Hinds-Décadence-Endversion

ARCO

ORMISANO

HERESE

UHRER

with the assistance of A

NNA

-L

ENA

TOCK

Décadence

“Decline and Fall” or

“Other Antiquity”?

Universitätsverlag

WINTER

Heidelberg

Contents

REFACE

...............................................................................................................

ARCO

ORMISANO

Reading Décadence – Reception and the

Subaltern Late Antiquity ..................................................................................... 7

I. Décadence in Antiquity

HERESE

UHRER

Das Interesse am menschlichen Scheitern –

Antike Konstruktionen des ‚Niedergangs‘ einer Kultur ................................ 19

G

ILLIAN

LARK

: Fragile Brilliance – Augustine, decadence, and

“other antiquity” ................................................................................................ 35

II. Imagining Late Antiquity: Décadence and Modernity

ELMUT

FEIFFER

Flauberts Versuchung der Spätantike ................................ 55

ARLO

ANTINI

„Aus einem Staat, der an einem Sprachfehler

zugrundegegangen ist“ – Musil tardo-antico ...................................................... 77

K

ARIN

CHLAPBACH

“Under the full impact of a catastrophic end” –

Augustine and the fall of Rome in Hannah Arendt’s reading ........................... 97

III. The Fertility of Décadence

ICHAEL

OBERTS

: Friedrich Mehmel, Pompatic Poetics, and Claudian’s

Epithalamium for the Marriage of Honorius and Maria ............................... 115

H

ENRIETTE

ARICH

-S

CHWARZBAUER

: Die ‚Lust‘ der Poesie – ‚Décadence‘ in

den spätantiken Epithalamien (Claudius Claudianus, c. m. 25 und Sidonius
Apollinaris, cc. 10–11; 14–15) ....................................................................... 133

D

ANUTA

HANZER

Incest and Late Antiquity – Décadence? ......................... 149

IV. Reception: Late Antique Poetics

TEPHEN

INDS

‘The self-conscious cento’ ................................................... 171

IGRID

CHOTTENIUS

ULLHED

Proba and Jerome ........................................ 199

TENGER

Der ‚barocke‘ Stil des Ammianus Marcellinus –

Vom heuristischen Nutzen eines folgenreichen Verdikts ............................... 223

É

TIENNE

OLFF

: Quelques jalons dans l’histoire de la réception

de Sidoine Apollinaire .................................................................................... 249

V. Décadence: Good to Think With?

LARIA

L.E.

AMELLI

: Décadence Denounced in the Controversy over

Origen – Giving Up Direct Reading of Sources and Counteractions .............. 263

C

HRISTOPH

ARKSCHIES

: Décadence? Christliche Theologen der Spätantike

über den Verfall von Moral und Glauben seit Kaiser Konstantin ................... 285

A

NDREAS

ANKER

: Decline and Kunstprosa – Velleius Paterculus

and Eduard Norden ......................................................................................... 299

N

OTES ON

ONTRIBUTORS

.............................................................................. 325

NDEX LOCORUM

............................................................................................. 329

1.) Scripture  ...................................................................................  329
2.) Ancient Literature  ....................................................................  329
3.) Medieval and Early Modern Literature  ....................................  339
4.) Modern Literature  ....................................................................  340

NDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM

............................................................................. 341

Stephen Hinds

‘The self-conscious cento’

The cento: for a classical Latin interloper in a conversation about late antique
literature, the choice of topic is almost inevitable. How better to exploit a position
of otherness within such a conversation than by focussing attention upon a catego-
ry of late antique texts which contains no late antique words whatsoever? A cynic
may justly suspect an impulse on the critic’s part to stay within his textual comfort
zone; but perhaps no genre is better equipped than the cento to thematize the mix
of familiarity and strangeness involved in late antique encounters with classical
poetry and poetics – and to offer one kind of limit-case for such encounters.

An opportunistic paper, then, on the cento, a genre which will stand in no

need of any introduction to most readers of this volume. As a quick reminder to
others, this is the remarkable genre of poems, with their main vogue in late an-
tiquity  and  a  continued  hangover  into  the  Renaissance,  in  which  the  poet  con-
structs his (or, as we shall see, her) entire poem out of lines, half lines and one-
and-a-half  lines  of  Virgil  –  or  in  the  Greek  case  of Homer –, ripped from their
original  contexts  and  newly  repurposed,  in  a  cut-and-paste  process  of  extreme
recycling.

Virgil and Homer are the characteristic source-texts in the respective

I was first drawn to the cento by Scott McGill: Virgil Recomposed: The Mythological

and  Secular  Centos  in  Antiquity  (American  Classical  Studies  48),  Oxford/New  York
2005;  two  groups  of  undergraduate  students  emboldened  me  through  their  enthusiasm
for  the  form  when  we  sampled  it  in  a  Latin  402  reading  class  on  receptions  of  Virgil
(Spring 2009 and 2011). Portions of cento material were incorporated into papers given
at Buffalo, Brown and UC Irvine in 2010–2011, at the Classics Triennial in Cambridge
in  July  2011,  and  at  Wisconsin  in  2012;  the  paper  was  delivered  in  more  or  less  its
present form in October 2011 not only in Berlin but also at the Fondation Hardt, Gene-
va. The final product has been improved by feedback at all these venues (not least from
late antique specialists); in the context of this conference volume it is an especial pleas-
ure to record  my thanks  for their  hospitality to Marco Formisano, Therese Fuhrer and
the  Freie  Universität.  I  am  indebted  to  the  generosity  of  the  Lockwood  Foundation,
which has once again supported much of my research for this project.

For the Homeric biblical centos attributed to the Empress Eudocia (d. 460), not dis-

cussed here, see Mark D. Usher: Homeric Stitchings: The Homeric Centos of the
Empress Eudocia, Lanham MD 1998 and Homerocentones Eudociae Augustae, Stutt-
gart/Leipzig 1999; André-Louis Rey (ed.): Patricius, Eudocie, Optimus, Côme de Jé-

172

Stephen Hinds

traditions by virtue of their canonicity: these are the texts, above all others, hard-
wired into the ancient reader’s brain. In its application to literature the term cento
means ‘patchwork-text’; in Latin, as in Greek, the metaphor is of ‘a garment made
of old pieces of cloth stitched together’.

One set of Virgilian centos samples the

master  poet  to  treat  secular  or  mythological  themes;  another  set  samples  him  to
treat  sacred  and  Christian  themes.  My  paper  begins  with  the  most  famous  and
influential  Christian  cento,  in  which  the  fourth  century  female  poet  Proba  retells
key  episodes  from  Genesis,  Exodus  and  the  Gospels  in  about  700  lines  patched
from  the  Eclogues,  Georgics  and  Aeneid;  it  then  moves  on  to  the  much  shorter
Cento Nuptialis of Ausonius, the most celebrated (and most archly self-referential)
of  the  secular  centos;  as  a  small  novelty,  I  conclude  the  specifics  by  tentatively
identifying an in-house acknowledgement of Proba’s poem by Ausonius.

I should start by acknowledging a current wave of work which makes it almost

impertinent  still  to  write  of  the  Latin  cento  as  an  underappreciated  genre.  At  the
centre of this reappraisal stand two monographs, by Scott McGill on the mytholog-
ical  and  secular  centos  in  2005  and  by  Martin  Bažil  on  the  Christian  centos  in
2009, which (along  with a number of recent articles, several of  them cited in the
pages below) combine newly  detailed readings of the poems with a sustained at-
tempt to draw the cento from the margins towards the centre of critical discussion
of poetic intertextuality.

If proof be needed that such rescue and rehabilitation is

needed, it can be found in the fact that each of these monographs includes as an
appendix the entire corpus of centos, secular or Christian, with which it deals:
evidently the classicist’s usual polite assumption that any literary text under discus-

rusalem:  Centons  homériques  (Sources  chrétiennes  437), Paris  1998;  Mary  Whitby:
The  Bible  Hellenized:  Nonnus’  Paraphrase  of  St  John’s  Gospel  and  “Eudocia’s”
Homeric  Centos,  in:  Texts  and  Culture  in  Late  Antiquity,  ed.  by  David  Scourfield,
Swansea 2007, pp. 195–231.

McGill (n. 1), xv n.1; Lewis & Short s.v. cento; cf. LSJ s.v. κέντρων.

McGill (n. 1); Martin Bažil: Centones Christiani: Métamorphoses d’une forme

intertextuelle dans la poésie latine chrétienne de l’Antiquité tardive (Collection des
Études Augustiniennes: Série Moyen Âge et Temps Modernes 47), Paris 2009. The
recent  article  literature has  been  to  the  fore  in  applying  fresh  methodological  per-
spectives  to  the  cento,  both  late  antique  and  more  broadly  theoretical:  see  (pro-
grammatically) Marco Formisano/Cristiana Sogno: Petite poésie portable: The La-
tin Cento in its Late Antique Context, in: Condensing Texts – Condensed Texts, ed.
by  Marietta  Horster/Christine  Reitz  (Palingenesia  98),  Stuttgart 2010, pp. 375–92,
with  bibl.  Early  reference  points  for  this  ‘new  wave’  of  work  on  the  cento  are
Martha Malamud: A Poetics of Transformation: Prudentius and Classical Mytholo-
gy,  Ithaca,  NY  1989,  pp.  35–9  and  p.  41,  and  S.G.  Nugent:  Ausonius’  “Late-
Antique” Poetics and “Post-Modern” Literary Theory, in: Ramus 19 (1990), pp. 26–
50, here: pp. 37–41 (on Ausonius), and Jeffrey T. Schnapp: Reading Lessons: Augus-
tine, Proba, and the Christian Détournement of Antiquity, in: Stanford Literature Re-
view 9 (1992), pp. 99–123 (on Proba).

‘The self-conscious cento’

173

sion has already been read (or at least is already in the reader’s library) cannot in
the case of the cento be taken for granted. Perhaps, then, the fiction of a blind date
with an unfamiliar genre may be maintained here just one more time.

The title of the present volume dictates some preliminary acknowledgement of

the widespread disparagement visited upon the art of the centonist in modern criti-
cism, until the current work just mentioned. If late antique poetry more broadly
was to be condemned for its ‘senile degeneration’ (Herbert J. Rose on the circle of
Ausonius),

what then of the pathologically derivative cento? ‘An affront to litera-

ture’: so D.R. Shackleton Bailey, explaining his exclusion of the cento from the
new Teubner edition of the Anthologia Latina, replacing Riese, in 1982.

Of course, late antique poetry at large is viewed more favourably nowadays

than  it  was  in  Rose’s  day,  thanks  in  part  to  new  readings  which  continue  to
liberate it from inherited prejudices about its derivative or secondary status vis
à vis classical poetry – in some ways the same prejudices which used to be left
uninterrogated  for  Roman  poetry  in  general  vis  à  vis  Greek,  and  for  Silver
Latin poetry vis à vis Golden. With the cento, however, in which every single
phrase is taken verbatim from the same canonical model, it is easy to see why
any  claim  of  originality  within  a  traditional  discourse  may  seem  to  require
extra special pleading;  why  old prejudices about creative degeneration (where
the poetry in question is not altogether ignored) should be harder to shake.

Perhaps the most distinctive contribution of the latest work on the cento is to

reframe the challenge here as one of an excess rather than a dearth of interpreta-
tive interest. If every phrase in such a poem has a counterpart in the same source
text  (a  100%  hit  rate),  what  does  that  do  to  our  protocols  for  reading  across
texts?  If  some  (perhaps  the  majority)  of  the  recycled  phrases  reuse  Virgilian
language  in  ways  that  seem  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  original  Virgilian
context, does that mean that instances where there does seem to be a meaningful
engagement  with Virgilian context  should be seen as mere chance occurrences,
or, even if  intended by  the centonist, as unlikely  to be picked up by the reader
because of the heavy  static coming from all the non-significant intertexts? And
anyway,  can  we  distinguish  a  reuse  which  pointedly  reverses  its  Virgilian  con-

Herbert J. Rose: A Handbook of Latin Literature from the Earliest Times to the Death

of St. Augustine, London 1936, p. 529: ‘The senile degeneration of literature in Auso-
nius’ circle is shown not merely by the feebleness of most of his writings but by the
obvious fact that he was admired for them’; after Gibbon; ‘The poetical fame of
Ausonius condemns the taste of his age’: both passages cited by Michael Roberts: The
Jeweled Style: Poetry and Poetics in Late Antiquity, Ithaca 1989, p. 1, in his influen-
tial call for a new critical beginning for late antique poetry and poetics.

D.R. Shackleton Bailey (ed.): Anthologia Latina 1.1, Stuttgart 1982, p. iii: ‘Centones

Vergiliani (Riese 7–18), opprobria litterarum, neque ope critica multum indigent neque
is sum qui vati reverendo denuo haec edendo contumeliam imponere sustineam’; cited at
McGill (n. 1), p. xvii n. 21.

174

Stephen Hinds

text from a reuse which is simply oblivious to its Virgilian context? Such ques-
tions help to explain the paralysis which the cento has often induced in tradition-
al philologists; but, for a different kind of reader, increasingly to the fore in cento
scholarship, they serve to open a path towards an agreeably postmodern sense of
proliferating intertextual possibility.

In a memorable formulation Scott McGill captures the essence of this inter-

textualist perspective: ‘Because each membrum can be identified as a secondary
Virgilian segment, there is no such thing as an allusively inert verse unit in any
cento’.

Now, postmodern appeals to infinite intertextual play could easily be

used to reinforce the old charge against the centonist of diminished authorial
agency and control, while leaving the reader awash in interpretative overstimula-
tion; the cento as ‘open text’.

But postmodernism also brings new strategies for

sharpening  and  refining  a  sense  of  poetic  authority;  and  these  will  indirectly
inform  my  emphases  here.  My  tactic  in  what  follows  will  be  to  tune  into  the
centonists’ own built-in commentaries on their centos and, more generally, to be
alert for cues in these texts which seem to redirect the reader’s attention from the
literary  to  the  metaliterary:  in  short,  I  shall  seek  in  cento  the  voice  of  centonic
self-consciousness.

First, then, to Proba, probably (though not certainly) identifiable as Faltonia

Betitia Proba, a member of one of the most aristocratic (and most Christian)
families in late imperial Rome, the gens Anicia.

Before we plunge into the

detail of her cento, usually dated to the 350s or 360s, it is perhaps worth empha-
sizing once more the strangeness of this moment in the history of authorship.

McGill (n. 1), p. 25. A footnote here (n. 140) cites Stephen Hinds: Allusion and Inter-

text: Dynamics of Appropriation in Roman Poetry, Cambridge 1998, for ‘the idea that
all allusions are interpretable’, adding the (true) remark, ‘Hinds does not discuss the
centos, however’.

On the accommodation of critical practice to the cento’s ‘space’ of intertextual possi-

bility cf. esp. Bažil (n. 4), pp. 64–5 (in a chapter which navigates intertextualist me-
thodology with a very sure theoretical compass); cf. McGill (n. 1), pp. 27–9.

Bažil (n. 4), p. 68, though giving due notice to ‘la critère de “l’auto-réflexivité”’, may

underestimate its interpretative usefulness for cento.

For a conspectus of the evidence for Proba’s life and work, see Jane Stevenson: Women

Latin Poets: Language, Gender, and Authority from Antiquity to the Eighteenth Century,
Oxford  2005,  pp.  64–71  (quotation  in  my  text  from  p.  69)  and  pp.  532–5,  including
coverage of the view which would give the cento to the granddaughter of the Proba to
whom  it  is  usually  attributed,  dating  it  to  the  390s  rather  than  the  350s  or  360s.  The
champion of the later attribution is Danuta Shanzer: The Anonymous Carmen contra pa-
ganos and the Date and Identity of the Centonist Proba, in: Revue des Études Augustini-
ennes  32  (1986),  pp.  232–48,  whose  arguments  (whether  her  position  be  accepted  or
not) have had an invigorating effect on discussion of Proba and her family; for the most
recent  defence  of  the  traditional  attribution,  see  Alan  Cameron:  The  Last  Pagans  of
Rome, Oxford/New York 2011, pp. 327–37.

‘The self-conscious cento’

175

Proba’s Cento was extraordinarily widely read for centuries: according to Jane
Stevenson in Women Latin Poets ‘there are more manuscripts and editions of the
Cento than of any other single work by a pre-modern woman’. At the same time,
since Proba’s Cento is her only extant work, none of her surviving words are her
own … except for a brief prefatory passage (to be touched on later) in which she
briefly describes her poetic and spiritual intent.

The case of Proba also illustrates the hazards of applying a single interpreta-

tive lens to different kinds of cento. The inherent interest of this text as a late
antique retelling of the Bible (better, an ‘extreme epitome’)

and as an early

document in the history of Christian Latin poetry has always guaranteed it a level
of interest and engagement (and controversy) denied to its pagan counterparts.

All sorts of entailments arise from the fact that Proba’s poem is constructed not
from one but from two canonical texts: philologically, Proba explores the words
of Virgil; theologically, she explores the word of God, in both the Old Testament
and the New. In several ways, then (not least in the area of biblical typology),

‘Extreme epitome’: Formisano/Sogno (n. 4); in their hands a suggestive characterization

of cento form on many levels.

For seminal modern discussions of Proba as biblical epic and as, in other respects too,

an important text in the formation of Christian Latin literature, see Reinhart Herzog:
Die Bibelepik der lateinischen Spätantike, Band I, München 1975, pp. xlix–li and pp.
3–51;  Roger  Green:  Proba’s  Cento:  Its  Date,  Purpose  and  Reception,  in:  Classical
Quarterly 45 (1995), pp. 551–63. On receptions of Proba in her own century, inclu-
ding the famous attack on biblical centos in Jerome, Letter 53.7 (read by most modern
scholars as an attack on Proba specifically), see Scott McGill: Virgil, Christianity and
the  Cento Probae,  in:  Texts  and  Culture  in  Late  Antiquity,  ed.  by  David  Scourfield,
Swansea 2007, pp. 173–93; for important caveats about the role of Jerome in the re-
ception of Proba, see now Schottenius in this volume.

For strict typological correspondence within Proba’s Cento between events from the

Old  and  New  Testaments,  see  e.g.  Elizabeth  A.  Clark/Diane  F.  Hatch:  The  Golden
Bough,  the  Oaken  Cross:  The  Virgilian  Cento of  Faltonia  Betitia  Proba,  Chico  CA
1981,  pp.  161–9;  Karla  Pollmann:  Sex  and  Salvation  in  the  Vergilian  Cento  of  the
Fourth  Century,  in:  Romane  memento:  Vergil  in  the  Fourth  Century,  ed.  by  Roger
Rees, London 2004, pp. 79–96, here: p. 89; for enlargement of the idea of ‘typology’
to  describe  correspondence  between  the  cento  and  its  Virgilian  model,  yielding  (in
effect)  ‘biblical  and  non-biblical  typological  double-exposures’  see,  suggestively,
Sigrid Schottenius: Typology and the Cento of Proba, in: Quaderni Urbinati di Cultu-
ra Classica 95 (2010), pp. 43–51, esp. pp. 45–6 and p. 50, picking up Pollmann (see
above, n. 13), p. 88; cf. Henriette Harich-Schwarzbauer: Von Aeneas zu Camilla. In-
tertextualität im Vergilcento der Faltonia Betitia Proba, in: Jeux de voix: énonciation,
intertextualité et intentionnalité dans la littérature antique, ed. by Danielle van Mal-
Maeder/Alexandre  Burnier/Loreto  Núñez,  Bern  2009,  pp.  331–46;  also  (indirectly)
Stratis Kyriakidis: Eve and Mary: Proba’s Technique in the Creation of Two Different

176

Stephen Hinds

Proba’s cento is a programmatically serious work, while Ausonius’, by his own
account, is a mere jeu. A temporary benefit of the present juxtaposition, however,
may be to surprise us into a sharper sense of Proba’s philological wit; a more Au-
sonian reading of Proba at play.

In this and the following quotations I follow modern convention by setting

out Proba’s text with a line-by-line record below of the verbatim Virgilian
source-texts (Cento Probae 139–44):

vivite felices | interque nitentia culta
fortunatorum nemorum sedesque beatas.
haec domus, haec patria est, | requies ea certa laborum.
his ego nec metas rerum nec tempora pono:
imperium sine fine dedi, | multosque per annos
non rastros patietur humus, non vinea falcem.

139] A. 3.493, G. 1.153. 140] A. 6.639. 141] A. 7.122 (hic domus), 3.393. 142]
A.1.278. 143] A. 1.279, G. 4.208. 144] E. 4.40.

Live  happily  amid  the  flourishing  fields  and  blissful  seats  of  prospering  wooded
glades. This is your home, this is your native land, a sure rest from toil. On this I put
no  finishing  post,  no  limit  of  time:  dominion  without  end  have  I  bestowed.  The
ground will not endure the hoe for many a year, nor vineyard the hook.

About eighty lines into Proba’s treatment of Genesis, God is instructing Adam and
Eve how to conduct themselves on the newly created Earth; let us use this part of
the poem to consider Proba’s processes of centonic composition. How can a re-
sourceful poet ‘patch’ together the Garden of Eden, before the Fall of Man, with
lines and half-lines from Virgil? Well (line 140), on the principle that the closest
Virgilian approach to the Christian paradise will be found in a pagan paradise, she
should first select a segment of the Elysian fields from Aeneid 6. Then (line 141),
to sustain the sense of an idealized God-given environment, she should add a vi-
sionary glimpse of Italy as promised land, both in the achievement (Aeneid 7) and

Female Figures, in: Materiali e Discussioni 29 (1992), pp. 121–53 on Proba’s contrast-
ing centonic treatments of Eve and Mary.

Text of the Cento Probae (incl. signalling of boundaries of Virgilian membra) follows

Carl  [Karl]  Schenkl  (ed.),  Probae  Cento,  in:  Poetae  Christiani  Minores  I  (Corpus
Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum XVI), Prague/Vienna/Leipzig 1888, pp. 511–
609, as (with occasional abridgement) does the cento-apparatus, in which A, G and E
abbreviate  Aeneid,  Georgics  and  Eclogues;  English  translations  lightly  adapt  either
Clark/Hatch (n. 13) or I.M. Plant (ed.): Women Writers of Ancient Greece and Rome:
An Anthology, Norman 2004. I cite the text of Ausonius, Cento Nuptialis from Roger
Green (ed.): The Works of Ausonius, Oxford 1991. For translations of Ausonius and of
Virgil I use or adapt the versions in the Loeb Classical Library.

‘The self-conscious cento’

177

in the promise (Aeneid 3); and she should follow up immediately (142–3) by taking
over some words from the divine promise of Roma aeterna back in Aeneid 1.

Now, these analogies are not happening in cultural isolation. The idea that

Virgil is already himself attuned to the Christian message is a familiar one in this
period, and that idea is an important driver of Proba’s cento. So when in line 144
Proba adds to her description of Eden a glimpse of the classical world’s own myth
of life before the fall, we should note not just the appropriation of the Golden Age
topos of spontaneous vegetative bounty, but the fact that this instance of the topos
comes from the poem in which Virgil had predicted the transformative conse-
quences for the world of the birth of an anticipated and longed-for child, the so-
called ‘Messianic’ Fourth Eclogue, read as a ‘proof’ of Virgil’s access to the
Christian message by a host of readers from Lactantius on;

Proba’s allusion to

the Fourth Eclogue is obligatory and surely programmatic.

The reconstruction above is based upon the assumption that Proba’s work is

more  than  a  matter  of  just  using  Virgil  as  a  repository  of  decontextualized
phrases; and indeed Proba’s ‘patchwork’ does often appear to be sensitive to the
original Virgilian context of her borrowings. But caution reminds us that this is a
cento:  if  the  goal  is  to  find  allusive  sensitivity  to  original  Virgilian  context  in
every line or half-line of Proba’s almost-700-line cento, that  way  may lie  mad-
ness … or maybe not.

Continuing to take stock of the Garden of Eden, let us look at the construction

of the Tree of Knowledge, the starting point for Sigrid Schottenius’ 2010 article,
cited above (cento 148–52):

est in conspectu | ra mis felicibu s arbo s,
quam neque fas igni cuiquam nec sternere ferro,
religione sacra | numquam concessa moveri.
hac quicumque sacros | decerpserit arbore fetus,
morte luet merita: | nec me sententia vertit.

148] A. 2.21, G. 2.81. 149] A. 7.692 (quem). 150] A. 7.608 (sacrae), 3.700. 151] A.
11.591 (sacrum), 6.141. 152] A. 11.849, 1.260 (neque).

There is, in view, a tree with fruitful boughs; to topple it with flame or blade is sacrilege.
On sacred principle it must never be disturbed. Whoever plucks sacred fruit from this
tree shall pay with death deserved: no argument changes my mind.

In a half-line at 151, on the awful consequences of plucking its fruit, the forbidden
tree finds a worthy Virgilian analogue, the Golden Bough, different but compara-

Lactantius, inst. 7.24, quoting Ecl. 4.21–45: cf. Pollmann (n. 13), p. 89 and n. 81;

McGill (n. 12), p. 176 and n. 24.

178

Stephen Hinds

ble in its symbolic weight;

but in a half-line at 148, as the description begins, the

‘tree with fruitful boughs’ is just a regular fruit-tree from Georgics 2. In terms of
‘allusive weight’ Schottenius scores this latter appropriation as ‘not very impor-
tant’, just a convenient source of tree vocabulary for Proba. The emphasis in her
reading falls elsewhere, on the implications of another post-Virgilian tree-moment
a few lines later;

but I would like to plant the suggestion (to which I shall return)

that 148 itself deserves a second look; my interest lies in the fact that in the Geor-
gics these ‘boughs’ are grafted.

It is almost time to meet the Serpent in the Garden; but, before moving on, let

us briefly return to the opening words of the Creator’s speech (139, already quoted)
to see what kinds of question can arise here if we press the idea of readerly sensi-
tivity to the Virgilian contexts of Proba’s Virgilian citations:

vivite felices | interque nitentia culta

When Adam and Eve, within Proba’s Eden, are situated inter […] nitentia culta,
should anything be made of the fact that in their original Georgic context these
‘flourishing fields’ are beset on all sides by weeds and thorns (Geo. 1.152–4)?

[…] subit aspera silva

lappaeque tribolique, in terqu e n iten tia cu lta
infelix lolium et steriles dominantur avenae.

A prickly growth springs up of burs and thistles, and amid the flourishing fields luck-
less darnel and barren oats hold sway.

Do these nitentia culta arrive in Eden context-free, or do they bring some of that
encroaching wilderness with them in a subtextual foreshadowing of Man’s im-
minent Fall? Compare the biblical sequel at Genesis 3.17–8 (God curses Adam):
maledicta terra

[…]

spinas et tribulos germinabit tibi.

So too Proba 243 with Aen. 6.206; cf. Clark/Hatch (n. 13), pp. 148–9, who cite other

Proban passages too to press the case for Golden Bough symbolism.

Schottenius (n. 13), p. 46, on Proba 148 (taking the phrase ‘allusive weight’ from Philip

Hardie: Polyphony or Babel? Hosidius Geta’s Medea and the Poetics of the Cento, in:
Severan Culture, ed. by Simon Swain/Stephen Harrison/Jaś Elsner, Cambridge 2007,
pp. 168–76, here: p. 170); the discussion of Schottenius goes on (pp. 47–8) to treat Pro-
ba 189 in relation to its Virgilian source in Aen. 3.32, the violation of the bleeding tree of
Polydorus, and thence, antiphrastically, to the plucking of the Golden Bough.

(Identical) Latin phrasing in Vetus Latina and Latin Vulgate, picked out in italics in

this quotation from the Revised Standard version of Gen 3.17–8: ‘[…] cursed is the
ground because of you; in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life; thorns and
thistles it shall bring forth to you; and you shall eat the plants of the field.’ As for
Proba’s own ‘sequel’, when more than a hundred lines later she expands Gen 3.17–8

‘The self-conscious cento’

179

A tendentious reading might extend the centonic second-guessing to the first

half of the line too. Do we bring too much Virgilian information to God’s com-
mand  to  Adam  and  Eve  to  ‘live  happily’  (vivite  felices),  if  we  recall  that  in  its
original  context  it  is  addressed  by  Aeneas  in  Aeneid  3  to  some  fellow-Trojans
who  have  settled,  in  their  mimic-Troy  at  Buthrotum,  for  something  rather  less
than the (Edenic) promised land sought by Aeneas himself: is this context rele-
vant or irrelevant to the Proban passage, interpretable or uninterpretable?

Twenty lines later the threat to Eden becomes fully manifest; and no less

manifest is the general tenor of this passage’s inventory of Virgilian citation
(cento 172–82):

iamque dies infanda aderat: | per florea rura
ecce inimicus atrox | immensis orbibus anguis
septem ingens gyros, septena volumina versans
nec visu facilis nec dictu affabilis ulli
obliqua invidia | ramo frondente pependit,
vipeream spirans animam, | cui tristia bella
iraeque insidiaeque et crimina noxia cordi.
odit et ipse pater: | tot sese vertit in ora
arrectisque horret squamis, et, | ne quid inausum
aut intemptatum scelerisve dolive relinquat,
sic prior adgreditur dictis | sese obtulit ultro.

172] A. 2.132, 1.430. 173] G. 1.407, A. 2.204 (angues). 174] A. 5.85 + 5.408. 175] A.
3.621. 176] A. 11.337, 7.67. 177] A. 7.351, 325. 178] A. 7.326. 179] A. 7.327, 328.
180] A. 11.754, 8.205. 181] A. 8.206, 4.415 (e.g.). 182] A. 6.387, 8.611.

And  now  the  unspeakable  day  was  at  hand:  through  the  flowery  fields,  behold:  a
snake, abominable, hostile, with immeasurable coils, with seven spirals vast, twisting
with seven rolls; not easily discerned, not courteous to anyone in speech, it hung with
hate disguised from sprouting branch, breathing a viper’s breath, and in its heart were
bitter wars, anger, plots and guilty  crimes.  The Father himself hated it: so many  are
the faces it assumed, and it bristled with its scales puffed out and, so as not to leave
any  wickedness  or  trickery  undared  or  untried,  it  first  approached  with  speech  and
showed itself of its own accord.

The Serpent in the Garden is a composite of Virgilian snakes, monsters and giants,
including Laocoon’s twin serpents (173), the Cyclops (175), Cacus (180–1) and,
with three adjacent citations, Allecto (177–9);

plus a snake at a shrine (174), plus

a snake in a simile (180). In this passage, then, the general appositeness of the

into cento 252–60, the lappaeque tribolique of Geo. 1.153 do indeed find a place in
her text (257), along with three other ‘patches’ from Geo. 1.151–9.

On the especial emphasis here on Allecto, see Bažil (n. 4), pp. 183–5; Schottenius

(n. 13), p. 48.

180

Stephen Hinds

Virgilian citations is not in doubt. However, a question about interpretative limits
can  still  be  posed,  along  the  following  lines:  is  Proba  merely  lumping  together
Virgilian  passages  which  meet  a  minimum  standard  of  snakiness  or  monstrous-
ness,  or  is  this  a  knowing  synthesis  of  elements  which  distil  the  Aeneid’s  own
epic  systematization  of  chthonic  and  gigantomachic  imagery?

Or something

between the two?

A more oblique (or a more perverse) approach to the Serpent may be made

via the passage which immediately precedes the onset of this threat to the per-
fection of Paradise (cento 163–9):

h ic ver purpureum atqu e a lien ibu s men sibu s a esta s,
hic liquidi fontes, | hic caeli tempore certo
dulcia mella premunt, | hic candida populus antro
imminet et lentae texunt umbracula vites.
invitant croceis halantes floribus horti
inter odoratum lauri nemus | ip saq ue tellus
o mn ia lib eriu s n ullo p oscente fereb at.

163] G. 2.149 (cf. E. 9.40). 164] G. 4.18 (at mut. in hic), 100 (hinc). 165] G. 4.101
(premes), E. 9.41. 166] E. 9.42. 167] G. 4.109 (invitent). 168] A. 6.658, G. 1.127.
169] G. 1.128.

Here spring is rosy, and summer extends to months other than her own; here are flowing
fountains; here at heaven’s determined time sweet honey’s press; here white poplar
overhangs the cave, and supple vines weave together shady places. Breathing with saf-
fron blooms, the gardens attract amid a scented grove of bay, and Earth of her own
accord gave her gifts all the more freely when none demanded them.

In the first verse here (163, with emphases), ten lines before the Serpent enters
the narrative, Proba describes the perfect seasons of Eden in the words used by
Virgil in the Second Georgic to describe the perfect seasons of Italy. Compare
now the original context of the citation (Geo. 2.149–54):

h ic ver assiduum atqu e a lien is men sibu s a esta s:
bis gravidae pecudes, bis pomis utilis arbos.

In modern scholarly terms a Hardiesque systematization, see Philip Hardie: The Epic

Successors of Virgil: A Study in the Dynamics of a Tradition, Cambridge 1993, esp.
pp. 57–87, for schemes of cosmic dualism (esp. Heaven v Hell) in Virgil and in post-
Virgilian  epic.  For  (Claudianic)  examples  of  the  persistence  of  such  schemes  in  the
fourth century cf. Stephen Hinds: Claudianism in the De Raptu Proserpinae, in: Ge-
neric Interfaces in Latin Literature, ed. by Theodore D. Papanghelis/Stephen J. Harri-
son/Stavros  Frangoulidis  (Trends  in  Classics  suppl.  vol.  20),  Berlin  2013,  esp.  pp.
176–80;  add  now  Catherine  Ware:  Claudian  and  the  Roman  Epic  Tradition,
Cambridge 2012, pp. 124–34.

‘The self-conscious cento’

181

at rabidae tigres absunt et saeva leonum
semina, nec miseros fallunt aconita legentis,
nec rapit immensos orbis per humum neque tanto
squameus in spiram tractu se colligit anguis.

Here spring is perpetual, and summer extends to months other than her own; twice a
year the cows calve, twice a year the tree serves us fruit. Here are no ravening tigers
or savage brood of lion; no aconite deceives the wretch who picks it; nor indeed,
sweeping huge coils along the ground, does the scaly snake with his vast train wind
himself into a spiral.

In the laudes Italiae as in Eden, a classic Golden-Age topos: splendid spring,
summer out of season. But here is the twist: in Virgil’s Italy this description of
seasonal perfection leads into four lines on the equally perfect absence of savage
and noxious beasts, culminating in an emphatic two-line exclusion of the snake,
whereas in Proba’s Eden the snake is already in the Garden and will break into
the narrative ten lines later. In other words, the Virgilian line is contextually
inept, but in a way that strongly suggests an apt and deliberate use of intertextual
irony.

At the other end of the same cento passage (168–9, again emphasized), with

the onset of the Serpent now just four lines away, Proba adds to Eden the last of
several images of vegetative bounty drawn from the Georgics.

Once again,

there is no serpent to be found in the corresponding Virgilian landscape; but this
time it turns out to be a pointed case of ‘no serpent … yet’ (Geo. 1.125–9):

ante Iovem nulli subigebant arva coloni:
ne signare quidem aut partiri limite campum
fas erat; in medium quaerebant, ip saq ue tellus
o mn ia lib eriu s n ullo p oscente fereb at.
ille malum virus serpentibus addidit atris.

Before the reign of Jove no tillers subjugated the land: even to mark possession of the
plain or apportion it by boundaries was sacrilege; man made gain for the common
good, and Earth of her own accord gave her gifts all the more freely when none de-
manded them. Jove it was who put the noxious venom into deadly snakes.

Proba’s adaptation acts interestingly, then, upon a Virgilian passage which has given

many readers since Servius pause for thought: on the surprise in the laudes Italiae of a
snake-free Italy, see Richard F. Thomas (ed.): Virgil, Georgics, 2 vols., Cambridge
1988 on Geo. 2.153–4, with David O. Ross: Virgil’s Elements. Physics and Poetry in
the Georgics, Princeton 1987, pp. 117–18.

The presence of the Georgics in Proba’s Cento is considered systematically at Bažil

(n. 4), pp. 143–64.

182

Stephen Hinds

In  the  line  (129)  which  immediately  follows  the  Virgilian  ‘original’  of  Proba’s
image of bounty (127–8), the Age of Saturn is over, the Age of Jove has begun,
and  the  very  first  thing  that  marks  this  fall  from  grace  is  an  infestation  of  …
poisonous snakes. In other words, once again Proba is reading (and asking us to
read) her ostensibly serpent-free citation in context,  with the real allusive point
lurking  in  the  Virgilian  words  just  after  the  ones  cited.  And  in  both  cases  the
resultant subtextual tease yields a sense of Proban playfulness and literary wit.

At this point a caveat may be offered. A case can be made that readings

such  as  those  just  offered  give  a  misleading  impression  of  tidiness;  that,  by
highlighting  some  cento  phrases  over  others,  I  am  indulging  a  philological  in-
stinct to privilege coherence in Proba’s patterns of patching, and to assimilate her
allusive practice to that of a ‘normal’ poet in the Latin hexameter tradition. Here is
one consequence of the sheer intertextual overload faced by the reader of a Vir-
gilian cento: the typical new-wave article or essay rehabilitating the cento tends
to be selective rather than comprehensive in its reading, but that very selectivity
may dodge the central interpretative challenge raised by the cento form. Does a
paper like this one simply skip the less interpretable intertexts? Or can one argue
that Virgil is such a canonical author, with his every line already in Proba’s time
(and certainly in our time) carrying such a freight of interpretation, that there will
always be some way to beat a path towards interpretability from any Virgilian line
or  half-line  whatsoever?  I  pose  this  as  an  open  question;  but,  given  the  current
acceleration in close readings of the cento (both pagan and Christian), the bases for
discussion are even now in flux.

One final foray into Proba’s intertextual Eden. ‘The Serpent beguiled me and

I did eat’: here are the two closing lines of the Serpent’s speech of temptation,
followed by Eve’s fateful tasting of the forbidden fruit (cento 195–202):

‘dux ego vester ero: | tua si mihi certa voluntas,
extruimusque toros dapibusque epulamur opimis.’
sic ait, et dicto citius, | quod lege tenetur,
subiciunt epulis | olim venerabile lignum
instituuntque dapes | contactuque omnia foedant.
praecipue infelix pesti devota futurae
mirataque novas frondes et non sua poma,
causa mali tanti, | summo tenus attigit ore.

195] E. 8.38 (eram), A. 4.125 (7.548). 196] A. 3.224. 197] A. 1.142, 12.819. 198] A.
7.110, 12.767. 199] A. 7.109, 3.227. 200] A. 1.712. 201] G. 2.82. 202] A. 6.93, 1.737.

‘I shall be your guide. If I can be sure of your good will, then we shall pile the couch-
es high and dine on sumptuous feasts.’ It said this, and quicker than its speech, what
was prohibited by law, the once hallowed tree they submitted to their banquets and
began the meal, and defiled everything with their contact. She in particular, the hap-
less woman, devoted to future ruin, admired the new leaves; the fruit (not hers), the
cause of such great sin, she brought to her lips.

‘The self-conscious cento’

183

In 196 the serpent promises Eve a ‘sumptuous feast’; in 199 Proba tells us that this
feast, once begun, brings the taint of universal corruption: but for an alert reader
the biblical consequence was already encoded in the first Virgilian citation: 196
and 199 are ‘before’ and ‘after’ moments from the attack of the food-defiling Har-
pies in Aeneid 3.

However, my focus is on the first line here quoted, Cento Probae 195, in

which (as in 196, albeit less directly) the Virgilian terms of the serpent’s invita-
tion may already offer some intimation of the imminent Fall. Here in context
(Eclogue 8.37–41) is the original for the first half of 195:

saepibus in nostris parvam te roscida mala
(d u x ego vester era m) vidi cum matre legentem.
alter ab undecimo tum me iam acceperat annus,
iam fragilis poteram a terra contingere ramos:
ut vidi, ut perii, ut me malus abstulit error!

Within our garden hedge I saw you (I was your guide), a little child with your mother,
gathering dewy apples. My eleventh year ended, the next had just greeted me; from
the ground I could now reach the frail boughs. In the moment I saw you I lost my
heart, and a fatal error swept me away!

Line 195a dux ego vester ero; Ecl. 8.38 dux ego vester eram (Proba not in-
frequently departs from centonic strictness to tweak an inflected form).

the immediate Virgilian context the girl thus guided, like Eve, is picking
tree-fruit. More than that, the result (not for the picker, in this case, but for
the speaker of the vignette) is utter ruin and specifically a malus error, with a
pun in the Virgil between malus and māla; in the Eclogue as in Eden, the fall
of (a) man caused by the picking of a tree-fruit. As often in Proba’s cento,

alertness to adjacent Virgilian context is arguably confirmed by a later
‘patch’: at 242 Adam will cite Ecl. 8.41 (malus error etc.) as he replays this
scene in his confession to God.

Now, in context (Aen. 4.124–8), the Virgilian original for the second half of

the same line, cento 195b:

‘speluncam Dido dux et Troianus eandem
devenient. adero et, tua si mihi certa voluntas,
conubio iungam stabili propriamque dicabo;
hic hymenaeus erit.’ non adversata petenti
adnuit atque dolis risit Cytherea repertis.

Bažil (n. 4), pp. 187–8.

Cf. the arguably complementary quotations from Geo. 1.153 at Proba 139 and 257

(n. 18 above).

184

Stephen Hinds

‘To the same cave shall come Dido and the Trojan chief. I will be there and, if I can
be sure of your good will, will link them in sure wedlock, sealing her for his own; this
shall be their bridal!’ Yielding to her suit, the Cytherean gave assent and smiled at the
guile discovered.

‘If  your  good  will  towards  me  is  sure’,  tua  si  mihi  certa  voluntas:  a  generic-
sounding  phrase;  indeed  (as  the  cento-apparatus  indicates)  a  phrase  found  not
once  but  twice  in  the  Aeneid.  But  in  the  Aen.  4.125  original  privileged  by
Schenkl (rightly so, in formal terms),

the speaker is Juno, and these words seal

a pact of supernatural bad faith whose purpose is to mislead a human couple into
making  a  fatally  bad  choice  (not  Adam  and  Eve  but  Aeneas  and  Dido).  If  the
cento  phrase  itself  is  thematically  colourless,  then,  its  Virgilian  ‘back  story’
accesses a(nother) cautionary tale of a man and woman derailed by supernatural
misdirection.  Effective  corroboration  of  Proba’s  interest  in  the  context  of  her
citation is again available, as close as line 200, ‘patched’ from an earlier descrip-
tion of the divine  manipulation of Dido’s  will back in Aeneid 1; an association
underwritten (on this argument) by a narrative arc across three books in the mod-
el text.

So just how self-aware is Proba’s cento poetry? Well, Proba’s status as a

woman,  and  the  fact  that  her  only  surviving  work  is  written  entirely  in  the
words  of  another,  can  lead  a  negative  critic  to  label  her,  disparagingly,  as  a
writer  of  diminished  consciousness,  a  sort  of  real-life  Ovidian  Echo,  with  no
independent power to initiate utterance; she can thus attract an extreme form of
those  broader  critical  anxieties  (pertinent  to  the  present  volume)  about  the
perceived  derivativeness  of  late  antique  verse  relative  to  its  classical  models.
But perhaps the time is right to embrace the contrary position, namely that, in a
culture in which literary consciousness is centrally defined by the dynamics of
literary appropriation, the composition of a cento like Proba’s may presuppose
an author with an especially highly developed consciousness.

To press that idea for a moment, let me take another look (as promised) at the

opening verse of Proba’s description of the Tree of Knowledge (cento 148):

est in conspectu | ra mis felicibu s arbo s

Back in my earlier quotation of this passage, I registered the consensus which
reads a symbolic charge into Proba’s appropriation just below of a half-line from

Consider again cento 195 dux ego vester ero: | tua si mihi certa voluntas. When 195b is

traced to Aen. 4.125 devenient. adero et, tua si mihi certa voluntas, the words immedia-
tely  preceding  the  ‘patch’  (adero  et)  offer  a  kind  of  formal  overlap  with  195a  (ad-
ero/ero), and even serve to mitigate Proba’s alteration of eram to ero in her citation of
the  Ecl.  8.38  original;  Aen.  7.548  offers  nothing  comparable.  For  ‘mots  communs’
between adjacent quotations in Proba’s Cento cf. Bažil (n. 4), p. 191.

‘The self-conscious cento’

185

the Golden Bough of Aeneid 6, while it has nothing to say about her appropria-
tion here of a half-line from a grafted fruit-tree in Georgics 2 (80–2, at 81):

[…] nec longum tempus, et ingens

exiit ad caelum ra mis felicibu s arbo s,
miratastque novas frondes et non sua poma.

[…] and in a little while a mighty tree with fruitful boughs shoots up skyward, and
marvels at its strange new leafage and fruits not its own.

But what more suggestive programmatic image could there be for Proba’s post-
Virgilian remake of the Tree of Knowledge than the image of an old Roman tree
stock which by a process of cutting and slipping is made to bear a new and alien
fruit? Itur in antiquam silvam, as Virgil himself might say.

Cento as the art of post-Virgilian grafting?

Perhaps: such arch self-

referentiality, not usually thought of as proper to Proba, would be an easy sell if
we were considering (as we will shortly) the case of Ausonius.

Now, whereas Ausonius’ cento has come down to us introduced by a wide-

ranging epistle from the author, in prose, on his literary aims and methods, Proba’s
55-line programmatic preface is in verse, and almost from the outset is itself drawn
into the stylized utterance of the cento form. I observed earlier the striking fact that
her preface offers the only surviving words by Proba which are not by Virgil;

but

an immediate qualification is necessary. Right from the first sentence of the pre-
face on, some Virgil is folded in; and even as Proba explains her poetic principles,
the density of Virgilian allusion grows, reaching near-cento in lines 24-8. The
second half of the preface is in full Virgilian cento, well before Proba embarks at
line 56 on the beginning of Genesis (principio

[…]

Proba’s preface has been much discussed:

I will focus here on just two

details. Here first, with Schenkl’s Virgilian ‘apparatus’, are the opening verses
(cento 1–8):

Something to add to Dunstan Lowe: The Symbolic Value of Grafting in Ancient Rome,

in:  Transactions  of  the  American  Philological  Association  140  (2010),  pp.  461–88
(with a  coda on tree-lore in the Vitae Vergilianae); esp. suggestive  for a  metapoetic
approach  is  the  case  of  Palladius,  De  insitione:  Marco  Formisano:  Veredelte  Bäume
und  kultivierte  Texte:  Lehrgedichte  in  technischen  Prosawerken  der  Spätantike,  in:
Wissensvermittlung in dichterischer Gestalt, ed. by Marietta Horster/Christiane Reitz
(Palingenesia 85), Stuttgart 2005, pp. 295–312. esp. pp. 300–2.

Note that the Cento Probae, as we have it, is preceded in many manuscripts by a later

non-centonic verse preface evidently addressed to the Emperor Arcadius, not by Proba
herself, probably belonging to the 390s: discussion in McGill (n. 12).

Seminal is Roger Green: Proba’s Introduction to her Cento, in: Classical Quarterly

47 (1997), pp. 548–59; extended treatment in Bažil (n. 4), pp. 115–41.

186

Stephen Hinds

iam dudum temerasse duces pia foedera pacis,
regnandi miseros tenuit quos dira cupido,
diversasque neces, regum crudelia bella
cogn ata sq ue a cies, pollutos caede parentum
insignis clipeos nulloque ex hoste tropaea,
sanguine conspersos tulerat quos fama triumphos,
innumeris totiens viduatas civibus urbes,
confiteor, scripsi: satis est meminisse malorum.

2] G. 1.37 regnandi … dira cupido. 5] G. 3.32 diverso ex hoste tropaea. 7] A. 8.571
tam multis viduasset civibus urbem.

Long ago, I confess, I wrote of leaders who had violated sacred vows of peace –
wretched men caught by a dread desire to rule – and various killings, kings’ cruel
wars and families in battle-lines, illustrious shields stained by parents’ blood and tro-
phies taken from no enemy, triumphs splattered with blood which fame had brought,
cities widowed so often of countless citizens: it is enough to remember these evils.

Remember that, to put the matter starkly, we have fewer than 30 lines of ever-
diminishing non-Virgilianism, before the cento closes in, in which to find out
what other Latin poetic influences might be operative upon Proba.

Before she

found  a  better  poetic  path,  it  seems,  Proba  wrote  epic  verse  about  wars  of
kings, about relatives under arms. And, consonantly with this, the first half of
the fourth line (see emphases) offers one possible answer to the question about
influence:  when Proba’s Latin is not by Virgil it is ... by Lucan.  cognatasque
acies: not just a verbatim Lucanian hemistich but, in Lucan’s epic too, the first
half  of  the  fourth  line.  The  point  has  not  escaped  notice.

Perhaps we may

identify this as a case of what Llewelyn Morgan has called ‘stichometric inter-
textuality’:

such an effect seems right for the sensibility of a centonist.

Starkly put, but a little disingenuously. One of the most striking insights of new-wave

cento criticism has been Scott McGill’s demonstration that a poem consisting wholly
of Virgilian words is still capable of giving access to a non-Virgilian model: McGill
(n. 1), pp. 40–6, on the felt presence of Ovid and Seneca in Geta’s Virgilian cento
Medea.

Adducing detailed parallels, including this one, Green (n. 28), p. 550, points out the

‘obvious general resemblance to Lucan’s Pharsalia, especially his proem, in lan-
guage, style, and tone’, noting that even the seven-line structure of Lucan’s opening
seems to have left its imprint on Proba’s; cf. already Shanzer (n. 10), p. 233 n. 5, sug-
gesting also a secondary reference in line 4 to the incipit of Statius’ Thebaid (frater-
nas acies […]). In the subsequent movement of the preface Bažil (n. 4), pp. 121–3,
finds a foil to this pattern of Lucanian allusion in a Proban conversation with a more
recent, and Christian, poetic predecessor, Iuvencus.

‘Stichometric intertextuality’: Llewelyn Morgan: Patterns of Redemption in Virgil’s

‘Georgics’, Cambridge 1999, pp. 23–7 and pp. 223–6; cf. Hinds (n. 7), p. 92 and n. 80.

‘The self-conscious cento’

187

My second quotation from the preface includes the famous line (23) in which

Proba sets out her relationship with Virgil, also notable as the last wholly non-
Virgilian verse in the poem (cento 22–8):

hinc canere incipiam. praesens, deus, erige mentem;
Verg iliu m cecinisse loq ua r p ia mun era Ch risti:
rem nulli obscuram | repetens ab origine pergam,
si qua fides animo, si vera infusa per artus
mens agitat molem et toto se corpore miscet
spiritus et quantum non noxia corpora tardant
terrenique hebetant artus moribundaque membra.

22] G. 1.5 hinc canere incipiam. 24] A. 11.343, 1.372. 25 sq.] A. 3.434 si qua fides,
animum si veris implet Apollo, A. 6.726 sq. totamque infusa per artus mens agitat mo-
lem et magno se corpore miscet. 27 sq.] A. 6.726 spiritus 731 sq. quantum non noxia
corpora tardant terrenique hebetant artus moribundaque membra.

Here I will begin to sing. God be present, lift up my mind: I shall tell that Virgil sang of
the holy gifts of Christ: and repeating a theme obscure to no one I will proceed from the
beginning, if there is any faith in my heart, if flowing through my joints the true mind
moves my effort and the Spirit mixes itself with my whole body, and insofar as harmful
elements do not impede, and no dullness come from earthbound joints and limbs imbued
with death.

The exact phrasing of this line is very important to theologians, in the context of
late antique Christian debate about the proper use of pagan literature (including
most notably Jerome’s famous polemic against centos).

What Proba writes is not

‘I shall make pagan Virgil sing the word of God’ but ‘I shall say that Virgil always
already sang the word of God’. Proba is buying into the idea of proto-Christian
Virgil: the goal of her cento is not to give a new intent to Virgil’s poetry, but,
through an edit, to clarify the intent that was already immanent in Virgil’s poetry.

For my metapoetic take-away from this passage, however, I want to consider

not line 23 but lines 25–8. In a near-cento of Anchises’ Pythagorean language in
Aeneid  6  about  the  confinement  of  souls  in  flawed  mortal  bodies,  Proba  hopes
that  her  own  flawed  earthly  limbs,  through  the  infusion  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  can
worthily  proclaim  the  word  of  God.  But  I  think  there  may  be  another  way  of
reading of lines 25–8 too, triggered by the metapoetic suggestiveness of the word
membra (line 28): Proba hopes not just that her own flawed earthly limbs but that

A point emphasized also by Bažil (n. 4), p. 119. In the quotation below I supplement

Schenkl’s Virgilian apparatus for lines 24 and 25, after Green (n. 28), pp. 556–7, and
(again with Green) accept Schenkl’s si vera infusa as a repair for distorted MSS read-
ings in line 25.

See again the references in n. 12. For the distinctive position taken by Proba in line 23

cf. Pollmann (n. 13), pp. 87–8.

188

Stephen Hinds

the flawed earthly ‘membra’ of Virgil’s hexameters can worthily proclaim the
word of God.

That is to say, the very words in which Proba christianizes An-

chises’ pagan eschatology are made to express some worry about whether these
Virgilian words are too spiritually compromised to get the job done. The subtext
adds a note of quiet anxiety to the confident statement of Virgil’s Christian au-
thority just above in line 23, and in more general terms evokes and complicates a
world of imagery, first pagan but then urgently Christian, of book and body,
word and flesh.

And so to Ausonius, playful poet and considerable politician of late antique

Bordeaux and Trier, whose varied literary œuvre includes a cento of some 130
lines, written a few years after Proba’s (on the more usual dating for the latter).
Ausonius evidently reacts to and plays with an existing tradition of cento; but
Proba’s Christian poem is generally not seen as directly impinging upon Ausoni-
us’ secular one.

What the Gallic poet offers, famously, is a nuptial cento: this is a wedding

poem – an epithalamium – cut and pasted (again) from lines and part-lines of
Virgil. Ausonius tells us that he wrote the cento on a challenge from the emperor
Valentinian (a dabbler in cento-composition himself, it seems); the occasion to
be marked was evidently the wedding of the emperor’s son Gratian in or around
374 AD.

A selective look, first, at the much-discussed framing epistle and apology ad-

dressed (some years later) to Axius Paulus, in which Ausonius describes how he
came to write the poem, and offers some overt discussion of his cento methodol-
ogy:

perlege hoc etiam, si operae est, frivolum et nullius pretii opusculum, quod nec la-
bor excudit nec cura limavit, sine ingenii acumine et morae maturitate. centonem
vocant qui primi hac concinnatione luserunt. solae memoriae negotium sparsa col-

OLD s.v. membrum 5c. The same general approach to 25–8 is already taken by Bažil

(n.  4), p.  121;  the  suggested  word-play  adds  corroboration  and  point  to  his  reading.
The word membrum haunts the programmatics of the cento. For McGill (n. 1), p. 10,
Ausonius’  description  of  the  collecting  and  fitting  together  of  Virgil’s  ‘strewn  and
mangled’ verse units in the epistolary preface of the Cento Nuptialis (solae memoriae
negotium sparsa colligere et integrare lacerata, quoted in my text below) is implicitly
dependent upon the multivalence of this word, i.e. sparsa et lacerata [membra]; later
in Ausonius’ preface lie analogies from mythological dismemberment and reconstitu-
tion (also noticed below).

McGill (n. 1), p. 1 n. 3. For fruitful and suggestive juxtaposition of Proba and Auso-

nius in modern criticism, see esp. Pollmann (n. 13). The idea of allusive gesturing to
Proba in Ausonius is raised and rejected at ibid., pp. 92 and n. 102.

Green (n. 14), p. 518; McGill (n. 1), pp. 92–4.

Extended discussion in McGill (n. 1), pp. 1–30; cf. Pollmann (n. 13), pp. 80–3.

‘The self-conscious cento’

189

ligere et integrare lacerata, quod ridere magis quam laudare possis. pro quo, si per
Sigillaria in auctione veniret, neque Afranius naucum daret neque ciccum suum
Plautus offerret. piget equidem Vergiliani carminis dignitatem tam ioculari dehone-
stasse materia.

Read through this also, if it is worthwhile – a trifling and worthless little book, which
no pains have shaped nor care polished, without a spark of wit and that ripeness which
deliberation gives. Those who first sported with this form of compilation call it a
‘cento’. It is a task for the memory only, to collect what is scattered and to piece to-
gether what is mangled, and is more likely to provoke your laughter than your praise.
If it were put up for auction at the market of the Sigillaria, Afranius would not give
his straw, nor Plautus bid his husk. Indeed it is vexing to have Virgil’s majestic verse
degraded with such a comic theme.

Unlike Proba, whose attitude to Virgil seems as high-minded as the Christian pur-
pose he is there to serve, Ausonius represents his cento as being in the business,
however apologetically, of debasing or degrading his great model (dehonestasse, at
the end of the quotation). From the outset, his epistle rolls out the time-honoured
vocabulary of poetic self-depreciation: this opusculum is produced without labor,
without cura, without the file’s fine finish; the history of cento is a history of lusus,
mere trifling.

After some discussion of the imperial pressures which forbade Ausonius to

steer clear of the enterprise, the epistle goes on to characterize the formal chal-
lenges of cento, blending matter-of-fact technical discussion with some striking
uses of analogy:

accipe igitur opusculum de inconexis continuum, de diversis unum, de seriis ludicrum,
de alieno nostrum, ne in sacris et fabulis aut Thyonianum mireris aut Virbium, illum
de Dionyso, hunc de Hippolyto reformatum.

So accept a little work, continuous, though made of disjointed tags; one, though of di-
verse pieces; absurd, though of grave materials; mine, though another’s; lest you
should wonder at the accounts given by priests or poets of the Son of Thyone or of
Virbius – the first reshaped out of Dionysus, the second out of Hippolytus.

Here is the work of cento construction: to connect the unconnected, to bring
diverse elements together into oneness (cf. just below variis de locis sensi-
busque diversis), to make a new body, or a new version of the same body, out
of violently dispersed limbs

– an image, perhaps, to set alongside those mori-

bunda […] membra in the preface of Proba. Further on, the analogy shifts to

See Hardie (n. 17), p. 171, for a finely nuanced discussion of this analogy.

190

Stephen Hinds

invoke a kind of mathematical game which involves the fitting together, or in
unsuccessful cases the misfitting, of geometric puzzle-pieces made of bone:

harum verticularum variis coagmentis simulantur species mille formarum: elephantus
belua aut aper bestia, anser volans et mirmillo in armis, subsidens venator et latrans
canis […]. sed peritorum concinnatio miraculum est, imperitorum iunctura ridiculum.
quo praedicto scies quod ego posteriorem imitatus sum.

By fitting these pieces together in various ways, pictures of countless objects are pro-
duced: a monstrous elephant or brutal boar, a goose in flight and a gladiator in ar-
mour, a huntsman crouching down and a dog barking […] But while the harmonious
arrangement of the skilful player is marvellous, the conjunction made by the unskilled
is grotesque. This having been said, you will know that I am like the second kind of
player.

And  so  to  the  nuptial  cento  itself;  my  main  focus  will  be  on  a  passage  in  the
middle of the poem (lines 68–70). First, however, to establish the festive mood
of the cento’s early  sections, here (with  minimal comment) is part of the scene
subtitled Descriptio egredientis sponsae (c. Nupt. 33–40):

tandem progreditur | Veneris iustissima cura,
iam matura viro, iam plenis nubilis annis,
virginis os habitumque gerens, | cui plurimus ignem
subiecit rubor et calefacta per ora cucurrit,
intentos volvens oculos, | uritque videndo.
illam omnis tectis agrisque effusa iuventus
turbaque miratur matrum. | vestigia primi
alba pedis, | dederatque comam diffundere ventis.

33] A. 4.136, 10.132. 34] A. 7.53. 35] A. 1.315, 12.65. 36] A. 12.66. 37] A. 7.251, G.
3.215. 38] A. 7.812. 39] A. 7.813, 5.566. 40] A. 5.567, 1.319.

At length comes forth Venus’ most lawful charge, now ripe for a husband, now of full
age for marriage, wearing a maiden’s look and garb, over whose flushed cheeks a
deep blush spreads, suffusing fire, while round she throws her eager eyes and inflames
all with her gaze. At her the whole company of youths, gathered from house and field,
and throng of matrons marvel. Her advancing foot as she trod showed white, her hair
she had given to the winds to spread abroad.

Stomachion or ostomachion, a game associated with Archimedes: Green (n. 14), ad

loc., McGill (n. 1), pp. 8–9 and pp. 20–1. A forthcoming paper by Martha Malamud:
Double double: two African Medeas (on Hosidius Geta and Dracontius), touches on
the implications for Ausonius’ analogy of new mathematical findings about the game
in the 10

century Archimedes Palimpsest.

‘The self-conscious cento’

191

Here comes the bride, with echoes in these lines of Dido, Lavinia, Venus disguised
as a huntress, Lavinia (again), Camilla and (again) the disguised Venus: she is a
composite of Virgilian goddesses, queens, mothers and maidens … and, oddly
enough, enjambed across lines 39 and 40, one (male) horse with a very fine fore-
leg.

The whole cento is an epithalamium; but at line 67, more or less exactly at its

halfway  point,  Ausonius  proceeds  to  recount  the  singing  of  the  epithalamium-
proper by the wedding chorus. So this is in a real sense the core of the poem, the
nuptial  song  within  the  nuptial  song,  addressed  to  the  imperial  bride  and  groom,
and duly subtitled Epithalamium utrique (c. Nupt. 67–74):

tum studio effusae matres | ad limina ducunt.
at chorus aequalis | pueri innuptaeque puellae
versibu s in comptis ludun t | et carmina dicunt:
‘o dig no con iun cta viro , | gratissima coniunx,
sis felix, | primos Lucinae experta labores,
et mater. cape Maeonii carchesia Bacchi.
sparge, marite, nuces, | cinge haec altaria vitta,
flos veterum virtusque virum: | tibi ducitur uxor’

67] A. 12.131, 10.117. 68] G. 4.460, A. 6.307. 69] G. 2.386, A. 6.644. 70] E. 8.32, A.
10.607. 71] A. 1.330, G. 4.340. 72] G. 4.380. 73] E. 8.30, 8.64. 74] A. 8.500, E. 8.29.

Then eagerly pressing forth, the matrons lead the pair to the threshold; but the company
of their peers, boys and unwedded girls, disport in unkempt verses, and thus they sing:
‘O  you  that  are  joined  with  a  worthy  lord,  bride  most  welcome,  may  you  be  blessed
when  you  have  felt  Lucina’s  first  pangs  and  are  a  mother.  Take  goblets  of  Maeonian
wine. Scatter the nuts, bridegroom! Wreathe round these altars with fillets, you flower
and excellence of men of old: for you they bring the bride’

Consider  the  set-up  for  this  ‘inner’  song  (68–9  above, including the  first of the
two  half-lines  with  emphases):  ‘But  the  company  of  their  peers,  boys  and  un-
wedded  girls,  playfully  sing  in  unkempt  verses  (versibus  incomptis  ludunt)’.
Who does this sound like? Like Ausonius, of course, who in the framing epistle
(as  quoted  earlier)  describes  his  own  cento  as  a  piece  of  lusus,  and  as  lacking
labor, cura and the polish of the file; the metaliterary ‘mirroring’ is well flagged
by Karla Pollmann.

But now let us take things a step further.

As a further antidote to the seductions of allusive tidiness, note that the composite

bride also takes traits in these lines from  Ascanius and Latinus; and the femina who
‘inflames’ (urit) at Geo. 3.215, the source of line 37b, is of course a heifer, albeit  a
strongly anthropomorphized one (interesting thoughts on this line’s interpretability at
McGill [n. 1], p. 98 n. 36).

Pollmann (n. 13), pp. 85–6: ‘The mirroring of the cento as a whole in the Epithalamium

is also visible from the statement that the young men and women ‘sing playfully in un-

192

Stephen Hinds

In the original Virgilian context of the first half of line 69 (versibus incomptis

ludunt), who are the singers who play in unkempt verses (Geo. 2.385–6)?

nec non Ausonii, Troia gens missa, coloni
versibu s in comptis ludun t risuque soluto.

Even so Ausonia’s swains, a race sent from Troy, disport in unkempt verses and
laughter unrestrained.

The answer, emphasized above: they are Ausonii […] it is the centonist’s poetic
signature! More than that, they are Ausonii coloni, not just ‘cultivators’ but ‘colo-
nists’ (and what is a cento but a ‘colony’ of resettled texts?). And these coloni are
‘a race sent from Troy’, just as most of the cento’s ‘resettled’ verses come from an
epic about Troy (… and about Trojan resettlement).

Not just cento, then, but Ausonian meta-cento: Virgil’s favourite name for the

ancient Italians elicits, for his successor, nothing less than an encrypted sphragis.

Hardly less noteworthy in their intertextual suggestiveness, perhaps, are the

opening words of the chorus’s ‘inner epithalamium’, now introduced (c. Nupt. 70
above, again with emphases): ‘o digno coniuncta viro […]’, an apt compliment
for the young imperial groom and his bride.

Compare the original Virgilian

context in the Eighth Eclogue (26–32):

Mopso Nysa datur: quid non speremus amantes?
iungentur iam grypes equis, aevoque sequenti
cum canibus timidi venient ad pocula damnae.
Mopse, novas incide faces: tibi ducitur uxor.
sparge, marite, nuces: tibi deserit Hesperus Oetam.
incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus.
o dig no con iun cta viro , dum despicis omnes […]

To Mopsus is Nysa  given! For what  may  we lovers not look? Griffins now shall be
joined with mares, and, in the age to come, the timid deer shall come with hounds to
drink.  Mopsus,  cut  the  new  torches!  For  you  they  bring  the  bride!  Scatter  the  nuts,
bridegroom! For you the evening star quits Oeta!
  Begin with me, my flute, a song of Maenalus!
O you that are joined with a worthy lord, even while you scorn all men […]

polished verse’ […] echoing in a self-referential way Ausonius’ characterisation of
the weakness of his cento’.

Note that while Ausonia and its cognates occur some 40 times in the Aeneid, Ausonius

has ‘found’ here the sole instance of his namesake ethnic nomenclature in the Georgics.

An aptness underscored by a pun in the second half of the line: Constantia, the

imperial bride, is gratissima coniunx, that is, right for Gratianus (in Virgil, the refe-
rence is to Juno.).

‘The self-conscious cento’

193

Here too, the speech is (quasi-)epithalamial; but in this instance the half-line (end
of passage, Ecl. 8.32, with emphases) is spoken with a bitterly ironic tone, in the
mouth of an alienated observer who feels that the couple in his poem are any-
thing but well-joined. Hence that stark adynaton five lines earlier, in 27: iungen-
tur nunc grypes equis.

Received wisdom offers the following interpretative possibilities:
(1) We are not supposed to think of the Virgilian context of the borrowed

half-line (but Ausonius uses two other half-lines from the same passage three
and four lines later

(2) We should just tacitly admire Ausonius’ ability (as advertised in the fram-

ing epistle) to redirect a Virgilian phrase into non-Virgilian meaning (variis de
locis sensibusque diversis).

In this case, however, just adjacent to his hidden programmatic ‘signature’, I

believe that Ausonius wants us to think a bit harder about the vocabulary of junc-
ture  itself.  Are  Virgil’s  couple  well-joined  …  or  not?  And,  to  press  the  recycled
phrase  into  self-referentiality,  does  the  citation  of  Virgil’s  marital  ‘conjunction’
yield  in  Ausonius  an  unworthy  and  ill-fitting  centonic  conjunction  –  because  the
match between Gratian and his bride is not, like the match between Virgil’s origi-
nal couple, unworthy and ill-fitting?

And that can make us entertain an idea which would be available even with-

out this moment of mise en abîme. Is there a similar form-and-content point to be
made about the very choice of a marriage-song as the theme for a cento? A poem
containing matches of one cento-phrase with another (which can turn out to be a
good fit or a bad fit) takes as its theme the ‘matching’ of one person with another
(which can turn out to be a good fit or a bad fit). The epithalamium enjoys a
surge in late antique literature:

Ausonius’ cento may here have made that genre

a little more self-conscious.

And so to bed, after a Parecbasis in which Ausonius warns his readers of

the Fescennine ribaldry ahead, which will lead to blushes not just for his own
modesty but for Virgil’s too ([…] qui et Vergilium faciamus impudentem). A
full survey of the famously explicit wedding-night scene at the end of the

Sparge, marite, nuces (Cent. Nupt. 73; Virg. Ecl. 8.30); tibi ducitur uxor (Cent. Nupt.

74; Virg. Ecl. 8.29): see passage quotations in text above.

Epithalamium in late antique Latin literature: Sabine Horstmann: Das Epithalamium in

der lateinischen Literatur der Spätantike, München/Leipzig 2004, including pp. 290–
301 on the (in some ways oblique) relationship of Ausonius’ cento to the tradition; and
see now Harich-Schwarzbauer in the present volume.

This paragraph’s suggestion perhaps invites comparison with the move at Hardie (n. 17),

p. 175, to read the dismembered and fragmented Absyrtus in Hosidius Geta’s cento
Medea as a figure of centonic self-consciousness.

194

Stephen Hinds

Cento Nuptialis (101–31) is beyond the brief of this article;

but a representa-

tive glimpse may help to set up a couple of final thoughts about poetological
framing (105–12):

[…] | ramum, qui veste latebat,

sanguineis ebuli bacis minioque rubentem
nudato capite | et pedibus per mutua nexis,
monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum,
eripit a femore et trepidanti fervidus instat.
est in secessu, | tenuis quo semita ducit,
ignea rima micans; | exhalat opaca mephitim.
nulli fas casto sceleratum insistere limen.

105b] A. 6.406. 106] E. 10.27. 107] A. 12.312, 7.66. 108] A. 3.658. 109] A. 10.788.
110] A. 1.159, 11.524. 111] A. 8.392, 7.84. 112] A. 6.563

[…]  the  rod  lurking  within  his  garment,  crimsoned  with  blood-red  elderberries  and
vermilion, its head laid bare (as their legs together entwined), a shocking, misshapen
monster,  huge,  no  sight  in  its  single  eye,  he  draws  forth  from  his  flank  and  eagerly
presses as she quivers. In a spot secluded, where leads a narrow path, there glows a
fiery crack, whose dark depths exude a pungent vapour. No chaste man is permitted to
stand on this accursed threshold.

Unsheathing  a  hideously  engorged  one-eyed  weapon  (106–9),  our  hero  pene-
trates a dark and pungent abyss (110–12) where, as the scene develops, he will
unlock  some  heady  imagery  of  sexuality  and  death:  this  is,  in  its  own  way,  a
post-Virgilian  catabasis.  The  opening  half-line  of  my  quotation  (105b  ramum,
qui  veste  latebat)  yields  this  cento’s  signal  reuse  of  a  talismanic  object  from
Aeneid 6: the Golden Bough.

Ausonius’ subtitle for this scene is Imminutio, but just what is being ‘im-

paired’  or  ‘diminished’:  the  bride’s  virginity  or,  in  this  section  more  than  in
any  other,  Virgilian  diction  and  dignitas?  The  lexica  specify  this  as  the  sole
attestation of the noun in the sexual sense (paralleled for the verb at Apuleius,
florida  14  virginem  imminuisset);

but hardly less apt here is the more com-

mon and longer-established use of imminutio in relation to literary style and
status. Perhaps, indeed, in reference to the great Augustan poet whose nick-

Discussion esp. at McGill (n. 1), pp. 92–114; on the specifics of the language, see J.N.

Adams: Ausonius Cento Nuptialis 101-131, in: Studi Italiani di Filologia Classica 53
(1981), pp. 199–215.

Significantly, Aen. 6.406 is identified as a cacemphaton by the late antique grammarian

Diomedes (GL Keil 1.451.7): Adams (n. 47), p. 201.

TLL s.v. imminutio 463.11; Lewis & Short s.v. imminutio; cf. Green (n. 14), p. 518.

‘The self-conscious cento’

195

name was ‘Parthenias’ (‘the maidenly’),

the two interpretations of the subtitle

are here closer to one another than they seem.

My final passage of Ausonius comes from the closing apologia which balances

the cento’s opening epistle and, like the epistle, is addressed to his friend Axius
Paulus:

sed cum legeris, adesto mihi adversum eos, qui, ut Iuvenalis ait, ‘Curios simulant et
Bacchanalia vivunt’, ne fortasse mores meos spectent de carmine.
‘lasciva est nobis pagina, vita proba’,
ut Martialis dicit.

But when you have done reading, stand by me to face those who, as Juvenal [2.3]
says, ‘put on the airs of Curius and live like Bacchanals’, lest perchance they picture
my life in colours of my poem.
‘My page is naughty but my life is pure’
as Martial [1.4.8] says.

Ausonius’ afterword on the contrasting morals of poetry and poet (while the
excitement of the cento’s climactic bedroom scene is still subsiding) includes the
citation above of a famous line of Martial, itself in the tradition of Catullus 16.
But I quote it because of a different sense which may sound in the line when re-
cited by a poet with the verbal sensibility of a centonist:

‘lasciva est nobis pagina, vita proba ’

That is (to paraphrase Martial’s line anew) ‘Although my cento (unlike that of
a certain recent predecessor in the genre) is playful/parodic/obscene, my life is
proba: like Martial’s, but also like … Proba’s.

I return, in closing, to the titular agenda of this volume. In the world of mid

to late first-century AD literary studies, what has crucially allowed long-
standing charges of decline and secondariness to be reclaimed from hostile
critics, and to become newly empowering and newly explanatory terms, is the

Donatus, Vit. Verg. 11; significantly, Virgil’s nickname ‘Parthenias’ is mentioned right

here in our cento’s closing apologia (in a different but related sexualizing context).

Note that Proba puns on her own name in her programmatic preface: Cento Probae 12

arcana ut possim vatis Proba cuncta referre ‘[…] so that I, the poetess Proba (or the
morally good poetess), can recall all mysteries’: see Green (n. 28), p. 553, on ‘the pun in
line  12,  one  evidently  popular  with  its  beneficiaries  and  no  doubt tiresome  to  others’;
one of the two parallels he cites is Auson. ep. 9b 35–52 (an extended conceit upon his
name addressed to a Probus). With the present paper already in press, I was alerted to an
anticipation  of  my  suggestion  about  the  Martialian  tag  at  Paola  F.  Moretti:  Proba  e  il
Cento nuptialis di Ausonio, in: Debita dona: Studi in onore di Isabella Gualandri, ed. by
Paola  F.  Moretti/Chiara  Torre/Giuseppe  Zanetto,  Napoli  2008,  pp.  317–47,  here:  pp.
341–3, within an article which reopens the question of Ausonian engagement with Proba.

196

Stephen Hinds

fact that both decline and secondariness are self-conscious tropes repeatedly
manipulated by Neronian and Flavian poets: so that, by a typographical short-
hand adopted in my Allusion and Intertext, talk of decline can be replaced by
talk of ‘decline’ (so, in brief, the poetics of Lucan); and talk of secondariness
by talk of ‘secondariness’ (so, in brief, the poetics of Statius).

Is such an

approach applicable to the rehabilitation of the mid to late fourth-century
cento?

In the passages here examined, the cento does indeed seem to embrace its

status as, in its very essence, derivative or ‘secondary’ literature; we have seen
the  centonist  negotiating  twists  and  turns  of  poetological  self-reflexivity,  and
doing  so  with  a  degree  of  detailed  wit  perhaps  underestimated  heretofore,  at
least  in  the  case  of  Proba.  But  what  about  ‘decline’  –  or  indeed  ‘décadence’,
our  volume’s  related (but  not  identical)  master-term?  Until  recently  (as  noted
at  the  outset  of  this  article),  readers  were  only  too  ready  to  label  the  cento,
disparagingly, as decadent poetry: so any suggestion that the cento may engage
self-consciously with ideas of décadence and decline is potentially a liberating
one. However, some circumspection is in order.

Certainly, Ausonius’ self-conscious debasing of Virgil (as advertised in his

epistolary  preface,  in  his  Parecbasis and in his  use of the subtitle Imminutio)
involves some appeal to the idea of ‘decline’ from a high literary standard, and
even, in  moral terms, the striking of a playful pose of ‘décadence’; but in the
context of Ausonius’ œuvre more broadly this comes across as no more than a
temporary mask, a flag of temporary generic convenience. In the case of Proba,
the connotations of ‘decline’ seem less than half-right for the peculiar combi-
nation  of  diffidence  and  self-confidence  which  this  writer’s  preface  program-
matically  brings  to  its  Christianizing  project.  Only  the  ‘superseded’  Proba  of
the  very  opening  verses,  she  of  the  early  misguided  career  in  martial  epic,
seems ready to own a self-description in terms of  moral or literary decline or
decadence  –  unless  her  programme  includes  the  implication  (and  perhaps  it
does)  that  the  inadequacy  of  the  human  poet  in  the  face  of  the  Word  of  God
constitutes  a  new  poetic  of  decline,  less  in  relation  to  one’s  literary  tradition
than to one’s Maker.

Implicit in all the above is a belief in the power of metapoetics to energize

the discussion of literary history. As Michael Roberts indicated more than
twenty years ago, such energy is often to be found in the late antique poets’
own compositional metaphors;

and, as Ausonius’ prefatory epistle to Paulus

shows by example, there is no need to limit those metaphors to just one. It is in
this spirit that my paper has highlighted the whole range of tropes for the trans-
formation of inherited materials extractable from this small piece of cento-

Hinds (n. 7), pp. 83–98.

Roberts (n. 5), esp. pp. 52–5; p. 66; pp. 116–21.