R. Cormier

Foreign Languages

Wilson College

1015 Philadelphia Avenue

Chambersburg, PA  17201  USA

                                                                       

Sylvia's Tame Stag:

Classical Continuity, Transposition, and

Intertextuality in Two 12th Century Adaptations

of Virgil's Aeneid

            As if Virgil's Aeneid itself were a monumental "old Testament," and Ovid's opus a "new," there exists a fine example of how the aetasOvidiana manifested itself in the rise of mid-12th century French vernacular literature--appreciated best through a study of Virgil's great masterpiece in its full literary context.  The phenomenon may be observed specifically in the Old French Roman d'Eneas, a kind of imaginative synthesis and "transposition" of the Aeneid.  The trend away from classical authenticity continues as well in a closely-related text, Heinrich von Veldeke's subsequent German imitation, the Eneit (or Eneide, ca. 1170).  Under discussion here is an episode that involves an important political scene from the Seventh Aeneid, namely, the pathetic events which spark the outbreak of hostilities between the Trojan exiles and the indigenous Latin peoples.  While Livy's quasi-ontogenetic account differs from Virgil's essentially poetic version, for each author the mythical Trojan fugitives do eventually subjugate their rivals, the Latin natives, in order to take control of the Italian peninsula--and found there a new home, Troya nova.1


            We want to examine the reception of the Virgilian scenario as found in the two named vernacular adaptations--to appreciate better the ambiguity and discontinuity of Virgil's influence.  By appealing as well to the medieval author's creative re-concept- ualization of the Aeneid, the unmistakable influence of Ovid, and then to other, more contemporary voices (e.g., saints' lives, the courtly ethos), we hope to understand better how classical antiquity was, in part, transmitted and, in part, totally reinterpreted and reconstituted during the ebullient, innovative, and humanistic Renaissance of the twelfth century.2

* * *

            Virgil's sources for the scenario depicted it as an unfavorable act of Trojan aggression.  If history placed the fault with the foreign invaders, our poet presumably needed an "accident," as Heinze put it, to illustrate the angry events that follow the happy landing in Italy.3

            Macrobius remarks that since there was no real model to hand for the beginning of this war, Virgil was, in the words of Brooks Otis, at liberty "to employ the incongruous potpourri of motifs that we find: the tame stag and its sequel...[of] pathetic insignificance," [presenting a] theme of innocence perverted" (Otis 326 and n.).  Macrobius sneers "Cervum fortuito saucium


fecit causam tumultus, sed ubi vidit hoc leve nimisque puerile..." (Saturnalia 5.17, 1-4).

            We are referring in particular to the story of Sylvia's pet stag, captured at first as a fawn by the sons of Tyrrhus, then given to their sister, who rears the animal as a tamed pet (Aeneid VII. 475-571).  As Virgil relates its, the maiden, in spite of the stag's "wondrous beauty and mighty antlers" (VII. 487-89):

            adsuetum imperiis soror omni Siluia cura

            mollibus intexens ornabat cornua sertis,

            pectebatque ferum puroque in fonte lauabat.

Often associated with wild nature, this stag, however, is tame enough (we are told) to stray and roam about during the day, but, although not collared, still returns to Tyrrhus' dwelling on its own at night.  As St. Exupéry's Little Prince puts it, being tame intimates ties that bind. Moreover, in the background of this fascinating cervus episode there seems to be evoked a very ancient association with the legendary foundation of a new city.4

            In a masterful hunting scene filled with action and violence, the animal is unwittingly shot by Aeneas' son Ascanius:  "causa fuit belloque animos accendit agrestis" (VII. 482).  Wounded by this fateful arrow, the stag limps back home, bleating, bleeding, and pleading for help (VII. 500-502).  In Virgil's text, Ascanius' act, motivated by the gods, will inspire the Fury Allecto (at Juno's behest) to sweep through the


countryside, whipping the Latin women (particularly Amata, Lavinia's mother) into a Maenadic frenzy and exciting the men (especially Turnus) into a battle rage.  The mythological metaphor explains the context of how the war was precipitated between Turnus along with his Italian allies--symbolized by his near namesake Tyrrhus, and his sons) and the recently-arrived Trojans.

            Brooks Otis reminds us that Book 7 "...gives furor a social meaning and magnifies the threat to Aeneas into a general attack on the whole Trojan-Latin destiny..." (Otis 318).  Because of the breach of hospitality, the war becomes a civil one, a "social revolution and sedition," in which Allecto [as she affects Amata and Turnus] emblemizes "infernal vengeance and fratricidal hate" (Otis 322, 323, 325).

            In his exhaustive study of Roman cynegetica, Aymard considers the tripartite scene (the hunt, the stag, the kill) a precious, romantic idyll that nevertheless reflects, with great virtuosity, late Republican taste for pet animals and a realistic depiction of the Romans at hunt.5

            Be that as it may, there is one classical analogue that seems to be most appropriate for a medieval context, especially in view of the twelfth century "discovery" of Ovid as a representative of the up-to-date moderni (Virgil back with the old antiqui).  It is the story of Cyparissus, as described in Ovid's Metamorphoses (X. 109-142), which also tells of a stag


(ingens cervus erat...; cf. Virgil's cervus erat forma...), this one sacred to the nymphs dwelling in the fields of Carthaea--the sanctuary where Orpheus charmed the animals with his graceful singing.  Ovid describes a magnificent stag--

            ingens cervus erat, lateque patentibus altas

                        ipse suo capiti praebebat cornibus umbras.

                        cornua fulgebant auro, demissaque in armos

                        pendebant tereti gemmata monilia collo.

                        bulla super frontem parvis argentea loris

                        vincta movebatur parilique aetate:  nitebant

                        auribus e geminis circum cava tempora bacae;

                        isque metu vacuus naturalique pavore

                        deposito celebrare domos mulcendaque colla

                        quamlibet ignotis manibus praebere solebat.

                                                                                                            (X. 109-119)

            Sylvia's analogue in this episode is Cyparissus, a most comely boy of the Caens.  He used to lead the stag--

            ad nova, tu liquidi ducebas fontis ad undam,

                        tu modo texebas varios per cornua flores,

                        nunc eques in tergo residens huc laetus et illuc

                        mollia purpureis frenabas ora capistris. (X. 122-25)

            Cyparissus unwittingly hurled his javelin one summer day and mortally wounded the stag.  Inconsolate, he was allowed to mourn the lost stag forever--out of pity by Phoebus, who permitted the transformation into a grove of mourning and distress, the very


same grove where Orpheus, once Cyparissus' lover, sang his Jovian ode.6

* * *

            In the hands of the medieval Norman French romancer, Sylvia's story undergoes a singularly dramatic and charming transformation (Eneas, vv. 3515-3808).  Apart from eliminating, as expected, the whole mythological framework (e.g., Allecto is absent), the romancer portrays the maiden as feeding the stag from her own bowl, giving it drink from a goblet, and allowing it to sleep in her bed chamber.  In spite of its sixteen savage points and free daytime carousing with the hinds of the fields, it returns home at night, as in Virgil.  Sylvia (Silvie in Old French) plays with her pet, and when she calls to it, the animal comes and kneels at her feet; then she strokes it with her hand while, like the fabled unicorn, it eats bread from her lap and drinks wine in great draughts.  The Old French stag is tame also, so tame in fact that it acts as a candelabrum at the dinner table, allowing lit candles to be placed in its huge antlers so to illumine the banquet hall:

                        Un cerf ot norri la pucelle

                        que el paissait a s'escüelle...

                        et a sun henap l'abevrot

                        et an sa chambre le colchot.

                        Il estoit de seze ramors,


                        il alot fors par toz les jors

                        par chanpaignes et par boschages,

                        ensenble les biches salvages,

                        o les privees autretel;

                        la nuit revertoit a ostel.

                        La damoiselle o lui jooit,

                        et il tant bien la conoissoit,

                        de quel ore qu'el l'apelot,

                        devant ses piez s'agenoillot,

                        les piez li torchot a sa main,

                        a son escorz menjot lo pain,

                        a molt grant trait bevoit le vin:

                        por seissante livres d'or fin

                        nel volsist perdre la meschine.

                        Tant est li cers de bone orine

                        que la nuit servoit al mangier,

                        si ert en lou de chandelier

                        devant lo pere a la pucelle.

                        Mervoilles ert sa teste belle,

                        quant uns granz cierges li ardoit

                        sor chascun rain que il avoit.

                        Issi servit chascune nuit:

                        molt l'ot la meschine bien duit,

                        et des que li sire bevoit,

                        si se levoit li cers tot droit;


                        ne fu beste si serviable,

                        nus hon ne vit si antendable.7

            This animal is special, quite marvelous, and obviously healthy and well-fed.8  It would appear as well that the Old French author might have had the Judgment of Paris analogue in mind, since he introduces the scene--as does Virgil--with reference to the minima causa of the war (vv. 3520-24).

* * *

            Writing a few years later and in a different, though still courtly, milieu, Heinrich von Veldeke handles this passage in a quite similar way:

                        Nu vernemet vor ungelogen,

                        Die maget hete gezogen

                        Eynen herz, der waz vil wolzam,

                        schone unde lustsam,

                        Groz unde wol gehorn.

                        Dannen quam vil michil zorn.

                        Her waz wol zehn jar alt.

                        Her giene dicke in den walt

                        Weiden mit deme wilde

                        Dez tages uz in daz gevilde

                        Und quam des abendes widder zu hus.

                        Und alse der herre Tyrus

                        Uber synen tisch gesaz,

                        Der herz diente ime alse her az.


                        ...Uber sein hobit vorne

                        Cleibete man an syne horne

                        Kerzen die branten,

                        Die sinen site ir kanten,

                        Wan man der herre wiste danc.

                        Her richte sich uff so her tranc,

                        Her was gelert den site.

                        Da waz dem herren wol mite

                        Und die jungvrowe waz is vro.

                        Des selbin tagus quam iz so,

                        Daz waz unsalicheit....9

            For Heinrich, the moment is fraught with ominous foreboding:  this is the animal whose life is co-terminus with primitive peace in Italy, whose death will sound the knell of hostilities between the indigenous Rutulians and the invading Trojans.  The dark tone may very well derive from the elegiac mood in Ovid's version.

            Thus, for Virgil the stag is--mindful of some sweet pastoral sheep or goat--ironically more mild than the Fury Allecto!  It is almost human, especially when it returns home wounded and moaning, as if verbalizing its plea for help.  Sylvia's response resembles that of a woman in mourning (VII. 495 ff.)

            Relevant details of Ovid's text are:  cornua fulgebant auro (X. 112), and 'tu modo texebas varios per corna flores' (X. 123), each of which idea may have been suggestive for the Eneas poet.  Ovid seems to be responding to Virgil's creation, adding


embellishments such as these, as well as the notion of Cyparissus riding the tame animal bareback:  'nunc eques in tergo residens huc laetus et illuc/mollia purpureis frenabas ora capistris' (X. 124-25).  Ovid's text is suffused in elegiac melancholy.  How and why, Ovid seems to ask, would one kill the thing one loves most?  Like Pyramus before the bloody evidence of a devoured Thisbe, Cyparissus resolves to die, or at least to mourn forever (hoc petit a superis, ut tempore lugeat omni--X. 135).

            For the medieval poets, the episode becomes an opportunity to amplify and, one is tempted to say, invent with zest.10

            Such divergences from Virgil's Latin text that are found in the Roman d'Eneas have led this author to the formulation of a theory, and scrutiny of a number of glossed medieval Aeneid manuscripts has enlightened in part what can be designated "anomalies," i.e., specific cruces in the Old French text where the author diverges, for no immediately obvious or logical reason, from the original text of the Aeneid.11

*

* *

            Given the antiquity of the theme of the tame deer or stag, the power and awe that must have been associated with the animal's frightening antlers, and the continuity of the motifs, it is no wonder that the Virgilian/Ovidian episode was valued by our medieval authors.12


            As regards tame deer--by mere association--they turn up, for example, in various medieval saints' lives.  The legend of St. Eustace (Eustachius, 2nd century A.D.?), patron of hunters, tells of a stag with a crucifix glowing between its antlers, which, accompanied by a voice that prophesies Job-like sufferings, miraculously appears to the man Placidus (who will convert, change his name to Eustace, etc.).  St. Ciaran (or Ciarian) had a tame stag that accompanied him to school and, like St. Cannechus, used its antlers as a backrest.  St. Cronan fed apples to a wild deer and the animal stayed with him as a companion.  A number of other saints' lives seem to follow a pattern--a hunted (or wounded) stag takes refuge in the cave or hut of a saint, asking for protection, but this model seems more related to the "harried stag" motif.13

            But, with respect specifically to the wonderful idea of using the stag's antlers to hold lit candles, two other striking models occur in Virgil's own text. First, Aeneas' description of the miraculous omen in Aeneid Two that appears just before the flight from Troy (vv. 680-703):  Tongues of harmless flames flicker around Ascanius' head and magically lick at his curly locks and temples.  Creusa and Aeneas rush to quench the holy blaze on his hair, but Anchises knowingly prays for a confirmation of the omen.  Thunder crashes and a shooting star falls over the palace roof--a sign that Troy will still be famed by the Fates of Fathers.


            Second, from Book Seven, the ominous and frightening scene--as Latinus kindles the hallowed altars with a torch--when Lavinia's queenly hair catches fire and crackles all ablaze, burning her jewelled crown and headgear. This marvelous vision foretold the maiden's glorious future fame, yet also boded a great war for her people (Aeneid, VII. 71-80).

            Although these portentous episodes were omitted by the Old French romancer, a reference (proximate to the first scene) to the Judgment of Paris (in Aeneid Two, vv. 599ss), hints that their accumulated presence may very well have played a key role, like an echo, in the Norman author's re-conceptualization of Sylvia's stag.  If so, the candles burning in the animal's antlers become a harbinger not of impending disaster but of eventual order and peace.  The Old French author has synthesized and recuperated two marvelous Virgilian episodes and fused them into one medieval wonder. Heinric's dark pessimism may be seen, then, to contrast sharply with the Eneas author's more buoyant inventio.

            Along these same lines, we are reminded of the two white dancing bears described by the Carolingian Smaragdus in his Via regia. As Jaeger relates it,            

"They eat from dishes like men, they dance with the ladies, they twitter gently instead of roaring, and they do not get angry no matter how they are wronged ('Non irascantur quodcunque mali paterentur'...).


           

                        This may be a gentle parody of the courtier's virtue,             but just as likely is that the phenomenon of a                         civilized            bear was meant to inspire awe and serve as a model to the human beings who had not yet reached the same level of civilization."14

*

* *

            But, finally, no direct evidence has so far surfaced in the manuscript glosses for this divergence, so that, in the end, it may be presumed to derive, as suggested here, from the Old French author's incorporation of a variety of syncretic, analogous, and coincidental materials.

            Nor should the erotic value of the antlers be overlooked either.  Twisting garlands of flowers around the horns can be taken perhaps as a somewhat sublimated sexual caress--particularly if one appreciates the special potential of the stag's antlers.15  This subtlety may itself have been repressed or at least displaced by the burning candles set upon the stag's sixteen points.

            What does emerge clearly, however, is the vitality of Virgil's "accident," this "lightweight and puerile" invention for starting the war.  Ovid did it honor by pastiching the episode, even while enhancing the basic notion of the stag. And there is little doubt that our two medieval authors followed Virgil, even while undergoing the inescapable influence of Ovid.16


            Thus, an inventive Virgilian episode that serves to explain the outbreak of hostilities in Latium becomes thoroughly distilled and recreated by two medieval poets.  Virgil's idyllic yet thrilling hunt and the stag and the kill become transformed, and Sylvia's pet stag is turned into a marvelous animal, evocative of the legendary unicorn, or else, for Heinric, the scene forebodes ill and the stag's death announces the end of peace in Latium.  As part of the twelfth century Renaissance, Virgil, in this instance through fusion and intertextuality, becomes renewed through Ovid--a uniquely medieval method of assuring the continuity of both authors, Virgil's "old" Aeneid and Ovid's "new" Metamorphoses, each quasi-sacred in its own way.


NOTES

            1  Livy's survey (Ab urbe condita, 1.1-1.3) differs rather dramatically from Virgil's poetic version.

            2  Cormier, One Heart One Mind Introduction.  Cf. also Poirion, rev. of Zumthor, La Poésie et la voix, for an important discussion of "model" and "source."

            3  R. Heinze, Virgils Epische Technik 191.

            4  For E. Vance, the whole episode illustrates the regressive savagery of the Latins, contrasted with the domesticity and erotic violence implicit in Sylvia's story itself:  the stag is neither totally tame nor wild, thus demonstrating the Virgilian perspective of a "...basic erosion of the boundaries between domesticity and wildness among animals in the georgic world of the Latins" (128).  Vance seems to miss two points--the basic paradox in antiquity with regard to the primitive/pastoral (a bono, a malo) and also Virgil's need for a minima causa (like the old Judgment of Paris story).

            Bath (154), in a very interesting chapter on the "collared deer," discusses a stag that represents a "...symbol of time, of the endurance of the past, and perhaps of national continuity.  In classical times, the Palladium had much the same symbolism.  Whatever the accidents of history, the Palladium must be handed on, the Penates jealously protected.  Aeneas is pius above all because he does just that.  The deer must not be killed, its life is sacred:  Noli me tangere, Caesaris enim sum."


            5  Aymard, Essai 120, 123.  Aymard provides (pp. 73 ff.) detailed and fascinating background on Roman attitudes toward hunting wild animals; see p. 97, on Augustus Caesar's encouragement of hunting for propagandistic motives; pp. 116-23 for an explication of the three key hunting scenes in the Aeneid:  Book I--heroic [and oniric]; Book IV--Hellenistic/amatory; and Book VII--political/realistic.

            Sylvia's marvelous stag may be traced as far back as Pindar (Olympia 3, 29 [Snell ed. 14]:  chrusôkeron elaphon, "the doe with the golden horns," trans. Lattimore), and Callimachus (Hymn to Artemis, vv. 110-113 [Cahen, ed.]:  "Artemis, Virgin,/killer of Tityos,/in golden armor and belt, you yoked/a golden chariot, bridled deer in gold," trans. Lombardo 15).  See J. Baroin, "A propos du cerf épique" 11.  Cf. Dufournet, "Secondes notes" (cerf).  Cf. A. Deyermond, "Pero Meogo's Stags," for a study of the medieval poetic association of the stag and the fountain.

            J. Thomas, Structures de l'imaginaire dans l'Enéide 391, argues that the pervasive and nostalgic utopian universe of the Bucolics, reiterated in this episode, represents a temporal mode.  Virgil nonetheless attempts to escape; cf. also his general remarks on animals in the Aeneid (44).

            6  Met., X. 145-52; and then the sad story of Hyacinthus, X. 160 ff.


____________________________________________________________ 

See Gregson Davis, The Death of Procris 74-76, for a sensitive study of the association in Ovid and elsewhere between hunting and loving ("The Hunter as Beloved").

            L. Traube, Vorlesung und Abhandlungen, 113 for the original phrase aetas Virgiliana vs aetas Ovidiania; cf. Beddie, "The Ancient Classics in Medieval Libraries;" Ovid Renewed, ed. Martindale 57 (on the lusty and prideful 12th century); F. Ghisalberti, "Arnolfo d'Orléans" 160 (on the rise of the cathedral schools, esp. Fleury, Chartres, Orleans, etc.); F. Munari, 10, 24-26; Viarre, La Survie d'Ovide 75-78.

            7  Salverda de Grave ed., vv. 3533-64.  "The maiden had raised a deer, which she fed from her own bowl, which slept in her chamber.  It had sixteen points on its antlers.  Every day it went out through the fields and woods together with the wild hinds, and likewise with the domestic animals, but at night it returned to its home.  The damsel used to play with it, and it knew her so well that whenever she called it it would kneel down at her feet.  She would stroke its feet while it ate bread at her lap and drank wine in very great draughts.  The maiden would not have lost it for sixty pounds of fine gold.  The deer was so well behaved that at night it served at dinner, and acted as a candelabrum before the father and the daughter.  Its head was marvelously beautiful when a large candle burned on each of the points of its antlers.  Thus it served each night. 


____________________________________________________________

The maiden had taught it very well, and when the lord drank, then the deer stood all erect.  Never was there such an obliging beast, and never one so intelligent." (Yunck trans., 126-27).

            For Faral (96-97), the source is the tigress in the Roman de Thèbes (Constans, ed., vv. 4283 ff., 4511-30).  Yunck (Eneas trans. 126, n. 72) refers to the episode as a "striking expansion of over 250 lines," with a mini-epic like pastoral opening and violent ending.  In the Thebes, a tame tigress's death initiates the first struggle between the besiegers and the Thebans--"In the city...was a tigress whose equal was not known beneath the heavens.  Now you can hear a great marvel; it never touched a sheep, for it was thoroughly tame, wholly contrary to its nature.  If you gave it either meat or bread, it would eat out of your hand.  It would drink a large copper basin full of wine, and then it would be drunk all day, leaping and playing until you were thoroughly exhausted.  On the front of its forehead it had a brightly glowing carbuncle:  I do not think that such a noble head was to be seen on any other beast.  And its whole coat shone more than a bear's.  The king would not have lost it for 300 pounds in Mans money" (Yunck trans., loc. cit.).

            Servius' punning quip, ad Aen. VII. 487:  Sylvia:  bonum puellae rusticae nomen formavit, perhaps offered the Old French author a pretext for expansiveness in this episode;


____________________________________________________________

on the stag in the Aeneid, cf. IV. 69; XII. 749-55; A.S. Pease commentary 146-47. Donatus, Interpretationes, ad Aen. VII. 490, says the stag knew when it was dark outside.

            See Wheeler, Stratagem 55, for a report from Livy on Hannibal's deceptive use of torches tied to cattle horns to escape from a trap by night (Livy, Ab urbe condita XXII. 16-17):  after razing the Italian countryside, Hannibal is caught in a trap in Casilinum by Fabius; the ruse:  2000 cattle with torches at first dusk stampede from fear of the flames and heat, frightening the enemy and allowing Hannibal to escape.

            8  See Darling's classic study, A Herd of Red Deer 157-61.  According to Walker (Mammals of the World II, 1402) this is either a typical European red deer or a reindeer (of which both sexes are antlered); writing of these highly gregarious mammals and of the caribou also, Walker states:  "Although there is great diversity in the shape of the antlers, they are usually long sweeping beams with forwardly-projecting brow tines."

            For the theme of the Devil as a hunter in the world, see Augustine, P.L. 38, col. 936, 334; John of Salisbury, P.L. 199, 390. 391.

            9  Scheib/Frings ed., vv. 4585-4611 (II, 328); "...The maiden had raised a large, tame stag with splendid antlers that was about ten years old and very handsome.  It was to cause much enmity.  It sometimes went into the forest to graze during the


____________________________________________________________

day in the clearings with the wild deer, but returned of an

evening to serve Sir Tyrrhus as he sat eating at his table.  Those who knew how it was trained would fasten burning candles to its horns so that all could see.  I'll tell you what else the stag had been taught to do that pleased the lord:  it raised its head high whenever he drank.  Both the lord and the maiden were fond of it....  Unfortunately the stag went out to the forest with four wild deer on...[that] morning..." (trans. J.W. Thomas 53).

            10  See Cormier, "Humour in the Roman d'Eneas."  I believe the "standing erect" and "raising its head high" notions derive from the Latin Physiologus or Old French Bestiaire; cf. McCulloch 172-74 (on the stag's reputed swimming position).

            11  See R. Cormier, One Heart One Mind; idem, "Qui detient le Rameau d'or" and "An Example of Twelfth-Century adaptatio," for more background on the hypothesis.  With the help of a Fulbright research fellowship (W. Europe, 1983-84), a systematic study of Aeneid manuscripts bearing 9th-12th century glosses was undertaken.  The project continues:  well over one hundred such codices have now been studied in Western European libraries:  Leiden, Holland; Bern, Switzerland; Paris, Montpellier, Valenciennes, St. Claude, France; Cambridge, London, and Oxford, England; Florence and the Vatican, Italy; Brussels and Ghent, Belgium; and Hamburg, Germany. 


____________________________________________________________

Support for the last three mentioned came from an NEH Travel to Collections grant July-August 1986.  Study of the Vatican collections (Sept.-Dec., 1989) was made possible by a timely grant from the American Philosophical Society.

            12  See M. Süring 453-54, for curious parallels in Sumerian and Hebrew:  correlation in meaning between "horn" and "brightness," "radiance," "rays" (of light).  Cf. Phyllis Pray Bober's influential study, "Cernunnos" 18-19, for background on this horned divinity, the associated figure of the stag as a sacred animal, probably worshipped by the Celts, aptly emblematic in the Graeco-Roman tradition of the "generative forces of nature."  Jacque Monfrin, "Les Translations vernaculaires" 229, shows how the whole theme maintains its durability by reappearing in the early 13th century prose Histoire ancienne jusqu'à César (f. 161d).

            In the end, one is tempted to suspect the Old French author of a pun on cervus and cereus!  As Darling puts it (161):  "These mysterious organs [stags' antlers] are a paradox; at one moment exquisitely sensitive, they can be apparently without feeling the next."

            Cf. also Bath 129:  a sacred deer was adopted by the eponymous founder of Capua, Capys, when he traced out the walls of the city with a plough.  Like Virgil's Sylvia, the city matrons combed this deer's fur, bathed the animal, and it became


 

____________________________________________________________

the deity of Capua, favored by Diana. The life of this domesticated deer became co-terminus with that of the city--a blessed 1000 years.  When it was chased away by fierce wolves, enemy soldiers killed it, having laid Capua under siege.  Sertorius' tame deer (Plutarch, Lives 9, cited in Bath 13) was supposedly a gift from the divine Diana; its powers of prophecy were flaunted to deceive nearby superstitious barbarians, a piece of military cunning, according to Plutarch.  Bath speculates (130) that the association between an animal and the foundation of a city (Capuan deer, the sow in Aeneas' Rome) may go back to a primitive totem-worship; but he does not consider such stories as related directly to the legends of the collared, long-lived deer.    For the sense of "valued," see R.J. Cormier, "La Blessure d'Enée."

            13For saints' lives, J. Leclercq, "Bêtes et moines" (an exhaustive personal file, was surveyed in July 1986, with thanks to Dom Leclercq; eight texts show the pattern:  Lives of Fructueux, Aiden, Coemger, Calogerus, Luke the Lesser, Simeon, Cronan, and Cannechus; key words in context are cervus, venatores, spelunca, vulnus, canes, and refugium cum sancto).  For St. Ciaran, see Bath, "The Image of the Stag" 102).  Cf. M. Thiébaux, The Stag of Love 42ff., for the "nobly-antlered stag" and later medieval allegorical developments, especially in Les Livres duroy Modus; ibid. 43-44, on the theme of the "harried 


____________________________________________________________

stag" (in the Aeneid, La chanson de Roland, etc.).  See also Marie de France, Del cerf a une ewe (Fables, ed. Spiegel no. 24); in her Guigemar, vv. 184-86, the candelabrum on the ship's prow seems to suggest a fairy world association. 

            M. Riffaterre's "Intertextuality" points to conclusions that view with wholeness an understanding of Virgilian and Ovidian "influences."

            14  Cited by C. Stephen Jaeger, The Origins of Courtliness 149.

            15  See, for example, F. Fraser Darling, A Herd of Red Deer 160 (on masturbation with the antlers); more recently De Vos, A., et al., "A Review of Social Behavior of the North Americans Cernids During the Reproductive Period" (esp. rutting and antler rubbing).

            16  See the authoritative L. Holtz, "La Survie de Virgile dans le haut moyen âge;" cf. G. Bond, "Marbod of Rennes and the Origins of Troubadour Lyric."

            Although our Aeneid/Eneas project has focussed almost exclusively on the 9th-12th century glosses, we did observe casually and in no way scientifically, the similar mise en page of the relevant folio (recto toward the top) for the alinea at the beginning of the Sylvia episode and at the beginning of the Cyparissus story in Ovid's Metamorphoses.


REFERENCES

Aymard, Jacques.  Essai sur les chasses romaines des origines à la fin du siècle des Antonins (Cynegetica).  Biblio. de l'École française d'Athènes et de Rome, 171.  Paris: De Boccard, 1951.

Baroin, Jeanne.  "A propos du cerf épique."  Pp. 5-15 in Mélanges Foulon II.  [Marche romane 30(1980)].

Bath, Michael P.  "The Image of the Stag in Literary and Iconographic Traditions of the Middle Ages."

          .  "The Stag of Justice."  Atti del V Colloquio della International Beast Epic, Fable and Fabliau Society.  Ed. A. Vitalo--Brovarone and G. Membello.  Alessandria, Italy:  Dell'Orso, 1988.

Beddie, J.S.  "The Ancient Classics in Medieval Libraries."  Speculum 5(1930):3-17.

Bober, Phyllia Pray.  "Cernunnos:  Origin and Transformation of a Celtic Divinity."  American Journal of Archeology 55(1951):13-51.

Bond, Gerald A.  "Marbod of Rennes and the Origins of Troubadour Lyric."  Presented to the VIth Triennial Congress, International Courtly Literature Society, Salerno-Fisciano, Italy, July 1989.

Callimachus.  Les Origines...Epigrammes... Hymnes.  Ed., tr. Emile Cahen.  Paris:  Belles Lettres, 1948.


Callimachus, The Hymns.  Trans. Stanley Lombardo.              Baltimore/London:              Johns Hopkins University Press, 1988.

Cormier, Raymond J.  "An Example of Twelfth-Century adaptatio:  The Roman d'Eneas Author's Use of Glossed Aeneid Manuscripts."  (To appear in Revue d'histoire des textes, Paris).

          .  "La Blessure d'Enée et la purification initiatique du héros (Virgile, Enéide, XII. 305-494; Roman d'Eneas, vv. 9462-9596."  Bien dire et bien aprandre (U. Lille-III), 5(1987):47-55.

          .  "Humour in the Roman d'Eneas."  Florilegium (Carleton University, Ottawa) 7(1985):129-44.

          .  One Heart One Mind:  The Rebirth of Virgil's Hero in Medieval French Romance.  Romance Monographs 3, 1973.

          .  "Qui détient le Rameau d'Or devant Charon? (Enéide, VI. 405-407)."  Rheinisches Museum für Philologie 131(1988):151-56.

Darling, F. Fraser.  A Herd of Red Deer:  A Study in Animal Behaviour.  Oxford University Press, 1937, 1956.

Davis, Gregson.  The Death of Procris:  'Amor' and the Hunt in Ovid's 'Metamorphoses'.  Rome:  Ateneo, 1983.

De Vos, A., et al.  "A Review of Social Behavior of the North American Cervids During the Reproductive Period."  American Midlands Naturalist 77(1967):390-417.


Deyermond, Alan.  "Pero Meogo's Stags and Fountains:  Symbol and Anecdote in Traditional Lyric."  Romance Philology 33 (1979):265-83.

Donatus [Tiberius]. Interpretationes. Ed. Heinrich Georges. 2             vols. Leipzig: Teubner, 1905-1906.

Dufournet, Jean.  "Secondes notes sur le bestiaire de Villon.  Le             Cerf et la biche.  Pp. 233-48 in Mélanges P. Jonin.  Aix-en-            Provence:  CUERMA, 1979.

Enéas:  Roman du XIIe siècle.  Ed. J.J. Salverda de Grave.  2 vols. CFMA.  Paris:  Champion, 1925-27.

          .  Trans. John W. Yunck.  Records of Civilization.  New York:  Columbia University Press, 1974.

Faral, Edmond.  Recherches sur les sources latines des romans et contes courtois du XIIe siècle.  Paris:  Champion, 1913.

Ghisalberti, Fausto.  "Arnolfo d'Orléans:  Un Culture di Ovidio nel Secolo XII."  Memorie del R. Ist. Lombardo di scienze e lettere (Milano) 24(1932):157-234.

Heinric von Veldeke:  Eneide. Ed., comm. G. Schieb and W. Frings. 2 vols.  Deutsche Texte des Mittelalters, 58-59.  Berlin:  Akademie, 1964.

          .  Eneit. Trans. J.W. Thomas.  Garland Library of Medieval Literature.  New York:  Garland, 1985.

Heinze, R.  Virgils epische Technik. 4th ed.  Leipzig:  Teubner, 1957.


Holtz, Louis.  "La Survie de Virgile au haut moyen âge."  Pp. 8-21 in Présence de Virgile.  Ed. R. Chevalier (= Caesarodunum XIII [1960]).

Jaeger, C. Stephen. The Origins of Courtliness: Civilizing Trends             and the Formation of Courtly Ideals, 939-1210. Philadelphia:             University of Pennsylvania Press, 1986.

Leclercq, Jean, comp.  "Bâtes et moines."  Clervaux, Luxembourg:  Abbaye St. Maurice (personal file).

Livy (Titi Livi).  Ab urbe condita (Historiae).  Ed. W. Weissenborn.  Leipzig:  Teubner, 1883.

          .  The Early History of Rome.  Books I-V of The History of Rome from its Foundation.  Trans. Aubrey de Selincourt.  Harmondsworth/Baltimore:  Penguin, 1971.

Macrobius (Ambrosii Theodosii Macrobii).  Saturnalia. Ed. J. Willis.  Leipzig:  Teubner, 1970.

Marie de France.  Fables.  Ed., trans. Harriet Spiegel.  Toronto/Buffalo/London:  University of Toronto Press, 1987.

______________. Lais. Ed. A. Ewert. Oxford: Blackwell, 1938.

Martindale, Charles, ed.  Ovid Revewed:  Ovidian Influence on Literature and Art From the Middle Ages to the Twentieth Century.  Cambridge:  Cambridge University Press, 1988.

McCulloch, Florence.  Medieval Latin and Old French Bestiaries.  University of North Carolina Studies in Romance Languages and Literature.  Chapel Hill:  University of North Carolin Press, 1962.


Monfrin, Jacques.  "Les Translations vernaculaires de Virgile au Moyen Age."  Pp. 189-249 in Lectures médiévales de Virgile.  Ed. J.-Y. Tilliette.  Rome:  École française, 1985.

Munari, Franco.  Ovid im Mittelalter.  Zürich/Stuttgart:  Artemis, 1960.

Otis, Brooks.  Virgil:  A Study in Civilized Poetry.  Oxford:  Clarendon Press, 1964.

Ovid, Metamorphoses.  Ed., trans. Frank Justus Miller.  2 vols.  Loeb Classical Library.  Cambridge, Mass. and London:  Harvard University Press/W. Heinemann, 1921, 1960.

          .  Trans. Mary M. Innes.  Harmondsworth:  Penguin, 1955, 1983.

Pease, A.S.  Publi Vergili Maronis:  Aeneidos, Libet Quartus.  Cambridge, Mass.:  Harvard University Press, 1938.

Pindar.  Carmina.  Ed. Bruno Snell.  Leipzig:  Teubner, 1964.

          .  The Odes.  Trans. Richard Lattimore.  Chicago:  University of Chicago Press, 1947.

Riffaterre, Michel.  "Intertextuality."  Seminar Presentation at the University of Pennsylvania, 27 March 1987.

Süring, Margrit L.  The Horn-Motif in the Hebrew Bible and Related Ancient Near Eastern Literature and Iconography.  Berrien Springs, Michigan:  Andrews University Press, 1980.

Thiébaux, Marcelle.  The Stag of Love.  Ithaca:  Cornell             University Press, 1974.


Thomas, Joël.  Structures de l'imaginaire dans l'Enéide.  Coll. d'Études Anciennes.  Paris:  Belles Lettres, 1981.

Traube, Ludwig.  Vorlesungen und Abhandlungen.  2 vols. Munich:  De Gruyter, 1972.

Vance, Eugene.  "Sylvia's Pet Stag:  Wildness and Domesticity in Virgil's Aeneid."  Arethusa 14(1981):127-38.

Viarre, Simone.  La Survie d'Ovide dans la littérature scientifique des XIIe et XIIIe siècles.  Poitiers:  CESCM, 1966.

Virgil, The Aeneid.  Ed. R.A.B. Mynors.  Oxford Classical Texts.  Oxford:  Clarendon Press, 1969.

Walker, Ernest P., et al.  Mammals of the World.  2 vols. 3rd ed.  Baltimore/London:  Johns Hopkins University Press, 1975.

Wheeler, Everett L.  Stratagem and the Vocabulary of Military Trickery.  Leiden:  Brill, 1988.

Zumthor, Paul. La Poésie et la voix dans la civilisation             médiévale; La Lettre et la voix dans la littérature             médiévale. Rev. D. Poirion in Cahiers de civilisation             médiévale 32 (1989): 186-88.