In Virgil's third eclogue, the goatherd Menalcas responds to his challenger Damoetas by offering as his wager in their contest of song a pair of embossed cups, caelatum diuini opus Alcimedontis (Ecl. 3.37), decorated with a pattern of vine and ivy. In the middle of this design, he says, are two figures. One is the astronomer Conon, and the other—at this point Menalcas, afflicted with a sudden loss of memory, professes to have forgotten the name of the second figure, and breaks off into a question (Ecl. 3.40-2): quis fuit alter, | descripsit radio totum qui gentibus orbem, | tempora quae messor, quae curuus arator haberet? Various candidates for the identity of this second astronomer have been suggested,Footnote 1 one of the most favoured being Eudoxus of Cnidus, whose Phaenomena had been versified by the Hellenistic poet Aratus. In 1930 it was proposed by Léon Herrmann that Menalcas in fact answers his own question in his reference to curuUS ARATor at Ecl. 3.42: the solution to Virgil's riddle is already written into the question, in the form of the anagram of Aratus concealed within these two words.Footnote 2 Strictly speaking, Hermann notes only that ‘Arator au v. 42 évoque le nom d’Aratos’; he and later exponents of the theory tend to ignore the preceding ‘-us’—but there seems no reason to exclude it if an allusion to the Greek poet is to be seen in the two following syllables.
Although this solution has been accepted by a number of scholars since Herrmann,Footnote 3 the theory receives little attention in the standard commentaries on the Eclogues,Footnote 4 no doubt because there remains room for dispute over the identity of the anonymous figure on Menalcas’ cup. The purpose of this note is to suggest the presence of a comparable technique in two passages in Valerius Flaccus’ Argonautica where there has never been any dispute over the referent of the lines in question; once again, however, the answer to a speaker's question might be seen to be insinuated by an anagrammatic formula in the wording of the question itself. At Argonautica 1.224-6, the seer Mopsus, in a moment of foreboding, looks ahead to the tragic outcome of the Argonauts’ quest, events beyond the chronological scope of Valerius’ epic but well known to his readers from other literary sources—most famously Euripides’ Medea and Seneca's play of the same name:Footnote 5
Despite the anonymity of the subject of these lines, no reader of the Argonautica can have failed to realize that the vision constitutes a prophecy of Medea's infanticide in response to her betrayal by Jason. The story was sufficiently familiar to a literate audience that perhaps no further indication of the identity of the dragon-borne murderess caede madens was needed. It might also be argued that we should be wary of placing too much emphasis on the description, since Valerius uses the expression caede madens no fewer than four times in the course of his epic (in addition to this passage, see 2.274-5, caede madentem … domum; 5.454 [see below]; 6.415, currus caede madens).Footnote 6 The origin of the phrase, as commentators have pointed out, is Ovid's description of the brutal Age of Iron, when the virgin Astraea, goddess of Justice, finally abandoned caede madentis … terras (Met. 1.149-50).Footnote 7 Given the lapsarian associations of the voyage of Argo, often seen in antiquity as marking the end of the Golden Age,Footnote 8 this repetition of an expression from Ovid's account of epochal degeneration fits well with the overriding theme of Valerius’ poem.
It is striking, however, that on two of the four occasions on which Valerius uses this phrase, it is employed with reference to the same unnamed figure. At Argonautica 5.451-4, the poet takes advantage of another context of prophecy to adumbrate the gruesome consequences of Jason's venture. The second of the two doors of the temple of Sol displays future events at Colchis, as depicted by the workmanship of Vulcan, who as a divine craftsman possesses foreknowledge of developments outside the frame of Valerius’ narrative: note praesaga … arte (5.433) and compare the divine foreknowledge exhibited by Vulcan, haud uatum ignarus uenturique inscius aeui, in the ecphrastic model at Virgil, Aen. 8.627 (Argonautica 5.451-4):Footnote 9
Lines 453–4, which gain emphasis from being the conclusion of Valerius’ ecphrastic description, closely reproduce the phrasing of 1.224-5, quoted above.Footnote 10 In both cases the subject of the ominous prognostications is the same, and in both instances the audience is left to supply a name for that individual: Medea. In view of this, I cannot resist pointing out that Medea's name is actually present in both passages, reversed, in the formula cAEDE Madens. As in the Virgilian lines with which we began, the answer to the riddle—or, in these cases, the precise point of reference of the prophecy—is thus immanent in the words in which that enigma is couched. Whatever claims might be advanced for the performative context of the recitatio, on some level Latin poetry was written to be read,Footnote 11 and in an original text without word division and presented in uniform capitals, the anagram might have been more noticeable than in a modern printed edition where the letter m is separated from the preceding characters.
Such a suggestion is in keeping with the oracular nature of the passages in question, both of which present an (at least superficially) opaque forecast of the future by a figure with vatic powers.Footnote 12 Acceptance of this somewhat tentative proposal is not necessary for a recognition of the dramatic irony in both passages—unlike Mopsus and the recipients of his prophecy, and the viewers of Vulcan's artwork (nondum noscentibus, 5.452), the reader knows precisely what is being foretold, and is fully aware of the identity of the unnamed female perpetrator of these later horrors.Footnote 13 None the less, I think it adds something to that dramatic irony that confirmation of this identity can be found in the very wording of the seemingly cryptic lines in which the name is ostensibly occluded.
Meanwhile, like the late Don Fowler, but perhaps with more reason, I await the arrival of the men in white coats …Footnote 14