The news of Philippi was soon followed by orders from Octavian—­to be thoroughly accurate we ought of course to call him Caesar—­that lands must now, according to past pledges, be procured in Italy for nearly two hundred thousand veterans.  Every one knew that the cities that had favored the liberators, and even those that had tried to preserve their neutrality, would suffer.  Vergil could, of course, guess that lands in the Po Valley would be in particular demand because of their fertility.  The first note of fear is found in his eighth Catalepton: 

  Villula, quae Sironis eras, et pauper agelle,
    Verum illi domino tu quoque divitiae,
  Me tibi et hos una mecum, quos semper amavi,
    Si quid de patria tristius audiero,
  Commendo imprimisque patrem:  tu nunc eris illi
    Mantua quod fuerat quodque Cremona prius.

It is usually assumed from this passage that Siro had recently died, probably, therefore, some time in 42 B.C., and that, in accordance with a custom frequently followed by Greek philosophers at Rome, he had left his property to his favorite pupil.  The garden school, therefore, seems to have come to an end, though possibly Philodemus may have continued it for the few remaining years of his life.  Siro’s villa apparently proved attractive to Vergil, for he made Naples his permanent home, despite the gift of a house on the Esquiline from Maecenas.

This, however, is not Vergil’s last mention of Siro, if we may believe Servius, who thinks that “Silenum” in the sixth Eclogue stands for “Sironem,” its metrical equivalent.  If, as seems wholly likely, Servius is right, the sixth Eclogue is a fervid tribute to a teacher who deserves not to be forgotten in the story of Vergil’s education.  The poem has been so strangely misinterpreted in recent years that it is time to follow out Servius’ suggestion and see whether it does not lead to some conclusions.[5]

[Footnote 5:  Skutsch roused a storm of discussion over it by insisting that it was a catalogue of poems written by Gallus (Aus Vergils Fruehzeit.) Cartault, Etude sur les Bucoliques de Virgile (p. 285), almost accepts Servius’ suggestion:  “un resume de ses lectures et de ses etudes.”]

After an introduction to Varus the poem tells how two shepherds found Silenus off his guard, bound him, and demanded songs that he had long promised.  The reader will recall, of course, how Plato also likened his teacher Socrates to Silenus.  Silenus sang indeed till hills and valleys thrilled with the music:  of creation of sun and moon, the world of living things, the golden age, and of the myths of Prometheus, Phaeton, Pasiphae, and many others; he even sang of how Gallus had been captured by the Muses and been made a minister of Apollo.

A strange pastoral it has seemed to many!  And yet not so strange when we bear in mind that the books of Philodemus reveal Vergil and Quintilius Varus as fellow students at Naples.  Surely Servius has provided the key.  The whole poem, with its references to old myths, is merely a rehearsal of schoolroom reminiscences, as might have been guessed from the fine Lucretian rhythms with which it begins: