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This paper focusses on colour terminology as a tool for achieving ἐνάργεια (pictorial vividness) in the Latin poetry of the first century c.e. After briefly outlining the developments in the concept of ἐνάργεια from Aristotle to Quintilian, the paper considers the use of Latin terms for black in three descriptive passages from Statius' epic poem, the Thebaid. It is observed that the poet privileges the juxtaposition of the two adjectives ater and niger in a pattern of uariatio, where ater often carries a figurative meaning and repeats established poetic clichés, while niger is part of unparalleled collocations that evoke a material notion of blackness. Further analysis of the uariatio in the context of each passage reveals that the juxtaposition of the two-colour terms enhances the vividness of the objects described not only by increasing their chromatic impact but also by establishing connections with other parts of the poem, and by inviting a reflection on the competing practices of imitation and transgression of poetic models. The analysis of one stylistic feature (the use of colour terms in uariatio) shows that this stylistic feature is used by Statius for achieving ἐνάργεια as an artistic effect, for reflecting on ἐνάργεια as an instrument through which poetic models are challenged, and for tying his own poetic practice to contemporary rhetorical discussions. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This paper argues that Lycophron's Alexandra follows earlier texts in presenting challenges to Agamemnon's power as metaphorical re-enactments of primordial theogonic conflicts between Zeus and the forces of chaos. The Alexandra figures Agamemnon as Zeus and portrays Achilles, Clytemnestra and Cassandra as chthonic monsters opposed to the Olympian order. Employing intertexts with epic and tragedy, the poem highlights these figures' symbolic antagonism with Agamemnon–Zeus and their connections to each other. It presents a radically resystematized vision of the cosmos that champions the chthonic, the disordered and the feminine over the Olympian, the ordered and the masculine. Cassandra uses this backdrop to reinterpret her own story, inserting herself into the cosmogonic narrative as a resister of Olympian patriarchy who triumphs over masculine domination. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This paper seeks to shed fresh light on the aesthetic and stylistic affiliations of Lycophron's Alexandra, approaching the poem from two distinct but complementary angles. First, it explores what can be gained by reading Lycophron's poem against the backdrop of Callimachus' poetry. It contends that the Alexandra presents a radical and polemical departure from the Alexandrian's poetic programme, pointedly appropriating key Callimachean images while also countering Callimachus' apparent dismissal of the 'noisy' tragic genre. Previous scholarship has noted links between the openings of the Aetia and of the Alexandra, but this article demonstrates that this relationship is only one part of a larger aesthetic divide between the two poets: by embracing the raucous acoustics of tragedy, Lycophron's poem offers a self-conscious and agonistic departure from Callimachus' aesthetic preferences. Second, this article considers another way of conceiving the aesthetics of the poem beyond a Callimachean frame, highlighting how Lycophron pointedly engages with and evokes earlier Aristotelian literary criticism concerning the 'frigid' style: the Alexandra constructs its own independent literary history centred around the alleged name of its author, 'Lycophron'. The article proposes that this traditional attribution is best understood as a pen name that signposts the poem's stylistic affiliations, aligning it not so much with the Ptolemaic playwright Lycophron of Chalcis but rather with Lycophron the sophist and a larger rhetorical tradition of stylistic frigidity. Ultimately, through these two approaches, the article highlights further aspects of the Alexandra's aesthetic diversity. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Pindar's Celedones have raised much controversy over the years. Their identity still remains uncertain, although there have been many attempts from scholars to specify whether the term refers to mythical creatures comparable to the Sirens of Homer or to elaborate life-like statues adorning the gable of a long-lost Delphic temple. In this paper, I wish to argue for a metaphorical reading of the Celedones in Pindar's Paean 8 that resides in the poetic (re-)signification of proper names and how they are put into narrative(s). Drawing intratextual evidence from Olympian 1 and intertextual evidence from early Greek epic, I contend that the Celedones, richly semanticized as they are, become the means by which Pindar deals with the rigours of the song-making process, as he strives to introduce an ambivalent take on the choral praise of Apollo at Delphi, one that rests on the paradox of song exquisiteness and its negative consequences. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

In this paper, I intend to explore three examples of ekphrasis – narrative scene painting – in Demosthenes 18 and 19: the first is Demosthenes' depiction of the announcement in Athens of the capture of Elatea by Philip (18.169–73), while the second and third are descriptions of Aeschines' (allegedly) failed theatrical performances (18.262 and 19.337–8). Scholars have paid insufficient attention to these descriptive accounts: there have been a few limited discussions of 18.169 in commentaries but, otherwise, the use and purpose of these accounts as part of Demosthenes' rhetorical strategy have not been widely appreciated. This article aims to show that ekphrasis, when skilfully deployed as in Demosthenes 18 and 19, is a powerful weapon in the speaker's arsenal that merits thorough investigation. By instructing the audience as to what and how to think, imagine and remember, orators seek to engage the audience, elicit their verbal or non-verbal reaction in the law court, create a certain disposition in them towards the litigants, stir up and manipulate their emotions, and thus affect their verdict. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Cedant arma togae, ‘let arms yield to the toga’. Thus begins the famous verse from Cicero's poem on his consulship that highlights the protagonist's suppression of the Catilinarian conspiracy by favourably contrasting this political achievement with success on the battlefield. But how does the line continue? Its conclusion is transmitted in two different versions, concedat laurea laudi and concedat laurea linguae, and scholars have long been divided over which one is Cicero's original text. In this paper, we revisit the issue and not only (1) propose an answer to the question of what Cicero actually wrote, but also (2) examine those attestations of the verse that date to the author's own lifetime, elucidating the contexts that account for the quotation of one variant rather than the other. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

While Statius' decision to treat events in landlocked Thebes offered limited opportunity to integrate into his poem a maritime episode, which had become a staple epic ingredient by the first century a.d., the Thebaid is dotted with references to the Argonauts' quest for the Golden Fleece, including a narrative flashback of the crew's time at Lemnos (Theb. 5.335–498). Following in a long tradition of cross-contamination between Argonautic and Theban literary texts (as shown by, for example, the Apollonian Argonautica's use of Antimachus' Thebaid), Statius' poem also evokes works of literature which narrate the legend, notably the Argonauticas of Apollonius Rhodius and Valerius Flaccus. A lack of scholarly focus on this latter area has generally led to a piecemeal scrutiny of individual allusive passages rather than a systematic treatment. However, Stover's recent paper paves the way for a more productive approach through its contention that the Thebaid makes widespread use of the mythic subject matter: ‘It … appears that Statius frequently appropriates the Argonautic tradition and that he does so largely to present the Argives as quasi Argonauts. This suggests that their adventure to conquer Thebes is analogous to the Argonauts’ voyage to Colchis.' [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

caeditur et tilia ante iugo leuis altaque fagusstiuaque, quae currus a tergo torqueat imosIn these two lines of his instructions for making a plough Virgil prescribes (173) the wood of the tilia (lime) as suitable for the iugum (yoke); he also (173–4) mentions the fagus (beech), seemingly in connection with the making of the stiua (stilt/handle). These recommendations are both problematic, and since the latter admits of no sure solution, treatment of it is relegated to a brief Appendix (below). The body of this paper has two aims: 1) to propose a new understanding of Virgil's prescription of the tilia for the iugum; and 2) to draw attention to Virgil's use of the Hesiod scholia in his plough instructions. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

In a paper in an earlier issue of this journal I endeavoured to show that Nonius Marcellus’ three glossarial sources known as ‘Gloss. iii’, ‘Alph. Verb’ and ‘Alph. Adverb’ (lists 26, 27 and 28 in W.M. Lindsay's analysis of Nonius’ sources) were compiled by a lexicographer who paid attention to both metre and sense when excerpting works of Republican poetry. That compiler always excerpted quotations of poetry such that they consisted of, or began or ended with, a metrically complete verse. That method has produced quotations of high quality that are, on several counts, considerably more transparent and more reliable than those preserved by less diligent sources. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

This article takes as its starting point the frequency with which Ovid refers to his earlier works in his Tristia and Epistulae ex Ponto. Alongside his treatment of the Metamorphoses in the exile poetry, it is suggested that Ovid refers, on a number of occasions, to his Fasti and the progress he is making on it. He does so by using the incipit of his calendar poem, Tempora ; this term is sometimes combined with signa ('stars'), which are also mentioned in the opening couplet of the Fasti. It is proposed that Ovid's attitude toward his Fasti changes over the course of his exile, during which time he is, at various junctures, editing his calendar, and that some of these changes are discernible in the exile poetry; they result in part from his entertaining the possibility of using his Fasti as leverage in securing a mitigation of his punishment. Poems discussed in detail are Tristia 1.1, 1.7, 2.547–52, 5.3; Epistulae ex Ponto 2.1, 4.8. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article re-examines the sole surviving fragment of Aeschylean elegy alongside the available contextual evidence in an attempt to enhance our currently very limited understanding of Aeschylus' elegiac output. The first section explores Theophrastus' citation of this fragment in the Historia Plantarum to demonstrate what we can learn about the original Aeschylean poem from its use within the later writer's discussion. The second section examines how the Italian focus of the fragment fits into a wider historical and literary discourse of interactions between Greeks and non-Greeks in the west. The third and concluding section builds on these findings to examine the possible Sicilian performance context of the original Aeschylean poem to which the fragment belongs. Ultimately the discussion demonstrates that the fragment is an important and hitherto underappreciated early witness of the development of influential cultural concepts regarding interactions between Greeks and non-Greeks in the west, and that the possibility that Aeschylus produced a poem relating to the victory of Hieron I of Syracuse over the Etruscans at Cumae in 474 b.c.e. is worth serious consideration. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article deals with Calchas' prophecy and Diomedes' and Ulysses' interventions during the mustering of the Greeks at Aulis in Statius' Achilleid (1.514–52). It will be argued that Calchas and Ulysses embody two different approaches to the generic tensions of the new epic which Statius' poem represents. Calchas, the old uates of the Homeric tradition, seems unable to fully understand the 'poetics of illusion' enacted by Thetis and Achilles in disguise, as is clear from his vision. His point of view is skilfully complemented by Ulysses, who turns out to be the true uates, as well as the perfect leader for Achilles' rescue. As the only figure who can face the fluid and ambiguous reality of the poem and its literary dynamics as well, Ulysses also stands as a poetic voice himself; through his speech, Statius reflects upon the tensions of his epic and the poetic effort needed to channel the narrative from the peaceful setting of Scyros to the martial horizon of Troy. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article contributes to a discussion raised more than forty years ago in this journal by Richard Stoneman on how to interpret the unexpected image of an eagle at Pind. Nem. 3.80. Without excluding the possibility of a reference to the poet himself, this article argues, mainly based on a survey on the traditional elements used in that passage, that the eagle also refers—at least partially—to the victorious athlete Aristocleides. This is demonstrated by an internal investigation of the structure of the ode and the use of signal words (–θεν, δέδορκεν, φάος). Moreover, the image of the eagle stands in a series of other ancient and traditional motifs, such as the 'song of milk and honey' (77–9) and '(far-)shining fame' (64, 81–4), which can be also found in the Rigveda and therefore can be regarded as an inheritance of the Indo-European (= IE) poetic tradition. Parallels from the Rigveda can be found for the avian imagery too, in which the eagle is compared to someone striving for fame in an athletic contest; this suggests that the image of the eagle is another traditional motif from IE times in Pindar, who uses it as a device to transition from a poetological to a laudatory part of the epinician, perhaps deliberately playing with the ambiguity of the image. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article argues for an allusion in Virgil's Eclogue 4 to one of Pindar's victory odes (Olympian 6). It will be suggested that this Pindaric pretext is viewed by the Latin poet through a Callimachean perspective which adds to it further layers of significance. Consequently, the evidence will be discussed for reading the allusion in terms of royal ideology which places Virgil's poem in the tradition of Hellenistic ruler-encomia. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

sat es beatus (Catull. 23.27) In the aggressively philosophical poem 23, Catullus attempts to change Furius' mind about how he perceives his poverty, 'advice' which has been identified as either Stoic or Epicurean. Irrespective of the precise school of thought, it is clear that the poet ridicules Furius in eudaimonistic language. The poet of social commentary seeks to define the beatus uir. In fact, the term beatus has rich philosophical resonance and Catullus uses it in several other poems where attitudes to wealth form a significant backdrop to the poet's social posturing. Catullus was no philosopher. He employs the language and ideas of different schools, and, while his work does not reflect a coherent philosophical position, he was writing at a time when public discourse increasingly drew upon philosophical language and topoi. I will examine Catullus' use of the term beatus in poems 9, 10, 22 and 23 to demonstrate that the poet draws a contrast between its different meanings across these pairs of adjacent poems. I will argue that Catullus contrasts the eudaimonistic and material meanings of the word to show the differences between clear-sighted wisdom and deceptive pleasures, between the good life and a life filled with goods. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Scholars continue to make progress addressing the lacunae in our papyrological sources for Callimachus' prologue to the Aetia, both by lending additional support to old supplements and by discounting others or demonstrating their weaknesses. To the first category belongs the crucial verb at the end of line 5, where, in my view, Callimachus first characterizes the making of his poetry (Aet. 1–6): πολλάκι μοι Τελχῖνες ἐπιτρύζουσιν ἀοιδῇ, νήιδες οἳ Μούσης οὐκ ἐγένοντο φίλοι, εἵνεκε]ν οὐχ ἓν ἄεισμα διηνεκὲς ἢ βασιλ[η ⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅]ας ἐν πολλαῖς ἤνυσα χιλιάσιν ἢ⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅]⋅ους ἥρωας, ἔπος δ᾽ ἐπὶ τυτθὸν ἑλ[ίσσω παῖς ἅτε, τῶν δ᾽ ἐτέων ἡ δεκὰς οὐκ ὀλίγη. Often the Telchines mutter at my poetry, being ignorant and no friends of the Muse, because I have not completed one continuous poem in many thousands ... on kings and ... ... heroes, but I ... my poem only a little like a child, though the decades of my years are not few. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In the anapaestic sequences of Eur. Alc. 93–7 and 105–11, a fast-paced exchange takes place between two choreuts (or two groups of choreuts) eager to learn about Alcestis' fate. The two passages pose several metrical and textual problems. The most serious is the presence at lines 94 and 106 of the ᴗ ᴗ – – sequence (a 'catalectic monometer'), which finds no parallel in anapaestic poetry from any age or literary genre. The same sequence occurs at the beginning of the short anapaestic coda of lines 132–5, which, whether authentic or not, from a metrical point of view presents certain affinities with the two previous sequences. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Simply by formulating a question about the nature of ancient Greek poetry or music, any modern English speaker is already risking anachronism. In recent years especially, scholars have reminded one another that the words 'music' and 'poetry' denote concepts with no easy counterpart in Greek. μουσική in its broadest sense evokes not only innumerable kinds of structured movement and sound but also the political, psychological and cosmic order of which song, verse and dance are supposed to be perceptible manifestations. Likewise, ποίησις and the ποιητικὴ τέχνη can encompass all kinds of 'making', from the assembly of a table to the construction of a rhetorical argument. Of course, there were specifically artistic usages of these terms—according to Plato, 'musical and metrical production' was the default meaning of ποίησις in everyday speech. But even in discussions which restrict themselves to the sphere of human art, we find nothing like the neat compartmentalization of harmonized rhythmic melody on the one hand, and stylized verbal composition on the other, which is often casually implied or expressly formulated in modern comparisons of 'music' with 'poetry'. For many ancient theorists the City Dionysia, a dithyrambic festival and a recitation of Homer all featured different versions of one and the same form of composition, a μουσική or ποιητική to which λόγοι, γράμματα and συλλαβαί were just as essential as ἁρμονία, φθόγγοι, ῥυθμός and χρόνοι. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Roughly half way through the fourth Georgic, Virgil confronts a sad reality: on occasion the entire population of a hive can perish without warning and leave the bee-keeping farmer bee-less. In response to such a devastating loss, the poet describes an Egyptian procedure, to which modern critics have given the name bugonia, whereby the farmer acquires a new swarm of bees from the putrefying carcass of a dead ox (4.281–314). After the account of bugonia, the poem takes a notoriously unexpected turn. Virgil asks the Muses about the origins of this practice and then recounts the exploits of Aristaeus, an inhabitant of the georgic world whose own bees once succumbed to famine and disease. In the narrative that follows, Aristaeus consults his mother Cyrene and the seer Proteus, who tells him about Orpheus' descent to the underworld. The narrative ends when Aristaeus, thanks to the teaching of his mother, performs a series of activities that culminates in a new swarm of bees bursting forth from the putrefying carcass of a dead ox (4.315–558). The aetiological character of the Aristaeus narrative is clear—Virgil promises to trace the Egyptian procedure back to its first origo (4.286), and when he addresses the Muses, he specifically asks what god discovered the practice and whence it took its first beginnings (4.315–16). But for what activity does the story actually offer an aition? [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

'Who wrote the scurrilous iambic poems of the first stanza?', asks David West at the start of his commentary on the ode. 'The culprit', he declares, 'must be Horace.' This answer accords with that to be found in other commentaries: 'my scurrilous verses' (Page), 'my scandalous lines' (Gow), 'my scurrilous iambics' (Wickham), 'my abusive iambics' (Shorey), 'miei ingiuriosi giambi' (Colamarino and Bo), 'my libellous iambics' (Nisbet and Hubbard), 'my libellous iambic verses' (Quinn), 'miei giambi ingiuriosi' (Fedeli). What, then, are these iambic verses? Some earlier scholars suggested that Horace is referring to various of his epodes, such as those addressed to Canidia (5, 17); but our knowledge of Canidia (cf. also Serm. 1.8) indicates that she would scarcely make plausible the accent on beauty in the first line of the ode. Most commentators, at least since the latter half of the nineteenth century, have believed that Horace is referring to some iambics which he had targeted at the ode's addressee but of which we now have no further knowledge: Kiessling and Heinze, for example, refer to 'the satirical poems which Horace ... has levelled at her', while in the most recent commentary in 2012 Mayer says that Horace 'assures an unnamed young woman that it rests with her to put an end to his vituperative attacks'. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Persae et Magi omnes qui Persicae regionis incolunt fines ignem praeferunt et omnibus elementis ignem putant debere praeponi. (Firm. Mat. Err. prof. rel. 5.1)The Persians and all the Magi who dwell in the confines of the Persian land give their preference to fire and think it ought to be ranked above all the other elements. Iulius Firmicus Maternus was a Latin writer who lived in the fourth century a.d. In the 340s, following his conversion to Christianity, he wrote the De errore profanarum religionum, which has been preserved only in the tenth-century manuscript Vaticanus Palatinus Latinus 165. In this work he argues against the pagan cults, calling for the emperors to suppress them. The first sections are dedicated to the pagan worship of the natural elements: objects of a cult are water among the Egyptians, earth among the Phrygians, air among the Assyrians. The chapter we are dealing with, the fifth, is dedicated to fire, a central element of the Zoroastrian religion. Greek and Roman writers, pagans and Christians alike, were aware of this, and references to some sort of fire-cult among Persians are numerous in literature and are found as early as Herodotus (1.131, 3.16). Just like Firmicus Maternus, some authors also state that the Magi worship fire as a god or divine element and that they conduct fire-related rituals. In Greek and Latin authors there is a view that the Magi, these specialists of the rituals of the Persian religion, were originally a Median tribe. As shown by the passages of Ammianus and Basil, such knowledge was also available to Firmicus Maternus’ contemporaries, and there do not appear to be particular differences in the way in which Greek and Latin authors viewed the Magi in Achaemenid and Sassanid times. Regrettably, one cannot know for certain which of these sources Firmicus Maternus knew. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

At Carm. (Odes) 4.2.17–20 Horace's catalogue of Pindar's poetry reaches his victory odes:siue quos Elea domum reducitpalma caelestis pugilemue equumuedicit et centum potiore signismunere donat; 20The text, transmitted without variants in our manuscripts, means ‘(Pindar deserves the laurel wreath whether he writes bold dithyrambs or sings of gods and heroes) or tells of those escorted home as gods by the Elean palm-branch, whether boxer or horse, and bestows on them a gift more valuable than a hundred statues’. The two italicized expressions are more difficult than the commentators seem willing to admit. I discuss them separately. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

In carm. 55, Catullus supposes his friend Camerius may be caught in erotic adventure:num te lacteolae tenent puellae?si linguam clauso tenes in ore,fructus proicies amoris omnes:uerbosa gaudet Venus loquella. 20uel, si uis, licet obseres palatum,dum nostri sis particeps amoris. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Scholarship on Grattius’ Cynegetica, a minor Augustan didactic poem on hunting, has done a laudable job of finding allusions in the text or other ancient passages that elaborate the sometimes-obscure information that Grattius provides. Such scholarship has not led to a floruit for Grattian research, although the June 2015 conference ‘Grattius in context(s): Hunting an Augustan Poet’ indicates that there is more to the poem than meets the eye, for those who are willing to spend time with the text. One area particularly open to research is the influence of Greek authors, a subject not addressed even in the aforementioned conference. To demonstrate what work can be done, as well as to speculate on the underlying themes of Grattius’ Cynegetica, I wish to discuss one unnoticed allusion to the Greek epinician poet Pindar. These two authors are not often or obviously read in conjunction to one another, but there are moments of contact: a recognized reference occurs at Grat. 527, cantatus Graiis Acragas. One unrecognized moment of contact is when Grattius quotes Olympian 1.13 when discussing dog-breeding (Grat. 198). The allusion highlights that there is still literary work to be done on the Cynegetica to appreciate fully Grattius’ poetic agenda and how he establishes his authority—not to mention the idea that Grattius has an agenda at all. To discuss this reference, I will first focus on the technical aspects of the translation before discussing interpretations of the line and the allusion. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Tristia 3.3 purports to be a ‘death-bed’ letter addressed by the sick poet to his wife in Rome (3.3.1–4), in which Ovid, banished from Rome on Augustus' orders, foresees his burial in Tomi as the ultimate form of exilic displacement (3.3.29–32). In order to avoid such a permanent form of exclusion from his homeland, Ovid issues instructions for his burial in the suburbs of Rome (3.3.65–76), dictating a four-line epitaph to be inscribed upon his tomb (3.3.73–6). However, despite the careful instructions he outlines for his burial and physical memorial, Ovid asserts: maiora libelli | et diuturna magis sunt monumenta mihi (‘my little books are a greater and more long-lasting monument for me’, 3.3.77–8), expressing his belief in his continued poetic afterlife. Scholars have seen this poem's concerns as above all literary, concentrating on Ovid's exploitation and development of elegiac and Augustan models which also treat the themes of death and poetic immortality. However, although Ovid's portrayal of what purports to be personal experience draws extensively upon earlier poetry, and, as we shall see, the poem gains much of its power from its engagement with the tradition that poetry alone can memorialize, previous studies have failed to analyse how Ovid consistently plays up the element that marks him out from the predecessors who had imagined their own deaths and poetic afterlives: that is, his status as an exile. Ovid's insistence on burial in his native land – from which he had been excluded in life – and his assertion of his poetic immortality in a poem which repeatedly stresses his exilic status, thus take on a markedly political angle, which had been absent or more muted in the models he exploits. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

For Bernd Niebling and his colleagues at the Lesesaal Altes Buch of the Universitätsbibliothek München While the earliest complete manuscripts of Catullus to survive today were written in the fourteenth century, it is well known that poem 62 already appears in an anthology from the ninth century, the Codex Thuaneus (Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Parisinus lat. 8071). However, the Thuaneus may once have contained one more poem of Catullus. In his commentary on the poet, which appeared in 1684 but had been written decades earlier, the Dutch scholar Isaac Vossius makes the following comment on the last two lines of poem 11: Praetereunte postquam Tactus aratro est ] Vetustissimum exemplar Thuanæum in quo hoc Catulli carmen variorum epigrammatis subjungitur, legit fractus, non tactus. Et hoc probo, nisi malis stratus, nam in quibusdam libris tractus legebatur. It is surprising to find a reference to a lost part of such a well-known manuscript in a source from the seventeenth century. One may well ask whether Vossius really read this poem in the Codex Thuaneus. Could he have seen this manuscript? Can he be relied on to report its contents truthfully? And could a part of the volume have been lost since the seventeenth century? I will argue that the answer to all these questions is yes, and that it is very likely that the Thuaneus once contained Catullus 11 as well as 62. I will set out the consequences of this for our understanding of Catullus' manuscript tradition. Next, I will discuss another ancient manuscript of Catullus that Vossius claims to have read, namely his ‘vetus liber Mediolanensis’. The article will close with an appendix on the history of the Thuaneus before it was studied by Vossius. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

In recent years, our understanding of Archilochus has been transformed by the discovery of a major new fragment from the Oxyrhynchus collection (P Oxy. 4708), first published by Dirk Obbink. The new poem is not only the most substantial of Archilochus' elegiac fragments, but more importantly it is the first example we have of the poet's use of myth, for the surviving section narrates a mythological theme: the defeat of the Achaeans at the hands of Telephus during their first attempt to reach Troy. Scholars have found the choice and handling of the myth surprising, and the role that Telephus plays within the poem has been a subject of controversy. Yet this debate has tended to dwell on the Telephus myth in its general form, rather than focussing on the details of how Archilochus presents him in this particular context. This article will explore the significance that Telephus could have had for a Parian audience, and will use this to investigate the political and rhetorical impact of his presentation within the poem. I will argue that Archilochus highlights the aspects of Telephus' story which connect him most closely with Parian local myth, and that he does so in order to enhance the poem's central message: criticism and implicit mockery of the mythological battle and, by implication, of contemporary Parian military strategy. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Publishing a collection of fragments from a classical author is a risky business: the moment the book appears in print, it may already be outdated, as new fragments could have come to light. Or, in the words of Ecclesiasticus 18:7: ‘When a man hath done, then he beginneth; and when he leaveth off, then he shall be doubtful’ (Ὅταν συντελέσῃ ἄνθρωπος, τότε ἄρχεται, καὶ ὅταν παύσηται, τότε ἀπορηθήσεται). The same fate befell me shortly after the publication of my collection of fragments from Rufus of Ephesus' On Melancholy. Manfred Ullmann wrote to me that the late Rainer Degen had discovered a new fragment; in the course of my research, I came across some relevant quotations in the Hippocratic Treatments by the tenth-century author aṭ-Ṭabarī; and recently, Klaus-Dietrich Fischer published two related fragments. The following short note contains these new fragments together with an English translation and commentary. At the end, I also offer some addenda and corrigenda, partly in light of the reviews that have since appeared. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The comic dramatists of the fifth century b.c. were notable for their preoccupation with poetics – that is, their frequent references to their own poetry and that of others, their overt interest in the Athenian dramatic festivals and their adjudication, their penchant for parody and pastiche, and their habit of self-conscious reflection on the nature of good and bad poetry. I have already explored these matters at some length, in my study of the relationship between comedy and literary criticism in the period before Plato and Aristotle. This article continues the story into the fourth century and beyond, examining the presence and function of poetical and literary-critical discourse in what is normally called ‘middle’ and ‘new’ comedy. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

The ἰαματικά, a collection of seven short epigrams about healing grouped together and so labelled in the Milan papyrus attributed to Posidippus, present another useful source of information about the cult and cures of Asclepius (AB 95–101; P Mil. Vogl. VIII 309, XIV.30–XV.22). Brief though the epigrams are (all are four lines in length except the first, which is eight lines), they accord well with the picture of the cult presented by material, epigraphic and other literary evidence. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Horace, Satires 1.3.117–23, as transmitted: adsitregula, peccatis quae poenas inroget aequas,ne scutica dignum horribili sectere flagello.nam ut ferula caedas meritum maiora subire 120uerbera non uereor, cum dicas esse paris resfurta latrociniis et magnis parua minerisfalce recisurum simili te, si tibi regnumpermittant homines.Let there be a rule to impose fair penalties for transgressions, lest you pursue with terrible scourge one deserving but the stick. You see, I don't fear that you will strike with a schoolmaster's rod one who has earned more serious lashing when you say mere thefts are of a pair with brigandage and threaten to trim little things and great with like sickle, would the world but grant you power. Horace is attacking the Stoics for their doctrine that all sins are equal. The overall run of sense must be that given above. If kept, the ut of line 120 must then have the value of ne: were it allowed its normal meaning in expressions of fear (‘lest not’) the opposite of what is required would be said. The oddity of the construction was long excused as a sort of anacoluthon, provoked by the postponement of uereor. Such defences of the received text were rightly criticised by Palmer and Housman: ‘incredible’, they both concluded, and indeed it is incredible that Horace could have in such a short space forgotten what he had written, and forgotten it in such a way as to say the opposite of what he meant. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Intense scrutiny can raise chimaeras, and Virgil is the most scrutinized of Roman poets, but he may have engineered coincidences in line number (‘stichometric allusions’) between certain of his verses and their Greek models. A handful of potential examples have now accumulated. Scholars have detected Virgilian citations of Homer, Callimachus and Aratus in this manner, as well as intratextual allusions by both Virgil and Ovid, and references to Virgil's works by later Roman poets using the same technique. (For present purposes I disregard the separate, though related, phenomenon of corresponding numbers of lines in parallel passages: G. Knauer, Die Aeneis und Homer (Göttingen, 1964) suggests several examples of such correspondences between Homer and Virgil, especially in speeches. Another purely formal mode of allusion faintly present in Roman poetry is homophonic translation (the technique which Louis Zukofsky's 1969 translations of Catullus pursue in extenso); thus Virgil's fagus, beech, corresponds with Theocritus' phagos, oak.) If genuine, the phenomenon lacks any consistent method or regular pattern (and the degree of plausibility varies); if genuine, it is very rare, even if accidents in textual transmission could have obscured some examples; if genuine, it probably originated in the Hellenistic period, although such a case has yet to be made. Virgil presently seems the earliest and most copious practitioner of stichometric allusion. A previously undetected example in the Aeneid is proposed below. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Most of the above text is straightforward. Horace is explaining that wrath – the reader may think at this stage either of Horace's own wrath expressed in the scurrilous iambi mentioned in 2–3 or that of the woman he addresses – resembles various other things. Thus in 5a wrath's effect is compared to that of the Magna Mater on her priests, the Galli (they were driven so far from their senses that they castrated themselves), and in 5b–6 to that of Apollo on the Pythia (the god interfered with her personality so that she could utter his prophecies). In 7a Dionysus’ effect on his maenads provides the analogy (one thinks of Agave and her sisters, who dismembered Pentheus under the delusion that he was a lion). These are good comparisons to the ruinous effects of anger. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

The article discusses commentaries to the poetry of ancient Roman poet Horace. Roman commentator Helenius Acro's commentaries supplied allusions to Horace's poetry. Pomponius Porphyrio and pseudo-Acro also created commentaries relating to the work of Horace. The commentators contextualize literary allusions.

The article discusses the influences of Hellenistic poetry on the poetic career of Roman philosopher Cicero. According to the author, Cicero was always a Hellenistic poet, citing his literary learnings in Rome during his youth. A discussion on the Latin poet Catullus, the Greek poet Callimachus and the neoterics is also presented. Cicero's works including "Pontius Glaucus," "Alcyones," and "Aratea" are also analyzed.

The article presents a study on the philosopher Parmenides and his poem which tells of a "knowing man" who receives a revelation from a goddess. The author offers a different interpretation of the third line in the poem which he argues will make other lines in the proem more coherent. He also argues that metaphors of light, enlightenment, and illumination used in the proem are in contrast to Parmenidean views.

The article analyzes the meaning of the last line of the poem "Olympian 3," by Pindar. According to the author, the phrase, which referred to the pillars of Heracles, can be construed as an inspiration that enabled Pindar to associate Acragas with the Istrian land. He claims that the phrase also alludes to the Olympieum structure and Pindar used the concept of a gnome to emphasize the allusion in an effort to offer a broader appeal. He adds that the poem also presents Pindar's views about art and architecture.

The article examines the poetic fables written by Phaedrus which depict his views about Roman emperors Augustus and Tiberius. The author focuses on the intersection of poetic and imperial authority in the fables. She states that these portrayals are Phaedrus' way of showing the negative sides of the emperors without calling negative attention to himself. She adds that Phaedrus' emphasis on the importance of careful interpretation is a message to readers of what the poems really mean.

The article examines the various interpretations regarding the semantics of KΩOΣS in epinician poetry. According to the author, the noun means celebration and generally refers to the first celebration at which an epinician ode is performed. He claims that various connotations were given to the word because celebration is interpreted in different ways. He adds that Pindar and Bacchylides use the word to bring life to the celebration of their odes performance.

A literary criticism of the poem "Georgics" 4.158-83, by Virgil is presented. It outlines Virgil's description of his bees' division of labour and likens it to that of the Cyclopes as they fashion Jupiter's thunderbolts. It examines the question raised in the lines 177-8 of synthetically coherence and relevancy causing to ask if whether Virgil states that love of having, drives or motivates the Cecropian bees.