμης ταῦτα λέγεται.

85 - τὰ δὲ κατὰ τὴν κτίσιν αὐτὴν γενόμενα ῾τοῦτο γὰρ ἔτι μοι τὸ μέρος τῆς γραφῆς λείπεταἰ νῦν ἔρχομαι

διηγησόμενος. ἐπειδὴ γὰρ Ἀμολίου τελευτήσαντος ἀνενεώσατο τὴν ἀρχὴν ὁ Νεμέτωρ ὀλίγον ἐπισχὼν

χρόνον, ἐν ᾧ τὴν πόλιν ἐκ τῆς πρότερον ἐπεχούσης ἀκοσμίας εἰς τὸν ἀρχαῖον ἐκόσμει τρόπον, εὐθὺς

ἐπενόει τοῖς μειρακίοις ἰδίαν ἀρχὴν κατασκευάσαι ἑτέραν πόλιν οἰκίσας. [2] ἅμα δὲ καὶ τοῦ πολιτικοῦ

πλήθους ἐπίδοσιν εἰς εὐανδρίαν ἐσχηκότος ἀπαναλῶσαί τι καλῶς ἔχειν ᾤετο, καὶ μάλιστα τὸ διάφορον

αὐτῷ ποτε γενόμενον, ὡς μὴ δι᾽ ὑποψίας αὐτοὺς ἔχοι. κοινωσάμενος δὲ τοῖς μειρακίοις, ἐπειδὴ κἀκείνοις

ἐδόκει, δίδωσιν αὐτοῖς χωρία μὲν ὧν ἄρξουσιν, ἔνθα παῖδες ὄντες ἐτράφησαν, ἐκ δὲ τοῦ λεὼ τόν τε δι᾽

ὑποψίας αὐτῷ γενόμενον, ὃς ἔμελλε νεωτερισμοῦ εἰσαῦθις ἄρξειν, καὶ εἴ τι ἑκούσιον ἀπαναστῆναι

252

ἐβούλετο. [3] ἦν δὲ ἐν τούτοις πολὺ μὲν ὥσπερ εἰκὸς ἐν πόλει κινουμένῃ τὸ δημοτικὸν γένος, ἱκανὸν δὲ

καὶ τὸ ἀπὸ τοῦ κρατίστου γνώριμον, ἐκ δὲ τοῦ Τρωικοῦ τὸ εὐγενέστατον δὴ νομιζόμενον, ἐξ οὗ καὶ

γενεαί τινες ἔτι περιῆσαν εἰς ἐμέ, πεντήκοντα μάλιστ᾽ οἶκοι. ἐχορηγεῖτο δὲ τοῖς νεανίσκοις καὶ χρήματα

καὶ ὅπλα καὶ σῖτος καὶ ἀνδράποδα καὶ ὑποζύγια ἀχθοφόρα καὶ εἴ τι ἄλλο πόλεως ἦν κατασκευῇ

πρόσφορον. [4] ὡς δὲ ἀνέστησαν ἐκ τῆς Ἄλβας οἱ νεανίσκοι τὸν λεὼν μίξαντες αὐτῷ τὸν αὐτόθεν, ὅσος

ἦν ἐν τῷ Παλλαντίῳ καὶ περὶ τὴν Σατορνίαν ὑπολιπής, μερίζονται τὸ πλῆθος ἅπαν διχῇ. τοῦτο δὲ αὐτοῖς

δόξαν παρέσχε φιλοτιμίας, ἵνα θᾶττον ἀνύηται τῇ πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἁμίλλῃ τὰ ἔργα, [5] αἴτιον δὲ τοῦ

μεγίστου κακοῦ, στάσεως, ἐγένετο. οἵ τε γὰρ προσνεμηθέντες αὐτοῖς τὸν ἑαυτῶν ἡγεμόνα ἕκαστοι

κυδαίνοντες ὡς ἐπιτήδειον ἁπάντων ἄρχειν ἐπῆρον, αὐτοί τε οὐκέτι μίαν γνώμην ἔχοντες οὐδὲ ἀδελφὰ

διανοεῖσθαι ἀξιοῦντες, ὡς αὐτὸς ἄρξων ἑκάτερος θατέρου, παρώσαντες τὸ ἴσον τοῦ πλείονος ὠρέγοντο.

τέως μὲν οὖν ἀφανῆ τὰ πλεονεκτήματα αὐτῶν ἦν, ἔπειτα δὲ ἐξερράγη σὺν τοιᾷδε προφάσει. [6] τὸ χωρίον

ἔνθα ἔμελλον ἱδρύσειν τὴν πόλιν οὐ τὸ αὐτὸ ᾑρεῖτο ἑκάτερος. Ῥωμύλου μὲν γὰρ ἦν γνώμη τὸ

Παλλάντιον οἰκίζειν τῶν τε ἄλλων ἕνεκα καὶ τῆς τύχης τοῦ τόπου, ἣ τὸ σωθῆναί τε αὐτοῖς καὶ τραφῆναι

παρέσχε: Ῥώμῳ δὲ ἐδόκει τὴν καλουμένην νῦν ἀπ᾽ ἐκείνου Ῥεμορίαν οἰκίζειν. ἔστι δὲ τὸ χωρίον

ἐπιτήδειον ὑποδέξασθαι πόλιν λόφος οὐ πρόσω τοῦ Τεβέριος κείμενος, ἀπέχων τῆς Ῥώμης ἀμφὶ τοὺς

τριάκοντα σταδίους. ἐκ δὲ τῆς φιλονεικίας ταύτης ἀκοινώνητος εὐθὺς ὑπεδηλοῦτο φιλαρχία. τῷ γὰρ

εἴξαντι τὸ κρατῆσαν εἰς πάντα ὁμοίως ἐπιθήσεσθαι ἔμελλεν.

86 - χρόνου δέ τινος ἐν τούτῳ διαγενομένου, ἐπειδὴ οὐδὲν ἐμειοῦτο τὸ τῆς στάσεως, δόξαν ἀμφοῖν τῷ

μητροπάτορι ἐπιτέψαι παρῆσαν εἰς τὴν Ἄλβαν. ὁ δὲ αὐτοῖς ταῦτα ὑποτίθεται: θεοὺς ποιήσασθαι

δικαστάς, ὁποτέρου χρὴ τὴν ἀποικίαν λέγεσθαι καὶ τὴν ἡγεμονίαν εἶναι. ταξάμενος δὲ αὐτοῖς ἡμέραν

ἐκέλευσεν ἐξ ἑωθινοῦ καθέζεσθαι χωρὶς ἀλλήλων, ἐν αἷς ἑκάτεροι ἀξιοῦσιν ἕδραις: προθύσαντας δὲ τοῖς

θεοῖς ἱερὰ τὰ νομιζόμενα φυλάττειν οἰωνοὺς αἰσίους: ὁποτέρῳ δ᾽ ἂν οἱ ὄρνιθες προτέρῳ κρείττους

γένωνται, [2] τοῦτον ἄρχειν τῆς ἀποικίας. ἀπῄεσαν οἱ νεανίσκοι ταῦτ᾽ ἐπαινέσαντες καὶ κατὰ τὰ

συγκείμενα παρῆσαν ἐν τῇ κυρίᾳ τῆς πράξεως ἡμέρᾳ. ἦν δὲ Ῥωμύλῳ μὲν οἰωνιστήριον, ἔνθα ἠξίου τὴν

ἀποικίαν ἱδρῦσαι, τὸ Παλλάντιον, Ῥώμῳ δ᾽ ὁ προσεχὴς ἐκείνῳ λόφος Αὐεντῖνος καλούμενος, ὡς δέ τινες

ἱστοροῦσιν ἡ Ῥεμορία: φυλακή τε ἀμφοῖν παρῆν οὐκ ἐπιτρέψουσα ὅ τι μὴ φανείη λέξειν. [3] ὡς δὲ τὰς

προσηκούσας ἕδρας ἔλαβον ὀλίγον ἐπισχὼν χρόνον ὁ Ῥωμύλος ὑπὸ σπουδῆς τε καὶ τοῦ πρὸς τὸν

ἀδελφὸν φθόνου, ὡς δὲ καὶ ὁ φθόνος ἴσως δὲ καὶ ὁ θεὸς οὕτως ἐνῆγε, πρὶν ἢ καὶ ὁτιοῦν σημεῖον

θεάσασθαι πέμψας ὡς τὸν ἀδελφὸν ἀγγέλους ἥκειν ἠξίου διαταχέων, ὡς πρότερος ἰδὼν οἰωνοὺς αἰσίους.

ἐν ᾧ δὲ οἱ πεμφθέντες ὑπ᾽ αὐτοῦ δι᾽ αἰσχύνης ἔχοντες τὴν ἀπάτην οὐ σπουδῇ ἐχώρουν, τῷ Ῥώμῳ γῦπες

ἐπισημαίνουσιν ἓξ ἀπὸ τῶν δεξιῶν πετόμενοι. καὶ ο μὲν ἰδὼν τοὺς ὄρνιθας περιχαρὴς ἐγένετο, μετ᾽ οὐ

πολὺ δὲ οἱ παρὰ τοῦ Ῥωμύλου πεμφθέντες ἀναστήσαντες αὐτὸν ἄγουσιν ἐπὶ τὸ Παλλάντιον. [4] ἐπεὶ δὲ

ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ ἐγένοντο ἤρετο μὲν τὸν Ῥωμύλον ὁ Ῥῶμος, οὕςτινας οἰωνοὺς ἴδοι πρότερος, ὁ δὲ ἐν ἀπόρῳ

γίνεται ὅ τι ἀποκρίναιτο. ἐν δὲ τούτῳ δώδεκα γῦπες αἴσιοι πετόμενοι ὤφθησαν, οὺς ἰδὼν θαρρεῖ τε καὶ τῷ

Ῥώμῳ δείξας λέγει, Τί γὰρ ἀξιοῖς τὰ πάλαι γενόμενα μαθεῖν; τούςδε γὰρ δή που τοὺς οἰωνοὺς αὐτὸς ὁρᾷς.

ὁ δὲ ἀγανακτεῖ τε καὶ δεινὰ ποιεῖται, ὡς διηρτημένος ὑπ᾽ αὐτοῦ, τῆς τε ἀποικίας οὐ μεθήσεσθαι αὐτῷ

φησιν.

87 - ἀνίσταται δὴ ἐκ τούτου μείζων τῆς προτέρας ἔρις ἑκατέρου τὸ πλέον ἔχειν ἀφανῶς δικαιουμένου, τὸ

δὲ μὴ μεῖον ἀναφανδὸν ἀπὸ δικαιώσεως τοιᾶςδε ἐπισυνάπτοντος. εἰρημένον γὰρ ἦν αὐτοῖς ὑπὸ τοῦ

μητροπάτορος, ὅτῳ ἂν προτέρῳ κρείττους ὄρνιθες ἐπισημήνωσι, τοῦτον ἄρχειν τῆς ἀποικίας. γένους δὲ

ὀρνίθων ἑνὸς ἀμφοῖν ὀφθέντος ὁ μὲν τῷ πρότερος, ὁ δὲ τῷ πλείους ἰδεῖν ἐκρατύνετο. συνελάμβανε δὲ

αὐτοῖς τῆς φιλονεικίας καὶ τὸ ἄλλο πλῆθος ἦρξέ τε πολέμου δίχα τῶν ἡγεμόνων ὁπλισθέν, καὶ γίνεται

μάχη καρτερὰ καὶ φόνος ἐξ ἀμφοῖν πολύς. [2] ἐν ταύτῃ φασί τινες τῇ μάχη τὸν Φαιστύλον, ὃς ἐξεθρέψατο

τοὺς νεανίσκους, διαλῦσαι τὴν ἔριν τῶν ἀδελφῶν βουλόμενον, ὡς οὐδὲν οἷός τ᾽ ἦν ἀνύσαι, εἰς μέσους

ὤσασθαι τοὺς μαχομένους ἄνοπλον θανάτου τοῦ ταχίστου τυχεῖν προθυμούμενον, ὅπερ καὶ ἐγένετο. τινὲς

δὲ καὶ τὸν λέοντα τὸν λίθινον, ὃς ἔκειτο τῆς ἀγορᾶς τῆς τῶν Ῥωμαίων ἐν τῷ κρατίστῳ χωρίῳ παρὰ τοῖς

253

ἐμβόλοις, ἐπὶ τῷ σώματι τοῦ Φαιστύλου τεθῆναί φασιν, ἔνθα ἔπεσεν ὑπὸ τῶν εὑρόντων ταφέντος. [3]

ἀποθανόντος δ᾽ ἐν τῇ μάχῃ Ῥώμου νίκην οἰκτίστην ὁ Ῥωμύλος ἀπό τε τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ καὶ πολιτικῆς

ἀλληλοκτονίας ἀνελόμενος τὸν μὲν Ῥῶμον ἐν τῇ Ῥεμορίᾳ θάπτει, ἐπειδὴ καὶ ζῶν τοῦ χωρίου τῆς κτίσεως

περιείχετο, αὐτὸς δὲ ὑπὸ λύπης τε καὶ μετανοίας τῶν πεπραγμένων παρεὶς ἑαυτὸν εἰς ἀπόγνωσιν τοῦ βίου

τρέπεται. τῆς δὲ Λαυρεντίας, ἣ νεογνοὺς παραλαβοῦσα ἐξεθρέψατο καὶ μητρὸς οὐχ ἧττον ἠσπάζετο,

δεομένης καὶ παρηγορούσης, ταύτῃ πειθόμενος ἀνίσταται: συναγαγὼν δὲ τοὺς Λατίνους, ὅσοι μὴ κατὰ

τὴν μάχην διεφθάρησαν, ὀλίγῳ πλείους ὄντας τρισχιλίων ἐκ πάνυ πολλοῦ κατ᾽ ἀρχὰς γενομένου πλήθους,

ὅτε τὴν ἀποικίαν ἔστελλε, [4] πολίζει τὸ Παλλάντιον. ὁ μὲν οὖν πιθανώτατος τῶν λόγων περὶ τῆς Ῥώμου

τελευτῆς οὗτος εἶναί μοι δοκεῖ. λεγέσθω δ᾽ ὅμως καὶ εἴ τις ἑτέρως ἔχων παραδέδοται. φασὶ δή τινες

συγχωρήσαντ᾽ αὐτὸν τῷ Ῥωμύλῳ τὴν ἡγεμονίαν, ἀχθόμενον δὲ καὶ δι᾽ ὀργῆς ἔχοντα τὴν ἀπάτην, ἐπειδὴ

κατεσκευάσθη τὸ τεῖχος φλαῦρον ἀποδεῖξαι τὸ ἔρυμα βουλόμενον, Ἀλλὰ τοῦτό γ᾽, εἰπεῖν, οὐ χαλεπῶς ἄν

τις ὑμῖν ὑπερβαίη πολέμιος, ὥσπερ ἐγώ: καὶ αὐτίκα ὑπεραλέσθαι: Κελέριον δέ τινα τῶν ἐπιβεβηκότων

τοῦ τείχους, ὃς ἦν ἐπιστάτης τῶν ἔργων, Ἀλλὰ τοῦτόν γε τὸν πολέμιον οὐ χαλεπῶς ἄν τις ἡμῶν ἀμύναιτο,

εἰπόντα, πλῆξαι τῷ σκαφείῳ κατὰ τῆς κεφαλῆς καὶ αὐτίκα ἀποκτεῖναι: τὸ μὲν δὴ τέλος τῆς στάσεως τῶν

ἀδελφῶν τοιοῦτο λέγεται γενέσθαι.

79 - But465 concerning the babes born of Ilia, Quintus Fabius, called Pictor, whom Lucius Cincius,

Porcius Cato, Calpurnius Piso and most of the other historians have followed, writes thus: By the order

Amulius some of his servants took the babes in an ark and carried them to the river, distant about a

hundred and twenty stades from the city, with the intention of throwing them into it. 5) But when they

drew near and perceived that the Tiber, swollen by continual rains, had left its natural bed and overflowed

the plains, they came down from the top of the Palatine hill to that part of the water that lay nearest (for

they could no longer advance any farther) and set down the ark upon the flood where it washed the foot of

the hill. The ark floated for some time, and then, as the waters retired by degrees from their extreme

limits, it struck against a stone and, overturning, threw out the babes, who lay whimpering and wallowing

in the mud. 6) Upon this, a she-wolf that had just whelped appeared and, her udder being distended with

milk, gave them her paps to suck and with her tongue licked off the mud with which they were

besmeared. In the meantime the herdsmen happened to be driving their flocks forth to pasture (for the

place was now become passable) and one of them, seeing the wolf thus fondling the babes, was for some

time struck dumb with astonishment and disbelief of what he saw. Then going away and getting together

as many as he could of his fellows who kept their herds near at hand (for they would not believe what he

said), he led them to see the sight themselves. 7) When these also drew near and saw the wolf caring for

the babes as if they had been her young and the babes clinging to her as to their mother, they thought they

were beholding a supernatural sight and advanced in a body, shouting to terrify the creature. The wolf,

however, far from being provoked at the approach of the men, but as if she had been tame, withdrew

gently from the babes and went away, paying little heed to the rabble of shepherds. 8) Now there was not

far off a holy place, arched over by a dense wood, and a hollow rock from which springs issued; the wood

was said to be consecrated to Pan, and there was an altar there to that god. To this place, then, the wolf

came and hid herself. The grove, to be sure, no longer remains, but the cave from which the spring flows

is still pointed out, built up against the side of the Palatine hill on the road which leads to the Circus, and

near it is a sacred precinct in which there is a statue commemorating the incident; it represents a she-wolf

suckling two infants, the figures being in bronze and of ancient workmanship. This spot is said to have

been a holy place of the Arcadians who formerly settled there with Evander.

9) As soon as the beast was gone the herdsmen took up the babes, and believing that the god desired their

preservation, were eager to bring them up. There was among them the keeper of the royal herds of swine,

whose name was Faustulus, an upright man, who had been in town upon some necessary business at the

465 Translation from Cary 1937.

254

time when the deflowering of Ilia and her delivery were made public. And afterwards, when the babes

were being carried to the river, he had by some providential chance taken the same road to the Palatine

hill and gone along with those who were carrying them. This man, without giving the least intimation to

the others that he knew anything of the affair, asked that the babes might be delivered to him, and having

received them by general consent, he carried them home to his wife. 10) And finding that she had just

given birth to a child and was grieving because it was still-born, he comforted her and gave her these

children to substitute in its place, informing her of every circumstance of their fortune from the beginning.

And as they grew older he gave to one the name of Romulus and to the other that of Remus. When they

came to be men, they showed themselves both in dignity of aspect and elevation of mind not like

swineherds and neatherds, but such as we might expect those to be who are born of royal race and are

looked upon as the offspring of the gods; and as such they are still celebrated by the Romans in the hymns

of their country. 11) But their life was that of herdsmen, and they lived by their own labour, generally

upon the mountains in huts which they built, roofs and all, out of sticks and reeds. One of these, called the

hut of Romulus, remained even to my day on the flank of the Palatine hill which faces towards the Circus,

and it is preserved holy by those who have charge of these matters; they add nothing to it to render it

more stately, but if any part of it is injured, either by storms or by the lapse of time, they repair the

damage and restore the hut as nearly as possible to its former condition.

12) When Romulus and Remus were about eighteen years of age, they had some dispute about the pasture

with Numitor's herdsmen, whose herds were quartered on the Aventine hill, which is over against the

Palatine. They frequently accused one another either of grazing the meadow-land that did not belong to

them or of monopolizing that which belonged to both in common, or of whatever the matter chanced to

be. From this wrangling they had recourse sometimes to blows and then to arms. 13) Finally Numitor's

men, having received many wounds at the hands of the youths and lost some of their number and being at

last driven by force from the places in dispute, devised a stratagem against them. They place an

ambuscade in the hidden part of the ravine and having concerted the time of the attack with those who lay

in wait for the youths, the rest in a body attacked the others' folds by night. Now it happened that

Romulus, together with the chief men of the village, had gone at the time to a place called Caenina to

offer sacrifices for the community according to the custom of the country; 14) but Remus, being informed

of the foe's attack, hastily armed himself and with a few of the villagers who had already got together

went out to oppose them. And they, instead of awaiting him, retired, in order to draw him to the place

where they intended to face above and attack him to advantage. Remus, being unaware of their stratagem,

pursued them for a long distance, till he passed the place where the rest lay in ambush; thereupon these

men rose up and at the same time the others who had been fleeing faced about. And having surrounded

Remus and his men, they overwhelmed them with a shower of stones and took them prisoners; for they

had received orders from their masters to bring the youths to them alive. Thus Remus was captured and

led away…

84. 1) But others, who hold that nothing bordering on the fabulous has any place in historical writing,

declare that the exposing of the babes by the servants in a manner not in accordance with their

instructions is improbable, and they ridicule the tameness of the she-wolf that suckled the children as a

story full of melodramatic absurdity. 2) In place of this they give the following account of the matter:

Numitor, upon learning that Ilia was with child, procured other new-born infants and when she had given

birth to her babes, he substituted the former in place of the latter. Then he gave the supposititious children

to those who were guarding her at the time of her delivery to be carried away, having either secured the

loyalty of the guards by money or contrived this exchange by the help of women; and when Amulius had

received them, he made away with them by some means or other. As for the babes that were born of Ilia,

their grandfather, who was above all things solicitous for their preservation, handed them over to

Faustulus. 3) This Faustulus, they say, was of Arcadian extraction, being descended from those Arcadians

who came over with Evander; he lived near the Palatine hill and had the care of Amulius' possessions, and

he was prevailed on by his brother, named Faustinus, who had the oversight of Numitor's herds that fed

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near the Aventine hill, to do Numitor the favour of bringing up the children. 4) They say, moreover, that

the one who nursed and suckled them was not a she-wolf, but, as may well be supposed, a woman, the

wife of Faustulus, named Laurentia, who, having formerly prostituted her beauty, had received from the

people living round the Palatine hill the nickname of Lupa. This is an ancient Greek term applied to

women who prostitute themselves for gain; but they are now called by a more respectable name, hetaerae

or "companions." But some who were ignorant of this invented the myth of the she-wolf, this animal

being called in the Latin tongue lupa. 5) The story continues that after the children were weaned they

were sent by those who were rearing them to Gabii, a town not far from the Palatine hill, to be instructed

in Greek learning; and there they were brought up by some personal friends of Faustulus, being taught

letters, music, and the use of Greek arms until they grew to manhood. 6) After their return to their

supposed parents the quarrel arose between them and Numitor's herdsmen concerning their common

pastures; thereupon they beat Numitor's men so that these drove away their cattle, doing this by Numitor's

direction, to the intent that it might serve as a basis for his complaints and at the same time as an excuse

for the crowd of herdsmen to come to town. 7) When this had been brought about, Numitor raised a

clamour against Amulius, declaring that he was treated outrageously, being plundered by the herdsmen of

Amulius, and demanding that Amulius, if he was not responsible for any of this, should delivering to him

the herdsman and his sons for trial; and Amulius, wishing to clear himself of the charge, ordered not only

those who were complained of, but all the rest who were accused of having been present at the conflict, to

come and stand trial before Numitor. 8) Then, when great numbers came to town together with the

accused, ostensibly to attend the trial, the grandfather of the youths acquainted them with all the

circumstances of their fortune, and telling them that now, if ever, was the time to avenge themselves, he

straightway made his attack upon Amulius with the crowd of herdsmen. These, then, are the accounts that

are given of the birth and rearing of the founders of Rome.

85. 1) I am now going to relate the events that happened at the very time of its founding; for this part of

my account still remains. When Numitor, upon the death of Amulius, had resumed his rule and had spent

a little time in restoring the city from its late disorder to its former orderly state, he presently thought of

providing an independent rule for the youths by founding another city. 2) At the same time, the

inhabitants being much increased in number, he thought it good policy to get rid of some part of them,

particularly of those who had once been his enemies, lest he might have cause to suspect any of his

subjects. And having communicated this plan to the youths and gained their approval, he gave them, as a

district to rule, the region where they had been brought up in their infancy, and, for subjects, not only that

part of the people which he suspected of a design to begin rebellion anew, but also any who were willing

to migrate voluntarily. 3) Among these, as is likely to happen when a city sends out a colony, there were

great numbers of the common people, but there were also a sufficient number of the prominent men of the

best class, and of the Trojan element all those who were esteemed the noblest in birth, some of whose

posterity remained even to my day, consisting of about fifty families. The youths were supplied with

money, arms and corn, with slaves and beasts of burden and everything else that was of use in the

building of a city. 4) After they had led their people out of Alba and intermingled with them the local

population that still remained in Pallantium and Saturnia, they divided the whole multitude into two parts.

This they did in the hope of arousing a spirit of emulation, so that through their rivalry with each other

their tasks might be the sooner finished; however, it produced the greatest of evils, discord. 5) For each

group, exalting its own leader, extolled him as the proper person to command them all; and the youths

themselves, being now no longer one in mind or feeling it necessary to entertain brotherly sentiments

toward each, since each expected to command the other, scorned equality and craved superiority. For

some time their ambitions were concealed, but later they burst forth on the occasion which I shall now

describe. 6) They did not both favour the same site for the building of the city; for Romulus proposed to

settle the Palatine hill, among other reasons, because of the good fortune of the place where they had been

preserved and brought up, whereas Remus favoured the place that is now named after him Remoria. And

indeed this place is very suitable for a city, being a hill not far from the Tiber and about thirty stades from

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Rome. From this rivalry their unsociable love of rule immediately began to disclose itself; for on the one

who now yielded the victor would inevitably impose his will on all occasions alike.

86. 1) Meanwhile, some time having elapsed and their discord in no degree abating, the two agreed to

refer the matter to their grandfather and for that purpose went to Alba. He advised them to leave it to the

decision of the gods which of them should give his name to the colony and be its leader. And having

appointed for them a day, he ordered them to place themselves early in the morning at a distance from one

another, in such stations as each of them should think proper, and after first offering to the gods the

customary sacrifices, to watch for auspicious birds; and he ordered that he to whom the more favourable

birds first appeared should rule the colony. 2) The youths, approving of this, went away and according to

their agreement appeared on the day appointed for the test. Romulus chose for his station the Palatine hill,

where he proposed settling the colony, and Remus the Aventine hill adjoining it, or, according to others,

Remoria; and a guard attended them both, to prevent their reporting things otherwise than as they

appeared. 3) When they had taken their respective stations, Romulus, after a short pause, from eagerness

and jealousy of his brother, — though possibly Heaven was thus directing him, — even before he saw

any omen at all, sent messengers to his brother desiring him to come immediately, as if he had been the

first to see some auspicious birds. But while the persons he sent were proceeding with no great haste,

feeling ashamed of the fraud, six vultures appeared to Remus, flying from the right; and he, seeing the

birds, rejoiced greatly. And not long afterwards the men sent by Romulus took him thence and brought

him to the Palatine hill. 4) When they were together, Remus asked Romulus what birds he had been the

first to see, and Romulus knew not what to answer. But thereupon twelve auspicious vultures were seen

flying; and upon seeing these he took courage, and pointing them out to Remus, said: "Why do you

demand to know what happened a long time ago? For surely you see these birds yourself." But Remus

was indignant and complained bitterly because he had been deceived by him; and he refused to yield to

him his right to the colony.

87. 1) Thereupon greater strife arose between them than before, as each, while secretly striving for the

advantage, was ostensibly willing to accept equality, for the following reason. Their grandfather, as I have

stated, had ordered that he to whom the more favourable birds first appeared should rule the colony; but,

as the same kind of birds had been seen by both, one had the advantage of seeing them first and the other

that of seeing the greater number. The rest of the people also espoused their quarrel, and arming

themselves without orders from their leaders, began war; and a sharp battle ensued in which many were

slain on both sides. 2) In the course of this battle, as some say, Faustulus, who had brought up the youths,

wishing to put an end to the strife of the brothers and being unable to do so, threw himself unarmed into

the midst of the combatants, seeking the speediest death, which fell out accordingly. Some say also that

the stone lion which stood in the principal part of the Forum near the rostra was placed over the body of

Faustulus, who was buried by those who found him in the place where he fell. 3) Remus having been

slain in this action, Romulus, who had gained a most melancholy victory through the death of his brother

and the mutual slaughter of citizens, buried Remus at Remoria, since when alive he had clung to it as the

site for the new city. As for himself, in his grief and repentance for what had happened, he became

dejected and lost all desire for life. But when Laurentia, who had received the babes when newly born and

brought them up and loved them no less than a mother, entreated and comforted him, he listened to her

and rose up, and gathering together the Latins who had not been slain in the battle (they were now little

more than three thousand out of a very great multitude at first, when he led out the colony), he built a city

on the Palatine hill.

4 The account I have given seems to me the most probable of the stories about the death of Remus.

However, if any has been handed down that differs from this, let that also be related. Some, indeed, say

that Remus yielded the leadership to Romulus, though not without resentment and anger at the fraud, but

that after the wall was built, wishing to demonstrate the weakness of the fortification, he cried, "Well, as

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for this wall, one of your enemies could as easily cross it as I do," and immediately leaped over it.

Thereupon Celer, one of the men standing on the wall, who was overseer of the work, said, "Well, as for

this enemy, one of us could easily punish him," and striking him on the head with a mattock, he killed

him then and there. Such is said to have been the outcome of the quarrel between the brothers.

2. Livy Ab Urbe Condita I.4-1.7

[4] Sed debebatur, ut opinor, fatis tantae origo urbis maximique secundum deorum opes imperii

principium. Vi compressa Vestalis cum geminum partum edidisset, seu ita rata seu quia deus auctor

culpae honestior erat, Martem incertae stirpis patrem nuncupat. Sed nec di nec homines aut ipsam aut

stirpem a crudelitate regia uindicant: sacerdos uincta in custodiam datur, pueros in profluentem aquam

mitti iubet. Forte quadam diuinitus super ripas Tiberis effusus lenibus stagnis nec adiri usquam ad iusti

cursum poterat amnis et posse quamuis languida mergi aqua infantes spem ferentibus dabat. Ita uelut

defuncti regis imperio in proxima alluuie ubi nunc ficus Ruminalis est—Romularem vocatam ferunt—

pueros exponunt. Vastae tum in his locis solitudines erant. Tenet fama cum fluitantem alueum, quo

expositi erant pueri, tenuis in sicco aqua destituisset, lupam sitientem ex montibus qui circa sunt ad

puerilem uagitum cursum flexisse; eam submissas infantibus adeo mitem praebuisse mammas ut lingua

lambentem pueros magister regii pecoris inuenerit—Faustulo fuisse nomen ferunt—ab eo ad stabula

Larentiae uxori educandos datos. Sunt qui Larentiam uolgato corpore lupam inter pastores uocatam

putent; inde locum fabulae ac miraculo datum. Ita geniti itaque educati, cum primum adoleuit aetas, nec

in stabulis nec ad pecora segnes uenando peragrare saltus. Hinc robore corporibus animisque sumpto iam

non feras tantum subsistere sed in latrones praeda onustos impetus facere pastoribusque rapta diuidere et

cum his crescente in dies grege iuuenum seria ac iocos celebrare.

[5] Iam tum in Palatio monte Lupercal hoc fuisse ludicrum ferunt, et a Pallanteo, urbe Arcadica,

Pallantium, dein Palatium montem appellatum; ibi Euandrum, qui ex eo genere Arcadum multis ante

tempestatibus tenuerit loca, sollemne allatum ex Arcadia instituisse ut nudi iuuenes Lycaeum Pana

uenerantes per lusum atque lasciuiam currerent, quem Romani deinde uocarunt Inuum. Huic deditis

ludicro cum sollemne notum esset insidiatos ob iram praedae amissae latrones, cum Romulus ui se

defendisset, Remum cepisse, captum regi Amulio tradidisse, ultro accusantes…Romulus non cum globo

iuuenum—nec enim erat ad uim apertam par—sed aliis alio itinere iussis certo tempore ad regiam uenire

pastoribus ad regem impetum facit; et a domo Numitoris alia comparata manu adiuuat Remus. Ita regem

obtruncat.

[6] Numitor inter primum tumultum, hostes inuasisse urbem atque adortos regiam dictitans, cum pubem

Albanam in arcem praesidio armisque obtinendam auocasset, postquam iuuenes perpetrata caede pergere

ad se gratulantes uidit, extemplo aduocato concilio scelera in se fratris originem nepotum, ut geniti, ut

educati, ut cogniti essent, caedem deinceps tyranni seque eius auctorem ostendit. Iuuenes per mediam

contionem agmine ingressi cum auum regem salutassent, secuta ex omni multitudine consentiens uox

ratum nomen imperiumque regi efficit.

Ita Numitori Albana re permissa Romulum Remumque cupido cepit in iis locis ubi expositi ubique

educati erant urbis condendae. Et supererat multitudo Albanorum Latinorumque; ad id pastores quoque

accesserant, qui omnes facile spem facerent paruam Albam, paruum Lauinium prae ea urbe quae

conderetur fore. Interuenit deinde his cogitationibus auitum malum, regni cupido, atque inde foedum

certamen coortum a satis miti principio. Quoniam gemini essent nec aetatis uerecundia discrimen facere

posset, ut di quorum tutelae ea loca essent auguriis legerent qui nomen nouae urbi daret, qui conditam

imperio regeret, Palatium Romulus, Remus Auentinum ad inaugurandum templa capiunt.

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[7] Priori Remo augurium uenisse fertur, sex uoltures; iamque nuntiato augurio cum duplex numerus

Romulo se ostendisset, utrumque regem sua multitudo consalutauerat: tempore illi praecepto, at hi

numero auium regnum trahebant. Inde cum altercatione congressi certamine irarum ad caedem uertuntur;

ibi in turba ictus Remus cecidit. Volgatior fama est ludibrio fratris Remum nouos transiluisse muros; inde

ab irato Romulo, cum uerbis quoque increpitans adiecisset, "Sic deinde, quicumque alius transiliet moenia

mea", interfectum. Ita solus potitus imperio Romulus; condita urbs conditoris nomine appellata.

[1.4]But466 the Fates had, I believe, already decreed the origin of this great city and the foundation of the

mightiest empire under heaven. The Vestal was forcibly violated and gave birth to twins. She named Mars

as their father, either because she really believed it, or because the fault might appear less heinous if a

deity were the cause of it. But neither gods nor men sheltered her or her babes from the king's cruelty; the

priestess was thrown into prison, the boys were ordered to be thrown into the river. By a heaven-sent

chance it happened that the Tiber was then overflowing its banks, and stretches of standing water

prevented any approach to the main channel. Those who were carrying the children expected that this

stagnant water would be sufficient to drown them, so under the impression that they were carrying out the

king's orders they exposed the boys at the nearest point of the overflow, where the Ficus Ruminalis (said

to have been formerly called Romularis) now stands. The locality was then a wild solitude. The tradition

goes on to say that after the floating cradle in which the boys had been exposed had been left by the

retreating water on dry land, a thirsty she-wolf from the surrounding hills, attracted by the crying of the

children, came to them, gave them her teats to suck and was so gentle towards them that the king's flock-

master found her licking the boys with her tongue. According to the story, his name was Faustulus. He

took the children to his hut and gave them to his wife Larentia to bring up. Some writers think that

Larentia, from her unchaste life, had got the nickname of "She-wolf" amongst the shepherds, and that this

was the origin of the marvellous story. As soon as the boys, thus born and thus brought up, grew to be

young men they did not neglect their pastoral duties, but their special delight was roaming through the

woods on hunting expeditions. As their strength and courage were thus developed, they used not only to

lie in wait for fierce beasts of prey, but they even attacked brigands when loaded with plunder. They

distributed what they took amongst the shepherds, with whom, surrounded by a continually increasing

body of young men, they associated themselves in their serious undertakings and in their sports and

pastimes.

[1.5]It is said that the festival of the Lupercalia, which is still observed, was even in those days celebrated

on the Palatine hill. This hill was originally called Pallantium from a city of the same name in Arcadia;

the name was afterwards changed to Palatium. Evander, an Arcadian, had held that territory many ages

before, and had introduced an annual festival from Arcadia in which young men ran about naked for sport

and wantonness, in honour of the Lycaean Pan, whom the Romans afterwards called Inuus. The existence

of this festival was widely recognised, and it was while the two brothers were engaged in it that the

brigands, enraged at losing their plunder, ambushed them. Romulus successfully defended himself, but

Remus was taken prisoner and brought before Amulius, his captors impudently accusing him of their own

crimes... Romulus shrunk from a direct attack with his body of shepherds, for he was no match for the

king in open fight. They were instructed to approach the palace by different routes and meet there at a

given time, whilst from Numitor's house Remus lent his assistance with a second band he had collected.

The attack succeeded and the king was killed.

[1.6]… After the government of Alba was thus transferred to Numitor, Romulus and Remus were seized

with the desire of building a city in the locality where they had been exposed. There was the superfluous

population of the Alban and Latin towns, to these were added the shepherds: it was natural to hope that

with all these Alba would be small and Lavinium small in comparison with the city which was to be

466 Translation from Roberts 1912.

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founded. These pleasant anticipations were disturbed by the ancestral curse - ambition - which led to a

deplorable quarrel over what was at first a trivial matter. As they were twins and no claim to precedence

could be based on seniority, they decided to consult the tutelary deities of the place by means of augury as

to who was to give his name to the new city, and who was to rule it after it had been founded. Romulus

accordingly selected the Palatine as his station for observation, Remus the Aventine.

[1.7]Remus is said to have been the first to receive an omen: six vultures appeared to him. The augury

had just been announced to Romulus when double the number appeared to him. Each was saluted as king

by his own party. The one side based their claim on the priority of the appearance, the other on the

number of the birds. Then followed an angry altercation; heated passions led to bloodshed; in the tumult

Remus was killed. The more common report is that Remus contemptuously jumped over the newly raised

walls and was forthwith killed by the enraged Romulus, who exclaimed, "So shall it be henceforth with

every one who leaps over my walls." Romulus thus became sole ruler, and the city was called after him,

its founder.

3. Plutarch Romulus 3.1-11.1

3.1 τοῦ δὲ πίστιν ἔχοντος λόγου μάλιστα καὶ πλείστους μάρτυρας τὰ μὲν κυριώτατα πρῶτος εἰς τοὺς

Ἕλληνας ἐξέδωκε Διοκλῆς Πεπαρήθιος, ᾧ καὶ Φάβιος ὁ Πίκτωρ ἐν τοῖς πλείστοις ἐπηκολούθηκε.

γεγόνασι δὲ καὶ περὶ τούτων ἕτεραι διαφοραί: τύπῳ δ᾽ εἰπεῖν τοιοῦτός ἐστι. [2] τῶν ἀπ᾽ Αἰνείου

γεγονότων ἐν Ἄλβῃ βασιλέων εἰς ἀδελφοὺς δύο, Νομήτορα καὶ Ἀμούλιον, ἡ διαδοχὴ καθῆκεν. Ἀμουλίου

δὲ νείμαντος τὰ πάντα δίχα, τῇ δὲ βασιλείᾳ τὰ χρήματα καὶ τὸν ἐκ Τροίας κομισθέντα χρυσὸν ἀντιθέντος,

εἵλετο τὴν βασιλείαν ὁ Νομήτωρ. ἔχων οὖν ὁ Ἀμούλιος τὰ χρήματα καὶ πλέον ἀπ᾽ αὐτῶν δυνάμενος τοῦ

Νομήτορος, τήν τε βασιλείαν ἀφείλετο ῥᾳδίως, καὶ φοβούμενος ἐκ τῆς θυγατρὸς αὐτοῦ γενέσθαι παῖδας,

ἱέρειαν τῆς Ἑστίας ἀπέδειξεν, ἄγαμον καὶ παρθένον ἀεὶ βιωσομένην. [3] ταύτην οἱ μὲν Ἰλίαν, οἱ δὲ Ῥέαν,

οἱ δὲ Σιλουίαν ὀνομάζουσι. φωρᾶται δὲ μετ᾽ οὐ πολὺν χρόνον κυοῦσα παρὰ τὸν καθεστῶτα ταῖς Ἑστιάσι

νόμον, καὶ τὸ μὲν ἀνήκεστα μὴ παθεῖν αὐτὴν ἡ τοῦ βασιλέως θυγάτηρ Ἀνθὼ παρῃτήσατο, δεηθεῖσα τοῦ

πατρός, εἵρχθη δὲ καὶ δίαιταν εἶχεν ἀνεπίμεικτον, ὅπως μὴ λάθοι τεκοῦσα τὸν Ἀμούλιον. ἔτεκε δὲ δύο

παῖδας ὑπερφυεῖς μεγέθει καὶ κάλλει. [4] δι᾽ ὃ καὶ μᾶλλον ὁ Ἀμούλιος φοβηθείς, ἐκέλευσεν αὐτοὺς

ὑπηρέτην λαβόντα ῥῖψαι. τοῦτον ἔνιοι Φαιστύλον ὀνομάζεσθαι λέγουσιν, οἱ δ᾽ οὐ τοῦτον, ἀλλὰ τὸν

ἀνελόμενον. ἐνθέμενος οὖν εἰς σκάφην τὰ βρέφη, κατέβη μὲν ἐπὶ τὸν ποταμὸν ὡς ῥίψων, ἰδὼν δὲ

κατιόντα πολλῷ ῥεύματι καὶ τραχυνόμενον, ἔδεισε προσελθεῖν, ἐγγὺς δὲ τῆς ὄχθης καταθεὶς

ἀπηλλάσσετο. [5] τοῦ δὲ ποταμοῦ κατακλύζοντος ἡ πλημμύρα τὴν σκάφην ὑπολαβοῦσα καὶ μετεωρίσασα

πρᾴως κατήνεγκεν εἰς χωρίον ἐπιεικῶς μαλθακόν, ὃ νῦν Κερμαλὸν καλοῦσι, πάλαι δὲ Γερμανόν, ὡς

ἔοικεν ὅτι καὶ τοὺς ἀδελφοὺς γερμανοὺς ὀνομάζουσιν.

4.1 ἦν δὲ πλησίον ἐρινεός, ὃν Ῥωμινάλιον ἐκάλουν, ἢ διὰ τὸν Ῥωμύλον ὡς οἱ πολλοὶ νομίζουσιν, ἢ διὰ τὸ

τὰ μηρυκώμενα τῶν θρεμμάτων ἐκεῖ διὰ τὴν σκιὰν ἐνδιάζειν, ἢ μάλιστα διὰ τὸν τῶν βρεφῶν θηλασμόν,

ὅτι τήν τε θηλὴν ῥοῦμαν ὠνόμαζον οἱ παλαιοί, καὶ θεόν τινα τῆς ἐκτροφῆς τῶν νηπίων ἐπιμελεῖσθαι

δοκοῦσαν ὀνομάζουσι Ῥουμῖναν, καὶ θύουσιν αὐτῇ νηφάλια, καὶ γάλα τοῖς ἱεροῖς ἐπισπένδουσιν. [2]

ἐνταῦθα δὴ τοῖς βρέφεσι κειμένοις τήν τε λύκαιναν ἱστοροῦσι θηλαζομένην καὶ δρυοκολάπτην τινὰ

παρεῖναι συνεκτρέφοντα καὶ φυλάττοντα. νομίζεται δ᾽ Ἄρεως ἱερὰ τὰ ζῷα, τὸν δὲ δρυοκολάπτην καὶ

διαφερόντως Λατῖνοι σέβονται καὶ τιμῶσιν: ὅθεν οὐχ ἥκιστα πίστιν ἔσχεν ἡ τεκοῦσα τὰ βρέφη τεκεῖν ἐξ

Ἄρεως φάσκουσα. καίτοι τοῦτο παθεῖν αὐτὴν ἐξαπατηθεῖσαν λέγουσιν, ὑπὸ τοῦ Ἀμουλίου

διαπαρθενευθεῖσαν, ἐν ὅπλοις ἐπιφανέντος αὐτῇ καὶ συναρπάσαντος. [3] οἱ δὲ τοὔνομα τῆς τροφοῦ δι᾽

ἀμφιβολίαν ἐπὶ τὸ μυθῶδες ἐκτροπὴν τῇ φήμῃ παρασχεῖν: λούπας γὰρ ἐκάλουν οἱ Λατῖνοι τῶν τε θηρίων

τὰς λυκαίνας καὶ τῶν γυναικῶν τὰς ἑταιρούσας: εἶναι δὲ τοιαύτην τὴν Φαιστύλου γυναῖκα τοῦ τὰ βρέφη

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θρέψαντος, Ἄκκαν Λαρεντίαν ὄνομα. ταύτῃ δὲ καὶ θύουσι Ῥωμαῖοι, καὶ χοὰς ἐπιφέρει τοῦ Ἀπριλίου

μηνὸς αὐτῇ1 ὁ τοῦ Ἄρεως ἱερεύς, καὶ Λαρενταλίαν καλοῦσι τὴν ἑορτήν…

6.1 τὰ δὲ βρέφη Φαιστύλος Ἀμουλίου συφορβὸς ἀνείλετο λαθὼν ἅπαντας, ὡς δ᾽ ἔνιοί φασι τῶν εἰκότων

ἐχόμενοι μᾶλλον, εἰδότος τοῦ Νομήτορος καὶ συγχορηγοῦντος τροφὰς κρύφα τοῖς τρέφουσι. καὶ

γράμματα λέγονται καὶ τἆλλα μανθάνειν οἱ παῖδες εἰς Γαβίους κομισθέντες, ὅσα χρὴ τοὺς εὖ γεγονότας.

[2] κληθῆναι δὲ καὶ τούτους ἀπὸ τῆς θηλῆς ἱστοροῦσι Ῥωμύλον καὶ Ῥέμον, ὅτι θηλάζοντες ὤφθησαν τὸ

θηρίον. ἡ μὲν οὖν ἐν τοῖς σώμασιν εὐγένεια καὶ νηπίων ὄντων εὐθὺς ἐξέφαινε μεγέθει καὶ ἰδέᾳ τὴν φύσιν,

αὐξόμενοι δὲ θυμοειδεῖς ἦσαν ἀμφότεροι καὶ ἀνδρώδεις καὶ φρόνημα πρὸς τὰ φαινόμενα δεινὰ καὶ

τόλμαν ὅλως ἀνέκπληκτον ἔχοντες: ὁ δὲ Ῥωμύλος γνώμῃ τε χρῆσθαι μᾶλλον ἐδόκει καὶ πολιτικὴν ἔχειν

σύνεσιν, ἐν ταῖς περὶ νομὰς καὶ κυνηγίας πρὸς τοὺς γειτνιῶντας ἐπιμειξίαις πολλὴν ἑαυτοῦ παρέχων

κατανόησιν ἡγεμονικοῦ μᾶλλον ἢ πειθαρχικοῦ φύσει γεγονότος. [3] διὸ τοῖς μὲν ὁμοδούλοις ἢ

ταπεινοτέροις προσφιλεῖς ἦσαν, ἐπιστάτας δὲ καὶ διόπους βασιλικοὺς καὶ ἀγελάρχας ὡς μηδὲν αὐτῶν

ἀρετῇ διαφέροντας ὑπερφρονοῦντες, οὔτ᾽ ἀπειλῆς ἐφρόντιζον οὔτ᾽ ὀργῆς. ἐχρῶντο δὲ διαίταις καὶ

διατριβαῖς ἐλευθερίοις, οὐ τὴν σχολὴν ἐλευθέριον ἡγούμενοι καὶ τὴν ἀπονίαν, ἀλλὰ γυμνάσια καὶ θήρας

καὶ δρόμους καὶ τὸ λῃστὰς ἀλέξασθαι καὶ κλῶπας ἑλεῖν καὶ βίας ἐξελέοθαι τοὺς ἀδικουμένους. ἦσαν δὴ

διὰ ταῦτα περιβόητοι.

7.1 γενομένης δέ τινος πρὸς τοὺς Νομήτορος βουκόλους τοῖς Ἀμουλίου διαφορᾶς καὶ βοσκημάτων

ἐλάσεως, οὐκ ἀνασχόμενοι συγκόπτουσι μὲν αὐτοὺς καὶ τρέπονται, ἀποτέμνονται δὲ τῆς ἀγέλης συχνήν.

ἀγανακτοῦντος δὲ τοῦ Νομήτορος ὠλιγώρουν, συνῆγον δὲ καὶ προσεδέχοντο πολλοὺς μὲν ἀπόρους,

πολλοὺς δὲ δούλους, θράσους ἀποστατικοῦ καὶ φρονήματος ἀρχὰς ἐνδιδόντες. [2] τοῦ δὲ Ῥωμύλου πρός

τινα θυσίαν ἀποτραπομένου （ καὶ γὰρ ἦν φιλοθύτης καὶ μαντικός）, οἱ τοῦ Νομήτορος βοτῆρες τῷ

Ῥέμῳ μετ᾽ ὀλίγων βαδίζοντι προστυχόντες ἐμάχοντο, καὶ γενομένων πληγῶν καὶ τραυμάτων ἐν

ἀμφοτέροις, ἐκράτησαν οἱ τοῦ Νομήτορος καὶ συνέλαβον ζῶντα τὸν Ῥέμον. ἀναχθέντος οὖν αὐτοῦ πρὸς

τὸν Νομήτορα καὶ κατηγορηθέντος, αὐτὸς μὲν οὐκ ἐκόλασε, χαλεπὸν ὄντα δεδιὼς τὸν ἀδελφόν, ἐλθὼν δὲ

πρὸς ἐκεῖνον ἐδεῖτο τυχεῖν δίκης, ἀδελφὸς ὢν καὶ καθυβρισμένος ὑπ᾽ οἰκετῶν ἐκείνου βασιλέως ὄντος.

[3] συναγανακτούντων δὲ τῶν ἐν Ἄλβῃ καὶ δεινὰ πάσχειν οἰομένων τὸν ἄνδρα παρ᾽ ἀξίαν, κινηθεὶς ὁ

Ἀμούλιος αὐτῷ παραδίδωσι τῷ Νομήτορι τὸν Ῥέμον, ὅ τι βούλοιτο χρήσασθαι. παραλαβὼν δ᾽ ἐκεῖνος,

ὡς ἧκεν οἴκαδε, θαυμάζων μὲν ἀπὸ τοῦ σώματος τὸν νεανίσκον, ὑπερφέροντα μεγέθει καὶ ῥώμῃ πάντας,

ἐνορῶν δὲ τῷ προσώπῳ τὸ θαρραλέον καὶ ἰταμὸν τῆς ψυχῆς ἀδούλωτον καὶ ἀπαθὲς ὑπὸ τῶν παρόντων,

[4] ἔργα δ᾽ αὐτοῦ καὶ πράξεις ὅμοια τοῖς βλεπομένοις ἀκούων, τὸ δὲ μέγιστον ὡς ἔοικε θεοῦ

συμπαρόντος καὶ συνεπευθύνοντος ἀρχὰς μεγάλων πραγμάτων, ἁπτόμενος ὑπονοίᾳ καὶ τύχῃ τῆς

ἀληθείας, ἀνέκρινεν ὅστις εἴη καὶ ὅπως γένοιτο, φωνῇ τε πρᾳείᾳ καὶ φιλανθρώπῳ βλέμματι πίστιν αὐτῷ

μετ᾽ ἐλπίδος ἐνδιδούς. [5] ὁ δὲ θαρρῶν ἔλεγεν: ‘ἀλλ᾽ οὐδὲν ἀποκρύψομαί σε: καὶ γὰρ εἶναι δοκεῖς

Ἀμουλίου βασιλικώτερος. ἀκούεις γὰρ καὶ ἀνακρίνεις πρὶν ἢ κολάζειν: ὁ δ᾽ ἀκρίτους ἐκδίδωσι. πρότερον

μὲν ἑαυτοὺς οἰκετῶν βασιλέως Φαιστύλου καὶ Λαρεντίας ἠπιστάμεθα παῖδας （ ἐσμὲν δὲ δίδυμοι）,

γενόμενοι δ᾽ ἐν αἰτίᾳ πρὸς σὲ καὶ διαβολαῖς καὶ τοῖς περὶ ψυχῆς ἀγῶσιν, ἀκούομεν μεγάλα περὶ ἑαυτῶν:

εἰ δὲ πιστά, κρινεῖν ἔοικε νῦν ὁ κίνδυνος. ’ ‘ [6] γοναὶ μὲν γὰρ ἡμῶν ἀπόρρητοι λέγονται, τροφαὶ δὲ καὶ

τιθηνήσεις ἀτοπώτεραι νεογνῶν, οἷς ἐρρίφημεν οἰωνοῖς καὶ θηρίοις, ὑπὸ τούτων τρεφόμενοι, μαστῷ

λυκαίνης καὶ δρυοκολάπτου ψωμίσμασιν, ἐν σκάφῃ τινὶ κείμενοι παρὰ τὸν μέγαν ποταμόν. ἔστι δ᾽ ἡ

σκάφη καὶ σῴζεται, χαλκοῖς ὑποζώσμασι γραμμάτων ἀμυδρῶν ἐγκεχαραγμένων, ἃ γένοιτ᾽ ἂν ὕστερον

ἴσως ἀνωφελῆ γνωρίσματα τοῖς τοκεῦσιν ἡμῶν ἀπολομένων.’ [7] ὁ μὲν οὖν Νομήτωρ ἔκ τε τῶν λόγων

τούτων καὶ πρὸς τὴν ὄψιν εἰκάζων τὸν χρόνον, οὐκ ἔφευγε τὴν ἐλπίδα σαίνουσαν, ἀλλ᾽ ἐφρόντιζεν ὅπως

τῇ θυγατρὶ περὶ τούτων κρύφα συγγενόμενος φράσειεν: ἐφρουρεῖτο γὰρ ἔτι καρτερῶς.

8.1 ὁ δὲ Φαιστύλος ἀκούσας τήν τε σύλληψιν τοῦ Ῥέμου καὶ τὴν παράδοσιν, τὸν μὲν Ῥωμύλον ἠξίου

βοηθεῖν, τότε σαφῶς διδάξας περὶ τῆς γενέσεως: πρότερον δ᾽ ὑπῃνίττετο καὶ παρεδήλου τοσοῦτον ὅσον

261

προσέχοντας μὴ μικρὸν φρονεῖν: αὐτὸς δὲ τὴν σκάφην κομίζων ἐχώρει πρὸς τὸν Νομήτορα, σπουδῆς καὶ

δέους μεστὸς ὢν διὰ τὸν καιρόν. [2] ὑποψίαν οὖν τοῖς περὶ τὰς πύλας φρουροῖς τοῦ βασιλέως παρέχων,

καὶ ὑφορώμενος1 ὑπ᾽ αὐτῶν καὶ ταραττόμενος πρὸς τὰς ἀνακρίσεις, οὐκ ἔλαθε τὴν σκάφην τῷ χλαμυδίῳ

περικαλύπτων. ἦν δέ τις ἐν αὐτοῖς ἀπὸ τύχης τῶν τὰ παιδάρια ῥῖψαι λαβόντων καὶ γεγονότων περὶ τὴν

ἔκθεσιν. οὗτος ἰδὼν τὴν σκάφην τότε καὶ γνωρίσας τῇ κατασκευῇ καὶ τοῖς γράμμασιν, ἔτυχεν ὑπονοίᾳ

τοῦ ὄντος καὶ οὐ παρημέλησεν, ἀλλὰ φράσας τὸ πρᾶγμα τῷ βασιλεῖ κατέστησεν εἰς ἔλεγχον. [3] ἐν δὲ

πολλαῖς καὶ μεγάλαις ἀνάγκαις ὁ Φαιστύλος οὔτ᾽ ἀήττητον ἑαυτὸν διεφύλαξεν, οὔτε παντάπασιν

ἐκβιασθείς, σῴζεσθαι μὲν ὡμολόγησε τοὺς παῖδας, εἶναι δ᾽ ἄπωθεν τῆς Ἄλβης ἔφη νέμοντας: αὐτὸς δὲ

τοῦτο πρὸς τὴν Ἰλίαν φέρων βαδίζειν, πολλάκις ἰδεῖν καὶ θιγεῖν ἐπ᾽ ἐλπίδι βεβαιοτέρᾳ τῶν τέκνων

ποθήσασαν. [4] ὅπερ οὖν οἱ ταραττόμενοι καὶ μετὰ δέους ἢ πρὸς ὀργὴν πράττοντες ὁτιοῦν ἐπιεικῶς

πάσχουσι, συνέπεσε παθεῖν τὸν Ἀμούλιον. ἄνδρα γὰρ ἄλλῃ τε χρηστὸν καὶ τοῦ Νομήτορος φίλον ὑπὸ

σπουδῆς ἔπεμψε, διαπυθέσθαι τοῦ Νομήτορος κελεύσας, εἴ τις ἥκοι λόγος εἰς αὐτὸν ὑπὲρ τῶν παίδων ὡς

περιγενομένων. [5] ἀφικόμενος οὖν ὁ ἄνθρωπος καὶ θεασάμενος ὅσον οὔπω τὸν Ῥέμον ἐν περιβολαῖς καὶ

φιλοφροσύναις τοῦ Νομήτορος, τήν τε πίστιν ἰσχυρὰν ἐποίησε τῆς ἐλπίδος, καὶ παρεκελεύσατο τῶν

πραγμάτων ὀξέως ἀντιλαμβάνεσθαι, καὶ συνῆν αὐτοῖς ἤδη καὶ συνέπραττεν. ὁ δὲ καιρὸς οὐδὲ

βουλομένοις ὀκνεῖν παρεῖχεν. ὁ γὰρ Ῥωμύλος ἐγγὺς ἦν ἤδη, καὶ πρὸς αὐτὸν ἐξέθεον οὐκ ὀλίγοι τῶν

πολιτῶν μίσει καὶ φόβῳ τοῦ Ἀμουλίου. [6] πολλὴν δὲ καὶ σὺν αὑτῷ δύναμιν ἦγε συλλελοχισμένην εἰς

ἑκατοστύας: ἑκάστης δ᾽ ἀνὴρ ἀφηγεῖτο χόρτου καὶ ὕλης ἀγκαλίδα κοντῷ περικειμένην ἀνέχων: μανίπλα

ταύτας Λατῖνοι καλοῦσιν: ἀπ᾽ ἐκείνου δὲ καὶ νῦν ἐν τοῖς στρατεύμασι τούτους μανιπλαρίους

ὀνομάζουσιν. ἅμα δὲ τοῦ μὲν Ῥέμου τοὺς ἐντὸς ἀφιστάντος, τοῦ δὲ Ῥωμύλου προσάγοντος ἔξωθεν, οὔτε

πράξας οὐδὲν ὁ τύραννος οὔτε βουλεύσας σωτήριον ἑαυτῷ διὰ τὸ ἀπορεῖν καὶ ταράττεσθαι, καταληφθεὶς

ἀπέθανεν. [7] ὧν τὰ πλεῖστα καὶ Φαβίου λέγοντος καὶ τοῦ Πεπαρηθίου Διοκλέους （FHG III 78）, ὃς

δοκεῖ πρῶτος ἐκδοῦναι Ῥώμης κτίσιν, ὕποπτον μὲν ἐνίοις ἐστὶ τὸ δραματικὸν καὶ πλασματῶδες, οὐ δεῖ δ᾽

ἀπιστεῖν τὴν τύχην ὁρῶντας οἵων ποιημάτων δημιουργός ἐστι, καὶ τὰ Ῥωμαίων πράγματα λογιζομένους,

ὡς οὐκ ἂν ἐνταῦθα προὔβη δυνάμεως, μὴ θείαν τιν᾽ ἀρχὴν λαβόντα καὶ μηδὲν μέγα μηδὲ παράδοξον

ἔχουσαν.

9.1 Ἀμουλίου δ᾽ ἀποθανόντος καὶ τῶν πραγμάτων καταστάντων, Ἄλβην μὲν οὔτ᾽ οἰκεῖν μὴ ἄρχοντες οὔτ᾽

ἄρχειν ἐβούλοντο τοῦ μητροπάτορος ζῶντος, ἀποδόντες δὲ τὴν ἡγεμονίαν ἐκείνῳ καὶ τῇ μητρὶ τιμὰς

πρεπούσας, ἔγνωσαν οἰκεῖν καθ᾽ ἑαυτούς, πόλιν ἐν οἷς χωρίοις ἐξ ἀρχῆς ἐνετράφησαν κτίσαντες: αὕτη

γὰρ εὐπρεπεστάτη τῶν αἰτιῶν ἐστιν. [2] ἦν δ᾽ ἴσως ἀναγκαῖον, οἰκετῶν καὶ ἀποστατῶν πολλῶν

ἠθροισμένων πρὸς αὐτούς, ἢ καταλυθῆναι παντάπασι τούτων διασπαρέντων, ἢ συνοικεῖν ἰδίᾳ μετ᾽ αὐτῶν.

ὅτι γὰρ οὐκ ἠξίουν οἱ τὴν Ἄλβην οἰκοῦντες ἀναμειγνύναι τοὺς ἀποστάτας ἑαυτοῖς οὐδὲ προσδέχεσθαι

πολίτας, ἐδήλωσε πρῶτον μὲν τὸ περὶ τὰς γυναῖκας ἔργον, οὐχ ὕβρει τολμηθὲν ἀλλὰ δι᾽ ἀνάγκην,

ἑκουσίων ἀπορίᾳ γάμων: ἐτίμησαν γὰρ αὐτὰς ἁρπάσαντες περιττῶς. [3] ἔπειτα τῆς πόλεως τὴν πρώτην

ἵδρυσιν λαμβανούσης, ἱερόν τι φύξιμον τοῖς ἀφισταμένοις κατασκευάσαντες, ὃ Θεοῦ Ἀσυλαίου

προσηγόρευον, ἐδέχοντο πάντας, οὔτε δεσπόταις δοῦλον οὔτε θῆτα χρήσταις οὔτ᾽ ἄρχουσιν ἀνδροφόνον

ἐκδιδόντες, ἀλλὰ μαντεύματι πυθοχρήστῳ πᾶσι βεβαιοῦν τὴν ἀσυλίαν φάσκοντες, ὥστε πληθῦσαι ταχὺ

τὴν πόλιν, ἐπεὶ τάς γε πρώτας ἑστίας λέγουσι τῶν χιλίων μὴ πλείονας γενέσθαι. ταῦτα μὲν οὖν ὕστερον.

[4] Ὁρμήσασι δὲ πρὸς τὸν συνοικισμὸν αὐτοῖς εὐθὺς ἦν διαφορὰ περὶ τοῦ τόπου. Ῥωμύλος μὲν οὖν τὴν

καλουμένην Ῥώμην κουαδράταν （ ὅπερ ἐστὶ τετράγωνον） ἔκτισε, καὶ ἐκεῖνον ἐβούλετο πολίζειν τὸν

τόπον, Ῥέμος δὲ χωρίον τι τοῦ Ἀβεντίνου καρτερόν, ὃ δι᾽ ἐκεῖνον μὲν ὠνομάσθη Ῥεμωρία, νῦν δὲ

Ῥιγνάριον καλεῖται. [5] συνθεμένων δὲ τὴν ἔριν ὄρνισιν αἰσίοις βραβεῦσαι, καὶ καθεζομένων χωρίς, ἕξ

φασι τῷ Ῥέμῳ, διπλασίους δὲ τῷ Ῥωμύλῳ προφανῆναι γῦπας: οἱ δὲ τὸν μὲν Ῥέμον ἀληθῶς ἰδεῖν,

ψεύσασθαι δὲ τὸν Ῥωμύλον, ἐλθόντος δὲ τοῦ Ῥέμου, τότε τοὺς δώδεκα τῷ Ῥωμύλῳ φανῆναι: διὸ καὶ νῦν

μάλιστα χρῆσθαι γυψὶ Ῥωμαίους οἰωνιζομένους. Ἡρόδωρος δ᾽ ὁ Ποντικὸς ἱστορεῖ καὶ τὸν Ἡρακλέα

χαίρειν γυπὸς ἐπὶ πράξει φανέντος. [6] ἔστι μὲν γὰρ ἀβλαβέστατον ζῴων ἁπάντων, μηδὲν ὧν σπείρουσιν

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ἢ φυτεύουσιν ἢ νέμουσιν ἄνθρωποι σινόμενον, τρέφεται δ᾽ ἀπὸ νεκρῶν σωμάτων, ἀποκτίννυσι δ᾽ οὐδὲν

οὐδὲ λυμαίνεται ψυχὴν ἔχον, πτηνοῖς δὲ διὰ συγγένειαν οὐδὲ νεκροῖς πρόσεισιν. ἀετοὶ δὲ καὶ γλαῦκες καὶ

ἱέρακες ζῶντα κόπτουσι τὰ ὁμόφυλα καὶ φονεύουσι: καίτοι κατ᾽ Αἰσχύλον, ὄρνιθος ὄρνις πῶς ἂν ἁγνεύοι

φαγών; [7] ἔτι τἆλλα μὲν ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖς ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν ἀναστρέφεται καὶ παρέχει διὰ παντὸς αἴσθησιν

ἑαυτῶν, ὁ δὲ γὺψ σπάνιόν ἐστι θέαμα, καὶ νεοσσοῖς γυπὸς οὐ ῥᾳδίως ἴσμεν ἐντετυχηκότες, ἀλλὰ καὶ

παρέσχεν ἐνίοις ἄτοπον ὑπόνοιαν, ἔξωθεν αὐτοὺς ἀφ᾽ ἑτέρας τινὸς γῆς καταίρειν ἐνταῦθα, τὸ σπάνιον καὶ

μὴ συνεχές, οἷον οἱ μάντεις ἀξιοῦσιν εἶναι τὸ μὴ κατὰ φύσιν μηδ᾽ ἀφ᾽ αὑτοῦ, πομπῇ δὲ θείᾳ φαινόμενον.

10.1 ἐπεὶ δ᾽ ἔγνω τὴν ἀπάτην ὁ Ῥέμος, ἐχαλέπαινε, καὶ τοῦ Ῥωμύλου τάφρον ὀρύττοντος ᾗ τὸ τεῖχος

ἔμελλε κυκλοῦσθαι, τὰ μὲν ἐχλεύαζε τῶν ἔργων, τοῖς δ᾽ ἐμποδὼν ἐγένετο. τέλος δὲ διαλλόμενον αὐτὸν οἱ

μὲν αὐτοῦ Ῥωμύλου πατάξαντος, οἱ δὲ τῶν ἑταίρων τινὸς Κέλερος, ἐνταῦθα πεσεῖν λέγουσιν. 3] ἔπεσε δὲ

καὶ Φαιστύλος ἐν τῇ μάχῃ καὶ Πλειστῖνος, ὃν ἀδελφὸν ὄντα Φαιστύλου συνεκθρέψαι τοὺς περὶ τὸν

Ῥωμύλον ἱστοροῦσιν. ὁ μὲν οὖν Κέλερ εἰς Τυρρηνίαν μετέστη, καὶ ἀπ᾽ ἐκείνου τοὺς ταχεῖς οἱ Ῥωμαῖοι

καὶ ὀξεῖς κέλερας ὀνομάζουσι: καὶ Κόιντον Μέτελλον, ὅτι τοῦ πατρὸς ἀποθανόντος ἀγῶνα μονομάχων

ἡμέραις ὀλίγαις ἐποίησε, θαυμάσαντες τὸ τάχος τῆς παρασκευῆς Κέλερα προσηγόρευσαν.

11.1 ὁ δὲ Ῥωμύλος ἐν τῇ Ῥεμωρίᾳ θάψας τὸν Ῥέμον ὁμοῦ καὶ τοὺς τροφεῖς, ᾤκιζε τὴν πόλιν...

3. But467 the story which has the widest credence and the greatest number of vouchers was first published

among the Greeks, in its principal details, by Diodes of Peparethus, and Fabius Pictor follows him in most

points. Here again there are variations in the story, but its general outline is as follows. [2] The

descendants of Aeneas reigned as kings in Alba, and the succession devolved at length upon two brothers,

Numitor and Amulius. Amulius divided the whole inheritance into two parts, setting the treasures and the

gold which had been brought from Troy over against the kingdom, and Numitor chose the kingdom.

Amulius, then, in possession of the treasure, and made more powerful by it than Numitor, easily took the

kingdom away from his brother, and fearing lest that brother's daughter should have children, made her a

priestess of Vesta, bound to live unwedded and a virgin all her days. [3] Her name is variously given as

Ilia, or Rhea, or Silvia. Not long after this, she was discovered to be with child, contrary to the established

law for the Vestals. She did not, however, suffer the capital punishment which was her due, because the

king's daughter, Antho, interceded successfully in her behalf, but she was kept in solitary confinement,

that she might not be delivered without the knowledge of Amulius. Delivered she was of two boys, and

their size and beauty were more than human. [4] Wherefore Amulius was all the more afraid, and ordered

a servant to take the boys and cast them away. This servant's name was Faustulus, according to some, but

others give this name to the man who took the boys up. Obeying the king's orders, the servant put the

babes into a trough and went down towards the river, purposing to cast them in; but when he saw that the

stream was much swollen and violent, he was afraid to go close up to it, and setting his burden down near

the bank, went his way. [5] Then the overflow of the swollen river took and bore up the trough, floating it

gently along, and carried it down to a fairly smooth spot which is now called Kermalus, but formerly

Germanus, perhaps because brothers are called ‘germani.’

4. Now there was a wild fig-tree hard by, which they called Ruminalis, either from Romulus, as is

generally thought, or because cud-chewing, or ruminating, animals spent the noon-tide there for the sake

of the shade, or best of all, from the suckling of the babes there; for the ancient Romans called the teat

‘ruma,’ and a certain goddess, who is thought to preside over the rearing of young children, is still called

Rumilia, in sacrificing to whom no wine is used, and libations of milk are poured over her victims. [2]

467 Translation from Perrin 1914.

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Here, then, the babes lay, and the she-wolf of story here gave them suck,1 and a woodpecker came to help

in feeding them and to watch over them. Now these creatures are considered sacred to Mars, and the

woodpecker is held in especial veneration and honour by the Latins, and this was the chief reason why the

mother was believed when she declared that Mars was the father of her babes. And yet it is said that she

was deceived into doing this, and was really deflowered by Amulius himself, who came to her in armour

and ravished her. [3] But some say that the name of the children's nurse, by its ambiguity, deflected the

story into the realm of the fabulous. For the Latins not only called she-wolves ‘lupae,’ but also women of

loose character, and such a woman was the wife of Faustulus, the foster-father of the infants, Acca

Larentia by name. Yet the Romans sacrifice also to her, and in the month of April the priest of Mars pours

libations in her honour, and the festival is called Larentalia.

6. As for the babes, they were taken up and reared by Faustulus, a swineherd of Amulius, and no man

knew of it; or, as some say with a closer approach to probability, Numitor did know of it, and secretly

aided the foster-parents in their task. And it is said that the boys were taken to Gabii to learn letters and

the other branches of knowledge which are meet for those of noble birth. [2] Moreover, we are told that

they were named, from ‘ruma,’ the Latin word for teat, Romulus and Romus (or Remus), because they

were seen sucking the wild beast. Well, the noble size and beauty of their bodies, even when they were

infants, betokened their natural disposition; and when they grew up, they were both of them courageous

and manly, with spirits which courted apparent danger, and a daring which nothing could terrify. But

Romulus seemed to exercise his judgement more, and to have political sagacity, while in his intercourse

with their neighbours in matters pertaining to herding and hunting, he gave them the impression that he

was born to command rather than to obey. [3] With their equals or inferiors they were therefore on

friendly terms, but they looked down upon the overseers, bailiffs, and chief herdsmen of the king,

believing them to be no better men than themselves, and disregarded both their threats and their anger.

They also applied themselves to generous occupations and pursuits, not esteeming sloth and idleness

generous, but rather bodily exercise, hunting, running, driving off robbers, capturing thieves, and rescuing

the oppressed from violence. For these things, indeed, they were famous far and near.

7. When a quarrel arose between the herdsmen of Numitor and Amulius, and some of the latter's cattle

were driven off, the brothers would not suffer it, but fell upon the robbers, put them to flight, and

intercepted most of the booty. To the displeasure of Numitor they gave little heed, but collected and took

into their company many needy men and many slaves, exhibiting thus the beginnings of seditious

boldness and temper. [2] But once when Romulus was busily engaged in some sacrifice, being fond of

sacrifices and of divination, the herdsmen of Numitor fell in with Remus as he was walking with few

companions, and a battle ensued. After blows and wounds given and received on both sides, the herdsmen

of Numitor prevailed and took Remus prisoner, who was then carried before Numitor and denounced.

Numitor himself did not punish his prisoner, because he was in fear of his brother Amulius, who was

severe, but went to Amulius and asked for justice, since he was his brother, and had been insulted by the

royal servants. [3] The people of Alba, too, were incensed, and thought that Numitor had been

undeservedly outraged. Amulius was therefore induced to hand Remus over to Numitor himself, to treat

him as he saw fit. When Numitor came home, after getting Remus into his hands, he was amazed at the

young man's complete superiority in stature and strength of body, and perceiving by his countenance that

the boldness and vigour of his soul were unsubdued and unharmed by his present circumstances, [4] and

hearing that his acts and deeds corresponded with his looks, but chiefly, as it would seem, because a

divinity was aiding and assisting in the inauguration of great events, he grasped the truth by a happy

conjecture, and asked him who he was and what were the circumstances of his birth, while his gentle

voice and kindly look inspired the youth with confidence and hope. [5] Then Remus boldly said: ‘Indeed,

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I will hide nothing from thee; for thou seemest to be more like a king than Amulius; thou hearest and

weighest before punishing, but he surrenders men without a trial. Formerly we believed ourselves (my

twin brother and I) children of Faustulus and Larentia, servants of the king; but since being accused and

slandered before thee and brought in peril of our lives, we hear great things concerning ourselves;

whether they are true or not, our present danger is likely to decide. [6] Our birth is said to have been

secret, and our nursing and nurture as infants stranger still. We were cast out to birds of prey and wild

beasts, only to be nourished by them,—by the dugs of a she-wolf and the morsels of a woodpecker, as we

lay in a little trough by the side of the great river. The trough still exists and is kept safe, and its bronze

girdles are engraved with letters now almost effaced, which may perhaps hereafter prove unavailing

tokens of recognition for our parents, [7] when we are dead and gone.’ Then Numitor, hearing these

words, and conjecturing the time which had elapsed from the young man's looks, welcomed the hope that

flattered him, and thought how he might talk with his daughter concerning these matters in a secret

interview; for she was still kept in the closest custody.

8. But Faustulus, on hearing that Remus had been seized and delivered up to Numitor, called upon

Romulus to go to his aid, and then told him clearly the particulars of their birth; before this also he had

hinted at the matter darkly, and revealed enough to give them ambitious thoughts when they dwelt upon

it. He himself took the trough and went to see Numitor, full of anxious fear lest he might not be in season.

[2] Naturally enough, the guards at the king's gate were suspicious of him, and when he was scrutinized

by them and made confused replies to their questions, he was found to be concealing the trough in his

cloak. Now by chance there was among the guards one of those who had taken the boys to cast them into

the river, and were concerned in their exposure. This man, now seeing the trough, and recognizing it by

its make and inscription, conceived a suspicion of the truth, and without any delay told the matter to the

king, and brought the man before him to be examined. [3] In these dire and pressing straits, Faustulus did

not entirely hold his own, nor yet was his secret wholly forced from him. He admitted that the boys were

alive and well, but said they lived at a distance from Alba as herdsmen; he himself was carrying the

trough to Ilia, who had often yearned to see and handle it, in confirmation of her hope for her children. [4]

As, then, men naturally fare who are confounded, and act with fear or in a passion, so it fell out that

Amulius fared. For he sent in all haste an excellent man and a friend of Numitor's, with orders to learn

from Numitor whether any report had come to him of the children's being alive. [5] When, accordingly,

the man was come, and beheld Remus almost in the affectionate embraces of Numitor, he confirmed them

in their confident hope, and entreated them to proceed at once to action, promptly joining their party

himself and furthering their cause. And the opportunity admitted of no delay, even had they wished it; for

Romulus was now close at hand, and many of the citizens who hated and feared Amulius were running

forth to join him. [6] He was also leading a large force with him, divided into companies of a hundred

men, each company headed by a man who bore aloft a handful of hay and shrubs tied round a pole (the

Latin word for handful is ‘manipulus,’ and hence in their armies they still call the men in such companies

‘manipulares.’). And when Remus incited the citizens within the city to revolt, and at the same time

Romulus attacked from without, the tyrant, without taking a single step or making any plan for his own

safety, from sheer perplexity and confusion, was seized and put to death. [7] Although most of these

particulars are related by Fabius and Diodes of Peparethus, who seems to have been the first to publish a

‘Founding of Rome,’ some are suspicious of their fictitious and fabulous quality; but we should not be

incredulous when we see what a poet fortune sometimes is, and when we reflect that the Roman state

would not have attained to its present power, had it not been of a divine origin, and one which was

attended by great marvels.

9. Amulius being now dead, and matters settled in the city, the brothers were neither willing to live in

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Alba, unless as its rulers, nor to be its rulers while their grandfather was alive. Having therefore restored

the government to him and paid fitting honours to their mother, they resolved to dwell by themselves, and

to found a city in the region where, at the first, they were nourished and sustained; this surely seems a

most fitting reason for their course. [2] But perhaps it was necessary, now that many slaves and fugitives

gathered about them. either to disperse these and have no following at all, or else to dwell apart with

them. For that the residents of Alba would not consent to give the fugitives the privilege of intermarriage

with them, nor even receive them as fellow-citizens, is clear, in the first place, from the rape of the Sabine

women, which was not a deed of wanton daring, but one of necessity, owing to the lack of marriages by

consent; for they certainly honoured the women, when they had carried them off, beyond measure. [3]

And in the second place, when their city was first founded, they made a sanctuary of refuge for all

fugitives, which they called the sanctuary of the God of Asylum. There they received all who came,

delivering none up, neither slave to masters, nor debtor to creditors, nor murderer to magistrates, but

declaring it to be in obedience to an oracle from Delphi that they made the asylum secure for all men.

Therefore the city was soon full of people, for they say that the first houses numbered no more than a

thousand. This, however, was later. [4] But when they set out to establish their city, a dispute at once

arose concerning the site. Romulus, accordingly, built Roma Quadrata (which means square),and wished

to have the city on that site; but Remus laid out a strong precinct on the Aventine hill, which was named

from him Remonium, but now is called Rignarium. [5] Agreeing to settle their quarrel by the flight of

birds of omen,4 and taking their seats on the ground apart from one another, six vultures, they say, were

seen by Remus, and twice that number by Romulus. Some, however, say that whereas Remus truly saw

his six, Romulus lied about his twelve, but that when Remus came to him, then he did see the twelve.

Hence it is that at the present time also the Romans chiefly regard vultures when they take auguries from

the flight of birds. Herodorus Ponticus relates that Hercules also was glad to see a vulture present itself

when he was upon an exploit. [6] For it is the least harmful of all creatures, injures no grain, fruit-tree, or

cattle, and lives on carrion. But it does not kill or maltreat anything that has life, and as for birds, it will

not touch them even when they are dead, since they are of its own species. But eagles, owls, and hawks

smite their own kind when alive, and kill them. And yet, in the words of Aeschylus: “How shall a bird that

preys on fellow bird be clean?” [7] Besides, other birds are, so to speak, always in our eyes, and let

themselves be seen continually; but the vulture is a rare sight, and it is not easy to come upon a vulture's

young, nay, some men have been led into a strange suspicion that the birds come from some other and

foreign land to visit us here, so rare and intermittent is their appearance, which soothsayers think should

be true of what does not present itself naturally, nor spontaneously, but by a divine sending.

10. When Remus knew of the deceit, he was enraged, and as Romulus was digging a trench where his

city's wall was to run, he ridiculed some parts of the work, and obstructed others. At last, when he leaped

across it, he was smitten (by Romulus himself, as some say; according to others, by Celer, one of his

companions), and fell dead there. [2] Faustulus also fell in the battle, as well as Pleistinus, who was a

brother of Faustulus, and assisted him in rearing Romulus and Remus. Celer, at any rate, betook himself

to Tuscany, and from him the Romans call such as are swift and speedy, ‘celeres.’ Quintus Metellus, for

instance, when his father died, took only a few days to provide gladiatorial contests in his honour, and the

people were so amazed at his speed in preparing them that they gave him the surname of Celer.

11. Romulus buried Remus, together with his foster-fathers, in the Remonia, and then set himself to

building his city…

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APPENDIX II – HERSILIA IN THE HISTORIANS

1) Livy 1.9-13

9. iam res Romana adeo erat ualida ut cuilibet finitimarum ciuitatum bello par esset; sed penuria

mulierum hominis aetatem duratura magnitudo erat, quippe quibus nec domi spes prolis nec cum finitimis

conubia essent. [2] tum ex consilio patrum Romulus legatos circa uicinas gentes misit, qui societatem

conubiumque nouo populo peterent: [3] urbes quoque, ut cetera, ex infimo nasci; dein, quas sua uirtus ac

di iuuent, magnas opes sibi magnumque nomen facere; [4] satis scire origini Romanae et deos adfuisse et

non defuturam uirtutem; proinde ne grauarentur homines cum hominibus sanguinem ac genus miscere. [5]

nusquam benigne legatio audita est; adeo simul spernebant, simul tantam in medio crescentem molem sibi

ac posteris suis metuebant. A plerisque rogitantibus dimissi ecquod feminis quoque asylum aperuissent;

id enim demum conpar conubium fore. [6] aegre id Romana pubes passa, et haud dubie ad uim spectare

res coepit. cui tempus locumque aptum ut daret Romulus, aegritudinem animi dissimulans ludos ex

industria parat Neptuno equestri sollemnis; Consualia uocat. [7] indici deinde finitimis spectaculum iubet,

quantoque apparatu tum sciebant aut poterant, concelebrant, ut rem claram exspectatamque facerent. [8]

multi mortales conuenere, studio etiam uidendae nouae urbis, maxime proximi quique, Caeninenses,

Crustumini, Antemnates; [9] etiam Sabinorum omnis multitudo cum liberis ac coniugibus uenit. inuitati

hospitaliter per domos cum situm moeniaque et frequentem tectis urbem uidissent, mirantur tam breui

rem Romanam creuisse. [10] ubi spectaculi tempus uenit deditaeque eo mentes cum oculis erant, tum ex

composito orta uis, signoque dato iuuentus Romana ad rapiendas uirgines discurrit. [11] magna pars forte,

in quem quaeque inciderat, raptae: quasdam forma excellentes primoribus patrum destinatas ex plebe

homines, quibus datum negotium erat, domos deferebant: [12] unam longe ante alias specie ac

pulchritudine insignem a globo Thalassii cuiusdam raptam ferunt, multisque sciscitantibus cuinam eam

ferrent, identidem, ne quis uiolaret, Thalassio ferri clamitatum; inde nuptialem hanc uocem factam. [13]

turbato per metum ludicro maesti parentes uirginum profugiunt, incusantes uiolati hospitii scelus

deumque inuocantes, cuius ad sollemne ludosque per fas ac fidem decepti uenissent. [14] nec raptis aut

spes de se melior aut indignatio est minor. sed ipse Romulus circumibat docebatque patrum id superbia

factum, qui conubium finitimis negassent; illas tamen in matrimonio, in societate fortunarum omnium

ciuitatisque, et quo nihil carius humano generi sit, [15] liberum fore; mollirent modo iras et, quibus fors

corpora dedisset, darent animos. saepe ex iniuria postmodum gratiam ortam, eoque melioribus usuras

uiris, quod adnisurus pro se quisque sit ut, cum suam uicem functus officio sit, parentium etiam

patriaeque expleat desiderium. [16] accedebant blanditiae uirorum factum purgantium cupiditate atque

amore, quae maxime ad muliebre ingenium efficaces preces sunt…

11. dum ea ibi Romani gerunt, Antemnatium exercitus per occasionem ac solitudinem hostiliter in fines

Romanos incursionem facit. raptim et ad hos Romana legio ducta palatos in agris oppressit. [2] fusi igitur

primo impetu et clamore hostes; oppidum captum; duplicique victoria ouantem Romulum Hersilia

coniunx precibus raptarum fatigata orat, ut parentibus earum det ueniam et in ciuitatem accipiat; ita rem

coalescere concordia posse. [3] facile impetratum. inde contra Crustuminos profectus bellum inferentes.

ibi minus etiam, quod alienis cladibus ceciderant animi, certaminis fuit. utroque coloniae missae; [4]

plures inuenti, qui propter ubertatem terrae in Crustuminum nomina darent. et Romam inde frequenter

migratum est, a parentibus maxime ac propinquis raptarum.

[5] nouissimum ab Sabinis bellum ortum, multoque id maximum fuit; nihil enim per iram aut cupiditatem

actum est, nec ostenderunt bellum prius quam intulerunt. [6] consilio etiam additus dolus. Sp. Tarpeius

Romanae praeerat arci. huius filiam uirginem auro corrumpit Tatius, ut armatos in arcem accipiat; aquam

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forte ea tum sacris extra moenia petitum ierat. [7] accepti obrutam armis necauere, seu ut ui capta potius

arx uideretur, seu prodendi exempli causa, ne quid usquam fidum proditori esset. [8] additur fabula, quod

uolgo Sabini aureas armillas magni ponderis bracchio laeuo gemmatosque magna specie anulos habuerint,

pepigisse eam, quod in sinistris manibus haberent; eo scuta illi pro aureis donis congesta. [9] sunt, qui

eam ex pacto tradendi, quod in sinistris manibus esset, derecto arma petisse dicant et fraude uisam agere

sua ipsam peremptam mercede…

13. tum Sabinae mulieres, quarum ex iniuria bellum ortum erat, crinibus passis scissaque ueste, uicto

malis muliebri pauore, ausae se inter tela uolantia inferre, ex transuerso impetu facto dirimere infestas

acies, [2] dirimere iras, hinc patres, hinc uiros orantes, ne sanguine se nefando soceri generique

respergerent, ne parricidio macularent partus suos, nepotum illi, hi liberum progeniem. [3] 'si adfinitatis

inter uos, si conubii piget, in nos uertite iras; nos causa belli, nos uolnerum ac caedium uiris ac parentibus

sumus; melius peribimus quam sine alteris uestrum uiduae aut orbae uiuemus.' mouet res cum

multitudinem tum duces; [4] silentium et repentina fit quies; inde ad foedus faciendum duces prodeunt.

nec pacem modo sed ciuitatem unam ex duabus faciunt. regnum consociant: imperium omne conferunt

Romam. [5] ita geminata urbe ut Sabinis tamen aliquid daretur Quirites a Curibus appellati. monumentum

eius pugnae, ubi primum ex profunda emersus palude equus Curtium in uado statuit, Curtium lacum

appellarunt. [6] ex bello tam tristi laeta repente pax cariores Sabinas uiris ac parentibus et ante omnes

Romulo ipsi fecit. itaque cum populum in curias triginta diuideret, nomina earum curiis imposuit. [7] id

non traditur, cum haud dubie aliquanto numerus maior hoc mulierum fuerit, aetate an dignitatibus suis

uirorumue an sorte lectae sint, quae nomina curiis darent. [8] eodem tempore et centuriae tres equitum

conscriptae sunt. Ramnenses ab Romulo, ab T. Tatio Titienses appellati: Lucerum nominis et originis

causa incerta est. inde non modo commune sed concors etiam regnum duobus regibus fuit.

9. The468 Roman State had now become so strong that it was a match for any of its neighbours in war, but

its greatness threatened to last for only one generation, since through the absence of women there was no

hope of offspring, and there was no right of intermarriage with their neighbours. [2] Acting on the advice

of the senate, Romulus sent envoys amongst the surrounding nations to ask for alliance and the right of

intermarriage on behalf of his new community. [3] It was represented that cities, like everything else,

sprung from the humblest beginnings, and those who were helped on by their own courage and the favour

of heaven won for themselves great power and great renown. [4] As to the origin of Rome, it was well

known that whilst it had received divine assistance, courage and self-reliance were not wanting. There

should, therefore, be no reluctance for men to mingle their blood with their fellow-men.

[5] Nowhere did the envoys meet with a favourable reception. Whilst their proposals were treated with

contumely, there was at the same time a general feeling of alarm at the power so rapidly growing in their

midst. Usually they were dismissed with the question, ‘whether they had opened an asylum for women,

for nothing short of that would secure for them inter-marriage on equal terms.’ [6] The Roman youth

could ill brook such insults, and matters began to look like an appeal to force.

To secure a favourable place and time for such an attempt, Romulus, disguising his resentment, made

elaborate preparations for the celebration of games in honour of ‘Equestrian Neptune,’ which he called

‘the Consualia.’ [7] He ordered public notice of the spectacle to be given amongst the adjoining cities,

and his people supported him in making the celebration as magnificent as their knowledge and resources

allowed, so that expectations were raised to the highest pitch. [8] There was a great gathering; people

were eager to see the new City, all their nearest neighbours-the people of Caenina, Antemnae, and

468 Translation from Roberts 1912.

268

Crustumerium-were there, and the whole Sabine population came, with their wives and families. [9] They

were invited to accept hospitality at the different houses, and after examining the situation of the City, its

walls and the large number of dwelling-houses it included, they were astonished at the rapidity with

which the Roman State had grown.

[10] When the hour for the games had come, and their eyes and minds were alike riveted on the spectacle

before them, the preconcerted signal was given and the Roman youth dashed in all directions to carry off

the maidens who were present. [11] The larger part were carried off indiscriminately, but some

particularly beautiful girls who had been marked out for the leading patricians were carried to their houses

by plebeians told off for the task. [12] One, conspicuous amongst them all for grace and beauty, is

reported to have been carried off by a group led by a certain Talassius, and to the many inquiries as to

whom she was intended for, the invariable answer was given, ‘For Talassius.’ [13] Hence the use of this

word in the marriage rites. Alarm and consternation broke up the games, and the parents of the maidens

fled, distracted with grief, uttering bitter reproaches on the violators of the laws of hospitality and

appealing to the god to whose solemn games they had come, only to be the victims of impious [14]

perfidy.

The abducted maidens were quite as despondent and indignant. Romulus, however, went round in person,

and pointed out to them that it was all owing to the pride of their parents in denying right of intermarriage

to their neighbours. They would live in honourable wedlock, and share all their property and civil rights,

and —dearest of all to human nature-would be the mothers of [15] freemen. He begged them to lay aside

their feelings of resentment and give their affections to those whom fortune had made masters of their

persons. An injury had often led to reconciliation and love; they would find their husbands all the more

affectionate because each would do his utmost, so far as in him lay to make up for the loss of parents and

[16] country. These arguments were reinforced by the endearments of their husbands who excused their

conduct by pleading the irresistible force of their passion —a plea effective beyond all others in appealing

to a woman's nature.

11. Whilst the Romans were thus occupied, the army of the Antemnates seized the opportunity of their

territory being unoccupied and made a raid into it. Romulus hastily led his legion against this fresh foe

and surprised them as they were scattered over the fields. [2] At the very first battle-shout and charge the

enemy were routed and their city captured. Whilst Romulus was exulting over this double victory, his

wife, Hersilia, moved by the entreaties of the abducted maidens, implored him to pardon their parents and

receive them into citizenship, for so the State would increase in unity and strength. [3] He readily granted

her request. He then advanced against the Crustuminians, who had commenced war, but their eagerness

had been damped by the successive defeats of their neighbours, and they offered but slight resistance. [4]

Colonies were planted in both places; owing to the fertility of the soil of the Crustumine district, the

majority gave their names for that colony. On the other hand there were numerous migrations to Rome,

mostly of the parents and relatives of the abducted maidens.

[5] The last of these wars was commenced by the Sabines and proved the most serious of all, for nothing

was done in passion or impatience; they masked their designs till war had actually commenced. [6]

Strategy was aided by craft and deceit, as the following incident shows.

Spurius Tarpeius was in command of the Roman citadel. Whilst his daughter had gone outside the

fortifications to fetch water for some religious ceremonies, Tatius bribed her to admit his troops within

the citadel. [7] Once admitted, they crushed her to death beneath their shields, either that the citadel might

appear to have been taken by assault, or that her example might be left as a warning that no faith should

be kept with traitors. [8] A further story runs that the Sabines were in the habit of wearing heavy gold

armlets on their left arms and richly jeweled rings, and that the girl made them promise to give her ‘what

269

they had on their left arms,’ accordingly they piled their shields upon her instead of golden gifts. [9] Some

say that in bargaining for what they had in their left hands, she expressly asked for their shields, and being

suspected of wishing to betray them, fell a victim to her own bargain…

13. Then it was that the Sabine women, whose wrongs had led to the war, throwing off all womanish

fears in their distress, went boldly into the midst of the flying missiles with dishevelled hair and rent

garments. [2] Running across the space between the two armies they tried to stop any further fighting and

calm the excited passions by appealing to their fathers in the one army and their husbands in the other not

to bring upon themselves a curse by staining their hands with the blood of a father-in-law or a son-in-law,

nor upon their posterity the taint of parricide. [3] ‘If,’ they cried, ‘you are weary of these ties of kindred,

these marriage-bonds, then turn your anger upon us; it is we who are the cause of the war, it is we who

have wounded and slain our husbands and fathers. Better for us to perish rather than live without one or

the other of you, as widows or as orphans.’

[4] The armies and their leaders were alike moved by this appeal. There was a sudden hush and silence.

Then the generals advanced to arrange the terms of a treaty. It was not only peace that was made, the two

nations were united into one State, the royal power was shared between them, and the seat of government

for both nations was Rome. [5] After thus doubling the City, a concession was made to the Sabines in the

new appellation of Quirites, from their old capital of Cures. As a memorial of the battle, the place where

Curtius got his horse out of the deep marsh on to safer ground was called the Curtian lake.

[6] The joyful peace, which put an abrupt close to such a deplorable war, made the Sabine women still

dearer to their husbands and fathers, and most of all to Romulus himself. [7] Consequently when he

effected the distribution of the people into the thirty curiae, he affixed their names to the curiae. No doubt

there were many more than thirty women, and tradition is silent as to whether those whose names were

given to the curiae were selected on the ground of age, or on that of personal distinction — either their

own or their husbands' —or merely by lot. [8] The enrolment of the three centuries of knights took place

at the same time; the Ramnenses were called after Romulus, the Titienses from T. Tatius. The origin of

the Luceres and why they were so called is uncertain.

Thenceforward the two kings exercised their joint sovereignty with perfect harmony.

Dionysius of Halicarnassus

2.30, 45-46

30) αἱ δὲ ἄλλαι πράξεις αἵ τε κατὰ τοὺς πολέμους ὑπὸ τοῦ ἀνδρὸς γενόμεναι καὶ αἱ κατὰ τὴν πόλιν, ὧν ἄν

τις καὶ λόγον ποιήσαιτ᾽ ἐν ἱστορίας γραφῇ, τοιαῦταί τινες παραδίδονται. [2] πολλῶν περιοικούντων τὴν

Ῥώμην ἐθνῶν μεγάλων τε καὶ τὰ πολέμια ἀλκίμων, ὧν οὐδὲν ἦν τοῖς Ῥωμαίοις φίλιον, οἰκειώσασθαι

ταῦτα βουληθεὶς ἐπιγαμίαις, ὅσπερ ἐδόκει τοῖς παλαιοῖς τρόπος εἶναι βεβαιότατος τῶν συναπτόντων

φιλίας, ἐνθυμούμενος δὲ ὅτι βουλόμεναι μὲν αἱ πόλεις οὐκ ἂν συνέλθοιεν αὐτοῖς ἄρτι τε συνοικιζομένοις

καὶ οὔτε χρήμασι δυνατοῖς οὔτε λαμπρὸν ἔργον ἐπιδεδειγμένοις οὐδέν, βιασθεῖσαι δὲ εἴξουσιν εἰ μηδεμία

γένοιτο περὶ τὴν ἀνάγκην ὕβρις, γνώμην ἔσχεν, ᾗ καὶ Νεμέτωρ ὁ πάππος αὐτοῦ προσέθετο, δἰ ἁρπαγῆς

παρθένων ἀθρόας γενομένης ποιήσασθαι τὰς ἐπιγαμίας. [3] γνοὺς δὲ ταῦτα θεῷ μὲν εὐχὰς τίθεται πρῶτον

ἀπορρήτων βουλευμάτων ἡγεμόνι, ἐὰν ἡ πεῖρα αὐτῷ χωρήσῃ κατὰ νοῦν θυσίας καὶ ἑορτὰς ἄξειν καθ᾽

ἕκαστον ἐνιαυτόν: ἔπειτα τῷ συνεδρίῳ τῆς γερουσίας ἀνενέγκας τὸν λόγον, ἐπειδὴ κἀκείνοις τὸ

βούλευμα ἤρεσκεν, ἑορτὴν προεῖπε καὶ πανήγυριν ἄξειν Ποσειδῶνι καὶ περιήγγελλεν εἰς τὰς ἔγγιστα

πόλεις καλῶν τοὺς βουλομένους ἀγορᾶς τε μεταλαμβάνειν καὶ ἀγώνων: καὶ γὰρ ἀγῶνας ἄξειν ἔμελλεν

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ἵππων τε καὶ ἀνδρῶν παντοδαπούς. [4] συνελθόντων δὲ πολλῶν ξένων εἰς τὴν ἑορτὴν γυναιξὶν ἅμα καὶ

τέκνοις, ἐπειδὴ τάς τε θυσίας ἐπετέλεσε τῷ Ποσειδῶνι καὶ τοὺς ἀγῶνας, τῇ τελευταίᾳ τῶν ἡμερῶν, ᾗ

διαλύσειν ἔμελλε τὴν πανήγυριν, παράγγελμα δίδωσι τοῖς νέοις, ἡνίκ᾽ ἂν αὐτὸς ἄρῃ τὸ σημεῖον ἁρπάζειν

τὰς παρούσας ἐπὶ τὴν θέαν παρθένους, αἷς ἂν ἐπιτύχωσιν ἕκαστοι, καὶ φυλάττειν ἁγνὰς ἐκείνην τὴν

νύκτα, τῇ δ᾽ [5] ἑξῆς ἡμέρᾳ πρὸς ἑαυτὸν ἄγειν. οἱ μὲν δὴ νέοι διαστάντες κατὰ συστροφάς, ἐπειδὴ τὸ

σύνθημα ἀρθὲν εἶδον τρέπονται πρὸς τὴν τῶν παρθένων ἁρπαγήν, ταραχὴ δὲ τῶν ξένων εὐθὺς ἐγένετο

καὶ φυγὴ μεῖζόν τι κακὸν ὑφορωμένων. τῇ δ᾽ ἑξῆς ἡμέρᾳ προαχθεισῶν τῶν παρθένων, παραμυθησάμενος

αὐτῶν τὴν ἀθυμίαν ὁ Ῥωμύλος, ὡς οὐκ ἐφ᾽ ὕβρει τῆς ἁρπαγῆς ἀλλ᾽ ἐπὶ γάμῳ γενομένης, Ἑλληνικόν τε

καὶ ἀρχαῖον ἀποφαίνων τὸ ἔθος καὶ τρόπων συμπάντων καθ᾽ οὓς συνάπτονται γάμοι ταῖς γυναιξὶν

ἐπιφανέστατον, ἠξίου στέργειν τοὺς δοθέντας αὐταῖς ἄνδρας ὑπὸ τῆς τύχης: [6] καὶ μετὰ τοῦτο

διαριθμήσας τὰς κόρας ἑξακοσίας τε καὶ ὀγδοήκοντα καὶ τρεῖς εὑρεθείσας κατέλεξεν αὖθις ἐκ τῶν

ἀγάμων ἄνδρας ἰσαρίθμους, οἷς αὐτὰς συνήρμοττε κατὰ τοὺς πατρίους ἑκάστης ἐθισμούς, ἐπὶ κοινωνίᾳ

πυρὸς καὶ ὕδατος ἐγγυῶν τοὺς γάμους, ὡς καὶ μέχρι τῶν καθ᾽ ἡμᾶς ἐπιτελοῦνται χρόνων.

45) ἐν ᾧ δὲ ἀμφότεροι ταῦτα διαλογιζόμενοι καὶ οὔτε μάχης ἄρχειν τολμῶντες οὔτε περὶ φιλίας

διαλεγόμενοι παρεῖλκον τὸν χρόνον, αἱ Ῥωμαίων γυναῖκες ὅσαι τοῦ Σαβίνων ἐτύγχανον οὖσαι γένους, δι᾽

ἃς ὁ πόλεμος συνειστήκει, συνελθοῦσαι δίχα τῶν ἀνδρῶν εἰς ἓν χωρίον καὶ λόγον ἑαυταῖς δοῦσαι γνώμην

ἐποιήσαντο συμβατηρίων ἄρξαι πρὸς ἀμφοτέρους αὐταὶ λόγων. [2] ἡ δὲ τοῦτο εἰσηγησαμένη τὸ

βούλευμα ταῖς γυναιξὶν Ἑρσιλία μὲν ἐκαλεῖτο, γένους δ᾽ οὐκ ἀφανοῦς ἦν ἐν Σαβίνοις. ταύτην δ᾽ οἱ μέν

φασι γεγαμημένην ἤδη σὺν ταῖς ἄλλαις ἁρπασθῆναι κόραις ὡς παρθένον, οἱ δὲ τὰ πιθανώτατα γράφοντες

ἑκοῦσαν ὑπομεῖναι λέγουσι μετὰ θυγατρός: ἁρπασθῆναι γὰρ δὴ κἀκείνης θυγατέρα μονογενῆ. [3] ὡς δὲ

ταύτην ἔσχον τὴν γνώμην αἱ γυναῖκες ἧκον ἐπὶ τὸ συνέδριον καὶ τυχοῦσαι λόγου μακρὰς ἐξέτειναν

δεήσεις, ἐπιτροπὴν ἀξιοῦσαι λαβεῖν τῆς πρὸς τοὺς συγγενεῖς ἐξόδου, πολλὰς καὶ ἀγαθὰς ἐλπίδας ἔχειν

λέγουσαι περὶ τοῦ συνάξειν εἰς ἓν τὰ ἔθνη καὶ ποιήσειν φιλίαν. ὡς δὲ ταῦτ᾽ ἤκουσαν οἱ συνεδρεύοντες τῷ

βασιλεῖ σφόδρα τε ἠγάσθησαν καὶ πόρον ὡς ἐν ἀμηχάνοις πράγμασι τοῦτον ὑπέλαβον εἶναι μόνον. [4]

γίνεται δὴ μετὰ τοῦτο δόγμα τοιόνδε βουλῆς: ὅσαι τοῦ Σαβίνων γένους ἦσαν ἔχουσαι τέκνα, ταύταις

ἐξουσίαν εἶναι καταλιπούσαις τὰ τέκνα παρὰ τοῖς ἀνδράσι πρεσβεύειν ὡς τοὺς ὁμοεθνεῖς, ὅσαι δὲ

πλειόνων παίδων μητέρες ἦσαν ἐπάγεσθαι μοῖραν ἐξ αὐτῶν ὁσηνδήτινα καὶ πράττειν ὅπως εἰς φιλίαν

συνάξουσι τὰ ἔθνη. [5] μετὰ τοῦτο ἐξῄεσαν ἐσθῆτας ἔχουσαι πενθίμους, τινὲς δὲ αὐτῶν καὶ τέκνα νήπια

ἐπαγόμεναι. ὡς δ᾽ εἰς τὸν χάρακα τῶν Σαβίνων προῆλθον ὀδυρόμεναί τε καὶ προσπίπτουσαι τοῖς τῶν

ἀπαντώντων γόνασι πολὺν οἶκτον ἐκ τῶν ὁρώντων ἐκίνησαν, [6] καὶ τὰ δάκρυα κατέχειν οὐδεὶς ἱκανὸς

ἦν. συναχθέντος δὲ αὐταῖς τοῦ συνεδρίου τῶν προβούλων καὶ κελεύσαντος τοῦ βασιλέως ὑπὲρ ὧν ἥκουσι

λέγειν ἡ τοῦ βουλεύματος ἄρξασα καὶ τὴν ἡγεμονίαν ἔχουσα τῆς πρεσβείας Ἑρσιλία μακρὰν καὶ

συμπαθῆ διεξῆλθε δέησιν, ἀξιοῦσα χαρίσασθαι τὴν εἰρήνην ταῖς δεομέναις ὑπὲρ τῶν ἀνδρῶν, δι᾽ ἃς

ἐξενηνέχθαι τὸν πόλεμον ἀπέφαινεν: ἐφ᾽ οἷς δὲ γενήσονται δικαίοις αἱ διαλύσεις, τοὺς ἡγεμόνας αὐτοὺς

συνελθόντας ἐφ᾽ ἑαυτῶν διομολογήσασθαι πρὸς τὸ κοινῇ συμφέρον ὁρῶντας.

46) τοιαῦτα εἰποῦσαι προὔπεσον ἅπασαι τῶν τοῦ βασιλέως γονάτων ἅμα τοῖς τέκνοις καὶ διέμενον

ἐρριμμέναι, τέως ἀνέστησαν αὐτὰς ἐκ τῆς γῆς οἱ παρόντες ἅπαντα ποιήσειν τὰ μέτρια καὶ τὰ δυνατὰ

ὑπισχνούμενοι. μεταστησάμενοι δὲ αὐτὰς ἐκ τοῦ συνεδρίου καὶ βουλευσάμενοι καθ᾽ ἑαυτοὺς ἔκριναν

ποιεῖσθαι τὰς διαλλαγάς. καὶ γίνονται τοῖς ἔθνεσιν ἐκεχειρίαι μὲν πρῶτον: ἔπειτα συνελθόντων τῶν

βασιλέων συνθῆκαι περὶ φιλίας. [2] ἦν δὲ τὰ συνομολογηθέντα τοῖς ἀνδράσι, περὶ ὧν τοὺς ὅρκους

ἐποιήσαντο, τοιάδε: βασιλέας μὲν εἶναι Ῥωμαίων Ῥωμύλον καὶ Τάτιον ἰσοψήφους ὄντας καὶ τιμὰς

καρπουμένους τὰς ἴσας, καλεῖσθαι δὲ τὴν μὲν πόλιν ἐπὶ τοῦ κτίσαντος τὸ αὐτὸ φυλάττουσαν ὄνομα

Ῥώμην, καὶ ἕνα ἕκαστον τῶν ἐν αὐτῇ πολιτῶν Ῥωμαῖον, ὡς πρότερον, τοὺς δὲ σύμπαντας ἐπὶ τῆς Τατίου

πατρίδος κοινῇ περιλαμβανομένους κλήσει Κυρίτας: πολιτεύειν δὲ τοὺς βουλομένους Σαβίνων ἐν Ῥώμῃ

ἱερά τε συνενεγκαμένους καὶ εἰς φυλὰς καὶ εἰς φράτρας ἐπιδοθέντας. [3] ταῦτα ὀμόσαντες καὶ βωμοὺς ἐπὶ

τοῖς ὅρκοις ἱδρυσάμενοι κατὰ μέσην μάλιστα τὴν καλουμένην ἱερὰν ὁδὸν συνεκεράσθησαν ἀλλήλοις. καὶ

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οἱ μὲν ἄλλοι τὰς δυνάμεις ἀναλαβόντες ἡγεμόνες ἀπῆγον ἐπ᾽ οἴκου, Τάτιος δὲ ὁ βασιλεὺς καὶ σὺν αὐτῷ

τρεῖς ἄνδρες οἴκων τῶν διαφανεστάτων ὑπέμειναν ἐν Ῥώμῃ καὶ τιμὰς ἔσχον, ἃς τὸ ἀπ᾽ αὐτῶν ἐκαρποῦτο

γένος, Οὐόλοσσος Οὐαλέριος καὶ Τάλλος Τυράννως ἐπίκλησιν καὶ τελευταῖος Μέττιος Κούρτιος, ὁ τὴν

λίμνην σὺν τοῖς ὅπλοις διανηξάμενος, οἷς παρέμειναν ἑταῖροί τε καὶ συγγενεῖς καὶ πελάται, τῶν

ἐπιχωρίων ἀριθμὸν οὐκ ἐλάττους.

2.30. 1) The469 other deeds reported of this man, both in his wars and at home, which may be thought

deserving of mention in a history are as follows. 2) Inasmuch as many nations that were both numerous

and brave in war dwelt round about Rome and none of them was friendly to the Romans, he desired to

conciliate them by intermarriages, which, in the opinion of the ancients, was the surest method of

cementing friendships; but considering that the cities in question would not of their own accord unite with

the Romans, who were just getting settled together in one city, and who neither were powerful by reason

of their wealth nor had performed any brilliant exploit, but that they would yield to force if no insolence

accompanied such compulsion, he determined, with the approval of Numitor, his grandfather, to bring

about the desired intermarriages by a wholesale seizure of virgins. 3) After he had taken this resolution,

he first made a vow to the god who presides over secret counsels to celebrate sacrifices and festivals

every year if his enterprise should succeed. Then, having laid his plan before the senate and gaining their

approval, he announced that he would hold a festival and general assemblage in honour of Neptune, and

he sent word round about to the nearest cities, inviting all who wished to do so to be present at the

assemblage and to take part in the increases; for he was going to hold contests of all sorts, both between

horses and between men. 4) And when many strangers came with their wives and children to the festival,

he first offered the sacrifices to Neptune and held the contests: then, on the last day, on which he was to

dismiss the assemblage, he ordered the young men, when he himself should raise the signal, to seize all

the virgins who had come to the spectacle, each group taking those they should first encounter, to keep

them that night without violating their chastity and bring them to him the next day. 5) So the young men

divided themselves into several groups, and as soon as they saw the signal raised, fell to seizing the

virgins; and straightway the strangers were in an uproar and fled, suspecting some greater mischief. The

next day, when the virgins were brought before Romulus, he comforted them in their despair with the

assurance that they had been seized, not out of wantonness, but for the purpose of marriage; for he

pointed out that this was an ancient Greek custom and that of all methods of contracting marriages for

women it was the most illustrious, and he asked them to cherish those whom Fortune had given them for

their husbands. 6) Then counting them and finding their number to be six hundred and eighty-three, he

chose an equal number of unmarried men to whom he united them according to the customs of each

woman's country, basing the marriages on a communion of fire and water, in the same manner as

marriages are performed even down to our times.

45. While both sides were consuming the time in these considerations, neither daring to renew the fight

nor treating for peace, the wives of the Romans who were of the Sabine race and the cause of the war,

assembling in one place apart from their husbands and consulting together, determined to make the first

overtures themselves to both armies concerning an accommodation. 2) The one who proposed this

measure to the rest of the women was named Hersilia, a woman of no obscure birth among the Sabines.

Some say that, though already married, she was seized with the others as supposedly a virgin; but those

who give the most probable account say that she remained with her daughter of her own free will, for

according to them her only daughter was among those who had been seized. 3) After the women had

taken this resolution they came to the senate, and having obtained an audience, they made long pleas,

469 Translation from Cary 1937.

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begging to be permitted to go out to their relations and declaring that they had many excellent grounds for

hoping to bring the two nations together and establish friendship between them. When the senators who

were present in council with the king heard this, they were exceedingly pleased and looked upon it, in

view of their present difficulties, as the only solution. 4) Thereupon a decree of the senate was passed to

the effect that those Sabine women who had children should, upon leaving them with their husbands, have

permission to go as ambassadors to their countrymen, and that those who had several children should take

along as many of them as they wished and endeavour to reconcile the two nations. 5) After this the

women went out dressed in mourning, some of them also carrying their infant children. When they

arrived in the camp of the Sabines, lamenting and falling at the feet of those they met, they aroused great

compassion in all who saw them and none could refrain from tears. 6) And when the councillors had been

called together to receive them and the king had command them to state their reasons for coming,

Hersilia, who had proposed the plan and was at the head of the embassy, delivered a long and pathetic

plea, begging them to grant peace to those who were interceding for their husbands and on whose

account, she pointed out, the war had been undertaken. As to the terms, however, on which peace should

be made, she said the leaders, coming together by themselves, might settle them with a view to the

advantage of both parties.

46. 1) After she had spoken thus, all the women with their children threw themselves at the feet of the

king and remained prostrate till those who were present raised them from the ground and promised to do

everything that was reasonable and in their power. Then, having ordered them to withdraw from the

council and having consulted together, they decided to make peace. And first a truce was agreed upon

between the two nations; then the kings met together and a treaty of friendship was concluded. 2) The

terms agreed upon by the two, which they confirmed by their oaths, were as follows: that Romulus and

Tatius should be kings of the Romans with equal authority and should enjoy equal honours; that the city,

preserving its name, should from its founder be called Rome; that each individual citizen should as before

be called a Roman, but that the people collectively should be comprehended under one general

appellation and from the city of Tatius be called Quirites, and that all the Sabines who wished might live

in Rome, joining in common rites with the Romans and being assigned to tribes and curiae. 3) After they

had sworn to this treaty and, to confirm their oaths, had erected altars near the middle of the Sacred Way,

as it is called, they mingled together.

Plutarch’s Life of Romulus (14.1-19.7)

14. [1] τετάρτῳ δὲ μηνὶ μετὰ τὴν κτίσιν, ὡς Φάβιος ἱστορεῖ, τὸ περὶ τὴν ἁρπαγὴν ἐτολμήθη τῶν

γυναικῶν. καὶ λέγουσι μὲν ἔνιοι τὸν Ῥωμύλον αὐτὸν τῇ φύσει φιλοπόλεμον ὄντα, καὶ πεπεισμένον ἔκ

τινων ἄρα λογίων ὅτι τὴν Ῥώμην πέπρωται πολέμοις τρεφομένην καὶ αὐξομένην γενέσθαι μεγίστην, βίας

ὑπάρξαι πρὸς τοὺς Σαβίνους: οὐδὲ γὰρ πολλάς, ἀλλὰ τριάκοντα μόνας παρθένους λαβεῖν αὐτόν, ἅτε δὴ

πολέμου μᾶλλον ἢ γάμων δεόμενον. [2] τοῦτο δὲ οὐκ εἰκός: ἀλλὰ τὴν μὲν πόλιν ὁρῶν ἐποίκων εὐθὺς

ἐμπιπλαμένην, ὧν ὀλίγοι γυναῖκας εἶχον, οἱ δὲ πολλοὶ μιγάδες ἐξ ἀπόρων καὶ ἀφανῶν ὄντες ὑπερεωρῶντο

καὶ προσεδοκῶντο μὴ συμμενεῖν βεβαίως, ἐλπίζων δὲ πρὸς τοὺς Σαβίνους τρόπον τινὰ συγκράσεως καὶ

κοινωνίας ἀρχὴν αὐτοῖς τὸ ἀδίκημα ποιήσειν ὁμηρευσαμένοις τὰς γυναῖκας, ἐπεχείρησε τῷ ἔργῳ τόνδε

τὸν τρόπον. [3] διεδόθη λόγος ὑπ᾽ αὐτοῦ πρῶτον, ὡς θεοῦ τινος ἀνευρήκοι βωμὸν ὑπὸ γῆς κεκρυμμένον.

ὠνόμαζον δὲ τὸν θεὸν Κῶνσον, εἴτε βουλαῖον ὄντα（ κωνσίλιον γὰρ ἔτι νῦν τὸ συμβούλιον καλοῦσι καὶ

τοὺς ὑπάτους κώνσουλας οἷον προβούλους), εἴτε ἵππιον Ποσειδῶ. καὶ γὰρ ὁ βωμὸς ἐν τῷ μείζονι τῶν

ἱπποδρόμων ἐστίν, ἀφανὴς τὸν ἄλλον χρόνον, ἐν δὲ τοῖς ἱππικοῖς ἀγῶσιν ἀνακαλυπτόμενος. [4] οἱ δὲ καὶ

ὅλως φασί, τοῦ βουλεύματος ἀπορρήτου καὶ ἀφανοῦς ὄντος, ὑπόγειον οὐκ ἀλόγως τῷ θεῷ βωμὸν

γενέσθαι καὶ κεκρυμμένον. ὡς δ᾽ ἀνεφάνη, θυσίαν τε λαμπρὰν ἐπ᾽ αὐτῷ καὶ ἀγῶνα καὶ θέαν ἐκ

καταγγελίας ἐπετέλει πανηγυρικήν. καὶ πολλοὶ μὲν ἄνθρωποι συνῆλθον, αὐτὸς δὲ προὐκάθητο μετὰ τῶν

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ἀρίστων, ἁλουργίδι κεκοσμημένος. [5] ἦν δὲ τοῦ καιροῦ τῆς ἐπιχειρήσεως σύμβολον, ἐξαναστάντα τὴν

ἁλουργίδα πτύξαι καὶ περιβαλέσθαι πάλιν. ἔχοντες οὖν ξίφη πολλοὶ προσεῖχον αὐτῷ, καὶ τοῦ σημείου

γενομένου, σπασάμενοι τὰ ξίφη καὶ μετὰ βοῆς ὁρμήσαντες, ἥρπαζον τὰς θυγατέρας τῶν Σαβίνων, αὐτοὺς

δὲ φεύγοντας εἴων καὶ παρίεσαν. [6] ἁρπασθῆναι δέ φασιν οἱ μὲν τριάκοντα μόνας, ἀφ᾽ ὧν καὶ τὰς

φρατρίας ὀνομασθῆναι: Οὐαλέριος δ᾽ Ἀντίας ἑπτὰ καὶ εἴκοσι καὶ πεντακοσίας, Ἰόβας δὲ τρεῖς καὶ

ὀγδοήκοντα καὶ ἑξακοσίας, παρθένους. ὃ μέγιστον ἦν ἀπολόγημα τῷ Ῥωμύλῳ: γυναῖκα γὰρ οὐ λαβεῖν

ἀλλ᾽ ἢ μίαν Ἑρσιλίαν, διαλαθοῦσαν αὐτούς, ἅτε δὴ μὴ μεθ᾽ ὕβρεως μηδ᾽ ἀδικίας ἐλθόντας ἐπὶ τὴν

ἁρπαγήν, ἀλλὰ συμμεῖξαι καὶ συναγαγεῖν εἰς ταὐτὸ τὰ γένη ταῖς μεγίσταις ἀνάγκαις διανοηθέντας. [7] τὴν

δ᾽ Ἑρσιλίαν οἱ μὲν Ὁστίλιον γῆμαι λέγουσιν, ἄνδρα Ῥωμαίων ἐπιφανέστατον, οἱ δ᾽ αὐτὸν Ῥωμύλον, καὶ

γενέσθαι καὶ παῖδας αὐτῷ, μίαν μὲν θυγατέρα Πρίμαν, τῇ τάξει τῆς γενέσεως οὕτω προσαγορευθεῖσαν,

ἕνα δ᾽ υἱὸν μόνον, ὃν Ἀόλλιον μὲν ἐκεῖνος ἀπὸ τῆς γενομένης ἀθροίσεως ὑπ᾽ αὐτοῦ τῶν πολιτῶν

ὠνόμασεν, οἱ δ᾽ ὕστερον Ἀβίλλιον. ἀλλὰ ταῦτα μὲν ἱστορῶν Ζηνόδοτος ὁ Τροιζήνιος πολλοὺς ἔχει τοὺς

ἀντιλέγοντας.

15. [1] ἐν δὲ τοῖς ἁρπάζουσι τὰς παρθένους τότε τυχεῖν λέγουσι τῶν οὐκ ἐπιφανῶν τινας ἄγοντας κόρην

τῷ τε κάλλει πολὺ καὶ τῷ μεγέθει διαφέρουσαν. ἐπεὶ δ᾽ ἀπαντῶντες ἔνιοι τῶν κρειττόνων ἐπεχείρουν

ἀφαιρεῖσθαι, βοᾶν τοὺς ἄγοντας, ὡς Ταλασίῳ κομίζοιεν αὐτήν, ἀνδρὶ νέῳ μέν, εὐδοκίμῳ δὲ καὶ χρηστῷ:

[2] τοῦτ᾽ οὖν ἀκούσαντας εὐφημεῖν καὶ κροτεῖν ἐπαινοῦντας, ἐνίους δὲ καὶ παρακολουθεῖν

ἀναστρέψαντας εὐνοίᾳ καὶ χάριτι τοῦ Ταλασίου, μετὰ βοῆς τοὔνομα φθεγγομένους. ἀφ᾽ οὗ δὴ τὸν

Ταλάσιον ἄχρι νῦν, ὡς Ἕλληνες τὸν Ὑμέναιον, ἐπᾴδουσι Ῥωμαῖοι τοῖς γάμοις: καὶ γὰρ εὐτυχίᾳ φασὶ

χρήσασθαι περὶ τὴν γυναῖκα τὸν Ταλάσιον. Σέξτιος δὲ Σύλλας ὁ Καρχηδόνιος, οὔτε μουσῶν οὔτε

χαρίτων ἐπιδεὴς ἀνήρ, ἔλεγεν ἡμῖν ὅτι τῆς ἁρπαγῆς σύνθημα τὴν φωνὴν ἔδωκε ταύτην ὁ Ῥωμύλος: [3]

ἅπαντες οὖν ἐβόων τὸν Ταλάσιον οἱ τὰς παρθένους κομίζοντες, καὶ διὰ τοῦτο τοῖς γάμοις παραμένει τὸ

ἔθος. οἱ δὲ πλεῖστοι νομίζουσιν, ὧν καὶ ὁ Ἰόβας ἐστί, παράκλησιν εἶναι καὶ παρακέλευσιν εἰς φιλεργίαν

καὶ ταλασίαν, οὔπω τότε τοῖς Ἑλληνικοῖς ὀνόμασι τῶν Ἰταλικῶν ἐπικεχυμένων. εἰ δὲ τοῦτο μὴ λέγεται

κακῶς, ἀλλ᾽ ἐχρῶντο Ῥωμαῖοι τότε τῷ ὀνόματι τῆς ταλασίας καθάπερ ἡμεῖς, ἑτέραν ἄν τις αἰτίαν

εἰκάσειε πιθανωτέραν. [4] ἐπεὶ γὰρ οἱ Σαβῖνοι πρὸς τοὺς Ῥωμαίους πολεμήσαντες διηλλάγησαν, ἐγένοντο

συνθῆκαι περὶ τῶν γυναικῶν, ὅπως μηδὲν ἄλλο ἔργον τοῖς ἀνδράσιν ἢ τὰ περὶ τὴν ταλασίαν ὑπουργῶσι.

παρέμεινεν οὖν καὶ τοῖς αὖθις γαμοῦσι τοὺς διδόντας ἢ παραπέμποντας ἢ ὅλως παρόντας ἀναφωνεῖν τὸν

Ταλάσιον μετὰ παιδιᾶς, μαρτυρομένους ὡς ἐπ᾽ οὐδὲν ἄλλο ὑπούργημα τῆς γυναικὸς ἢ ταλασίαν

εἰσαγομένης. [5] διαμένει δὲ μέχρι νῦν τὸ τὴν νύμφην αὐτὴν ἀφ᾽ αὑτῆς μὴ ὑπερβαίνειν τὸν οὐδὸν εἰς τὸ

δωμάτιον, ἀλλ᾽ αἰρομένην εἰσφέρεσθαι, διὰ τὸ καὶ τότε κομισθῆναι βιασθείσας, μὴ εἰσελθεῖν. ἔνιοι δὲ

λέγουσι καὶ τὸ τὴν κόμην τῆς γαμουμένης αἰχμῇ διακρίνεσθαι δορατίου σύμβολον εἶναι τοῦ μετὰ μάχης

καὶ πολεμικῶς τὸν πρῶτον γάμον γενέσθαι: περὶ ὧν ἐπὶ πλέον ἐν τοῖς Αἰτίοις εἰρήκαμεν. ἐτολμήθη μὲν

οὖν ἡ ἁρπαγὴ περὶ τὴν ὀκτωκαιδεκάτην ἡμέραν τοῦ τότε Σεξτιλίου μηνός, Αὐγούστου δὲ νῦν, ἐν ᾗ τὴν

τῶν Κωνσαλίων ἑορτὴν ἄγουσιν.

18. [4]… φυλαξάμενοι δὲ τὸν κίνδυνον οἱ Σαβῖνοι μάχην καρτερὰν ἐμαχέσαντο, κρίσιν οὐ λαβοῦσαν,

καίτοι πολλῶν πεσόντων, ἐν οἷς ἦν καὶ Ὁστίλιος. [5] τοῦτον Ἑρσιλίας ἄνδρα καὶ πάππον Ὁστιλίου τοῦ

μετὰ Νομᾶν βασιλεύσαντος γενέσθαι λέγουσιν…

19. [1] ἐνταῦθα δ᾽ αὐτοὺς ὥσπερ ἐξ ὑπαρχῆς μάχεσθαι παρασκευαζομένους ἐπέσχε δεινὸν ἰδεῖν θέαμα

καὶ λόγου κρείττων ὄψις. αἱ γὰρ ἡρπασμέναι θυγατέρες τῶν Σαβίνων ὤφθησαν ἀλλαχόθεν ἄλλαι μετὰ

βοῆς καὶ ἀλαλαγμοῦ διὰ τῶν ὅπλων φερόμεναι καὶ τῶν νεκρῶν ὥσπερ ἐκ θεοῦ κάτοχοι, πρός τε τοὺς

ἄνδρας αὑτῶν καὶ τοὺς πατέρας, αἱ μὲν παιδία κομίζουσαι νήπια πρὸς ταῖς ἀγκάλαις, αἱ δὲ τὴν κόμην

προϊσχόμεναι λελυμένην, πᾶσαι δ᾽ ἀνακαλούμεναι τοῖς φιλτάτοις ὀνόμασι ποτὲ μὲν τοὺς Σαβίνους, ποτὲ

δὲ τοὺς Ῥωμαίους. [2] ἐπεκλάσθησαν οὖν ἀμφότεροι, καὶ διέσχον αὐταῖς ἐν μέσῳ καταστῆναι τῆς

παρατάξεως, καὶ κλαυθμὸς ἅμα διὰ πάντων ἐχώρει, καὶ πολὺς οἶκτος ἦν πρός τε τὴν ὄψιν καὶ τοὺς λόγους

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ἔτι μᾶλλον, εἰς ἱκεσίαν καὶ δέησιν ἐκ δικαιολογίας καὶ παρρησίας τελευτῶντας. [3] ‘τί γάρ（

ἔφασαν)ὑμᾶς δεινὸν ἢ λυπηρὸν ἐργασάμεναι, τὰ μὲν ἤδη πεπόνθαμεν, τὰ δὲ πάσχομεν τῶν σχετλίων

κακῶν; ἡρπάσθημεν ὑπὸ τῶν νῦν ἐχόντων βίᾳ καὶ παρανόμως, ἁρπασθεῖσαι δ᾽ ἠμελήθημεν ὑπ᾽ ἀδελφῶν

καὶ πατέρων καὶ οἰκείων χρόνον τοσοῦτον, ὅσος ἡμᾶς πρὸς τὰ ἔχθιστα κεράσας ταῖς μεγίσταις ἀνάγκαις

πεποίηκε νῦν ὑπὲρ τῶν βιασαμένων καὶ παρανομησάντων δεδιέναι μαχομένων καὶ κλαίειν θνῃσκόντων. ’

‘ [4] οὐ γὰρ ἤλθετε τιμωρήσοντες ἡμῖν παρθένοις οὔσαις ἐπὶ τοὺς ἀδικοῦντας, ἀλλὰ νῦν ἀνδρῶν

ἀποσπᾶτε γαμετὰς καὶ τέκνων μητέρας, οἰκτροτέραν βοήθειαν ἐκείνης τῆς ἀμελείας καὶ προδοσίας

βοηθοῦντες ἡμῖν ταῖς ἀθλίαις. τοιαῦτα μὲν ἠγαπήθημεν ὑπὸ τούτων, τοιαῦτα δ᾽ ὑφ᾽ ὑμῶν ἐλεούμεθα. καὶ

γὰρ εἰ δι᾽ ἄλλην αἰτίαν ἐμάχεσθε, παύσασθαι δι᾽ ἡμᾶς πενθεροὺς γεγονότας καὶ πάππους καὶ οἰκείους

ὄντας ἐχρῆν. ’ ‘ [5] εἰ δ᾽ ὑπὲρ ἡμῶν ὁ πόλεμός ἐστι, κομίσασθε ἡμᾶς μετὰ γαμβρῶν καὶ τέκνων, καὶ

ἀπόδοτε ἡμῖν πατέρας καὶ οἰκείους, μηδ᾽ ἀφέλησθε παῖδας καὶ ἄνδρας. ἱκετεύομεν ὑμᾶς μὴ πάλιν

αἰχμάλωτοι γενέσθαι.’ τοιαῦτα πολλὰ τῆς Ἑρσιλίας προαγορευούσης καὶ τῶν ἄλλων δεομένων,

ἐσπείσθησαν ἀνοχαί, καὶ συνῆλθον εἰς λόγους οἱ ἡγεμόνες. [6] αἱ δὲ γυναῖκες ἐν τούτῳ τοῖς πατράσι καὶ

τοῖς ἀδελφοῖς τοὺς ἄνδρας προσῆγον καὶ τά τέκνα, προσέφερόν τε τροφὴν καὶ ποτὸν τοῖς δεομένοις, καὶ

τοὺς τετρωμένους ἐθεράπευον οἴκαδε κομίζουσαι, καὶ παρεῖχον ὁρᾶν ἀρχούσας μὲν αὑτὰς τοῦ οἴκου,

προσέχοντας δὲ τοὺς ἄνδρας αὐταῖς καὶ μετ᾽ εὐνοίας τιμὴν ἅπασαν νέμοντας. [7] ἐκ τούτου συντίθενται,

τῶν μὲν γυναικῶν τὰς βουλομένας συνοικεῖν τοῖς ἔχουσιν, ὥσπερ εἴρηται παντὸς ἔργου καὶ πάσης

λατρείας πλὴν ταλασίας ἀφειμένας, οἰκεῖν δὲ κοινῇ τὴν πόλιν Ῥωμαίους καὶ Σαβίνους, καὶ καλεῖσθαι μὲν

Ῥώμην ἐπὶ Ῥωμύλῳ τὴν πόλιν, Κυρίτας δὲ Ῥωμαίους ἅπαντας ἐπὶ τῇ Τατίου πατρίδι, βασιλεύειν δὲ κοινῇ

καὶ στρατηγεῖν ἀμφοτέρους. ὅπου δὲ ταῦτα συνέθεντο, μέχρι νῦν Κομίτιον καλεῖται: κομῖρε γὰρ Ῥωμαῖοι

τὸ συνελθεῖν καλοῦσι.

14. In470 the fourth month, after the city was built, as Fabius writes, the adventure of stealing the women

was attempted and some say Romulus himself, being naturally a martial man, and predisposed too,

perhaps by certain oracles, to believe the fates had ordained the future growth and greatness of Rome

should depend upon the benefit of war, upon these accounts first offered violence to the Sabines, since he

took away only thirty virgins, more to give an occasion of war than out of any want of women. But this is

not very probable; it would seem rather that, observing his city to be filled by a confluence of foreigners,

a few of whom had wives, and that the multitude in general, consisting of a mixture of mean and obscure

men, fell under contempt, and seemed to be of no long continuance together, and hoping farther, after the

women were appeased, to make this injury in some measure an occasion of confederacy and mutual

commerce with the Sabines, he took in hand this exploit after this manner. First, he gave it out as if he had

found an altar of a certain god hid under ground; the god they called Consus, either the god of counsel

(for they still call a consultation consilium, and their chief magistrates consules, namely, counsellors), or

else the equestrian Neptune, for the altar is kept covered in the Circus Maximus at all other times, and

only at horse-races is exposed to public view; others merely say that this god had his altar hid under

ground because counsel ought to be secret and concealed. Upon discovery of this altar, Romulus, by

proclamation, appointed a day for a splendid sacrifice, and for public games and shows, to entertain all

sorts of people: many flocked thither, and he himself sat in front, amidst his nobles clad in purple. Now

the signal for their falling on was to be whenever he rose and gathered up his robe and threw it over his

body; his men stood all ready armed, with their eyes intent upon him, and when the sign was given,

drawing their swords and falling on with a great shout they ravished away the daughters of the Sabines,

they themselves flying without any let or hindrance. They say there were but thirty taken, and from them

the Curiae or Fraternities were named; but Valerius Antias says five hundred and twenty-seven, Juba, six

470 Translation from http://classics.mit.edu/Plutarch/romulus.html

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hundred and eighty-three virgins: which was indeed the greatest excuse Romulus could allege, namely,

that they had taken no married woman, save one only, Hersilia by name, and her too unknowingly; which

showed that they did not commit this rape wantonly, but with a design purely of forming alliance with

their neighbours by the greatest and surest bonds. This Hersilia some say Hostilius married, a most

eminent man among the Romans; others, Romulus himself, and that she bore two children to him,- a

daughter, by reason of primogeniture called Prima, and one only son, whom, from the great concourse of

citizens to him at that time, he called Aollius, but after ages Abillius. But Zenodotus the Troezenian, in

giving this account, is contradicted by many.

15. Among those who committed this rape upon the virgins, there were, they say, as it so then happened,

some of the meaner sort of men, who were carrying off a damsel, excelling all in beauty and comeliness

and stature, whom when some of superior rank that met them, attempted to take away, they cried out they

were carrying her to Talasius, a young man, indeed, but brave and worthy; hearing that, they commended

and applauded them loudly, and also some, turning back, accompanied them with good-will and pleasure,

shouting out the name of Talasus. Hence the Romans to this very time, at their weddings, sing Talasius

for their nuptial word, as the Greeks do Hymenaeus, because they say Talasius was very happy in his

marriage. But Sextius Sylla the Carthaginian, a man wanting neither learning nor ingenuity, told me

Romulus gave this word as a sign when to begin the onset; everybody, therefore, who made prize of a

maiden, cried out, Talasius; and for that reason the custom continues so now at marriages. But most are of

opinion (of whom Juba particularly is one) that this word was used to new-married women by way of

incitement to good housewifery and talasia (spinning), as we say in Greek, Greek words at that time not

being as yet overpowered by Italian. But if this be the case, and if the Romans did at the time use the

word talasia as we do, a man might fancy a more probable reason of the custom. For when the Sabines,

after the war against the Romans were reconciled, conditions were made concerning their women, that

they should be obliged to do no other servile offices to their husbands but what concerned spinning; it

was customary, therefore, ever after, at weddings, for those that gave the bride or escorted her or

otherwise were present, sportingly to say Talasius, intimating that she was henceforth to serve in spinning

and no more. It continues also a custom at this very day for the bride not of herself to pass her husband's

threshold, but to be lifted over, in memory that the Sabine virgins were carried in by violence, and did not

go in of their own will. Some say, too, the custom of parting the bride's hair with the head of a spear was

in token their marriages began at first by war and acts of hostility, of which I have spoken more fully in

my book of Questions.

This rape was committed on the eighteenth day of the month Sextilis, now called August, on which the

solemnities of the Consualia are kept…

18.…The Sabines, having avoided this danger, began the fight very smartly, the fortune of the day being

very dubious, though many were slain; amongst whom was Hostilius, who, they say, was husband to

Hersilia, and grandfather to that Hostilius who reigned after Numa..

19…where both parties, preparing to begin a second battle, were prevented by a spectacle, strange to

behold, and defying description. For the daughters of the Sabines, who had been carried off, came

running, in great confusion, some on this side, some on that, with miserable cries and lamentations, like

creatures possessed, in the midst of the army and among the dead bodies, to come at their husbands and

their fathers, some with their young babes in their arms, others their hair loose about their ears, but all

calling, now upon the Sabines, now upon the Romans, in the most tender and endearing words. Hereupon

both melted into compassion, and fell back, to make room for them betwixt the armies. The sight of the

women carried sorrow and commiseration upon both sides into the hearts of all, but still more their words,

276

which began with expostulation and upbraiding, and ended with entreaty and supplication.

"Wherein," say they, "have we injured or offended you, as to deserve such sufferings past and present?

We were ravished away unjustly and violently by those whose now we are; that being done, we were so

long neglected by our fathers, our brothers and countrymen, that time, having now by the strictest bonds

united us to those we once mortally hated, has made it impossible for us not to tremble at the danger and

weep at the death of the very men who once used violence to us. You did not come to vindicate our

honour, while we were virgins, against our assailants; but do come now to force away wives from their

husbands and mothers from their children, a succour more grievous to its wretched objects than the

former betrayal and neglect of them. Which shall we call the worst, their love-making or your

compassion? If you were making war upon any other occasion, for our sakes you ought to withhold your

hands from those to whom we have made you fathers-in-law and grandsires. If it be for our own cause,

then take us, and with us your sons-in-law and grandchildren. Restore to us our parents and kindred, but

do not rob us of our children and husbands. Make us not, we entreat you, twice captives." Hersilia having

spoken many such words as these, and the others earnestly praying, a truce was made, and the chief

officers came to a parley; the women, in the meantime, brought and presented their husbands and children

to their fathers and brothers; gave those that wanted meat and drink, and carried the wounded home to be

cured, and showed also how much they governed within doors, and how indulgent their husbands were to

them, in demeaning themselves towards them with all kindness and respect imaginable. Upon this,

conditions were agreed upon, that what women pleased might stay where they were, exempt, as aforesaid,

from all drudgery and labour but spinning; that the Romans and Sabines should inhabit the city together;

that the city should be called Rome from Romulus; but the Romans, Quirites, from the country of Tatius;

and that they both should govern and command in common. The place of the ratification is still called

Comitium, from come to meet.

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APPENDIX III.A – CARMENTIS IN OVID

1. Carmentalia I – January 11th - Fasti 1.461- 586

Arrival of Carmentis to Italy

Proxima prospiciet Tithono nupta relicto

Arcadiae sacrum pontificale deae.

te quoque lux eadem, Turni soror, aede recepit,

hic ubi Virginea Campus obitur aqua.

unde petam causas horum moremque sacrorum? 465

deriget in medio quis mea vela freto?

ipsa mone, quae nomen habes a carmine ductum,

propositoque fave, ne tuus erret honor.

orta prior luna, de se si creditur ipsi,

a magno tellus Arcade nomen habet. 470

hinc fuit Euander, qui, quamquam clarus utroque,

nobilior sacrae sanguine matris erat;

quae, simul aetherios animo conceperat ignes,

ore dabat vero carmina plena dei.

dixerat haec nato motus instare sibique, 475

multaque praeterea tempore nacta fidem.

nam iuvenis nimium vera cum matre fugatus

deserit Arcadiam Parrhasiumque larem.

cui genetrix flenti 'fortuna viriliter' inquit

'(siste, precor, lacrimas) ista ferenda tibi est. 480

sic erat in fatis, nec te tua culpa fugavit,

sed deus: offenso pulsus es urbe deo.

non meriti poenam pateris, sed numinis iram:

est aliquid magnis crimen abesse malis.

conscia mens ut cuique sua est, ita concipit intra 485

pectora pro facto spemque metumque suo.

nec tamen ut primus maere mala talia passus:

obruit ingentes ista procella viros.

passus idem est Tyriis qui quondam pulsus ab oris

Cadmus in Aonia constitit exul humo; 490

passus idem Tydeus et idem Pagasaeus Iason,

et quos praeterea longa referre mora est.

omne solum forti patria est, ut piscibus aequor,

ut volucri vacuo quicquid in orbe patet.

nec fera tempestas toto tamen horret in anno: 495

et tibi, crede mihi, tempora veris erunt.'

vocibus Euander firmata mente parentis

nave secat fluctus Hesperiamque tenet.

iamque ratem doctae monitu Carmentis in amnem

egerat et Tuscis obvius ibat aquis: 500

fluminis illa latus, cui sunt vada iuncta Tarenti,

278

aspicit et sparsas per loca sola casas;

utque erat, immissis puppem stetit ante capillis,

continuitque manum torva regentis iter,

et procul in dextram tendens sua bracchia ripam 505

pinea non sano ter pede texta ferit,

neve daret saltum properans insistere terrae

vix est Euandri vixque retenta manu;

'di' que 'petitorum' dixit 'salvete locorum,

tuque, novos caelo terra datura deos, 510

fluminaque et fontes, quibus utitur hospita tellus,

et nemorum silvae Naiadumque chori,

este bonis avibus visi natoque mihique,

ripaque felici tacta sit ista pede.

fallor, an hi fient ingentia moenia colles, 515

iuraque ab hac terra cetera terra petet?

montibus his olim totus promittitur orbis.

quis tantum fati credat habere locum?

et iam Dardaniae tangent haec litora pinus:

hic quoque causa novi femina Martis erit. 520

care nepos Palla, funesta quid induis arma?

indue: non humili vindice caesus eris.

victa tamen vinces eversaque, Troia, resurges:

obruit hostiles ista ruina domos.

urite victrices Neptunia Pergama flammae: 525

num minus hic toto est altior orbe cinis?

iam pius Aeneas sacra et, sacra altera, patrem

adferet: Iliacos accipe, Vesta, deos.

tempus erit cum vos orbemque tuebitur idem,

et fient ipso sacra colente deo, 530

et penes Augustos patriae tutela manebit:

hanc fas imperii frena tenere domum.

inde nepos natusque dei, licet ipse recuset,

pondera caelesti mente paterna feret,

utque ego perpetuis olim sacrabor in aris, 535

sic Augusta novum Iulia numen erit.'

talibus ut dictis nostros descendit in annos,

substitit in medio praescia lingua sono.

puppibus egressus Latia stetit exul in herba:

felix, exilium cui locus ille fuit! 540

nec mora longa fuit: stabant nova tecta, nec alter

montibus Ausoniis Arcade maior erat.

Hercules, Cacus, and Carmentis

ecce boves illuc Erytheidas adplicat heros

emensus longi claviger orbis iter,

dumque huic hospitium domus est Tegeaea, vagantur 545

279

incustoditae lata per arva boves.

mane erat: excussus somno Tirynthius actor

de numero tauros sentit abesse duos.

nulla videt quaerens taciti vestigia furti:

traxerat aversos Cacus in antra ferox, 550

Cacus, Aventinae timor atque infamia silvae,

non leve finitimis hospitibusque malum.

dira viro facies, vires pro corpore, corpus

grande (pater monstri Mulciber huius erat),

proque domo longis spelunca recessibus ingens, 555

abdita, vix ipsis invenienda feris;

ora super postes adfixaque bracchia pendent,

squalidaque humanis ossibus albet humus.

servata male parte boum Iove natus abibat:

mugitum rauco furta dedere sono. 560

'accipio revocamen' ait, vocemque secutus

impia per silvas ultor ad antra venit.

ille aditum fracti praestruxerat obice montis;

vix iuga movissent quinque bis illud opus.

nititur hic umeris (caelum quoque sederat illis), 565

et vastum motu conlabefactat onus.

quod simul eversum est, fragor aethera terruit ipsum,

ictaque subsedit pondere molis humus.

prima movet Cacus conlata proelia dextra

remque ferox saxis stipitibusque gerit. 570

quis ubi nil agitur, patrias male fortis ad artes

confugit, et flammas ore sonante vomit;

quas quotiens proflat, spirare Typhoea credas

et rapidum Aetnaeo fulgur ab igne iaci.

occupat Alcides, adductaque clava trinodis 575

ter quater adverso sedit in ore viri.

ille cadit mixtosque vomit cum sanguine fumos

et lato moriens pectore plangit humum.

immolat ex illis taurum tibi, Iuppiter, unum

victor et Euandrum ruricolasque vocat, 580

constituitque sibi, quae Maxima dicitur, aram,

hic ubi pars Urbis de bove nomen habet.

nec tacet Euandri mater prope tempus adesse

Hercule quo tellus sit satis usa suo.

at felix vates, ut dis gratissima vixit, 585

possidet hunc Iani sic dea mense diem.

The471 next bride (Aurora), with Tithonus left behind, will behold the pontifical rite of the Arcadian

goddess. The same day also received you in your temple, sister of Turnus, here where the Campus is

encircled by the Virgin Water. Whence shall I seek the causes and manner of these rites? Who will direct

471 Translation mine.

280

my sails in the middle of the sea? You yourself advise me, who have a name derived from poetry, and

favor my project, lest your honor be lacking. The land that arose before the moon (if it is to be believed

about itself) has its name from great Arcas. Here was Evander, who, although famous on both sides, was

more noble due to the blood of his sacred mother. Who as soon as she had conceived heavenly fires in her

soul, used to give true verses with her voice full of the god. She had said that troubles were pressing upon

her son and herself, and many things besides that proved her trustworthiness in time. For the youth,

banished with his too-truthful mother deserted Arcadia and his Parrhasian lar. His mother said to him as

he was crying, “This fortune (stop your tears, I pray) must be borne by you in a manly way. Thus it was in

the fates; nor did your fault exile you, but a god; you were expelled from the city with the gods offended.

You are suffering not deserved punishment but the anger of a divinity: it is something for a crime to be

absent from great misfortunes. As each one’s mind is knowing, so it conceives within his breast both hope

and fear on behalf of his deed. And do not, having suffered such misfortunes, mourn them as if you were

the first: that storm has ruined great men. He suffered the same, Cadmus, who once, having been expelled

from Tyrian shores, stood as an exile on Aonian soil: Tydeus suffered the same and Pagasean Jason the

same, and those besides whom it would be a long delay to relate. Every piece of ground is a fatherland to

the brave man, as the sea to fish, as whatever lies open in the empty world is to the bird. Nor does the

wild tempest bristle in the whole year: even for you (believe me) there will be times of spring.” Evander,

with his mind strengthened by his mother’s words, cuts the waves with his ship and reaches Hesperia.

And now upon the advice of learned Carmentis he had driven his boat into the river and he was going

against the Tuscan waters: she catches sight of the bank, to which the shallows of Tarentum are joined,

and the houses scattered throughout solitary places; and as she was, she stood in front of the deck with her

hair disheveled and she, stern, stopped the hand of the one guiding the journey, and reaching her arms

toward the right bank she beat the pine deck three times with an insane foot; and she, hastening to stand

on the ground, is scarcely able to be held back from leaping by Evander’s hand. “Greetings,” she said,

“gods of the sought-after places, and you, land about to give new gods to the sky, and rivers and springs

that this hospitable land uses, and nymphs of the groves and bands of Naiads! Be like good birds, having

been seen by my son and by me, and may that bank be touched by a fortunate foot! Am I deceived, or will

these hills become great walls, and will another land seek laws from this land? One day the whole earth is

promised to these mountains: who could believe that the place has such a great fate? And now Dardanian

pine will touch these shores: here also the cause of a new war will be a woman. Dear grandson Pallas,

why do you don fatal arms? Put them on! You will be slain with no humble avenger. Nevertheless you,

conquered Troy, will conquer, and you will rise again, having been overthrown: that ruin will destroy

enemy homes. There will be a time, when the same man will guard both you and the world, and rites will

happen with the god himself worshipping, and the protection of the fatherland will remain in the hands of

Augustans: it is right for this house to hold the reins of empire. Thence the grandson and son of a god,

although he himself will refuse, will bear his father’s weight with a heavenly mind; and as I shall one day

be reverenced on perpetual altars, so Julia Augusta will be a new divinity.” When with these words she

descended into our years, her prescient tongue halts in the middle of her utterances. Having disembarked

from his ships he stood, an exile, on Latian grass, lucky man, for whom that place was exile! Nor was

there a long delay: new buildings were standing, nor was any other of the Ausonian mountains greater

than the Arcadian.

Behold! The club-bearing hero, having completed a journey over the wide world, drives the Erythean

cattle here, and while the Tegean house grants him hospitality, the unwatched cattle wander over the wide

fields. It was early: struck from his sleep, the Tirynthian driver sensed that two of his bulls were missing

from his number. Searching, he sees no signs of their silent theft: monstrous Cacus had dragged them

backwards into his cave, Cacus, the terror and infamy of the Aventine forest, a significant evil to

neighbors and strangers. The face of the man was grim, strength was in his body, his body huge (the

father of the monster was Mulciber), and instead of a home he had a huge cave with long recesses,

hidden, scarcely able to be found by the wild beasts themselves; heads and arms hung fixed over the

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doorways, and the gory earth glistened white with human bones. The son of Jove was going away with

part of his herd badly kept: the thefts gave a moo with hoarse voice. ‘I accept the recall,’ he said, and

having followed the voice he came as an avenger through the forest to the wicked caves. The monster had

blocked the entrance with a blockade of broken mountain; ten yoked beasts could scarcely have moved

that work. Hercules pushed it with his shoulders (the heavens had once sat upon them too), and brought

down the vast weight with his movement. When it was overturned, the crash frightened the heavens

themselves, and the earth, having been struck, sank under the weight of the mass. Cacus battled first hand

to hand and fiercely waged war with rocks and sticks. When these were to no avail, he, faring badly,

sought refuge in his father’s arts, and he vomited flames from his roaring mouth; whenever he spewed

them, you would believe that Typhoeus was blowing and that a sudden blaze was hurled forth from the

Aetnean fire. Alcides seized him, and the swinging triple-knotted club landed three and four times on the

man’s opposing face. He fell and vomited smoke mixed with blood and, dying, struck the ground with

his wide chest. The victor sacrificed one of those bulls to you, Jupiter, and he called Evander and the

countrymen, and he established an altar to himself, which is called “The Greatest,” here where part of the

city has the name from “Cow.” Nor was Evander’s mother silent about the fact that the time was near

when the earth would be done with its Hercules. But the happy prophetess, since she lived most

pleasingly to the gods, thus possesses this day in the month of January as a goddess.

2. Carmentalia II – January 15th – Fasti 1.617-636

Respiciet Titan actas ubi tertius Idus,

fient Parrhasiae sacra relata deae.

nam prius Ausonias matres carpenta vehebant

(haec quoque ab Euandri dicta parente reor); 620

mox honor eripitur, matronaque destinat omnis

ingratos nulla prole novare viros,

neve daret partus, ictu temeraria caeco

visceribus crescens excutiebat onus.

corripuisse patres ausas immitia nuptas, 625

ius tamen exemptum restituisse ferunt;

binaque nunc pariter Tegeaeae sacra parenti

pro pueris fieri virginibusque iubent,

scortea non illi fas est inferre sacello,

ne violent puros exanimata focos. 630

siquis amas veteres ritus, adsiste precanti:

nomina percipies non tibi nota prius.

Porrima placatur Postvertaque, sive sorores

sive fugae comites, Maenali diva, tuae:

altera quod porro fuerat cecinisse putatur, 635

altera venturum postmodo quicquid erat.

When the third Titan looks back on the past Ides, the rites of the Parrhasian goddess will be brought back.

For before carpenta (carriages) used to carry Ausonian mothers (these I think were also named after the

parent of Evander); as soon as the honor is taken away, every matron decides not to renew her ungrateful

husband with any children, and lest she give birth, with a blind thrust she would rashly strike the growing

burden from her womb. They say that the senators castigated their wives for daring such cruelties,

nevertheless the right that had been taken away is restored; and now they order that two festivals be held

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equally for the Tegaean parent on behalf of boys and girls. It is not lawful to bring leather garments into

that shrine, lest they, having been robbed of life, violate the pure hearths. If any of you love ancient rites,

stand by one who is praying to her: you will perceive names not known to you before. Porrima is

placated and Postverta, whether sisters or companions of your flight, Maenalian goddess: the one is

thought to have sung, what had happened long before, the other, whatever was about to happen thereafter.

3. Fasti 6.473-550

Iam, Phryx, a nupta quereris, Tithone, relinqui,

et vigil Eois Lucifer exit aquis:

ite, bonae matres (vestrum Matralia festum) 475

flavaque Thebanae reddite liba deae.

pontibus et magno iuncta est celeberrima Circo

area, quae posito de bove nomen habet.

hac ibi luce ferunt Matutae sacra parenti

sceptriferas Servi templa dedisse manus, 480

quae dea sit, quare famulas a limine templi

arceat (arcet enim) libaque tosta petat,

Bacche, racemiferos hedera redimite capillos,

si domus illa tua est, dirige vatis opus...

vix bene desierat, complent ululatibus auras

Thyades effusis per sua colla comis,

iniciuntque manus puerumque revellere pugnant, 515

quos ignorat adhuc, invocat illa deos:

‘dique virique loci, miserae succurrite matri!’

clamor Aventini saxa propinqua ferit,

appulerat ripae vaccas Oetaeus Hiberas:

audit et ad vocem concitus urget iter. 520

Herculis adventu, quae vim modo ferre parabant,

turpia femineae terga dedere fugae.

‘quid petis hinc’ (cognorat enim) ‘matertera Bacchi?

an numen, quod me, te quoque vexat?’ ait.

illa docet partim, partim praesentia nati 525

continet, et furiis in scelus isse pudet,

rumor, ut est velox, agitatis pervolat alis,

estque frequens, Ino, nomen in ore tuum.

hospita Carmentis fidos intrasse penates

diceris et longam deposuisse famem; 530

liba sua properata manu Tegeaca sacerdos

traditur in subito cocta dedisse foco.

nunc quoque liba iuvant festis Matralibus illam:

rustica sedulitas gratior arte fuit.

‘nunc,’ ait ‘o vates, venientia fata resigna, 535

qua licet, hospitiis hoc, precor, adde meis.’

parva mora est, caelum vates ac numina sumit

fitque sui toto pectore plena dei;

vix illam subito posses cognoscere, tanto

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sanctior et tanto, quam modo, maior erat. 540

‘laeta canam, gaude, defuncta laboribus Ino,’

dixit ‘et huic populo prospera semper ades.

numen eris pelagi, natum quoque pontus habebit.

in vestris aliud sumite nomen aquis:

Leucothea Grais, Matuta vocabere nostris; 545

in portus nato ius erit omne tuo,

quem nos Portunum, sua lingua Palaemona dicet.

ite, precor, nostris aequus uterque locis!’

annuerat, promissa fides, posuere labores,

nomina mutarunt: hic deus, illa dea est. 550

Now, Phrygian Tithonus, you complain that you are left behind by your wife, and watchful Lucifer leaves

the eastern waters: go, good mothers (the Matralia is your festval) and render the yellow cakes to the

Theban goddess. There is a very celebrated space adjoining the bridges and the great Circus, which has

its name from the cow placed there: there on this day they say the scepter-bearing hands of Servius gave a

sacred temple to mother Matuta. Who the goddess is, why she bars female slaves from the doorway of her

temple (for she does) and seeks toasted cakes, Bacchus, with your grape-bearing hair entwined with ivy,

if that is your house, direct the work of the poet...

She had scarcely ceased, the Thyads fill the air with their shouts with their hair disheveled around their

necks, and they throw their hands on her son and fight to pull him away. She calls on the gods, whom she

does not yet know: “Gods and men of the place, help a wretched mother!” The shout strikes the rocks

near the Aventine. The Oetaean man had driven the Iberian cattle to the shore: he hears and, agitated,

hurries his journey toward the voice. With the advent of Hercules, the women who were preparing to

bring force gave their shameful backs to feminine flight. “What do you seek from this place, Bacchus’

aunt?” (for he recognized her) “Or does the divinity that troubles me trouble you, too?” he said. She tells

him part, but part the presence of her son restrains, and she is ashamed to have committed a crime

because of the furies. Rumor, since she is swift, flies on agitated wings, and your name, Ino, is frequent

in her mouth. You are said to have entered the faithful penates of Carmentis as a guest, and to have put

aside your long hunger; the Tegean priestess is said to have given cakes cooked on a sudden hearth with

her own hurried hand. Now also the cakes please her on the festival of the Matralia: rustic zeal was more

pleasing than art. “Now,” she says, “prophetess, reveal my coming fates, wherever it is permitted. Add

this to my hospitality, I pray.” The delay is small, the prophet takes on the heaven and gods and becomes

full of her god in her whole chest; suddenly you would scarcely be able to recognize her, so much holier

and so much greater was she, than she had been just before. “I will sing happy things. Rejoice, Ino,

having finished your labors,” she said, “and come always prosperous to this people. You will be a

goddess of the sea, the sea will hold your son, too. Take another name in your waters: you will be called

Leucothea by the Greek people, Matuta by ours; all authority in the ports will be your son’s, whom we

will call Portunus, his own language will call Palaemon. Go, I pray, both fair to our lands!” She

assented, having promised faith. They put down their labors, they changed their names: he is a god, she is

a goddess.

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APPENDIX III.B - Carmentis in Other Sources

1. Strabo 5.3.3

ἄλλη δέ τις προτέρα καὶ μυθώδης Ἀρκαδικὴν λέγουσα γενέσθαι τὴν ἀποικίαν ὑπ᾽ Εὐάνδρου. τούτῳ δ᾽

ἐπιξενωθῆναι τὸν Ἡρακλέα, ἐλαύνοντα τὰς Γηρυόνου βοῦς: πυθόμενον δὲ τῆς μητρὸς Νικοστράτης τὸν

Εὔανδρον (εἶναι δ᾽ αὐτὴν μαντικῆς ἔμπειρον), ὅτι τῷ Ἡρακλεῖ πεπρωμένον ἦν τελέσαντι τοὺς ἄθλους

θεῷ γενέσθαι, φράσαι τε πρὸς τὸν Ἡρακλέα ταῦτα καὶ τέμενος ἀναδεῖξαι καὶ θῦσαι θυσίαν Ἑλληνικήν,

ἣν καὶ νῦν ἔτι φυλάττεσθαι τῷ Ἡρακλεῖ. καὶ ὅ γε Κοίλιος, ὁ τῶν Ῥωμαίων συγγραφεύς, τοῦτο τίθεται

σημεῖον τοῦ Ἑλληνικὸν εἶναι κτίσμα τὴν Ῥώμην, τὸ παρ᾽ αὐτῇ τὴν πάτριον θυσίαν Ἑλληνικὴν εἶναι τῷ

Ἡρακλεῖ. καὶ τὴν μητέρα δὲ τοῦ Εὐάνδρου τιμῶσι Ῥωμαῖοι, μίαν τῶν νυμφῶν νομίσαντες, Καρμέντιν

μετονομασθεῖσαν.

But there is another [foundation story], older and fabulous, in which we are told that Rome was an

Arcadian colony and founded by Evander: when Heracles was driving the cattle of Geryone he was

entertained by Evander; and since Evander had learned from his mother Nicostrate (she was skilled in the

art of divination, the story goes) that Heracles was destined to become a god after he had finished his

labours, he not only told this to Heracles but also consecrated to him a precinct and offered a sacrifice to

him after the Greek ritual, which is still to this day kept up in honour of Heracles. And Coelius himself,

the Roman historian, puts this down as proof that Rome was founded by Greeks – the fact that at Rome

the hereditary sacrifice to Heracles is after the Greek ritual. And the Romans honour also the mother of

Evander, regarding her as one of the nyphs, although her name has been changed to Carmentis.

2. Dionysius of Halicarnassus

a) I.31-32

μετὰ δὲ οὐ πολὺν χρόνον στόλος ἄλλος Ἑλληνικὸς εἰς ταῦτα τὰ χωρία τῆς Ἰταλίας κατάγεται, ἑξηκοστῷ

μάλιστα ἔτει πρότερον τῶν Τρωικῶν, ὡς αὐτοὶ Ῥωμαῖοι λέγουσιν, ἐκ Παλλαντίου πόλεως Ἀρκαδικῆς

ἀναστάς. ἡγεῖτο δὲ τῆς ἀποικίας Εὔανδρος Ἑρμοῦ λεγόμενος καὶ νύμφης τινὸς Ἀρκάσιν ἐπιχωρίας, ἣν οἱ

μὲν Ἕλληνες Θέμιν εἶναι λέγουσι καὶ θεοφόρητον ἀποφαίνουσιν, οἱ δὲ τὰς Ῥωμαϊκὰς συγγράψαντες

ἀρχαιολογίας τῇ πατρίῳ γλώσσῃ Καρμέντην ὀνομάζουσιν: εἴη δ᾽ ἂν Ἑλλάδι φωνῇ Θεσπιῳδὸς τῇ νύμφῃ

τοὔνομα: τὰς μὲν γὰρ ᾠδὰς καλοῦσι Ῥωμαῖοι κάρμινα, τὴν δὲ γυναῖκα ταύτην ὁμολογοῦσι δαιμονίῳ

πνεύματι κατάσχετον γενομένην τὰ μέλλοντα συμβαίνειν τῷ πλήθει δι᾽ ᾠδῆς προλέγειν. [2] ὁ δὲ στόλος

οὗτος οὐκ ἀπὸ τοῦ κοινοῦ τῆς γνώμης ἐπέμφθη, ἀλλὰ στασιάσαντος τοῦ δήμου τὸ ἐλαττωθὲν μέρος

ἑκούσιον ὑπεξῆλθεν. ἐτύγχανε δὲ τότε τὴν βασιλείαν τῶν Ἀβοριγίνων παρειληφὼς Φαῦνος, Ἄρεος ὥς

φασιν ἀπόγονος, ἀνὴρ μετὰ τοῦ δραστηρίου καὶ συνετὸς, καὶ αὐτὸν ὡς τῶν ἐπιχωρίων τινὰ Ῥωμαῖοι

δαιμόνων θυσίαις καὶ ᾠδαῖς γεραίρουσιν. οὗτος ὁ ἀνὴρ δεξάμενος κατὰ πολλὴν φιλότητα τοὺς Ἀρκάδας

ὀλίγους ὄντας, δίδωσιν αὐτοῖς τῆς αὑτοῦ χώρας ὁπόσην ἐβούλοντο. [3] οἱ δὲ Ἀρκάδες, ὡς ἡ Θέμις αὐτοῖς

ἐπιθειάζουσα ἔφραζεν, αἱροῦνται λόφον ὀλίγον ἀπέχοντα τοῦ Τεβέριος, ὅς ἐστι νῦν ἐν μέσῳ μάλιστα τῆς

Ῥωμαίων πόλεως, καὶ κατασκευάζονται πρὸς αὐτῷ κώμην βραχεῖαν, δυσὶ ναυτικοῖς πληρώμασιν ἐν οἷς

ἀπανέστησαν τῆς Ἑλλάδος ἀποχρῶσαν, ἣν ἔμελλε τὸ πεπρωμένον σὺν χρόνῳ θήσειν ὅσην οὔθ᾽ Ἑλλάδα

πόλιν οὔτε βάρβαρον κατά τε οἰκήσεως μέγεθος καὶ κατὰ δυναστείας ἀξίωσιν καὶ τὴν ἄλλην ἅπασαν

εὐτυχίαν, χρόνον τε ὁπόσον ἂν ὁ θνητος αἰὼν ἀντέχῃ [4] πόλεων μάλιστα πασῶν μνημονευθησομένην.

ὄνομα δὲ τῷ πολίσματι τούτῳ τίθενται Παλλάντιον ἐπὶ τῆς ἐν Ἀρκαδίᾳ σφῶν μητροπόλεως: νῦν μέντοι

Παλάτιον ὑπὸ Ῥωμαίων λέγεται συγχέαντος τοῦ χρόνου τὴν ἀκρίβειαν καὶ παρέχει πολλοῖς ἀτόπων

ἐτυμολογιῶν ἀφορμάς: (32) ὡς δέ τινες ἱστοροῦσιν, ὧν ἐστι καὶ Πολύβιος ὁ Μεγαλοπολίτης, ἐπί τινος

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μειρακίου Πάλλαντος αὐτόθι τελευτήσαντος: τοῦτον δὲ Ἡρακλέους εἶναι παῖδα καὶ Λαύνας τῆς

Εὐάνδρου θυγατρός: χώσαντα δ᾽ αὐτῷ τὸν μητροπάτορα τάφον ἐπὶ τῷ λόφῳ Παλλάντιον ἐπὶ τοῦ

μειρακίου τὸν τόπον ὀνομάσαι. [2] ἐγὼ μέντοι οὔτε τάφον ἐθεασάμην ἐν Ῥώμῃ Πάλλαντος οὔτε χοὰς

ἔμαθον ἐπιτελουμένας οὔτε ἄλλο τῶν τοιουτοτρόπων οὐδὲν ἠδυνήθην ἰδεῖν, καίτοι γε οὐκ ἀμνήστου τῆς

οἰκίας ταύτης ἀφειμένης οὐδ᾽ ἀμοίρου τιμῶν αἷς τὸ δαιμόνιον γένος ὑπ᾽ ἀνθρώπων γεραίρεται. καὶ γὰρ

Εὐάνδρῳ θυσίας ἔμαθον ὑπὸ Ῥωμαίων ἐπιτελουμένας ὁσέτη δημοσίᾳ καὶ Καρμέντῃ, καθάπερ τοῖς

λοιποῖς ἥρωσι καὶ δαίμοσι, καὶ βωμοὺς ἐθεασάμην ἱδρυμένους, Καρμέντῃ μὲν ὑπὸ τῷ καλουμένῳ

Καπιτωλίῳ παρὰ ταῖς Καρμεντίσι πύλαις, Εὐάνδρῳ δὲ πρὸς ἑτέρῳ τῶν λόφων Αὐεντίνῳ λεγομένῳ τῆς

Τριδύμου πύλης οὐ πρόσω: Πάλλαντι δὲ [3] οὐδὲν οἶδα τούτων γινόμενον.

(31) [1] Soon472 after, another Greek expedition landed in this part of Italy, having migrated from

Pallantium, a town of Arcadia, about the sixtieth year before the Trojan war, as the Romans themselves

say. This colony had for its leader Evander, who is said to have been the son of Hermes and a local

nymph of the Arcadians. The Greeks call her Themis and say that she was inspired, but the writers of the

early history of Rome call her, in the native language, Carmenta. The nymph's name would be in Greek

Thespiôdos or "prophetic singer"; for the Romans call songs carmina, and they agree that this woman,

possessed by divine inspiration, foretold to the people in song the things that would come to pass. [2] This

expedition was not sent out by the common consent of the nation, but, a sedition having arisen among the

people, the faction which was defeated left the country of their own accord. It chanced that the kingdom

of the Aborigines had been inherited at that time by Faunus, a descendant of Mars, it is said, a man of

prudence as well as energy, whom the Romans in their sacrifices and songs honour as one of the gods of

their country. This man received the Arcadians, who were but few in number, with great friendship and

gave them as much of his own land as they desired. [3] And the Arcadians, as Themis by inspiration kept

advising them, chose a hill, not far from the Tiber, which is now near the middle of the city of Rome, and

by this hill built a small village sufficient for the complement of the two ships in which they had come

from Greece. Yet this village was ordained by fate to excel in the course of time all other cities, whether

Greek or barbarian, not only in its size, but also in the majesty of its empire and in every other form of

prosperity, and to be celebrated above them all as long as mortality shall endure. [4] They named the town

Pallantium after their mother-city in Arcadia; now, however, the Romans call it Palatium, time having

obscured the correct form, and this name has given occasion of the many to suggest absurd etymologies.

(32) [1] But some writers, among them Polybius of Megalopolis, related that the town was named after

Pallas, a lad who died there; they say that he was the son of Hercules and Lavinia, the daughter of

Evander, and that his maternal grandfather raised a tomb to him on the hill and called the place

Pallantium, after the lad. [2] But I have never seen any tomb of Pallas at Rome nor have I heard of any

drink-offerings being made in his honour nor been able to discover anything else of that nature, although

this family has not been left unremembered or without those honours with which divine beings are

worshipped by men. For I have learned that public sacrifices are performed yearly by the Romans to

Evander and to Carmenta in the same manner as to the other heroes and minor deities; and I have seen

two altars that were erected, one to Carmenta under the Capitoline hill near the Porta Carmentalis, and the

other to Evander by another hill, called the Aventine, not far from the Porta Trigemina; [3] but I know of

nothing of this kind that is done in honour of Pallas.

b) I.40.1-2

[1] οἱ δὲ Ἀβοριγῖνες καὶ τῶν Ἀρκάδων οἱ τὸ Παλλάντιον κατοικοῦντες, ὡς τοῦ τε Κάκου τὸν θάνατον

ἔγνωσαν καὶ τὸν Ἡρακλέα εἶδον, τῷ μὲν ἀπεχθόμενοι διὰ τὰς ἁρπαγάς, τοῦ δὲ τὴν ὄψιν ἐκπαγλούμενοι

472 Translation from Carey 1937.

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θεῖόν τι χρῆμα ἐνόμισαν ὁρᾶν καὶ τοῦ λῃστοῦ μέγα εὐτύχημα τὴν ἀποβολὴν ἐποιοῦντο. οἱ δὲ πένητες

αὐτῶν κλάδους δρεψάμενοι δάφνης, ἣ πολλὴ περὶ τὸν τόπον ἐφύετο, ἐκεῖνόν τε καὶ αὑτοὺς ἀνέστεφον,

ἧκον δὲ οἱ βασιλεῖς αὐτῶν ἐπὶ ξένια τὸν Ἡρακλέα καλοῦντες. ὡς δὲ καὶ τοὔνομα καὶ τὸ γένος αὐτοῦ καὶ

τὰς πράξεις διεξιόντος ἔμαθον, ἐνεχείριζον αὐτῷ τήν τε χώραν καὶ σφᾶς αὐτοὺς ἐπὶ φιλίᾳ. [2] Εὔανδρος

δὲ παλαίτερον ἔτι τῆς Θέμιδος ἀκηκοὼς διεξιούσης, ὅτι πεπρωμένον εἴη τὸν ἐκ Διὸς καὶ Ἀλκμήνης

γενόμενον Ἡρακλέα διαμείψαντα τὴν θνητὴν φύσιν ἀθάνατον γενέσθαι δι᾽ ἀρετήν, ἐπειδὴ τάχιστα ὅστις

ἦν ἐπύθετο, φθάσαι βουλόμενος ἅπαντας ἀνθρώπους Ἡρακλέα θεῶν τιμαῖς πρῶτος ἱλασάμενος, βωμὸν

αὐτοσχέδιον ὑπὸ σπουδῆς ἱδρύεται καὶ δάμαλιν ἄζυγα θύει πρὸς αὐτῷ, τὸ θέσφατον ἀφηγησάμενος

Ἡρακλεῖ καὶ δεηθεὶς τῶν ἱερῶν κατάρξασθαι.

When the Aborigines and the Arcadians who lived at Pallantium learned of the death of Cacus and saw

Hercules, they thought themselves very fortunate in being rid of the former, whom they detested for his

robberies, and were struck with awe at the appearance of the latter, in whom they seemed to see

something divine. The poorer among them, plucking branches of laurel which grew there in great plenty,

crowned both him and themselves with it; and their kings also came to invite Hercules to be their guest.

But when they heard from him his name, his lineage and his achievements, they recommended both their

country and themselves to his friendship. And Evander, who had even before this heard Themis relate that

it was ordained by fate that Hercules, the son of Jupiter and Alcmena, changing his mortal nature, should

become immortal by reason of his virtue, as soon as he learned who the stranger was, resolved to forestall

all mankind by being the first to propitiate Hercules with divine honours, and he hastily erected an

improvised altar and sacrificed upon it a calf that had not known the yoke, having first communicated the

oracle to Hercules and asked him to perform the initial rites.

c) I.79.4 ff.

4. περὶ δὲ τῶν ἐκ τῆς Ἰλίας γενομένων Κόιντος μὲν Φάβιος ὁ Πίκτωρ λεγόμενος, ᾧ Λεύκιός τε Κίγκιος

καὶ Κάτων Πόρκιος καὶ Πείσων Καλπούρνιος καὶ τῶν ἄλλων συγγραφέων οἱ πλείους ἠκολούθησαν,

γέγραφε:…

8. ἦν δὲ τὸ χωρίον τῶν σὺν Εὐάνδρῳ ποτὲ οἰκισάντων αὐτὸ Ἀρκάδων ἱερὸν ὡς λέγεται.

4. But concerning the babes born of Ilia, Quintus Fabius, called Pictor, whom Lucius Cincius, Porcius

Cato, Calpurnius Piso and most of the other historians have followed, writes thus…

8. This spot is said to have been a holy place of the Arcadians who formerly settled there with Evander…

3. Servius

a). Commentary on Aeneid 8 line 51

Euander Arcas fuit, nepos Pallantis, regis Arcadiae. hic patrem suum occidit, suadente matre Nicostrata,

quae etiam Carmentis dicta est, quia carminibus vaticinabatur. alii ipsam Nicostratam, matrem Euandri,

cum esset centum decem annorum, a filio peremptam tradunt. constat autem Arcadas plurimum vixisse, in

tantum, ut quidam usque ad trecentos annos vivendo pervenerint. ipse autem Euander, dimissa provincia

sua exilio, non sponte, conpulsus venit ad Italiam et pulsis Aboriginibus tenuit loca, in quibus nunc Roma

est, et modicum oppidum fundavit in monte Palatino, sicut ait Varro “nonne Arcades exules confugerunt

in Palatium, duce Euandro?”

287

Evander473 was an Arcadian, grandson of Pallas, kind of Arcadia. He killed his father, with his mother

Nicostrata urging him on, who is also called Carmentis, because she used to give prophecies in verse.

Others say that that very Nicostrata, the mother of Evander, was taken by her son, when she was a

hundred and ten years old. Nevertheless it is agreed that the Arcadians lived for a long time, so long, that

some came all the way to three hundred years in their life. Moreover Evander himself, with his own

province lost by exile, not by choice, was compelled to come to Italy and, with the Aborigines expelled,

took hold of the places, in which now Rome lies, and he founded a small town on the Palatine mountain,

just as Varro says, “Didn’t Arcadian exiles flee to the Palatine, with Evander as their leader?”

b) Commentary on Aeneid 336

matris [Evandris], quae Nicostrate dicta est, sed ideo Carmentis appellata a suis, quod divinatione fata

caneret: nam antique vates carmentes dicebantur, unde etiam librarios qui eorum dicta perscriberent,

carmentarios nuncupatos. alii huius comites Porrimam et Postvertam tradunt, quia vatibus et praeterita et

futura sunt nota.

The mother of Evander, who was called Nicostrate, but is called Carmentis by her own people, because

she sang the fates through divination: for in ancient times prophets were called “carmentes,” whence the

librarians who wrote their sayings are called Carmentarii. Others say that her companions are Porrima

and Postverta, because both the past and the future are known to the prophetesses.

4. Livy

a) I.7.3-1.7.15

Palatium primum, in quo ipse erat educatus, muniit. Sacra dis aliis Albano ritu, Graeco Herculi, ut ab

Euandro instituta erant, facit. Herculem in ea loca Geryone interempto boues mira specie abegisse

memorant, ac prope Tiberim fluuium, qua prae se armentum agens nando traiecerat, loco herbido ut

quiete et pabulo laeto reficeret boues et ipsum fessum uia procubuisse. Ibi cum eum cibo uinoque

grauatum sopor oppressisset, pastor accola eius loci, nomine Cacus, ferox uiribus, captus pulchritudine

boum cum auertere eam praedam uellet, quia si agendo armentum in speluncam compulisset ipsa uestigia

quaerentem dominum eo deductura erant, auersos boues eximium quemque pulchritudine caudis in

speluncam traxit. Hercules ad primam auroram somno excitus cum gregem perlustrasset oculis et partem

abesse numero sensisset, pergit ad proximam speluncam, si forte eo uestigia ferrent. Quae ubi omnia foras

uersa uidit nec in partem aliam ferre, confusus atque incertus animi ex loco infesto agere porro armentum

occepit. Inde cum actae boues quaedam ad desiderium, ut fit, relictorum mugissent, reddita inclusorum ex

spelunca boum uox Herculem convertit. Quem cum uadentem ad speluncam Cacus ui prohibere conatus

esset, ictus claua fidem pastorum nequiquam inuocans mortem occubuit. Euander tum ea, profugus ex

Peloponneso, auctoritate magis quam imperio regebat loca, uenerabilis uir miraculo litterarum, rei nouae

inter rudes artium homines, uenerabilior diuinitate credita Carmentae matris, quam fatiloquam ante

Sibyllae in Italiam aduentum miratae eae gentes fuerant. Is tum Euander concursu pastorum trepidantium

circa aduenam manifestae reum caedis excitus postquam facinus facinorisque causam audiuit, habitum

formamque uiri aliquantum ampliorem augustioremque humana intuens rogitat qui uir esset. Vbi nomen

patremque ac patriam accepit, "Ioue nate, Hercules, salue," inquit; "te mihi mater, ueridica interpres

deum, aucturum caelestium numerum cecinit, tibique aram hic dicatum iri quam opulentissima olim in

terris gens maximam uocet tuoque ritu colat." Dextra Hercules data accipere se omen impleturumque fata

ara condita ac dicata ait. Ibi tum primum boue eximia capta de grege sacrum Herculi, adhibitis ad

473 Translation mine.

288

ministerium dapemque Potitiis ac Pinariis, quae tum familiae maxime inclitae ea loca incolebant, factum.

Forte ita euenit ut Potitii ad tempus praesto essent iisque exta apponerentur, Pinarii extis adesis ad

ceteram uenirent dapem. Inde institutum mansit donec Pinarium genus fuit, ne extis eorum sollemnium

uescerentur. Potitii ab Euandro edocti antistites sacri eius per multas aetates fuerunt, donec tradito seruis

publicis sollemni familiae ministerio genus omne Potitiorum interiit. Haec tum sacra Romulus una ex

omnibus peregrina suscepit, iam tum immortalitatis uirtute partae ad quam eum sua fata ducebant fautor.

The474 worship of the other deities he conducted according to the use of Alba, but that of Hercules in

accordance with the Greek rites as they had been instituted by Evander. It was into this neighbourhood,

according to the tradition, that Hercules, after he had killed Geryon, drove his oxen, which were of

marvellous beauty. He swam across the Tiber, driving the oxen before him, and wearied with his journey,

lay down in a grassy place near the river to rest himself and the oxen, who enjoyed the rich pasture. When

sleep had overtaken him, as he was heavy with food and wine, a shepherd living near, called Cacus,

presuming on his strength, and captivated by the beauty of the oxen, determined to secure them. If he

drove them before him into the cave, their hoof-marks would have led their owner on his search for them

in the same direction, so he dragged the finest of them backwards by their tails into his cave. At the first

streak of dawn Hercules awoke, and on surveying his herd saw that some were missing. He proceeded

towards the nearest cave, to see if any tracks pointed in that direction, but he found that every hoof-mark

led from the cave and none towards it. Perplexed and bewildered he began to drive the herd away from so

dangerous a neighbourhood. Some of the cattle, missing those which were left behind, lowed as they

often do, and an answering low sounded from the cave. Hercules turned in that direction, and as Cacus

tried to prevent him by force from entering the cave, he was killed by a blow from Hercules' club, after

vainly appealing for help to his comrades.

At that time Evander, exiled from the Peloponnese, was ruling those places with authority more

than legitimate command, a man venerated for the miracle of letters, a new thing among men crude in the

arts, a man even more venerated because of the believed divinity of his mother Carmenta, whom those

people honored as a prophetess before the coming of the Sibyl into Italy. This Evander, alarmed by the

crowd of excited shepherds standing round a stranger whom they accused of open murder, ascertained

from them the nature of his act and what led to it. As he observed the bearing and stature of the man to be

more than human in greatness and august dignity, he asked who he was. When he heard his name, and

learnt his father and his country he said, "Hercules, son of Jupiter, hail! My mother, who speaks truth in

the name of the gods, has prophesied that thou shalt join the company of the gods, and that here a shrine

shall be dedicated to thee, which in ages to come the most powerful nation in all the world shall call their

Ara Maxima and honour with shine own special worship." Hercules grasped Evander's right hand and

said that he took the omen to himself and would fulfil the prophecy by building and consecrating the altar.

Then a heifer of conspicuous beauty was taken from the herd, and the first sacrifice was offered; the

Potitii and Pinarii, the two principal families in those parts, were invited by Hercules to assist in the

sacrifice and at the feast which followed. It so happened that the Potitii were present at the appointed

time, and the entrails were placed before them; the Pinarii arrived after these were consumed and came in

for the rest of the banquet. It became a permanent institution from that time, that as long as the family of

the Pinarii survived they should not eat of the entrails of the victims. The Potitii, after being instructed by

Evander, presided over that rite for many ages, until they handed over this ministerial office to public

servants after which the whole race of the Potitii perished. This out of all foreign rites, was the only one

which Romulus adopted, as though he felt that an immortality won through courage, of which this was the

memorial, would one day be his own reward.

474 Translation from Roberts 1912.

289

b) Livy on the Porta Carmentalis 2.48.8-50 - Tum Fabia gens senatum adiit. Consul pro gente loquitur:

"Adsiduo magis quam magno praesidio, ut scitis, patres conscripti, bellum Veiens eget. Vos alia bella

curate, Fabios hostes Veientibus date. Auctores sumus tutam ibi maiestatem Romani nominis fore.

Nostrum id nobis uelut familiare bellum priuato sumptu gerere in animo est; res publica et milite illic et

pecunia uacet."... Sex et trecenti milites, omnes patricii, omnes unius gentis, quorum neminem ducem

sperneret egregius quibuslibet temporibus senatus, ibant, unius familiae uiribus Veienti populo pestem

minitantes. Sequebantur turba propria alia cognatorum sodaliumque, nihil medium, nec spem nec curam,

sed immensa omnia uoluentium animo, alia publica sollicitudine excitata, fauore et admiratione stupens.

Ire fortes, ire felices iubent, inceptis euentus pares reddere; consulatus inde ac triumphos, omnia praemia

ab se, omnes honores sperare. Praetereuntibus Capitolium arcemque et alia templa, quidquid deorum

oculis, quidquid animo occurrit, precantur ut illud agmen faustum atque felix mittant, sospites breui in

patriam ad parentes restituant. In cassum missae preces. Infelici uia, dextro iano portae Carmentalis,

profecti ad Cremeram flumen perueniunt... [50]... Fabii caesi ad unum omnes praesidiumque expugnatum.

Trecentos sex perisse satis conuenit, unum prope impuberem aetatem relictum, stirpem genti Fabiae

dubiisque rebus populi Romani saepe domi bellique uel maximum futurum auxilium.

[48] Then the Fabian family approached the senate. The consul spoke on behalf of the family: “As you

know, conscript fathers, the Veian war needs assiduous rather than great defense. You all worry about

other wars, give a Fabian enemy to the Veii. We guarantee that the majesty of the Roman name will be

safe there. It is for us to take up this war in our mind as ours, as if a family war, at private cost; the

republic lacks both soldiery and money in that place.”…[49] 306 soldiers, all of them patricians, all of

one family, whose leader no one would refuse, an admirable senate in any time period, went forth,

threatening destruction to the Veian people with the strength of one family. Its own crowd followed, part

of them made up of family members and companions, considering nothing moderate in their minds,

neither hope nor care, but all immense things, another part made up of the public, stirred up by anxiety,

struck dumb by respect and admiration. They bid them to go bravely, to go blessedly, to render outcomes

equal to the beginnings; thence to hope for consulships and triumphs, all rewards, all honors from them.

As they passed the Capitole and the citadel and the other temples, whatever reaches the eyes of the gods,

whatever reaches their souls, they pray that they send that battle line out auspiciously and blessedly, and

restore them safe to their parents and their fatherland in a brief period of time. Their prayers were sent

into the void. Having set out on the unlucky road, the right-hand doorway of the porta Carmentalis, they

came to the river Cremera…[50]…All the Fabii were slain down to the man and their fort was taken. It it

agreed that three hundred and six men perished, and that one man was left nearly an adolescent in age,

offspring that would be the “Greatest” help to the Fabian gens and the dubious circumstances of the

Roman people often at home and in war.

5. Vergil Aeneid 8.333-341

‘me pulsum patria pelagique extrema sequentem

Fortuna omnipotens et ineluctabile fatum

his posuere locis, matrisque egere tremenda

Carmentis nymphae monita et deus auctor Apollo.’

Vix ea dicta, dehinc progressus monstrat et aram

et Carmentalem Romani nomine portam

quam memorant, nymphae priscum Carmentis honorem,

uatis fatidicae, cecinit quae prima futuros

Aeneadas magnos et nobile Pallanteum.

290

‘Omnipotent475 Fortune and inescapable fate put me in these places, expelled from my fatherland

and pursuing the ends of the sea, and the terrible warnings of my mother, the nymph Carmentis,

and the founder god Apollo, drove me.’ These things had just been said, when having progressed

from this place he shows both the altar and the gate which the Romans call “Carmental” by name,

an ancient honor to the nymph Carmentis, the fate-saying priestess, who was the first to sing of

the great descendants of Aeneas to come and of noble Pallanteum.

6. Solinus, Collectanea Rerum Memorabilium I.10-13

suo quoque numini idem Hercules instituit aram, quae maxima apud pontifices habetur, cum se ex

Nicostrate, Evandri matre, quae a vaticinio Carmentis dicta est, inmortalem conperisset…pars etiam

infima Capitolini montis habitaculum Carmentae fuit, ubi Carmentis nunc fanum est, a qua Carmentali

portae nomen datum. Palatium nemo dubitaverit quin Arcadas habeat auctores, a quibus primum

Pallanteum oppidum conditum...

The476 same Hercules also instituted an altar to his own divinity, which is considered the “greatest” (the

Ara Maxima) among the priests, after he had discovered that he was immortal from Nicostrate, Evander’s

mother, who is called Carmentis because of her prophecy-singing...also the lowest part of the Capitoline

hill was the dwelling-place of Carmenta, where now there is a shrine of Carmenta, from whom the name

is given to the Carmental gate. No one doubts that the Palatine has Arcadian founders, by whom the town

“Pallanteum” was first founded...

7. Plutarch

a. Roman Questions 278 b-c

‘διὰ τί τὸ τῆς Καρμέντης ἱερὸν ἐξ ἀρχῆς δοκοῦσιν αἱ μητέρες ἱδρύσασθαι καὶ νῦν μάλιστα

σέβονται;᾽’ λέγεται γάρ τις λόγος, ὡς ἐκωλύθησαν ὑπὸ τῆς βουλῆς αἱ γυναῖκες ὀχήμασι χρῆσθαι

ζευκτοῖς: συνέθεντο οὖν ἀλλήλαις μὴ κυΐσκεσθαι μηδὲ τίκτειν, ἀμυνόμεναι τοὺς ἄνδρας, ἄχρι οὗ

μετέγνωσαν καὶ συνεχώρησαν αὐταῖς: γενομένων δὲ παίδων, εὐτεκνοῦσαι καὶ πολυτεκνοῦσαι τὸ τῆς

Καρμέντης ἱερὸν ἱδρύσαντο. τὴν δὲ, Καρμένταν οἱ μὲν Εὐάνδρου μητέρα λέγουσιν οὖσαν ἐλθεῖν εἰς

Ἰταλίαν ὀνομαζομένην Θέμιν, ὡς δ᾽ ἔνιοι, Νικοστράτην ἐμμέτρους δὲ χρησμοὺς ᾁδουσαν ὑπὸ τῶν

Λατίνων Καρμένταν ὀνομάζεσθαι: τὰ γὰρ ἔπη ‘κάρμινα’ καλοῦσιν. οἱ δὲ Μοῖραν ἡγοῦνται τὴν

Καρμένταν εἶναι καὶ διὰ τοῦτο θύειν αὐτῇ τὰς μητέρας. ἔστι δὲ τοῦ ὀνόματος τὸ ἔτυμον ‘ἑστερημένη νοῦ’

διὰ τὰς θεοφορήσεις. ὅθεν οὐ τὰ κάρμινα τῇ Καρμέντῃ τοὔνομα παρέσχεν, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον ἀπ᾽ ἐκείνης

ἐκλήθη διὰ τὸ τοὺς χρησμοὺς ἐν ἔπεσι καὶ μέτροις ἐνθουσιῶσαν ᾁδειν.

Why are the matrons considered to have founded the temple of Carmenta in the beginning and

why do they particularly honor it now? A certain story is told, that the women were hindered by the

Senate from using yoked vehicles: therefore they conspired with each other not to get pregnant nor to

bear, taking their revenge on the men, until they changed their minds and agreed with them: and when the

children were born, the women, having borne many children well, founded the temple of Carmenta. And

some say that Carmenta, being the mother of Evander, came into Italy, being named Themis, and as

others say, Nikostrate, and she was called Carmenta by the Latins because she sang prophecies in meter:

for they call verses carmina. But others say that Carmenta is a Fate (Moira), and for this reason the

matrons sacrifice to her. But the truth of the name (the etymology) is “bereft of mind” because of her

475 Translation mine.

476 Translation mine.

291

possession by the god. Wherefore carmina did not provide the name for Carmenta, but rather they are

called thus from her, because, when she was inspired, she sang prophecies in verse and in meter.

b. Plutarch, Romulus 21.1-2

μῆνας μὲν οὖν οἱ Σαβῖνοι τοὺς Ῥωμαίων ἐδέξαντο, καὶ περὶ αὐτῶν ὅσα καλῶς εἶχεν, ἐν τῷ Νομᾶ

βίῳγέγραπται: θυρεοῖς δὲ τοῖς ἐκείνων ὁ Ῥωμύλοςἐχρήσατο, καὶ μετέβαλε τὸν ὁπλισμὸν ἑαυτοῦ τε καὶ

τῶνῬωμαίων, Ἀργολικὰς πρότερον ἀσπίδας φορούντων. ἑορτῶν δὲ καὶ θυσιῶν ἀλλήλοις μετεῖχον, ἃς μὲν

ἦγε τὰγένη πρότερον οὐκ ἀνελόντες, ἑτέρας δὲ θέμενοι καινάς, ὧν ἥ τε τῶν Ματρωναλίων ἐστί, δοθεῖσα

ταῖς γυναιξὶνἐπὶ τῇ τοῦ πολέμου καταλύσει, καὶ ἡ τῶν Καρμενταλίων. τὴν δὲ Καρμένταν οἴονταί τινες

Μοῖραν εἶναι κυρίανἀνθρώπων γενέσεως:διὸ καὶ τιμῶσιν αὐτὴν αἱ μητέρες: οἱ δὲ τὴν [τοῦ] Εὐάνδρου τοῦ

Ἀρκάδος γυναῖκα, μαντικήν τινα καὶ φοιβαστικὴν ἐμμέτρων χρησμῶν γενομένην, Καρμένταν

ἐπονομασθῆναι (τὰ γὰρ ἔπη κάρμενακαλοῦσι): Νικοστράτη1 δ᾽ ἦν ὄνομα κύριον αὐτῇ. καὶτοῦτο μὲν

ὁμολογεῖται:τὴν δὲ Καρμένταν ἔνιοι πιθανώτερον ἀφερμηνεύουσιν οἷον ἐστερημένην νοῦ διὰ τὰςἐν τοῖς

ἐνθουσιασμοῖς παραφροσύνας. τὸ μὲν γὰρ στέρεσθαι καρῆρε, μέντεμ δὲ τὸν νοῦν ὀνομάζουσι.

The477 Sabines, then, adopted the Roman months, about which I have written sufficiently in my Life of

Numa. Romulus, on the other hand, made use of their oblong shields, and changed his own armour and

that of the Romans, who before that carried round shields of the Argive pattern. Feasts and sacrifices they

shared with one another, not discarding any which the two peoples had observed before, but instituting

other new ones. One of these is the Matronalia, which was bestowed upon the women to commemorate

their putting a stop to the war; and another is the Carmentalia. This Carmenta is thought by some to be a

Fate presiding over human birth, and for this reason she is honoured by mothers. Others, however, say

that the wife of Evander the Arcadian, who was a prophetess and inspired to utter oracles in verse, was

therefore surnamed Carmenta, since ‘carmina’ is their word for verses, her own proper name being

Nicostrate. As to her own name there is general agreement, but some more probably interpret Carmenta as

meaning bereft of mind, because of her ecstasies under inspiration, since ‘carere’ is the Roman word for

to be bereft, and ‘mens’ for mind.

8. Aug. Civ.D. 4.11: in deabus illis quae fata nascentibus canunt et vocantur Carmentes

…in those goddesses who sing the fates to those being born and are called “Carmentes”…

9. Isidore of Seville 1.4.1: Latinas litteras Carmentis nympha prima Italis tradidit. Carmentis

autem dicta, quia carminibus futura canebat. Ceterum proprie uocata [est] Nicostrate.

The nymph Carmentis first taught Latin letters to the Italians. Moreover she is called Carmentis,

because she used to sing the future in verse. But properly she was called Nicostrate.

5.39.11 – Carmentis Latinas litteras repperit.

Carmentis invented Latin letters.

477 Translation Perrin 1914.

292

10. Hyginus Fabulae 277

CCLXXVII. 1. RERVM INVENTORES PRIMI Parcae, Clotho Lachesis Atropos, inuenerunt litteras

Graecas septem, Α Β Η Τ Ι Υ <--->; alii dicunt Mercurium ex gruum uolatu, quae cum uolant litteras

exprimunt; Palamedes autem Nauplii filius inuenit aeque litteras undecim <--->, Simonides litteras aeque

quattuor, Ω Ε Ζ Φ, Epicharmus Siculus litteras duas, 2 Π et Ψ. has autem Graecas Mercurius in

Aegyptum primus detulisse dicitur, ex Aegypto Cadmus in Graeciam, quas Euandrus profugus ex Arcadia

in Italiam transtulit, quas mater eius Carmenta in Latinas commutauit numero XV.

The Parcae, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos invented seven Greek letters - A B H T I Y.

Others say that Mercury invented them from the flight of cranes, which, when they fly, form letters.

Palamedes, too, son of Nauplius, invented eleven letters; Simonides, too, invented four letters – Ó E Z

PH; Epicharmus of Sicily, two - P and PS. The Greek letters Mercury is said to have brought to Egypt,

and from Egypt Cadmus took them to Greece. Cadmus in exile from Arcadia, took them to Italy, and his

mother Carmenta changed them to Latin to the number of 15.

11. Varro in Aulus Gellius 16.16.4

“Quando igitur,” [Varro] inquit, “contra naturam forte conversi in pedes, brachiis plerumque diductis,

retineri solent, aegriusque tunc mulieres enituntur, huius periculi deprecandi gratia arae statutae sunt

Romae duabus Carmentibus, quarum altera 'Postverta' cognominatast, ' Prorsa' altera, a recti perversique

partus et potestate et nomine.”

“Accordingly,”478 Varro says, “when they were by chance turned upon their feet against nature, since

their arms are usually extended, they tend to be held back, and then women give birth with greater

difficulty. For the purpose of averting this danger altars were set up at Rome to the two Carmentes, of

whom one was called Postverta, the other Prorsa, from both their power over and their name from natural

and unnatural births.”

478 Translation mine.

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IMAGES

Image 1 – Early example of the wolf and twins on Republican coin. RRC 39 – wolf and

twins/eagle, from 217-215 BCE. Image from wildwinds.com.

Image 2 – RRC 287 – Roma on obverse, Roma on reverse with wolf and twins at her feet. From

115/114 BCE. Image courtesy of forumancientcoins.com.

294

Image 3 – The “Tellus” panel of the Ara Pacis Augustae. Image from Zanker 1988.

Image 4 – Depiction of the Temple of Quirinus pediment. Romulus and Remus taking the

auguries. Image from Evans 1992.

295

Image 5 – RRC 334/1a – coin of Titurius Sabinus depicting the rape of the Sabine women on the

reverse, ca. 89 BCE. Image from forumancientcoins.com.

Image 6 – Frieze depicting the rape of the Sabines from the Basilica Aemilia. Image from Evans

1992.

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Image 7 – Maps that locate the Porta Carmentalis and the Forum Boarium. From Littlewood

2006.