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I examine a dialogue between the Renaissance Supplements to Virgil’s Aeneid by Pier Candido Decembrio and Maffeo Vegio. I argue that Decembrio’s short poem is not unfinished but instead provides the Iliadic ending to the Aeneid that Virgil withholds, namely a lament over Turnus’s body to match the lament over Hector at the end of Iliad 24. I then argue that Decembrio’s poem presents us with a dangerously unstable situation in Italy, dominated by commemorations of Turnus in such heroic terms that they threaten to displace Virgil’s hero Aeneas from primacy in his own story. Vegio’s response “corrects” this portrayal of Turnus in favour of a more orthodox Virgilian narrative in which Turnus is a tragically misguided enemy of Aeneas’s divine mission to Italy. I conclude with a new edition and translation of Decembrio’s Supplement, drawing on both of the extant manuscripts and addressing several textual difficulties., Nous examinons un dialogue entre les Suppléments à l’Énéide de Virgile composés par Pier Candido Decembrio et par Maffeo Vegio. Nous avançons que le bref poème de Decembrio n’est pas inachevé, mais qu’il fournit plutôt la fin iliadique à l’Énéide retenue par Virgile, à savoir une complainte sur le corps de Turnus qui correspond à la complainte sur Hector à la fin du chant 24 de l’Iliade. Nous suggérons ensuite que le poème de Decembrio met en scène une situation dangereusement instable en Italie, dominée par les commémorations de Turnus en des termes si héroïques qu’elles menacent de destituer le héros virgilien, Énée, de sa primauté dans son propre récit. La réponse de Vegio « corrige » ce portrait de Turnus en faveur d’un récit virgilien plus orthodoxe dans lequel Turnus, tragiquement dans l’erreur, est un ennemi de la mission divine d’Énée en Italie. Nous concluons en proposant une nouvelle édition et traduction du Supplément de Decembrio, en nous appuyant sur les deux manuscrits existants et en abordant plusieurs difficultés textuelles.

This article investigates Irene Vallejo's 2015 novel El silbido del arquero, a narrative in the Virgilian tradition mostly inspired by Book IV of the Aeneid. We show how Vallejo reinterprets Dido and Aeneas's tragic love story by foregrounding minor characters, developing the setting, integrating popular subgenres and exploring communicative anxieties and gender issues. It is argued that patterns of dissatisfaction, self-delusion and disillusionment with human affairs ultimately collide with a message of hope voiced by the fictionalised Virgil., Universidad Pablo de Olavide

In this paper I analyze some principles (and their practice) that guide the Portuguese translator Lima Leitão, who translated all works of Vergil before the publication of the famous Virgilio Brasileiro (1858) by the Brazilian Manuel Odorico Mendes. In order to illustrate Leitão’s general practice, I focus on a passage of his translation of the Aeneid, whose edition goes back to 1819, before the first edition of Mendes’ Eneida Brasileira (1854). I analyze briefly, in the translation of the Laocoon episode, Lima Leitão’s vocabulary and the way he deals with the sounds and the expressive word-order of the original. As both translations mentioned have much in common, I compare them occasionally, by pointing out similitudes and differences between them. As final thoughts, I express the hope that Vergil’s translations by Lima Leitão may receive the same critical and editorial attention that Mendes’s ones have received in recent times.

In his treatise The Exposition of the Content of Virgil according to Moral Philosophy, Fabius Fulgentius allegorically interpreted the contents of Virgil's epic the Aeneid. The aim of our paper is to explain the main principles of Fulgentius' allegorization by analysing the first verse of Virgil's Aeneid. In Fulgentius' view, the 12 books of the epic depicted the three main stages of a human life as they follow the “natural order”: childhood, adolescence and adulthood. In his prologue (Fulg. Cont. 87. 4–6; 87. 11–89. 3; 89. 19–90. 17), the author supports his claim by presenting an allegorical interpretation of the first line of Virgil's epic (Verg. A. 1. 1), which contains three famous words: arma (“arms”), vir (“man”) and primus (“first”). According to Fulgentius, the first term arma (“arms”) represents virtus (“manliness”) in the sense of characteristics that are available to all human individuals during childhood. The second term vir (“man”) refers to sapientia (“wisdom”), which is related to the development of the ingenium (“mind”) during adolescence. The third term primus (“first”) symbolises the adult ability ornare (“to ornament”) what we have learnt in the first phases of our life. With life experience in childhood and adolescence, a person can gradually become princeps (“a ruler”). In other words, they can be “first” within a given society and thus conclude their personal development towards perfection. As such, the contents of Virgil's Aeneid correspond to these three terms: Books 1–3 to childhood, Books 4–6 to adolescence, and Books 7–12 to adulthood.

Since a problematic passage in Virgil's Aeneid (10.366–7) shows the same influence of Sallust (Cat. 58–60) as do the dozen lines preceding and following, it should not be deleted, as has been suggested.

One of the less appreciated literary influences on the Virgilian depiction of Aeneas' decision to slay Turnus at the end of the Aeneid is the first battle supplication scene in Homer's Iliad, the encounter of Adrestus with Menelaus and Agamemnon. Close consideration of Virgil's response to the Homeric scene sheds light on the poet's concerns in his presentation of the choice his Trojan hero Aeneas confronts in light of Turnus' appeal. Acrostics at the end of the Aeneid invite further reflection.

This article puts the spotlight upon the neglected 1632 translation of the entire Aeneid by the poet, puritan, and parliamentarian John Vicars, which, as the first complete translation of the Aeneid by an Englishman, should be more prominent in literary history. The article’s central argument is that the neglect of Vicars’ translation was, both at the time and thereafter, a manifestation of the class warfare that has long pervaded English society. This argument complements the view expressed by other scholars that the dismissal of Vicars was grounded in his radical puritanism and anti-Catholicism. The article analyses the paratextual materials that introduce the translation, including the dedicatory epistle, the address to the reader, and the poems of endorsement, as well as the poem itself, for signs of class struggle. By offering a close textual analysis, it argues that it is far from obvious that the quality of Vicars’ version is inferior. It concludes that the patent early hostility towards Vicars is more closely related to the person of the translator than the qualities of the translation; specifically, it attributes the failure of Vicars’ translation to dislike for the translator’s extremely humble origins, alongside his unfashionable religious and political views.

The translation of the Aeneid by a leading Symbolist poet Valerii Briusov, on which he worked most of his life, failed to gain favor with Russian readers because of its literalism. Combining various theoretical approaches with a close analysis of the text this essay explores why Briusov’s translation failed in the context of the cultural and aesthetic demands of the era in which it was composed.

A major aspect of Fascist manipulation of classical culture is the tendentious practice of translating texts in order to emphasize the points apparently consistent with the regime’s ideology: this process goes so far as to distort the meaning of the texts, which are used as means of political propaganda. This happened to the Aeneid, the most translated and probably the most misinterpreted poem in Italy during the Fascist period. I outline an overview of the translations made by Giuseppe Albini (1921), Francesco Vivona (1926), Giuseppe Lipparini (1928), Emilio Pratellesi (1930), and Guido Vitali (1930). I describe and illustrate with some examples the criteria followed by each author, with respect to lexical choice, sentence structure, and stylistic devices. Thus, I show how these translations (with the sole exception of that by Albini) are enslaved to their political purpose and betray the deep and complex message of the poem.

The composition of translations of Classical texts in the nineteenth-century Greek state was a complex issue entwined with politics, ideology, and the cultural identity of the new nation that sought to construct its identity by looking back towards its glorious Classical Greek past. It is, moreover, an issue tied to the so-called ‘language question’, the ardent debate on the type of the national Greek language (archaizing Greek, katharevousa, or demotiki). The intellectual elite of the new nation-state, led by the professoriate of the newly founded Ottonian University and a number of influential Greek intellectuals of the Diaspora tried to acquaint the newly-liberated Greeks with the classical writers of antiquity primarily through education. Since these elites favoured the katharevousa, a conservative construct of the spoken Greek language fashioned as a compromise between Classical Greek and the spoken vernacular of the time, the produced translations of the ancient authors had limited appeal across time, and they never aspired to address an audience beyond academia. Thus, all translations of the Aeneid published in Greece during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were literary failures. They were never meant to be read independently from the original Latin, and, inevitably, were largely forgotten following the death of their authors.

This paper presents a translation of the beginning of Aeneid's Book IV along with notes and comments. In the excerpt, Dido tells her sister that she fell in love with Aeneas, and Anna encourages her into a marriage bond with the Trojan hero. The translation follows a metric parameter of proportionality that was adopted for the transposition of the hexameters into decasyllables.

The first complete translation of Vergil’s Aeneid into Turkish was published in 1935–36, during the first decades of the Turkish Republic. The translator Ahmed Reşid (1870–1955) was an intellectual and statesman who not only witnessed but also played active roles in arguably the most radical sociocultural turn in the country’s long history. As Reşid did not know Latin, he used an intermediary French translation as his source text. If this alone might seem from a normative viewpoint an obstacle to success, a broader perspective that considers various approaches in current translation criticism reveals a more complete and nuanced image of Reşid's translation project. My aim here is to contextualize historically and to critically discuss this carefully made but too soon forgotten Vergil translation, by using a case-specific plurality of methods. I argue that Antoine Berman's hermeneutical model is especially useful for studies on classical reception including Vergil translations.

The paper presents fresh reflections on the role played by Etruscans and Trojans in the dramaturgy of Virgil’s Aeneid, seeking to define the civilisational values common to the two peoples – the peoples that were to form the foundations of a nascent Roman Empire both in Augustus’ political programme and in Virgil’s literary concept. Foregrounded is the thesis that Virgil’s conception and structure of the Aeneid juxtapose the historical fate of the Etruscans with the myth of the Trojans: both peoples are the bearers of new civilisational values, which are manifested in military fortitudo, in the monarchic constitution of the empire, and in religious pietas.

Throughout Vergil’s Aeneid, non-Olympian gods, acting on behalf of Olympian gods, attempt to persuade mortals to undertake various destructive actions. Apart from Juturna (Book 12), non-Olympian gods such as Iris (Book 5), Somnus (Book 5), and Allecto (Book 7) are unable to persuade their audience with words alone and resort to their irresistible divine appearance or abilities to achieve their ends. Although these speeches rarely attract critical attention in their own right, we can be certain that Vergil complicates these episodes to convey information not only about the nature of the non-Olympian gods (and their relationship to mortals) but also about the character of the resisting mortals. In particular, I will demonstrate that Juturna is able to persuade the Rutulians to break the truce with the Trojans in Book 12 because she—both as a recent mortal and sister of Turnus—understands human behaviour, whereas the other non-Olympians fail precisely because their speeches do not reflect a true understanding of their audience’s humanity.

Wordsworth's translation of Virgil's Aeneid I–III has been largely neglected by Romanticists and classical reception scholars, in part because it is considered to be an unfinished, failed artistic project. Amongst a handful of scholars, Bruce Graver has convincingly demonstrated the originality of Wordsworth's Latin translation. This article goes further to suggest the artistic coherence of Wordsworth's translation of Virgil . Aeneid I–III trace the arc of Aeneas's fall and exile from Troy and discovery of a new home. In translating Aeneas's journey, Wordsworth enacts a quest for a new poetic voice, at a time when his creative powers as an English poet were at a low ebb. His engagement with Virgil's Latin can be compared to his encounters with Nature and the River Derwent in earlier poetry; in both cases, the poet plays host to an alienatingly other, divine maternal presence which eventually rejuvenates and confirms the poet's voice in English.

In ancient literature and religion, Hercules—in common with many other deities—is frequently associated with particular trees or types of tree. There are tales connecting him with the wild olive, laurel and oak, but his most prominent and frequent arboreal link is with the poplar (populus Alcidae gratissima, ‘the poplar is most delightful to Hercules’, Verg. Ecl. 7.61), an association mentioned twice in the Hercules-heavy first half of Aeneid Book 8 (276, 286). The festival of Hercules celebrated by Evander and his people takes place just outside the city within a ‘great grove’ (Aen. 8.103–4) of unspecified species, in an area surrounded by less defined expanses of trees. Trees crowd the banks of the Tiber, leaning out for wonder as Aeneas’ fleet passes by (Aen. 8.91–2) and soon uariisque teguntur | arboribus, uiridisque secant placido aequore siluas (‘[the Trojans] are covered by different trees and cut their way through green woods on the calm water’, Aen. 8.95–6); looking up through the sacrificial smoke on the altars, Pallas and his friends are initially frightened ut celsas uidere rates atque inter opacum | adlabi nemus (‘as they saw the tall ships glide towards them through the dark grove’, Aen. 8.107–8). When Evander later shows Aeneas around, the emphasis on trees recurs, with the huge grove destined to become Romulus’ Asylum (Aen. 8.342), and the bramble- and god-haunted woods of the Capitol (Aen. 8.347–54). Later, Aeneas and his men camp in a vast grove of Silvanus, as Venus approaches to bring her son his new shield (Aen. 8.597–607).

In Vergil’s Aeneid the problematics of remembering and forgetting emerge as an issue of essential importance: the Trojans – somewhat paradoxically – have to bring about both of them in order to be able to found a new native land in Italy. The matter in question emphatically occurs in two speeches of fathers given to their sons in the epic: in that of the shade of Anchises given to Aeneas in Book 5 and in that of Aeneas given to Ascanius in Book 12. These passages both recall the speech of Aegeus to Theseus in Catullus 64, in which the father aims to ‘program’ his son’s mind to remember his instructions. It will be of fundamental importance to observe the way the Catullan text presenting the failure of this kind of ‘mnemotechnical’ remembering encodes forgetting into the Vergilian passages mentioned above, by means of intertextual connections.

In Germany Virgil’s work had long been considered a fake re-interpretation of Greek models, lacking originality and life: Virgil himself was seen as a mere servant of power. This essay explores how Borchardt sought to undermine the accepted interpretation of the author of the Aeneid. It will show that while reinterpreting Virgil’s legacy, Borchardt set out a completely new vision of his work and how this vision differs from the fascist exaltation of Virgil. It will focus on Borchardt’s inference that the Aeneid is at the same time a message from the past and a message of hope for the future. It discusses to what extent examining the present through Virgil’s work, he endeavours to escape the disruptive power of the crisis of the 1930s. Finally, it will expose how the author finds an emblematic alter-ego in the character of the exiled Aeneas., LEA - Lingue e Letterature d'Oriente e d'Occidente, Vol 7 (2018)

The fifth scene represented on the Shield of Aeneas describes Porsenna's siege of Rome and the resistance of the Romans, with the two classic exempla of Horatius Cocles and Cloelia (Verg. Aen. 8.646–51):nec non Tarquinium eiectum Porsenna iubebataccipere ingentique urbem obsidione premebat;Aeneadae in ferrum pro libertate ruebant.illum indignanti similem similemque minantiaspiceres, pontem auderet quia uellere Cocles 650et fluuium uinclis innaret Cloelia ruptis.According to Roman mainstream tradition, at the beginning of the Republic, Porsenna, an Etruscan king of Clusium, tried to reinstate the exiled Tarquinius Superbus by besieging Rome, but the heroism of Romans such as Horatius Cocles, C. Mucius Scaevola and Cloelia impressed him so much that he decided to give up the siege and make peace with his enemies. He then sent his army against the Latins and was finally defeated at the battle of Aricia by the joint forces of the Latin League and their allies from Cumae. However, there circulated also less flattering versions of the story: Tacitus (Hist. 3.72, Porsenna dedita urbe) hints at the fact that the Romans had in fact surrendered to Porsenna, and Pliny refers to a humiliating treaty imposed on them by the Etruscan king (HN 34.139).

A scene in the Bayeux Tapestry (c. 1072–7 ce) shows Earl Harold ‘Godwinson’ of Wessex (c. 1022–66), future king of the English (r. 1066), rescuing two Normans from drowning in the quicksand of the River Couesnon as they cross into Brittany on military campaign (see figure 1; Bayeux Tapestry Scene 17). Harold (Bayeux Tapestry Figure 152) is depicted standing more or less upright, upon embroidered lines that represent the waters of the Couesnon. As is typical for the representation of Anglo-Saxons in this, the earlier part of the embroidery, he has a ‘pudding-bowl’ haircut and is moustached. These features distinguish Harold from the Normans he saves, who have the backs of their heads shaven and are without facial hair. Harold carries one of the men ‘piggyback’ and drags the other, who has almost fallen on his back, up by his right hand. The Latin inscription above this scene is brief, but nonetheless tells us most of what we need to know to understand the imagery beneath: hIC VVILLEM DVX ET EXERCITVS EIVS VENERVNT AD MONTE[M] MIChAELIS ET hIC TRANSIERVNT FLVMEN COSNONIS. hIC hARLOLD DVX TRAhEBAT EOS DE ARENA (‘Here Duke William and his army came to Mont St Michel, and here they crossed the River Couesnon. Here Duke Harold pulled them out of the sand’).

This article offers a thorough study of Virgil's interaction with the myth of Eteocles and Polynices' war for the throne of Thebes, as represented especially in Athenian tragedy. It demonstrates that allusions to the Theban myth are crucial to the Aeneid's construction of a set of tensions and oppositions that play an important role in Virgil's reflection on the historical experience of Rome, especially in connection with the transition from Republic to Empire. In particular, interaction with Theban stories allows Virgil to explore: (1) the dichotomy between similarity and foreignness in the depiction of Rome's enemies; (2) the tension in differing attitudes towards the state as reflected in antithetical character types—namely, the selfless youth who sacrifices himself for the community and the would-be tyrant prepared to go to any lengths to achieve sole power; and, finally, (3) the dichotomy between opposing notions of time defined by teleology, on the one hand, and circularity and repetition on the other, the two representing the differing temporalities of epic and tragedy, respectively.

Very shortly before the end of Book 11 of the Aeneid, Turnus, hearing of Camilla's death, is forced to abandon his ambush in order to fall back to the city. Just after he leaves the wooded gorge, Aeneas passes through it unscathed with his company. Both then head toward the city walls. Virgil marks this near miss of the two commanders by an acrostic (Aen. 11.901–7):ille furens (et saeua Iouis sic numina pellunt)deserit obsessos collis, nemora aspera linquit.uix e conspectu exierat campumque tenebat,cum pater Aeneas saltus ingressus apertosexsuperatque iugum siluaque euadit opaca.sic ambo ad muros rapidi totoque ferunturagmine nec longis inter se passibus absunt.

In this paper, I argue that a series of parallels make the Aeneid a compelling intertext for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (DH). My goal is not only to identify possible sources or parallels for Rowling’s work but also, and more importantly, to argue that only through reading the DH through the lens of the Aeneid can we appreciate the series as an ideological, foundational narrative. By the term foundational, I refer to the series’ ambitious agenda to present Harry’s victory as the dawing of a new world, governed by the principles of tolerance, democracy, and cooperation. The underwrold journey or katabasis motif is de ployed in several episodes of the DH , each of which can be linked to the Aeneid , and each presenting a new stage in Harry’s realization of the magnitude of his mission. First, I examine Harry’s visit to Godric’s Hollow side by side with Aeneas’ visit to Buthrotum as expressions of their inability to overcome their horrific past; next, I analyze Dobby’s death and burial as a pivotal moment for Harry’s journey toward leadership, reading it against the death an d burial of Aeneas’ comrade Misenus. Other katabasis elements deepen the connection between Vergil’s epic and the DH : the Golden Snitch and the Elder Wand can be seen as versions of the Golden Bough. Finally, I discuss Harry’s climactic encounter with Dumbledore in King’s Cross as a foil to Aeneas’ meeting with Anchises in Aeneid 6. My analysis helps us appreciate more fully how the modern novel combines ancient ideas on fatherhood, destiniy, and leadership, adapted to fit contemporary views regarding power, tolerance, and democracy.

This article examines an anomaly in Virgil’s Aeneid, book 2, and offers a possible solution based on the method known as geomythology. In this section of the poem, the narrator depicts the fatal stabbing of King Priam in front of his own altar, within the citadel of Troy, as the city is being burned by the Greeks. Immediately following this passage is a curious ‘epitaph’ for Priam, which notes that his body is huge, decapitated, and lying on a beach. Scholars have provided various explanations for this apparent discrepancy, with varying degrees of success. This article explores how a geomythological approach, focusing on the misidentification of the remains of a woolly mammoth, may resolve the issue.

In Aeneid 7, Latinus receives the Trojans in his curia, a building simultaneously described as tectum, regia, and templum in Vergil’s ekphrasis (7.170–91), which has complicated discussions concerning the building’s function and conception. Many studies have suggested that specific temples in Rome are the sole inspiration for Vergil. I argue, however, that the poet is more generally allusive, and I suggest below that the Roman curia, overlooked thus far in scholarship, also informs the poet’s ekphrasis, through an examination of the architectural and ideological features in Latinus’s curia. By projecting Roman architecture and monuments into the past, Vergil emphasizes that architecture comprises a significant part of the history and purpose of Rome.

Eneida de Virgilio construye un pasado legendario que le permite al romano comprender la composición multicultural de su propia sociedad, la pertenencia étnica de los diferentes grupos y su ascendencia y participación en la vida pública romana. A través de vectores etnográficos positivos y negativos se configura una memoria histórica que combina el pasado conocido con elementos legendarios. Virgilio determina el lugar de las etnias itálicas en el proceso histórico de conformación de Italia bajo el dominio de Roma y las reconoce en su presente; aquí subyace una mirada retrospectiva y un acto de memoria sobre el Bellum Sociale.Vergil's Aeneid built a legendary past that allows the Roman understanding of the multicultural composition of their own society, the ethnicity of the different groups and their ancestry and participation in public life in Rome. Through ethnographic positive and negative vectors set up a historical memory that combines the known past with legendary elements. Vergil determines the place of ethnic emphasis in the historical process of formation of Italy under Roman rule and recognized in the present, here lies a retrospect and an act of memory on the Bellum Sociale.

This article began as “From Caesar to Joan: Shaw's Epic Hero with a Dozen Faces.” Then the author decided to add another character: Bluntschli of Arms and the Man since Bluntschli was a version of Aeneas in the play the title of which was taken from the opening of Virgil's Aeneid. That Shaw had epic in mind is confirmed by this title and by his very apparent use of Virgilian echoes, especially in the first act. This early play provides a clear view of Shaw assembling the characteristics of an epic, while doing his educating variations, very craftily. This article treats Act I as the first stage, the Literal stage, of a four-stage approach that it takes from Dante's reading of scripture. At this time, it deals only with the first three stages. The article moves from the Literal How to the Why of the Tropecal (sic) level, then to the Moral level. (It leaves the fourth level, the Anagogical, for a later article.)

Since his translation of Aeschylus's Oresteia, produced at the National Theatre in 1981, Tony Harrison has been closely associated with ancient Greek literature, especially that of the dram...

In the fourth book of the Aeneid Virgil presents the epic's titular hero as fated to found Rome, initially neglecting and ultimately reassuming his mission, all the while being accorded praise or blame for his progress. In this article I shall re-examine Virgil's use of the specifically Chrysippan Stoic doctrine of Fate and human responsibility in Aeneid 4, with a focus on three key points: the role of assent in creating a compatibility of Fate and human responsibility; the ‘Lazy Argument’, the position that Chrysippus combatted, that if things are fated they will happen without any effort on my part; and the Stoic conception of Fate as a chain of causes that includes human assents. I shall argue that Virgil's impeccable, almost obsessive, scholarship results in a detailed homage to Chrysippan Stoic doctrine that actually alludes to its finer points. I restrict my comments to Book Four on the grounds that the Dido-episode tests to the limit Aeneas’ resolve to ‘follow … Italy’ (361), even if non sponte, and that the juxtaposition with Dido sheds added light on the picture. I hope thereby to contribute to a topic of research that deserves renewed investigation using the discoveries in Hellenistic philosophy over the last two generations.

In an analysis on the episode of Laocoon’s death, inserted into the account of the Trojan horse, in the Aeneid, we highlight certain meaning effects achieved from the use of some rhetorical figures. In the examples, hyperbaton, alliteration, assonance and anaphora give iconicity contour to the verses; and a rare simile is used as narrative sequence feature, with diegetic function. The simple use of these figures could not provide the text with such a high degree of expressiveness. This leads to a reflection upon the need to always take into account the interpenetration of the planes of language and the solidarity between content and expression as an index of literariness. To contextualize the episode, I offer a decasyllable translation of Virgil’s hexameters. This translation seeks to preserve the figures of speech used in Latin and the main meaning effects raised by them. Em uma análise do episódio da morte de Laocoonte, inserido no relato sobre o cavalo de Troia, na Eneida, destaco determinados efeitos de sentido, alcançados a partir do emprego de algumas figuras de retórica. Nos exemplos apresentados, hipérbato, aliteração, assonância e anáfora dão contorno de iconicidade aos versos e um raro símile é usado como recurso de sequência narrativa, com função diegética. O simples emprego de tais figuras não garantiria ao texto um grau de expressividade tão elevado. Isso induz a uma reflexão sobre a necessidade de levar sempre em conta a interpenetração dos planos da linguagem e a solidariedade entre o conteúdo e a expressão como índice de literariedade. Para contextualização do episódio, ofereço uma tradução decassilábica dos hexâmetros de Virgílio. Essa tradução procura preservar as figuras de linguagem empregadas em latim e os principais efeitos de sentido por elas suscitados.

William Wordsworth's attempt at translating Virgil's Aeneid reached as far as Book 4, and mostly survives in manuscript drafts. The literary influences behind it can be illuminated through the poet's correspondence, and analysed more fully by tracing verbal echoes and other resonances in his translation. Despite the hostility he expressed towards Dryden and Pope, the foremost translators of the previous age, Wordsworth followed them in using heroic couplets, and, as has previously been argued, his translation draws increasingly on Dryden's Aeneis the further he advanced with his project. But Wordsworth owes an equally large debt, hitherto unrecognized, to the eighteenth-century blank verse renderings by Joseph Trapp and others, who anticipated many of his supposed stylistic innovations.

The article offers information on the exegetical trends featured in the commentary edition of Virgil's poem "Aeneid" by Jacques Delille. The author mentions that the poem's commented edition successfully unites Delille's interpretive endeavour with his ambition in providing a paradigm to future poets and readers. He states that the commentary edition was considered as a subtle political reading of the poem that was situated in the early Napoleonic age.

This article analyses two early English translations of Virgil’s Aeneid: William Caxton’s Eneydos, published in 1490, and Gavin Douglas’s Eneados, completed in 1513 and published in London in 1553....

Starting from the well-known correspondence between Odes 1.7.30–31 and Aeneid 1.198–99, this article finds a deep intertextual relationship between 1.7 and the Aeneid (Book 1, especially, but also Books 4, 6, 7, and 8), anchored by correspondences of occasion and theme (speeches of arrival, dining, and wine). The article argues for Vergilian priority, explaining Horace’s (largely corrective) emulation of the Aeneid in terms of his literary self-positioning as lyric poet. Further confirmation of Horatian dialogue with the Aeneid is found elsewhere in the “Parade Odes” (1.1–9) as well as in 1.11 and 1.18.