Vergilian Pastoral (Eclogue 1)

Eclogue 1 begins, in good pastoral fashion, with a pastoral name. Vergil chooses Tityrus. What is untypical is the role Vergil gives him. Traditionally a low character in Theocritus, Tityrus is included in the music-making only once, in Id. 7.72 (Coleman). Vergil gives him preeminence in his opening eclogue, but his humble origins are not abandoned. A lingering symbol of the herdsman’s status seems to be his use of the avena, the oaten pipe, which, thanks to Vergil, would later become associated with pastoral (Coleman). avena is Meliboeus’ word and the first reference to Tityrus’ instrument. If it is to be taken literally, the image of Tityrus blowing on slender oat grass would be comical; but so simplistic a scene that it might still be charming, not unlike the image of a barefooted rustic reclining on a riverbank and chewing on a blade of grass. It is, on the other hand, also possible that avena is being used metonymically, referring to only the reed of a larger instrument.

In Tityrus’ own words, he is playing on a rustic reed-pipe (ludere…calamo…agresti). This would be more practical for playing music than a blade of oat grass, and the Greek loan word calamus (κάλαμος) makes for a more convincing evocation of Greek rustic music. But if the reed is a more serious instrument than the oat, the way that Tityrus uses it seems less so. Meliboeus claims that he is pondering (meditaris) the woodland Muse - one of many Lucretian sentiments in Vergil (cf. Lucr. 4.589 fistula silvestrem ne cesset fundere musam) - with the oat stalk, but Tityrus insists he is playing (ludere) on the reed pipe. The two pairs (meditaris avena; ludere…calamo) contrast both on their own and with each other. To meditate is to think with serious reflection. To do so on so flimsy an instrument as an avena seems absurd. But to “play” on a calamus seems to be a mirrored juxtaposition of this. The verb meditari can mean “to practice” as well, but it probably shows both of its meanings here; so the contrast is maintained. The two pairs might reflect each speaker's respective situations: Tityrus can relax and “play” his pipe in otia, which Meliboeus desperately desires to do again. But he cannot because he has been forced to give up his lands, and now he must wander like an exsul. Meliboeus understands that he will no longer sing songs (carmina nulla canam). Tityrus is the new singer. 

There are indications of the poem's own self-awareness. In line 5 especially, Meliboeus seems to point out the poem itself: formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas. Tityrus, the singer of this song, is teaching the woods to echo fair Amaryllis. In this way, it is a sort of elegiac pastoral: both the (former) beloved and the woods inspire the song (cf. Coleman’s note); and the singer is said to teach the woods to sing back. The connection between nature and poetry – at least pastoral poetry – is made clear. You cannot have one without the other. It is why Meliboeus can no longer sing. The city – the disruption of nature, in one sense – has intruded on Meliboeus. It has, quite literally, displaced him, and so has robbed him of his ability either to meditate or to play on the pipe. On the other hand, it is only by compromising with the city that Tityrus’ song is allowed to continue.