‘More light is thrown on the poetic art of Stesichorus by the papyrus-text of his Geryoneis than by all his other fragments together.’ This verdict continues to be as true now as when it was first enunciated. But we are also in the fortunate position of being able to infer much of value about what we may term the pre-history of the legend which the poet took as the basis for his composition. And a key document within this process turns out to be a text that is not preserved upon papyrus, that is not, indeed, included as part of any edition of the poet, and which has been the object of some very serious misconceptions. The relevant section consists of a phrase only three words long, but it is difficult to underestimate their importance, once they are rightly understood.

The speeches of Nicias and Alcibiades in the debate leading up to the launching of the Sicilian expedition (Thuc. 6.9–14, 6.20–3, 6.16–18) contain a significant number of words, phrases, and themes that recur in Thucydides' later chapters reporting the launching of the expedition and its ultimate fate in Sicily. The verbal and thematic echoes often consist of words of sight and hearing; among the recurring themes are rivalry and competition, the contrast between public and private expenditures, and the desire for acquisition and financial profit.

Mr. Powell's ingenious observations on The Simile of the Clepsydra in Empedocles raise afresh the problem of the precise form and construction of the instrument with whose aid Empedokles is said to have reached his memorable conclusion that air is a corporeal substance. That ‘klepsydra’ was the name of the instrument in question is shown by a comparison of Aristotle, Phys. 213a, 22 sqq. with Empedokles, fr. 100; but though so far the fragment is plain, in its detailed interpretation there arises a difficulty which is the subject of the present note. Empedokles is explaining his theory of respiration, and the theory is illustrated by the action of this apparatus. To make clear the general drift of the passage, it may be well to quote again so much of it as is relevant. ‘Thus do all things draw breath in and breathe it out again. All have bloodless tubes of flesh extended over the surface of their bodies; and at the mouths of these the outermost surface of the skin is perforated all over with pores closely packed together, so as to keep in the blood while a free passage is cut for the air to pass through. Then, when the thin blood recedes from these, the bubbling air rushes in with an impetuous surge; and when the blood rushes back it’ (i.e. the air) ‘is breathed out again.

In a recent article I tried to disperse the fog in which modern editions envelop the transmission of the Livian Periochae and Floras' Epitoma de Tito Liuio. Working from editions and catalogues, and without looking at more than a few readily accessible manuscripts, I argued that the Periochae reached the Middle Ages in the company of Floras and nothing else; that the mainstream of the medieval tradition, which probably issued from the region south-west of Paris, derived first from a manuscript that presented Florus and only 1–7 of the 142 Periochae, Λ, and then from one that presented Florus alone, e; that after appearing for several centuries only in N (s. ix1) and P (s. xii2) the complete text of Florus and the Periochae saw a revival in the Italian Renaissance, probably thanks to Petrarch and Boccaccio; and that most Italian manuscripts contaminate the text of e with the complete text. Pending visits to libraries, I left open several questions: whether Λ derived from the source of NP; whether e derived from Λ; whether the Italian manuscripts of the complete text all derive from one source; whether, if so, it was P; whether any of them have escaped contamination in Florus; and whether contamination had already begun in France.

There has been much discussion of the phrase ‘perpetuum… carmen’ and of its relation to Callimachus' rejection of the (Aetia fr. 1. 3 Pfeiffer). Much less has been written about deducite in line 4. However it is, I believe, equally important for the ‘programme’ of Ovid's poem.

Deducere is a metaphor frequently applied to poetry in general with the sense of ‘to write, compose something.’ In certain contexts the reference is much more specific and indicates subtle and polished writing of the kind associated with Callimachus.

A number of recent papers have discussed the episode at Odyssey 10.156–72 in which Odysseus, on the third morning after landing on Circe's island, sees, kills, and transports a huge stag whose meat revives his men, who are exhausted in both body and spirit. Since the incident does not advance the main action, it invites interpretation, particularly since it is so richly elaborated. Naturally, it has received several: that the stag should be understood as a transformed human, and thus prefigures the rest of the episode; that the incident marks the liminality of Odysseus, who is about to lose some of his manhood in remaining for a year on the island; that the stag derives from the magical animal which, in folktale, often leads the hero into the Otherworld or the Underworld; and that it serves, both within its immediate context and within the narrative as told to the Phaeacians, as a figure for heroic action, removed from the battlefield and rendered ‘urbane’ by its emphasis on the cleverness with which Odysseus transports the dead animal rather than on the actual killing. I would like to point to a completely different aspect of the episode and to suggest that although some of these studies may be true pointers to its origin, its function within the narrative is straightforward and does not in itself demand such elaborate interpretation: the incident with the stag belongs to a series of incidents that test the ability of Odysseus and his crew to obtain meat, and so develop central themes of feasting, social order, and leadership.

The disappearance of the imperial biographies written by Marius Maximus is one of the more frustrating losses of Latin literature, for various reasons: the well-known testimony of Ammianus, the interest (and frivolity) of Marius Maximus' attested contribution to the Historia Augusta, his importance, much in dispute, to the writer of that work, the lack of information on much of the period he covered, and, not least, the fascinating role assigned to him by modern scholars, remodelling a previous duality of sources, of bad biographer in contrast to the good Ignotus. It has recently become common practice for the evidence of Ausonius' (so-called) Caesares to be used in the search for this biographer. The suggestion goes back to a dissertation of F. della Corte in 1956/7, and was taken up in his edition of Ausonius' works by Pastorino, and discussed in the following year by Cazzaniga who, though uncertain about the dependence of Ausonius on Marius Maximus, does misleadingly assert (perhaps echoing Momigliano) ‘e certo che l'ultima epigramma tocca Elagabalo, che chiude la silloge’. More recently, della Corte has returned to the question and sketched a possible model for the growth of the whole extant collection of Ausonius' Caesares, on the basis of the manuscript tradition. The same volume contains a contribution to the question by S. d'Elia and includes, by a felicitous piece of editing, an extended footnote in which d'Elia is able to comment on the relevant part of della Corte's paper.

Meanwhile, outside Italy, there have been parallel and independent developments.

My purpose in this note is to examine the evidence for the witness's oath of disclaimer in the Athenian lawcourts. This is an issue on which modern discussions tend to be brief for want of ancient evidence. However, although our ignorance on matters of detail relating to the exomosia remains, and is likely to remain, profound, I believe that we can, by a careful reading of the limited evidence which is available, draw a number of more or less confident conclusions about the form and content of the oath and the degree of restriction it imposed on witness and litigant. The lexicographers have the following to say on pressures applied to recalcitrant witnesses:

Polydeukes 8.37: τóν δ' ο βονλóμενον μαρτρεῖν κλἠτενον το μαρτνρεῖν πρρστιθντεσ ἔδɛι δ αῖτóν ἠ μαρτνρεῖν ζομóσασθαι ὡσ οῖκ εíδεíη ἦ μἤ χιλíασ ποστíνειν. κλητεσθαι μν οῖν στí καλεíσθαι εíσ μαρτνρíαν, κκλητεεῖεσθαι δ τó δíκην óφεíλειν πí τπí τι τσ χιλíασ καταβαλεíν.

One of the gains to be reckoned from the study of nomenclature in the sepulchral inscriptions of the early empire is the gradual abandonment of attempts to distinguish between slave and freeborn on the basis of personal name or cognomen alone, especially when this is of Latin derivation. Nevertheless, one still finds personal cognomina in undated inscriptions adduced as sole evidence for the origin or status of individuals below senatorial rank. Thus in a standard work on freedmen in the early empire, recently reprinted, names such as Agilis, Amandus, Auctus, Communis, Donatus, Faustus, Felix, etc., are said to be commonly servile, but others such as Aquila, Bassus, Capito, Cams, Celer, Crescens, etc., are taken as ingenuous. The criteria used in making such a distinction are subjective and arbitrary and the statistics based on them are largely valueless. It is the purpose of this note to consider briefly on this question the evidence of the personal nomenclature of the Imperial slaves and freedmen. In this group, the Familia Caesaris, no problem of status arises, and the fact that the majority of their inscriptions can be dated, at least approximately, makes it possible to trace the chronological development of the use of cognomina ingenua by one important group of servile origin from the first to the early third century A.D. Moreover, such a development is useful evidence for change in the social structure of the early empire.

The significance of the dating of Enmann's Kaisergeschichte in the controversy which has long surrounded the Historia Augusta is common knowledge to all scholars who have more than a nodding acquaintance with the period. Enmann himself concluded that the KG ended with or shortly after Diocletian's accession. This was a necessary hypothesis for Enmann in 1884 because the H.A. had clearly used the KG and the self-proclaimed authorship and dating of the former were generally accepted. None the less in Enmann's opinion the resemblances between Victor and Eutropius continued into the sole reign of Constantius II down to the Battle of Strasbourg in 357 and Enmann was compelled to ascribe this to a ‘continuation’ of the KG.

The meaning of κερτομω and its congeners in Homer has been the subject of debate in this journal. Jones has argued that ‘to κερτομ⋯ω someone is to speak in such a way as to provoke (whether intentionally or not) a powerful emotional reaction’, whether of anger or fear, and thus means ‘“to utter stinging words at [someone]”, “pierce to the heart”, “cut to the quick”, rather than merely “provoke” This definition seems to work well enough for some cases, but certainly not for all, and especially not for the passage from which the whole controversy began: Iliad 24.649, where Achilles speaks to Priam ༐πικερτομέωυ. As Richardson says in his Iliad commentary, ‘there is no sign that Akhilleus’ speech has this direct effect [i.e. arouses fear] on Priam’. Jones's article was responding to an earlier one by J. T. Hooker, who attempted to ascertain the sense of Achilles’ ༐πικερτομέυ by surveying the usage of kertom- words throughout Homeric epic. He concluded that the basic meaning is ‘to taunt’ or, more abstractly, it ‘indicates the provocation of another person into behaving in a certain way, whether that is the behaviour desired by the speaker… or is not desired by the speaker’. The problem was that this definition did not seem to fit the very line from which his inquiry began, the words of Achilles to Priam. Hooker then hypothesized that the verse betrayed signs of an ‘imperfect adaptation’ of a different version of the poem in which Achilles taunted a defeated enemy or perhaps preserved his grudge against Agamemnon to its end. This explanation is unpersuasive.

The treatment of the goatherd Melanthius in these lines received remarkably little animadversion from earlier commentators (who may have been inhibited by the very brutality of the actions described). In contrast, the late Manuel Fernandez-Galiano devoted an extremely full note to the passage. One may wonder, however, whether he was right to base it on the automatic assumption that what we have depicted here is an act of murder. He himself admits that we are not ‘told exactly at what moment the unfortunate Melanthius dies’. (This observation goes back as far as Eustathius' commentary ad loc. (1934.43f.):πότομος αὕτη κα δεινοτάτη ποιν, ξ ἧς εἰκς κα θανεῖν τν Μελάνθιον, εἰ κα ποιητς κα αὐτ σιγι. Such lack of specificness would be most unlike Homer, and the removal of hands, feet, ears, nose and genitalia would be a remarkably laborious and uneconomical mode of instantly killing someone. Since we are not told that Melanthius dies I infer that he did not, any more than Eurytion did at Od. 21.300–2, in similarly trying circumstances: ‘they cut off his ears and nostrils with the sharp brass; but he, injured in his feelings, went about, enduring that calamity with a frantic mind’, to quote the translation by Buckley for which Housman was so grateful.

The struggle for and passage of the so-called Licinio-Sextian rogations of 367 b.c. is generally regarded as the climactic moment of the ‘struggle of the orders’. According to Livy, this year saw the ratification of a package of three laws. One limited possession of land. Another required that all money having been paid toward the interest on a debt be counted against the principal, and that the remainder of the debt be paid off in three annual instalments. The third law, which has received far the most attention in the sources and in modern scholarship, ended the practice of the annual election of tribuni militum consulari potestate, restoring the two-man consulship and requiring that one of the two consuls each year come from the plebs. The centrality of the struggle over these laws in Livy's account of the fourth century and their obvious effect, as reflected in the fasti by the subsequent election of two consuls every year, have led scholars to accept as genuine the tradition that an important reform of the Roman constitution took place in this year. However, every element of the laws, and of the narrative of how those laws came to be, has come under the scrutiny of modern scholarship. The most thoroughgoing of these criticisms is that offered by von Fritz, who argued that Livy and his sources completely misunderstood the tradition that they were interpreting.

The short treatise known as Περὶ κόσμου (De mundo) is a learned piece of protreptic addressed to Alexander, ‘the best of princes’, usually identified with Alexander the Great. The treatise is traditionally attributed to Aristotle, and although it does espouse recognizably Aristotelian views, it contains various doctrinal and linguistic elements which have led the large majority of scholars to regard it as inauthentic. The dating of the treatise is a more controversial matter, though most scholars would put it somewhere in the Hellenistic period.