Hostis Medeae nullus inultus erit (Ov.Her.XII.182): The women of the Heroides bite back

Hannah Sanderson
Nov 6 · 23 min read
Andrea Sacchi — Death of Dido

This essay will explore how the women of the single Heroides use threats and curses throughout their letters to attempt to force their lovers to return. The heroines’ threats to their absentee lovers are all-encompassing; promising suicide and murder whilst simultaneously threatening the destruction of their lover’s reputation and even the world at large. The heroines pack their letters with varied and violent threats, hoping to convince the men that life will be full of unquantifiable horrors if they stay away. Some letters are more threatening than others and this essay will mainly focus on those sent by Phyllis, Oenone, Hypsipyle, Dido and Medea. Kauffman claims that Ovid’s heroines ‘combine logic and emotion… and [are] as skilled rhetorically as politicians’.[1] This can be seen clearly in the threats discussed in this essay. While the letters are certainly full of emotion, they also contain threats specific to each lover’s character and interests. The women use their threats as a technique to force their lovers to return. Ovid’s use of the epistolary form increases the narrative suspense so that each letter has an overwhelming power to terrify and motivate their reader.

A threat many heroines clearly believe will be persuasive is their suicide. This theme is present in many of the letters, for example when Hermione faces the abandonment of Orestes she promises:

aut ego praemoriar primoque exstinguar in aevo,
aut ego Tantalidae Tantalis uxor ero
.[2]

Either I shall die before my time and in my youthful years be blotted out, or I, a Tantalid, shall be the wife of him sprung from Tantalus! (Loeb translation; Ov. Her. VIII.121–122).

The anaphora of aut ego gives a clear structure to the choice Hermione offers Orestes; marriage or death. Hermione increases sympathy through the phrase praemoriar primoque, the juxtaposition of two words, which both express the meaning ‘before’, emphasises the untimely manner of her death. She is convinced Orestes would not want her to die and so threatens suicide to force his hand. Another example is in Heroides XIII when Laodamia begs:

parcite, Dardanidae, de tot, precor, hostibus uni,
ne meus ex illo corpore sanguis eat
. [3]

O ye sons of Dardanus, spare, I pray, from so many foes at least one, lest my blood flow from that body. (Ov. Her. XIII.79–80)

This plea might appear incongruous as the Trojans could never conceivably read her letter. Laodamia is not expecting a Trojan reader, but instead hoping for a sympathetic response from her husband Protesilaus. This plea conjures up a pathetic image of his wife begging for her life, but it can also be read as a serious threat. If anything happens to Protesilaus, she too will be harmed. Laodamia increases this dramatic declaration in the gruesome words, ex illo corpore sanguis eat. The hyperbolic description creates a horrifying image of the blood draining from her body. Suicide is not the main focus of either of these letters, but the women still rely on its emotive power to show how troubled they are at their lover’s absence.

In other letters suicide is the pivotal rhetorical technique, most notably those of Phyllis and Dido. In Heroides II and VII, the heroines often dwell on their death, deliberately drawing out the gory details. Phyllis includes a long list of all the different ways she could take her own life:

suppositas inmittere corpus in undas
mens fuit; et, quoniam fallere pergis, erit

saepe venenorum sitis est mihi; saepe cruenta
traiectam gladio morte perire iuvat.
colla quoque…
…laqueis inplicuisse iuvat
.[4]

To throw myself hence into the waves beneath has been my mind; and, since you still pursue your faithless course, so shall it be… Oft do I long for poison; oft with the sword would I gladly pierce my heart and pour forth my blood in death. My neck, too… I could gladly ensnare in the noose. (Ov. Her. II.133–142)

Here I had a mind to hurl myself into the swelling waves — and since you will go on failing me, I will… Often I thirst for poison, often I’d like to die a bloody death, pierced by a sword. My neck too… I’d like to entangle in a noose.

The repetition of saepe expresses how frequently these suicidal thoughts come to her mind. Blame is an important factor in Heroides II and Phyllis shows her complete condemnation of Demophoon when she says, quoniam fallere pergis, erit. As with Hermione and Laodamia, her implication is plain: return or I will die. Some scholars believe Phyllis gets carried away in her letter and is ‘seduced into killing herself’.[5] There is certainly a gloating tone in the numerous options she lists. Her gleeful malice is increased by the repetition of the verb iuvat, and Ovid’s deliberate decision to leave the method of hanging till last, knowing readers would recognise this as the canonical method Phyllis uses. It is clear that these elements are meant to cruelly tease the audience. Despite this, I consider Phyllis’ ultimate aim is to force Demophoon to return. Phyllis deliberately dwells on her death to show Demophoon she is serious and should not be ignored.

Many scholars have commented on the extensive similarities between the letters of Dido and Phyllis; parallels which appear to originate entirely from Ovid. In other versions of Demophoon’s myth, the hero merely rests at Thrace on the way home from Troy, however in Heroides II he arrives with laceraspuppes.[6] Just like Aeneas, he is shipwrecked and destitute. Another considerable alteration is the promotion of Phyllis from princess to queen. The idea that Phyllis is the ruler of Thrace allows her the agency to provide invaluable hospitality to Demophoon and it is yet another way she can be compared with Dido, Queen of Carthage.[7] Why does Ovid mould Phyllis so obviously in Dido’s image?[8] Ovid’s repetitiveness has attracted much criticism from scholars.[9] No-one is more condemning of this decision than Jacobson, who views Heroides VII as a ‘failure… whether the Aeneid existed or not’.[10] I disagree, these letters are not failures, but literature, carefully constructed to allow stimulating comparison. Ovid shows his genius through the heroines’ suicide threats.

Like Phyllis, Dido dwells at great length on her suicide:

animus nobis effundere vitam;
in me crudelis non potes esse diu…
…et gremio Troicus ensis adest
.[11]

If you yield not, my purpose is fixed to pour forth my life; you can not be cruel to me for long…I write, and the Trojan’s blade is ready in my lap. (Ov. Her. VII.181–184)

The dramatic description of her animus nobis effundere vitam, shows Dido conjuring up sympathy for her death. Her letter also places the blame entirely on Aeneas, me crudelis non potes esse diu, suggesting his abandonment is so cruel that death is her only escape. Unlike Phyllis, Dido explicitly describes what she will use to kill herself, gremio Troicus ensis adest. This threat still shares Phyllis’ provocative tone. The Trojan sword was a gift from Aeneas, quam bene conveniunt fato tua munera nostro.[12] The phrase quam bene is filled with same taunting malice as Phyllis’ iuvat: both women appear to relish the fact that they can blame their suicide on their absent lovers. Knox describes how the use of munera is ‘bitterly ironic’ as it was ‘the proper word for an offering to the dead’.[13] Dido is blatantly mentioning Aeneas’s sword to force a reaction from him, as Kauffman states, in the letter Dido’s threat of suicide is merely a ‘rhetorical ploy’.[14] Her threat is left deliberately hanging, Ovid clearly relying on ‘the power of the reader’ to fill in the gaps.[15] Ovid’s aim in many of the Heroides is to present a snapshot of the action, taken just before the explosive denouement in the heroines’ lives. The letters written by Phyllis and Dido both end immediately before their suicide, filling the reader with a knowing sympathy. For the heroines, however, these threats are just manipulative methods to drag their lovers back. No reader could fail to be impressed at the lengths they will go to. Michalopoulos claims that the heroines who commit suicide have only a ‘limited way to express their anger’. [16] This is not true, the women have not run out of options; rather they have channelled their anger into one final threat. They belligerently throw their cards down, daring their lovers to refuse. Although it is their tragedy that the men remain unresponsive, this certainly does not detract from their triumphant and persuasive technique.

A further strategy the heroines use when discussing their suicide is to link it to their writing. As Dido says:

adspicias utinam, quae sit scribentis imago!
scribimus, et gremio Troicus ensis adest
.[17]

Could you but see now the face of her who writes these words! I write, and the Trojan’s blade is ready in my lap. (Ov. Her. VII.183–4)

The polyptoton of scibentisscribimus, focuses attention on her writing. The letters could often be viewed as tragic soliloquies but here Dido prevents this from happening. She forces the reader to concentrate on her act of writing, not just her words. Some scholars consider the Heroides comparable to suasoriae.[18] Even Jacobson, who strongly rejects this theory, admits that Heroides VII ‘comes closest to falling into that category’ because of its persuasive argumentation.[19] This moment is particularly compelling. Dido is presenting Aeneas with an ultimatum; should she use her pen or her sword? Canace presents a similar contrast in her letter to Macreus, dextra tenet calamum, strictum tenet altera ferrum.[20] The deliberate balance of the two phrases, dextra tenet strictum tenet, shows her two remaining options. In such moments the heroines show an ‘acknowledgement of the defiant character of their writing’, and how they are manipulating their desperate situation to help achieve their goal.[21] The women write their letters in crisis, which drives them to offer the ultimate threat: their way or their lives. This shows the drastic techniques the women use to persuade their men.

Self-harm is not the only weapon in the heroines’ armoury. They also threaten to ruin their lover’s status and reputation. In Heroides II and VII the women achieve this through the threat of permeant inscription. Over the course of her letter, Phyllis wishes for two inscriptions to haunt Demophoon. First, she imagines a plaque under Demophoon’s statue which reads, HIC EST, CUIUS AMANS HOSPITA CAPTA DOLO EST.[22] The brief phrase HIC EST, shows how Phyllis is suggesting that this one act will be used to summarise Demophoon’s whole life. His treatment of Phyllis will overshadow his reputation and how he will be remembered. Phyllis believes writing to have an indelible effect and uses this threat to frighten Demophoon in the hope that he will return in search of a better destiny.

Should this description fail to convince, Phyllis envisions another — this time her own epitaph:

PHYLLIDA DEMOPHOON LETO DEDIT HOSPES AMANTEM;
ILLE NECIS CAUSAM PRAEBUIT, IPSA MANUM.
[23]

DEMOPHOON ’TWAS SENT PYLLIS TO HER DOOM; HER GUEST WAS HE, SHE LOVED HIM WELL.
HE WAS THE CAUSE THAT BROUGHT HER DEATH TO PASS; HER OWN THE HAND BY WHICH SHE FELL.
(Ov. Her. II.147–148)

Whereas the identity of the AMANS HOSPITA on Demophoon’s statue could be ambiguous, there is no room for doubt here.[24] The juxtaposition of the names PHYLLIDA DEMOPHOON shows Phyllis is placing the entire blame on Demophoon. The use of AMANTEM reminds the reader of the ambiguous AMANS in line 74, showing how Phyllis cleverly links both inscriptions.[25] If any further proof was needed Phyllis directly identifies Demophoon as the CAUSAM of her death in the second line. Phyllis warns Demophoon that not only will this epitaph exist, but it is by this he notus eris.[26] The implication is clear, unless Demophoon returns, Phyllis’ death will be his only trophy. Lindheim is critical of the Heroides II and VII, calling them the ‘“classic case” of the abandoned woman’ and condemns Phyllis’ suicide as merely ‘a means to highlight… the hero’s power… She allots to him the role of subject… referring to herself in the accusative’.[27] I disagree, Phyllis is not submissively handing over her power, rather she is forcing Demophoon to feel a crushing sense of responsibility. This manipulative coercion presents Demophoon with only one conceivable option, his return.

Dido also uses an inscription in Heroides VII to condemn Aeneas. Dido’s anger surges throughout this letter, apart from one moment where her bitterness appears to falter, vive, precor.[28] Why is this furious heroine resorting to such a pathetic plea? Fox criticises Dido here, saying she ‘shows very little dignity’ in hoping Aeneas survives the storm.[29] Dido is not undignified here, she is menacing. She does not want Aeneas to live because the thought of his death is too terrible, rather she wants him alive so that:

te melius quam funere perdam.
tu potius leti causa ferere mei
.[30]

Thus shall I see you worse undone than by death. You shall rather be reputed the cause of my own doom.(Ov. Her. VII. 63–64)

Just like Phyllis, Dido is threatening Aeneas that he will only be remembered for his abandonment. Later on, Dido visualises this threat on her epitaph:

PRAEBUIT AENEAS ET CAUSAM MORTIS ET ENSEM;
IPSA SUA DIDO CONCIDIT USA MANU.
[31]

[ELISSA, WIFE OF SYCHAEUS; yet there shall be one the marble of my tomb these lines:]
FROM AENEAS CAME THE CAUSE OF HER DEATH, AND FROM HIM THE BLADE;
FROM THE HAND OF DIDO HERSELF CAME THE STROKE BY WHICH SHE FELL.
(Ov. Her. VII. 195–196)

Ovid use of the verb PRAEBUIT in both Heroides II and VII, forces the reader to recognise this deliberate comparison.[32] Dido also uses both names in her inscription. This time the names are on separate lines, skilfully showing the cause and effect, placing the blame entirely on Aeneas. Scholars have remarked on the absence of the canonical cursed casket in Heroides II, given to Demophoon by Phyllis and ultimately bringing about his death.[33] I believe Ovid omits this because he wants the reader to view the threats Phyllis and Dido make as much worse. They do not wish for physical pain, rather they wish for their lover’s utter destruction through more insidious methods. Lindheim suggests that in writing their own epitaphs the heroines are seeking to intertwine themselves in their lover’s stories.[34] I think there is a more sinister spin, the heroines are threatening to haunt their lovers and wreak devastation on their lives. The ultimatum is obvious; come back because you will never be able to escape![35]

Oenone also uses the threat of writing to persuade Paris, this time scratched on a tree. Unlike with Phyllis and Dido, this writing is not part of an idealistic future, but a nostalgic past:

CUM PARIS OENONE POTERIT SPIRARE RELICTA,
AD FONTEM XANTHI VERSA RECURRET AQUA.
[36]

IF PARIS’ BREATH SHALL FAIL NOT, ONCE OENONE HE DOTH SPURN,
THE WATERS OF THE XANTHUS TO THEIR FOUNT SHALL BACKWARD TURN.
(Ov. Her. V. 29–30)

Once again, the names are in juxtaposition, PARIS OENONE, showing the reader how Paris’ oath binds them together. In the next line Oenone wishes for this oath to come true because Paris has abandoned her.[37] She is hoping that by reminding Paris of his own terrifying promise she will scare him into returning.[38] In her book, Fulkerson claims that the heroines believe ‘if something is written it must be true’.[39] This can explain why each heroine writes her letter in the first place, but also why Phyllis, Dido and Oenone believe their threatened inscriptions will be so persuasive.

The heroines also threat to harm third parties, frequently rivals. A technique used by many of the women is to predict a future reversal of their enemies’ fortune. For example, Oenone threatens:

sic Helene doleat defectaque coniuge ploret,
quaeque prior nobis intulit, ipsa ferat.
[40]

So may Helen’s grief be, and so her lamentation, when she is deserted by her love; and what she was first to bring on me may she herself endure! (Ov. Her. V. 75–76)

The alliteration and harsh consonant sounds in doleat defectaque coniuge, shows Oenone spitting out every venomous syllable. The brief declaration at the end, ipsa ferat, encapsulates Oenone’s absolute conviction that this will happen. Knox claims that although, ‘imprecations against Helen’ are frequent throughout ancient literature, ‘Oenone reduces this motif to a strictly personal level’.[41] I agree, Oenone is hoping that by predicting such an awful future for Helen she will dissuade Paris from his current path and convince him to return to her. She also uses the example of Menelaus to deter Paris:

sic et Menelaon amavit.
nunc iacet in viduo credulus ille toro
.[42]

So, too, she loved Menelaus. He, trusting fool that he was, lies now in a deserted bed. (Ov. Her. V. 105–106)

The contrast between sic and nunc shows the recent and drastic change Menelaus has experienced. Oenone assures Paris, tu quoque clamabis, the future tense clamabis intensified by the emphatic tu making it clear that this is the only possible outcome.[43] This is a terrible and compelling threat.

Although highly convincing, Oenone’s words pale in comparison next to Hypsipyle’s threats in Heroides VI. Her letter contains a long prediction forecasting how Medea’s fortune will turn and she will end up like Hypsipyle, jilted and alone, natis orba sit illa viro… exulet et toto quaerat in orbe fugam.[44] Her imagined horrors are unnervingly accurate. Medea will be abandoned by Jason, lose her two children and be forced into exile. Scholars have frequently discussed why Ovid allows Hypsipyle such accurate prophecies. Fulkerson suggests that by placing her letter (Heroides VI) after Oenone’s (Heroides V), Ovid transfers the ‘clairvoyant abilities’ normally associated with the nymph onto Hypsipyle.[45] With this theory, she explains why Oenone’s curses are not precise while Hypsipyle’s categorically are. Although this is an interesting interpretation, I do not think Ovid wanted the reader to see Hypsipyle as ‘improbably clairvoyant’.[46] Hypsipyle is not conscious of her own accuracy; it is just a coincidence, another layer of irony which pervades Ovidian poetry. Her aim in these threats is to present the most horrifying picture imaginable, hoping this will convince Jason to avoid it by returning to her. This is shown in the sensationalist way she describes Medea’s bereavement, natis orba sit illa viro. The positioning of orba sit in the middle of the line, means it both visually and aurally separates Medea from her family. Hypsipyle involves Jason in her threats when she describes how Medea will be, tam natis, tam sit acerba viro.[47] The pithiness of the phrase, intensified by the repetition of tam, leaves no room for doubt. If Jason stays he, and those around him, will suffer a terrible fate. Hypsipyle frames the penultimate line of her letter to show her placing the curse haec ego… oro.[48] The verb oro shows that she is not certain her curse will come true, but she craves this terrible fate for her absentee lover and his beguiling wife. In her final line, Hypsipyle attempts once more to scare Jason, vivite, devoto nuptaque virque toro.[49] The emphatic positioning of devoto stresses its awful meaning, while the placement of nuptaque virque in the middle of the line, shows the couple are intertwined in their terrible fate. The imperative vivite, is similar to Dido’s plea vive, precor. [50] Both heroines want their love to survive so they can endure a cursed fate. Jacobson claims that by ‘the last stages of the poem… there is no longer the slightest attempt to obtain Jason’s return, only an all-consuming desire for revenge’.[51] I disagree; Hypsipyle, like Oenone, uses her terrifying anger and ominous threats hoping that it will convince her lover to eschew his dangerous path and return to her loving arms.

In case the ethereal nature of these threats makes them unconvincing, the heroines also threaten physical harm on these third parties. A recurring threat is that the children, created through their love, will come to harm. Penelope, whose letter is noticeably unthreatening, introduces this theme in her programmatic letter:

Telemacho veniet, vivat modo, fortior aetas;
nunc erat auxiliis illa tuenda patris
.[52]

Telemachus, indeed, so he live on, will arrive at years of strength, but now should have his father’s aid and guarding. (Ov. Her. I.107–108)

Penelope names her son, attempting to provoke an emotional reaction from Odysseus. This effect is increased by the gerundive tuenda, which she hopes will fill her husband with a sense of obligation. Penelope does not just suggest that anything specific might happen to Telemachus, she leaves the threat ambiguously open, motivating her husband’s return through fear of the unknown. Hypsipyle also threatens the welfare of her son throughout her letter, on one occasion even parroting Jason’s words back at him, vivat, et eiusdem simus uterque parens.[53] The use of vivat here echoes Penelope’s wish in Heroides I. Both women play on their lover’s paternal instinct and fear, hoping this emotional manipulation will convince them to return. Fulkerson claims that Penelope is highly admirable in the Heroides because she does not ‘kill herself or threaten suicide… [managing] to preserve herself as an epic heroine despite being placed into an elegiac poem’.[54] I suggest that Penelope instead understands that suicide threats will have no effect on Odysseus. In her letter she wonders whether Odysseus esse peregrino captus amore potes resulting in her rustica love no longer holds any fascination.[55] Penelope suspects that Odysseus is too obsessed with his new love to be concerned with the life of his abandoned wife. She therefore chooses a strategy much more likely to move her lover — the plight of his child.

In both Heroides VI and XII, the women wonder how Jason’s new girlfriend will treat their children. The abandoned Hypsipyle shivers at the idea that:

sed tenuit coeptas saeva noverca vias.
Medeam timui: plus est Medea noverca;
Medeae faciunt ad scelus omne manus
.[56]

But thought of the cruel stepdame turned me back from the path I would have trod. ’Twas Medea I feared. Medea is more than a stepdame; the hands of Medea are fitted for any crime. (Ov. Her. VI. 126–128)

The polyptoton of MedeamMedeaMedeae shows how much this fear is preying on her mind. Hypsipyle is trying to show Jason that Medea would be a serious threat to Hypsipyle’s children and that he should avoid this situation. Similarly, Medea wonders saeviet in partus dira noverca meos. [57] The use of noverca shows the deliberate comparison Ovid is creating with Heroides VII.[58] This line is highly ironic as the reader knows it is Medea who hurts her children not Creusa. However, Medea’s aim mirrors that of the other heroines. The women are prompting their lovers into returning by threats of impending harm to their children.

Dido takes this threat a step further when she threatens to kill herself and her unborn child:

accedet fatis matris miserabilis infans,
et nondum nato funeris auctor eris
.[59]

To the fate of the mother will be added that of the wretched babe, and you will be the cause of doom to your yet unborn child. (Ov. Her. VII. 135–136)

The emphatic first positioning of accedet shows the added destruction Aeneas will be caused by his continued absence. This is intensified by the alliteration in matris miserabilis which focuses the reader’s attention on the dreadful pathos of the murdered child. Dido leaves no room for doubt that the blame will fall on Aeneas, funeris auctor eris. She hopes that the fear and shame conveyed by this phrase will change Aeneas’ mind. Wilkinson claims that Ovid’s Heroides shows he was touched ‘by the pathos of childhood’.[60] Ovid understands that this theme creates a universal pathos, and so includes it in many of the heroines’ letters to give their threats weight. Jacobson is horrified by Ovid’s decision to give Dido an unborn child, and describes the idea of Dido thrusting the sword into her pregnant belly as ‘not pathetic but ludicrous’.[61] He also adds that Ovid’s character has lost all the ‘fire and intensity’ because her threat of suicide and infanticide are nowhere near as terrifying as her threats to kill Aeneas and all of his men in the Aeneid.[62] However, I do not believe that this is the point of Dido’s threat. Her aim is Aeneas’ return. She knows that threats to kill Aeneas and his men would be ignored as they have already sailed away. Instead, she turns her threats onto those she can hurt, her unborn child and herself. The women in the Heroides use threats they believe will be successful, which is why so many use the motif of pathetic and abandoned children.

Linked to this theme are the heroines’ threats of harm to their rivals in love. Fuming at Jason’s desertion, Medea warns:

flebit et ardores vincet adusta meos!
dum ferrum flammaeque aderunt sucusque veneni,
hostis Medeae nullus inultus erit
.[63]

[Let her make merry, and lie aloft on the Tyrian purple] — she shall weep, and the flames that consume her will surpass my own! While sword and fire are at my hand, and the juice of poison, no foe of Medea shall go unpunished! (Ov. Her. XII. 180–182)

The promoted positioning of flebit reminds the reader of tucalambis is Oenone’s letter.[64] The tone is very similar, envisioning how the adulteress will regret their ways. Medea imagines a metamorphosis from the metaphorical flames burning her to the flames that will consume Creusa. This is a particularly violent threat. Medea does not stop at burning, she lists a myriad of ways she might harm Creusa, hoping Jason ‘might remember and recognize’ her power and return out fear of what she might do.[65] This threat has the same effect as Phyllis’ list of suicide methods.[66] Both heroines indicate that they have seriously considered these options; the men ignore them at their peril.

Hypsipyle offers an even more terrifying threat. She claims that if Jason and Medea ever visited her she would, paelicis ipsa meos inplessem sanguine vultus… Medeae Medea forem.[67] This threat might motivate someone to stay away, but I believe Hypsipyle’s intention is to force Jason to return by showing the depths her anger has taken her to. She wants him to question: if she can threaten this, what might she do? The vivid word order, meos inplessem sanguine vultus, mimics the action her threat would take, creating a visceral picture. The phrase, Medeae Medea forem has caused a lot of debate, some scholars believing this is a prediction of Medea’s murder of Creusa.[68] I believe that this is actually a reference to Medea’s murder of her brother, who she bloodily tore apart.[69] Hypsipyle is threatening to do the same to Medea. She hopes the memory of this terrifying act will persuade Jason to avoid anything a similarly terrible murder by returning alone. As Fulkerson says Jason ‘by his endlessly repetitive cycle of seduction and desertion, makes women into evil sorceresses’.[70] Both Medea and Hypsipyle threaten Jason with a horrifying portrayal of his future if he stays away, trusting that he will see return as his only viable option.

Finally, the heroines do not always direct their threats at specific people, sometimes they threaten apocalyptic ruin should they remain abandoned. Oenone’s letter, written on the cusp of the Trojan War, is filled with these ominous premonitions. At one point she tries to convince Paris of the merits of her love:

tutus amor meus est; ibi nulla parantur
bella, nec ultrices advehit unda rates
.[71]

Remember, too, my love can bring no harm; it will beget you no wars, nor bring avenging ships across the wave. (Ov. Her. V. 89–90)

The implication is clear, her love brings peace, Helen’s starts wars. This serious accusation is intensified by the emphatic first positioning of bella, looming over the line and Paris’ decision. The letter creates a similar sense of foreboding in Oenone’s long description of Cassandra’s prophecy:

Graia iuvenca venit, quae te patriamque domumque
perdat! io prohibe! Graia iuvenca venit!…
heu! quantum Phrygii sanguinis illa vehit!
[72]

A Greek heifer is one the way, to ruin thee, thy home-land, and thy house! Ho, keep her far! A Greek heifer is coming! While yet ye may, sink in the deep the unclean ship! Alas, how much of Phrygian blood it hath aboard!(Ov. Her. V. 117–120)

The pessimistic exclamations heu and io give Cassandra’s words a sinister feel. However, it is the repetition Graia iuvenca venit, that is meant to catch the reader’s eye. It highlights that this part of her prediction has come true, Grecian Helen has arrived. The reader and Paris are meant to question: if this can come true, what is stopping the rest of the prophecy? The emphatic first positioning of quantum impresses on the reader the endless slaughter the approaching war will bring. Oenone’s support of Cassandra’s threat might be construed as confusing, since everything the cursed prophetess uttered was supposed to be ignored. I agree with Michalopoulos when he claims Oenone is only pretending to believe Cassandra ‘because it serves her cause’.[73] Just like Hypsipyle’s curse, Oenone does not understand how accurate her threats are. Her aim is to present a future so threatening that it will change Paris’ mind.

The final lines of Medea’s letter also contain an ominously ambiguous prediction:

…ingentis parturit ira minas.
quo feret ira, sequar!…
viderit ista deus, qui nunc mea pectora versat!
nescio quid certe mens mea maius agit!
[74]

My ire is in travail with mighty threats. Whither my ire leads, will I follow… Be that the concern of the god who now embroils my heart! Something portentous, surely, is working in my soul! (Ov. Her. XII. 208–212)

This obscure and yet apocalyptic threat has caused a huge debate in scholarship over whether or not Medea knows she is about to kill her children.[75] The question however should be why she decides to leave it so open? We have seen above that Medea is hardly reticent about the various violent methods her revenge could take.[76] As Wilkinson puts it, the aim of the final threat is to tell us: ‘she still has power to hurt, and the audience knows it and shudders’.[77] The repetition of ira shows how Medea is allowing her emotions to take over while the alliteration in mens mea maius captures the mumbling insanity she is descending into. The epistolary form of this communication makes the threat infinitely more powerful than any uttered in a tragic speech. Jason cannot ask Medea about her intentions, to find out her meaning he must return. Medea takes great care in showing how abandonment has made her lose control then leaves Jason and the audience in terrible suspense. She hopes Jason will return before she has to act. She is offering him a choice, one he be would foolish to refuse. The heroines use their pejorative portrayals of the future to show their lovers that the only possible positive outcome is their reunion, hoping this will persuade them into returning.

In his commentary Jacobson claims that the final lines of Heroides XII show ‘Medea is passing from letter-writing to action’.[78] This essay has shown that this claim could be applied to many of the heroine’s letters. The power of the Heroides lies in the fact that they are written in an explosive and captivating snapshot of time. The heroines are portrayed as teetering on the edge of decision. The women feel they know their lovers and so they tailor their threats to what would be most persuasive to each hero. Some believe it is suicide that will draw them home, or perhaps a bleak picture of their destroyed reputation. For others, it is violent acts against those the heroes now hold dear. If these specific threats fail, a few heroines turn to the promise of all-encompassing destruction in an attempt to change their lover’s mind. Every threat is a weapon to fill the lover with fear and doubt. The threats in the Heroides do not fall from the mouths of helpless women; rather they are the net the heroines cast believing it will drag the heroes back to their open and expecting arms.


Endnotes:

[1] Kauffman (1986) 44.

[2] Ov.Her.VIII.121–122.

[3] Ibid.XIII.79–80.

[4] Ov.Her.II.133–142.

[5] Fulkerson (2005) 25; cf.Knox (1995) 112.

[6] Ov.Her.II.45.

[7] Cf.Fulkerson (2005) 27.

[8] Fulkerson ironically suggests she is actually the altera Dido [Ov.Her.VII.17] mentioned by Dido in Heroides VII [Fulkerson (2005) 26].

[9] Cf.Lindheim (2003) 4.

[10] Jacobson (1974) 76.

[11] Ov.Her.VII.181–184. Even in Ovid’s time, Dido was quickly becoming one of the most famous suicides in literature, a fame she still holds today. Perhaps this another reason he focuses on it in Heroides VII.

[12] Ov.Her.VII.187.

[13] Knox (1995) 2001.

[14] Kauffman in Lindheim (2003) 33.

[15] Lindheim (2003) 35.

[16] Michalopoulos (2018) 149.

[17] Ov.Her.VII.183–184.

[18] Rhetorical exercises in which students wrote an argument for a historical or fictional character. Cf.Kauffman (1986) 33.

[19] Jacobson (1974) 84.

[20] Ov.Her.XI.3.

[21] Spentzou (2003), 178.

[22] Ov.Her.II.74.

[23] Ibid.147–148.

[24] Ibid.74.

[25] Ibid.

[26] Ibid.146.

[27] Lindheim (2003) 106.

[28] Ov.Her.VII.27.

[29] Barchesi, trans. Fox (2001) 45.

[30] Ov,Her.VII.63–64.

[31] Ibid.195–196.

[32] Ibid.II.147–148.

[33] Cf.Jacobson (1974) 59.

[34] See Lindheim (2003) 97.

[35] Knox mentions how Hypsipyle’s promise Medeae Medea forem [Ov.Her.VI.162], a quote I return to in greater detail later, could be another threat to a hero’s reputation. By Ovid’s time the name Medea had become a ‘by-word for a sorceress and seductress’ [Knox (1995) 200], shown in Cicero’s reference to Clodia as Palatinam Medeam [Cic.Cael.18] in his Pro Caelio. If one agrees this interpretation, Hypsipyle is threatening that if Jason stays with Medea, his reputation will be tarred with the same soiled brush as the paelicis [Ov.Her.VI.161], he has run off with. She hopes that this premonition will disgust Jason and convince him to return to her.

[36] Ov.Her.V.29–30.

[37] See Ov.Her.V.31.

[38] Ironically it could be argued that Paris’ oath does come true when Achilles blocks the river Xanthus with so many bodies it starts to run backwards [Hom.Il.XXI.305–84].

[39] Fulkerson (2005), 57–58.

[40] Ov.Her.V.75–76.

[41] Knox (1995) 155–156.

[42] Ov.Her.V.105–106.

[43] Ibid.103.

[44] Ov.Her.VI.156–158.

[45] Fulkerson (2005) 63.

[46] Verducci (1985) 59.

[47] Ov.Her.VI.160.

[48] Ibid.163.

[49] Ibid.164.

[50] Ibid.VII.62.

[51] Jacobson (1974) 104.

[52] Ov.Her.I.107–108.

[53] Ibid.VI.62.

[54] Fulkerson (2005) 37.

[55] Ov.Her.I.76–77.

[56] Ibid.VI.126–128.

[57] Ibid.XII.188.

[58] ibid.VI.126.

[59] Ibid.VII.135–136.

[60] Wilkinson (1974) 102.

[61] Jacobson (1974) 82.

[62] Ibid.85; cf.Verg.Aen.IV.600–602.

[63] Ov.Her.XII.180–182.

[64] Ibid.V.103.

[65] Lindheim (2003) 127.

[66] Ov.Her.II.133–142.

[67] Ov.Her.VI.149–151.

[68] Cf.Davis (2012) 41 and Hinds (1993) 30.

[69] Cf.Ov.Her.VI.129–130.

[70] Fulkerson (2005) 53.

[71] Ov.Her.V.89–90.

[72] Ibid.117–120.

[73] Micalopoulos (2018) 148.

[74] Ov.Her.XII.208–212.

[75] Cf.Fulkerson (2005) 51; Lindheim (2003) 128.

[76] Cf.Ov.Her.XII.180–182.

[77] Wilkinson (1974) 117.

[78] Jacobson (1974) 112.


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Welcome to Ostraka: a place to be creative, show off your talent, and collect the shards of knowledge Classics and Ancient History students at Durham have to offer. For submissions please e-mail: classics.society@durham.ac.uk or send us a message on either Facebook or Twitter.

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