Vernae—often but not exclusively taken to be home-born slaves—are usually thought to have had a privileged role within the ancient Roman household. While previous studies have highlighted how these individuals were represented with affection or as surrogate members of the freeborn family, this article uses epigraphic evidence from Pompeii to argue that the reality for at least some vernae was much more grim. A full examination of Pompeian attestations of the word verna reveals that there was a connection to prostitution in over seventy per cent of extant appearances of the noun. Furthermore, contextualizing this phenomenon within the corpus of prostitution-related graffiti more broadly reveals that verna was the single most commonly used descriptor in advertisements for sexual services at Pompeii. Ultimately, the epigraphic evidence from Pompeii suggests that vernae were not safe from sexual exploitation, and it may have been their status as vernae that made them attractive to those wishing to purchase sex.

This article looks to Attic comedy to explain Socrates’ first argument in Plato's Hippias Major: his refutation of Hippias’ claim that the Beautiful is a beautiful girl. As part of his argument, Socrates introduces three examples of beautiful things—a mare (θήλεια ἵππος), a lyre (λύρα) and a pot (χύτρα)—all of which are used in comedy as metaphorical obscenities for sexualized women. The author contends that an erotic reading of the text accomplishes what no other interpretation can: (1) a unified account of the passage that (2) allows for Socrates’ successful refutation of (3) a proposal in keeping with Hippias’ character. In addition, it explains (4) Socrates’ choice of examples—in particular, the rarely cited χύτρα—and (5) Hippias’ otherwise inexplicable reaction to the χύτρα, as well as (6) the analogous relationship of monkeys and men to pots and girls.

The problem of man's early existence and of the value of culture is discussed in one of the post-classical tragedies, and the answer given is definitely anti-primitivistic.

The longest and most remarkable of Moschion's fragments deals with man's development (fr. 6 N2/Sn., ap. Stob. 1. 8. 38) and runs to 33 well-constructed iambics containing throughout not a single resolved foot. It is uncertain whether Moschion belongs to the fourth or third century b.c. Nevertheless, his account is consistent with the conscious affirmations of progress which were widely attested in the fifth and fourth centuries b.c.

Delia is being carefully watched and the door is locked to keep her in and her lover out (lines 5–6). It is hardly reasonable to suppose that she has in these circumstances been left in possession of the key; it is presumably in the custody of the ianitor. According to Ovid(A.A. iii. 643), what girls in this situation did was to have a duplicate key (adultera clauis) fabricated for use when occasion offered.

The Delphin Ed. note ‘Par. pro fixo habet fcdso’ may, of course, record what is merely a correction. Falso may, on the other hand, have arisen from a gloss on a reading ficto in a manuscript prior to those extant, which could easily have degenerated to fixo. This reading would sufficiently improve the sense of the passage to merit consideration, for lines 17 ff., while couched in general terms, clearly refer to the situation in which Tibullus and Delia are placed and describe the kind of behaviour by which they are to merit Venus' aid.

Concentrating on Propertius 3.21 in particular, this article identifies a previously unnoticed network of allusions by three Roman poets (Catullus, Propertius and Ovid) to one another and to Book 1 of Apollonius Rhodius’ Argonautica. It shows that these intertextual links are pivoted on the three poets’ common use of the verse-ending lintea malo in scenes of departure by sea, and on their common interest in framing other aspects of the nautical context (especially the naval equipment involved and the presence of a favourable wind) in specific ways. Highlighting the presence in all three cases of departing male lovers with traditionally compromised or otherwise dubious claims to heroism, the article argues that each of the three instances shows the poet in question interacting competitively and self-consciously with the usages of his predecessor(s) (and with those usages’ immediate contexts) and exploiting the choices made by them to serve his new context and to advertise his personal skill in the creative deployment of revered poetic models.

The Republic represents the good life as some sort of harmony or composition between the different interests of which the threefold nature of the soul makes it capable. The rational factor, τ λολιστικν, not only chooses which impulses shall be satisfied and which rejected but is credited also with impulses of its own, such as the desire for knowledge, to the importance of which the Republic testifies by various strands of argument. But in Plato's attempt to prove the goodness of this mixed life he may be thought to have relied too much on arguments about its pleasantness. If he had really meant from the first to prove against Thrasymachus that the just life is more prolific in pleasure1 than the unjust, he would have had to undertake the task of proving a necessary connection between just activities and pleasant states of feeling which could scarcely exist unless feelings were under the control of the will. If this had been his intention, the whole weight of the argument would rest on the two comparatively short passages in Book IX (581–3, 583–6) in which he makes first a dubious appeal to experience and then, by an equally dubious piece of metaphysics, attempts to reinforce his ethical conclusion by denying the reality of such pleasures as might tend to throw doubt on it.

This is Snell's text:

What follows is a list of corrections to my ‘Discordia taetra: the history of a hexameter-ending’, CQ 41 (1991), 138–49. Most of these are owed to the researches of Dr Nigel Holmes, author of the preceding article, and I am most grateful to him for his material, and to the editors of CQ for giving me this opportunity for correction; my humble apologies for human error in my pre-CD-ROM era. I am glad to say that none of the article's conclusions are substantially modified by these corrections.

The principate of Augustus coincided with a surge of interest in the short Aristotelian treatise which we now entitle Categories, contributing to its later installation at the outset of the philosophical curriculum and its traditional function as an introduction to logic. Thanks in part to remarks made by Plutarch (Sulla 26.1–2) and Porphyry (Vita Plotini 24.7), the origin of this interest has often been traced to Andronicus of Rhodes: his catalogue (πίνακɛς) and publication of the Aristotelian corpus began with the Categories and may have drawn fresh attention to a previously obscure treatise. But the later Neoplatonic sources name several other philosophers who also discussed the Categories and played an important role in crafting its interpretation during the first centuries of our era. For example, the Neoplatonist Simplicius discusses the views of Stoics and Platonists who questioned the Categories' value as a treatment of grammar or ontology, while others defended its usefulness as an introduction to logic. These early debates, as these later sources suggest, exercised a lasting influence on the shape of subsequent philosophy and philosophical education within and beyond the Aristotelian tradition.

Codex Louaniensis, or L, the best MS. of Caesar in the British Museum (Add. MSS. 10,084), which is assigned to the eleventh century, has been collated by Alfred Holder for his edition of the Bellum ciuile and by Mr. R. L. A. Du Pontet for his edition of the Bellum Alexandrinum and the Bellum Africanum; but for the Bellum Gallicum no collation has hitherto been available. Last year I made one, which I sent to Dr. Meusel. He urged me to publish it, remarking that it would be very useful, as ‘wir haben nun ein sichereres Urteil über die Familie φ.’ Relying upon Holder's collation, he had described L in his own edition of the Bellum ciuile (1906, p. viii) as ‘a twin-brother of Ashburnhamianus’ (S); and so it is in the Bellum ciuile, but, as he acknowledged after reading my collation, not in the Bellum Gallicum. The first folio, comprising i, I–6, §3 (… bono animo in), is by a later hand. The MS. is described in the Catalogue thus: ‘c. Jvlii Caesaris commentariorum libri. Desinit cum verbis “res eis suppeteret” in libro de Bello Africano, cap. 33. Codex membranaceus, sec. XL, sed folium primum a manu recentiori suppletum est. Folio [10,084.].’

At Pol. 7.12, 1331a19–20, Aristotle states it as a matter of fact that the citizenry of the best city should be divided into ‘public messes’ (syssitia). His primary concern in the rest of the chapter is to uncover the optimal way in which syssitia should be organized, and the way in which they should be situated in relation to other facilities, public buildings, agorai and temples in the city. The proposed plan is roughly as follows. Syssitia would be divided into three main sections. First, the syssitia of soldiers would be held at the guardhouses located at strategic points along the walls surrounding the city (1331a20–3). Next come ‘the most supreme syssitia of the magistrates’ (τὰ κυριώτατα τῶν ἀρχείων συσσίτια: 1331a24–5) and the syssitia ‘of the priests’ (τῶν ἱερέων: 1331b5). These would be held at a place appropriately having ‘an appearance directed at establishing virtue and [being] more strongly positioned than the neighbouring parts of the city’ (1331a28–30), that is, the highest place in the city. This envisioned acropolis would also house temples (1331a24–5). Situated below it would be the ‘free agora’, which would include gymnasia (1331a35–7) and would be generally directed at leisurely activity (1331b12). Finally, below the free agora, a ‘necessary agora’ and buildings of officials entrusted with legal, commercial and municipal duties would be established, at a location conducive to importing and exporting goods (1331b6–12).

I AM glad that Dr. Fotheringham in the interesting paper which appeared in the Classical Quarterly (April, 1920, pp. 97–8) adhered to the view that ‘Caesar calculated the new moon for January 1 [45 B.C]…and that this calculation determined the inaugural day of the Julian calendar.’ As the object of my brief note, on which he commented, was merely to show that Groebe had failed to prove that the day in question was January 2, I have only a few questions to ask. But first, in justice to Judeich, I ought to say that his calculations, which Dr. Fotheringham notices, were made with the help of the assistant-astronomer attached to the observatory of the University of Strassburg. While Dr. Fotheringham admits that I was right in maintaining that the new moon of January 2, 45 B.C. (1.26 a.m.) was not visible on the evening of that day, he holds that Groebe was ‘fairly entitled to say’ that the new moon of March 24, 58 B.C. (4.40 p.m.), was visible on March 25. Dr. Fotheringham may be justified in saying that it ought ‘in normal [or abnormally fine ?] weather to have been visible that evening’; but, as I observed in my note, Groebe affirmed that in calculating the time of visibility of the crescent we should accept the mean of the Babylonian estimates, 36 hours—less, I should have added, in the early spring and the winter, more in the summer and autumn. Was he entitled to deduct 9 hours from the mean for an observation made not in the clear atmosphere of the East, but in Switzerland? Dr. Fotheringham tells us that ‘the shortest interval between a new moon and the observation of the moon by Schmidt's naked eye comes’ not, as Groebe said, to 29, but ‘to 25.7 hours.’ But forty-eight of Schmidt's forty-nine observations were made at Athens, where the atmosphere is clearer than in Switzerland. The great difference in visibility which a clear atmosphere makes must strike everyone who goes from this country or from Switzerland to the East or to Northern Africa. I realized it for the first time when I was exploring in Tunisia before the war. Has Dr. Fotheringham or any other trustworthy observer ever seen with the naked eye in an atmosphere no clearer than that of Geneva a moon not more than 27 hours old? If so, is it not remarkable that, as Dr. Fotheringham has said, ‘Hitherto it has been the practice to assume that [in the early spring or the winter and in favourable weather ?] the moon becomes visible on the first evening when she is more than 30 hours old at sunset’?

The interpretation of these words is important for understanding the meaning of in Aristotle. For here, exceptionally, it has been taken to refer to sense-perceptions rather than images.

I quote the Oxford translation of 462a15–24 (by J. I. Beare): ‘From all this, then, the conclusion to be drawn is that the dream is a sort of presentation (), and, more particularly, one which occurs in sleep; since the phantoms just mentioned are not dreams, nor is any other a dream which presents itself when the sense-perceptions are in a state of freedom. Nor is every presentation which occurs in sleep necessarily a dream.

In 1915 a dispute over the meaning and interpretation of lines 3–4 of this poem prompted Ernst Hohl not only to propose reading ‘quo … locos’ instead of ‘quae … loca’ (a conjecture which he rightly abandoned in his edition of the Historia Augusta for the Teubner series in 1927) but also to question whether the poem really was composed by Hadrian.