At the beginning of her letter to Aeneas, who seems to be resolute in his decision to set off from Carthage, Ovid's Dido tries to persuade him to stay resorting to the argument that he is currently abandoning something he already has—namely, the rule over the newly founded city which she has entrusted to him—in order to leave and look for a land that he still has to find, not to say possess (Her. 7.13–16 facta fugis, facienda petis; quaerenda per orbem | altera, quaesita est altera terra tibi. | ut terram inuenias, quis eam tibi tradet habendam? | quis sua non notis arua tenenda dabit?). Even more painfully, Aeneas is also abandoning a woman whose love he has betrayed: but—provided that everything else may succeed—which other uxor will he possibly set at his side who might love him as much as Dido (7.21–2)?
This is a challenging, even heart-breaking, question for both Dido and Aeneas, not for the readers of Virgil's Aeneid, who know that Aeneas will reach Italy and marry Lavinia, albeit after a long and difficult war.Footnote 1 Editors tend to accept van Lennep's conjecture di at line 21 (‘even if everything should happen and the gods should not delay your wishes’), which seems to ameliorate the universally transmitted te of the manuscripts.Footnote 2 It is not easy to understand the meaning of Aeneas’ (not) being held up/entangled by his own uota, whereas someone's wishes are more frequently the object, not the subject, of delay.Footnote 3 As the closest parallel for uota being delayed by gods, as well as the strongest case in favour of the text correction, both van Lennep and subsequent commentators compare Her. 18.5 nam cur mea uota morantur … ? [sc. di].Footnote 4
However, this is hardly the most apparent reason why we should read di at Her. 7.21. In these lines, Dido offers one of those typical cases in the Heroides in which the future development of the mythical narrative is alluded to—a development which the writing heroine cannot be aware of yet, or can at least just imagine, while the hidden author (Ovid) stimulates the reader to catch the allusion to the literary model that provides the continuation of the current story.Footnote 5 In lines 13–22, Dido's questions concerning the expected uncertainties of Aeneas’ own city foundation compared to the present facts (‘First you need to find the land you are looking for; provided that you find it, who will lend you its full possession? When will you be able to found a city like Carthage? And whence shall a wife come who loves you as I do?’) remind the reader of the difficulties Aeneas will have to face in Aeneid 7–12, the second half of Virgil's epic—namely, the war against the Latins for the land possession through marriage with King Latinus’ daughter.Footnote 6 In this context, Dido's seemingly innocent hint at the possibility that the gods might not delay (nec … morentur) the fulfilment of Aeneas’ wishes cannot but look like an all too accurate foreshadowing of how, on the contrary, there will be one goddess, namely Juno, who will do her best to make the resolution of Aeneas’ troubles come later than hoped for (Aen. 7.313–16):
The (unconscious) irony of Dido's words as well as the (conscious) play of Ovid's allusion rest on the fact that in our couplet the elegiac heroine's dispute about Aeneas’ all-but-carefree future culminates in the focalization on his wife-to-be, whose love for him will never equal Dido's own;Footnote 7 this will happen for sure, even if Aeneas should meet no other obstacles, even if (all) the gods should support him in his enterprise. But this is the point: not every god will make things easy for Aeneas, as Juno will precisely find in the war's delaying function (morae) the only way in which she can at least postpone (morari) the eventual accomplishment of a destiny she does not like.Footnote 8
Intertextuality as well as the very peculiar literary self-positioning of Ovid's Heroides may thus help detect a further and, as I believe, much more compelling argument for the old, and good, conjecture di at Her. 7.21.