Trimalchio is such an established figure of fun in the Satyricon that commentators have been content to note the myths that he jumbles together in his description of his tableware here, without going much further. Clearly his scyphoi portray Medea and her dead children, not Cassandra, and we assume that he can recognize gladiatorial fights when he sees them. Heretofore lacking is any discussion of what scene was actually represented on the capis he acquired from his patron and whether the reader of the Satyricon is meant to be able to decode the scene which Trimalchio so flagrantly misinterprets.

In their mangled versions of this poem Baehrens and Housman have both anticipated the first of these changes whilst lines 19–20 are placed as I suggest by Housman and Postgate and lines 21–4 are placed before line 39 by Scaliger, Housman, Butler, and others. Nevertheless I recall these transpositions here, primarily because my third change is intelligible only through them, but also because their correctness has been generally neglected amid the confusing assortment of wholly unnecessary transpositions that this poem has suffered. My reasons for recommending the above changes are these.

The far west in Hesiod's world is confused, and probably reflects a dim knowledge drawn from the Phoenicians in Sicily, where the Greeks bought Tartessian silver. Beneath myths and traditions we may discern a few historical facts: the dynasty of the Tartessian kings, the Phoenician wars with King Geron of Tartessos (about the turn of the ninth to eighth centuries), followed by the ‘Phoenician Thalassocracy’ and a Tartessian attempt to establish direct commercial relations with Sardinia.

Löwe and von Hartel (loc. cit. in n. 3) have drawn attention to the striking similarity between R's contents and those of a lost manuscript bequeathed by Philippe d' Harcourt (bishop of Bayeux, 1142–64) to the library at Bee. This manuscript is described in a twelfth-century catalogue as follows:7 ‘in alio Seneca de naturalibus questionibus et Adelermus Batensis [Adhelardus Bathonensis Becker), Proba vates, Aurea Capra, et liber Hildeberti Turonensis archiepiscopi de dissensione interioris et exterioris hominis, et sermones eius et uita ipsius.’

το⋯το τ⋯ς καθ⋯ρσεως. Perhaps τò τ⋯ς κ. Cf. 3. 59. I τò τ⋯ς ξυμφορ⋯ς: 6. 60.4 τò τ⋯ν ‘Eρμ⋯ν

The retired Byzantine bureaucrat, Zosimus, wrote his New History in the early sixth century. This work is not only one of the primary sources for the history of the Later Roman Empire in the fourth and early fifth centuries a.d., but it is also the primary witness to the now fragmentary Histories of Eunapius of Sardis (a.d. 347–c. 414) which it faithfully epitomizes. In the last part of the New History which depends upon Eunapius, two lacunae have been detected which are of interest with respect to the original texts of both authors.

Perhaps the most difficult part of the famous inscription from Heraclea (around which so many controversies have raged) is the opening section of the extant text, where from a given form of procedure it is required to determine the subject matter. A solution of this puzzling problem, which I proposed some months ago, has recently been made the subject of an interesting article in this journal by Dr. E. G. Hardy. Mr. Hardy has long been engaged in this field, and has rendered much useful service. In this article, however, he seems to be interested in my views chiefly in their relation to his own theory. This is apparent in his agreements with me. For example, one aim of my study was to identify the professiones of Cicero's letters ad Att. xiii. 33, 1, and ad Fam. xvi. 23, 1, with those provided for in the first section of the inscription. It appeared that the returns mentioned by Cicero were registrations of property, that they were to be made yearly, and that they had their prototype in the annual property census of Egypt. It also seemed clear that Caesar's recensus populi of 46 was modelled on the Egyptian kατ' oίkíαm άπoγραφήiKíαν. With these preliminary conclusions (by no means unimportant in themselves) Mr. Hardy is not unwilling to agree. He even goes so far as to say that I have made a good case for ‘a new system of professiones somehow relating to property and introduced in 46.’ He thinks too that the settlement of the frumentations as a part of a more comprehensive legislative scheme (as my view implies) would be most appropriate. So far so good, but when it comes to the vital point of admitting a connection between these matters and vv. 1–19 of the Tablet he draws back as if from some fatal step.

Two of the most moving personal poems of Catullus, 8 and 76, present the reader with difficulties of interpretation which highlight the inadequacy of a very widely-held view of the nature of Catullus' personal poetry. In this view the poet is regarded as handling his own actual experience directly, so that the poems present reality, perhaps not entirely, but certainly to a degree that is not the case with the elegiac poets or with the Horace of the Odes. Extreme forms of this view may be seen in the old idea that Catullus threw off the Lesbia poems as the odi or the amo of the moment constrained him, and in the more recent view that the poems can usefully be seen as either attempts to contain an overpowering wave of emotion or to state, and so get to grips with, a baffling personal problem. The first of these extreme forms has been long discredited, but the second still exerts a persuasive pressure, to judge by recent discussion of Catullus.

To whom is Aeschinus speaking? Editors in general follow Eugraphius (ad 156–7) and have Aeschinus address his lines to the psaltria. According to this interpretation, it would be the psaltria who anxiously looks back (cf. quid respectas?, 157); since Sannio is the only person on stage whom the girl would have reason to fear, the leno would have to be standing behind her, and hence must have followed the psaltria (and Aeschinus and Parmeno who are escorting her) on to the stage.

In his monograph on the praetorian prefect, L. L. Howe found it necessary to include an appendix concerning the Codex Justinianus as a source for this official. The problem was that while manuscripts or early editors had labelled various recipients of third-century imperial constitutions as prefects, all save two of those appellations were expunged by Krueger in his edition of the CJ. Howe considered it ‘impossible to believe’ that only two of the numerous pre-Diocletianic rescripts preserved by Justinian's compilers should have been directed to praetorian prefects; but he also realised that without further evidence or argumentation, Krueger's scepticism could not simply be ignored. The solution was to label some cases dubious; others, following Krueger, were rejected altogether. But beyond this, Howe was able to discover several instances of entirely unlabelled addressees who could be identified with otherwise known praetorian prefects, and he supposed that many similar cases might be found.

In the middle of the third book of his Histories, Tacitus records some movements in the western provinces occasioned by the events of 69. The troops in Britain, he says, were partial to Vespasian, who had served there with distinction in the reign of Claudius, and a party was formed in his interest.

The manuscript tradition of the Theogony is not as good as that of the Erga, a poem which has always been more popular. The earliest complete manuscripts of the Theogony date only from the end of the thirteenth century, while those upon which the recensio must chiefly be based are of the fourteenth and fifteenth. The number of extant manuscripts, however, especially of the fifteenth century, is not inconsiderable, and knowledge of them has hitherto been far from complete. What is known is known largely in consequence of the labours of Alois Rzach. Rzach collated many of the manuscripts, and tried, with some success, to establish the relationships between them. He published his conclusions in Wiener Studien xix (1897), 15–70, and used them as the basis for his great edition of 1902.

After I had put myself the task of investigating the correctness of the results obtained by Heibges concerning the clausulae of Chariton, I decided to determine the frequency in which the different rhythmical forms appear in the authors of non-rhythmical works. For that purpose I investigated the prose works of Thucydides and Plutarch as carefully and in as specified a form as was possible. This I did with the intention to compare the percentages with those of Heibges. In this comparison, however, I came to the conclusion that the figures for Thucydides and Plutarch differed considerably, and that in such a way that certain conclusions could be drawn concerning the manner in which Plutarch constructed his clausulae according to fixed rules.

A Manuscript belonging to the Municipal Library at Tours (No. 843, formerly 416, fols. 75a-101a) of the beginning of the thirteenth century contains a portion of a Commentary on Donatus, compiled in the middle of the ninth century by Sedulius of Liège. This copy was left unfinished by the scribe, and the Commentary comprises only about two-thirds of the Ars Minor. A brief note on the manuscript was contributed by Charles Thurot to the Comptes rendus de l' Académie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres in 1870.