The anti-Catullan and anti-elegiac perspective characterizing Horace's erotic Odes builds on elements of the biography of his persona found in his juvenile collections, the Satires and the Epodes, where the construction of Horace's poetic autobiography as a lover brings together matters of didactics, ethics and literary criticism.

One of the most remarkable features of the language of early Greek writing is a pervasive rhetorical strategy which consists in personifying objects for the purpose of identifying humans closely associated with them. Such ‘speaking objects’ have no Semitic parallel; how, then, is their conventional status in the Archaic Age to be explained? This article first considers the formulaic language of speaking objects, which is no straightforward transcription of speech, and seeks to explain where it comes from. It then turns to the question of why writers employed the curious strategy of personification by setting it in the broader context of early Greek writing and literature. Variously analogous to herms, slaves and skytalai, speaking objects are shown to have been conceived as messengers acting on behalf of their senders by not speaking in their name.

Different translations of Plutarch's De Pythiae oraculis 404B reflect an interpretative difficulty not yet adequately thematized by exegetes. Plutarch's dialogues on the Delphic oracle describe two perspectives on mantic inspiration: possession prophecy, where the god takes over the prophetess as a passive apparatus, and stimulation prophecy, where the god incites the prophecy, but the prophetess delivers the oracle through her own faculties. Plutarch understands the Pythia at Delphi to exhibit stimulation prophecy, not possession. One of his metaphors for inspiration comes from the theatre: the god ‘puts the oracle into the Pythia's mouth, like an actor speaking through the mask’ (De Pyth. or. 404B [Russell]). Some translators take the metaphor as describing possession prophecy (Goodwin), while others take it as stimulation prophecy (Babbitt)—in other words, it may describe the view Plutarch affirms or the view he rejects. This article assesses the two alternatives, concluding that the theatre metaphor describes possession prophecy.

The Corinthian Speech (Corinthiaca) in the corpus of Dio Chrysostom (Or. 31) is attributed to Favorinus (c.80–160) based on internal criteria of content and style. This article argues that a reference to an author of a Corinthian speech found in a collection of sayings in codex Vaticanus Graecus 1144 is a unique external reference to Favorinus as author of this speech.

This paper defends an interpretation of Plato, Soph. 259c7–d7, which describes a distinction between genuine and pretender forms of ‘examination’ or ‘refutation’ (ἔλεγχος). The passage speaks to a need, throughout the dialogue, to differentiate the truly philosophical method from the merely eristic method. But its contribution has been obscured by the appearance of a textual problem at 259c7–8. As a result, scholars have largely not recognized that the Eleatic Stranger recommends accepting contrary predication as a condition of genuine refutation. After reviewing various proposals to change the text, the paper defends this reading. Finally, the paper turns to the methodological significance of accepting contrary predication. The dialogue depicts contrary predication as an instance of a class of statements that compel the soul's disbelief. Soph. 259c7–d7 suggests that these kinds of statements are a crossroad: one can either reject them and turn to eristic discourse or accept them and practise genuine refutation. The paper reflects on what this indicates about Plato's meditations on contradiction and philosophy.

This article examines the reform of the comitia centuriata in the mid to late third century b.c.e. This involved demoting in voting order the six most prestigious cavalry centuries, distributing the centuries of the first class two per tribe, and assigning one tribe's iuniores to vote first as the centuria praerogatiua. The article argues that this gave more equitable representation to rich citizens from more distant parts of Roman territory, but still preserved the essential military character of the assembly by ensuring that the serving men voted first in any election for consuls and praetors.

This article investigates why Lucretius does not dedicate any section of his poem to atomic size or provide a technical term to describe the concept. This absence is particularly significant because Epicurus’ Letter to Herodotus both uses the term μέγεθος to indicate atomic size and contains a passage reporting specifically on this property. First, the article argues that atomic size and shape are causally redundant in Epicurus’ ontology. Second, it demonstrates that the origin of both shape and size is found in the smallest magnitudes in Epicurean physics, the minima. Drawing on these findings, it concludes that, since atomic size violates the law of parsimony, it is a superfluous entity in the Epicurean system. After analysing passages from the De rerum natura, it suggests that the absence of atomic size in Lucretius may be deliberate. Lucretius’ microphysics works perfectly without introducing a philosophical notion of atomic size, and is more economical and efficient than that of Epicurus.

One of the most distinctive rituals of Roman imperial accession was the adlocutio, the speech delivered by the new emperor to a military assembly, which can be documented from the first to the fifth centuries a.d. This article seeks to explain the extraordinary endurance of this neglected genre of speech by examining its origins, setting and content. After outlining the unusual nature of the accession adlocutio when set against both earlier and contemporary Mediterranean practice, the first half of this article traces its origins to the military culture of the late Roman Republic. In particular, the adlocutio is related to two other rituals which rose to new prominence in the era of the Civil Wars: the acclamation of the victorious general as imperator and the granting of military gifts. In the second part of this article, the setting for the typical adlocutio of the Imperial era is discussed using the often-problematic evidence of our ancient historical sources. The content of the speech itself is then reconstructed primarily through a close reading of our one surviving example, the brief address of Leo I preserved by Peter the Patrician. Finally, the evidence for the origins and content of the speech are brought together in an argument for the speech's survival as a useful tool for emperors seeking to establish a permanent bond with the soldiers they commanded.

This article identifies an ostracism joke in Menander's Samia (364–6) during a climactic scene in which the Athenian Demeas ejects the titular Chrysis from his house. The joke, uttered by a cook who is reacting to Chrysis’ expulsion, plays on the usage of ὄστρακα—broken pieces of pottery—as ballots in the institution of ostracism. The article proposes that the joke references the final abolition of ostracism during Demetrius of Phalerum's reign and reveals Menander's support for the regime.

This article examines the appearances of Augustus in Suetonius’ Lives of the Caesars outside Augustus' own Life. It shows how Suetonius contrasts the positive image of Augustus drawn in the Life of Augustus with the distortion of this image by Augustus’ successors, depicted in the later Lives. In their reception, he is still presented as an ideal to follow, yet as a role model for cruelty (Tiberius), adultery and military failure (Caligula), or lyre-playing (Nero)—roles which Suetonius’ real Augustus never or only marginally assumed. Thus in a series of close and intratextual readings, this article invites a more general reassessment of Suetonius’ work: it suggests that the Lives of the Caesars draw a more critical image of the Principate than has often been said, that they are more consciously part of an image-making process and, above all, that they should more commonly be understood as one whole work, rather than read individually and in isolation.

The following paper proposes that Sallust offers a conceptualization of civil conflict more in line with the Greek paradigm of stasis than with its Roman counterpart bellum ciuile. In doing so, it argues for the actual coexistence of these two differentiated conceptual strands in the political thought of the Late Republic. To this end, Sallust's corpus is analysed to identify the main threads that articulate civil strife in its multifarious manifestations: how it arises and who its protagonists are or, conversely, how it is kept in check, how it is connected to the human passions that drive ideology, and the violence that stems from the clash between political and familial spheres of influence. The article shows how the pathos of familial drama is what characterizes civil conflict for Sallust, rather than the struggle for legitimacy found in Cicero's narrative.

This article argues that at Lucr. 6.391 (icti flammas ut fulguris halent) fulguris is a corruption, and proposes to read sulpuris instead. While the case against fulguris may in itself not be incontrovertible, the advantages of sulpuris include the acquisition of a new Homeric intertext in Il. 8.135 δεινὴ δὲ φλὸξ ὦρτο θεείου καιομένοιο.

This article argues that Caesar puns on the cognomen of Pompey the Great through his use of the adjective magnus at least twice in his Bellum Civile. In each instance, the wordplay contributes to (1) evoking the memory of Pompey's past triumphs and (2) exploring the gulf between past reputation and present reality. By focussing on this particular wordplay, the article contributes to a wider discussion of Caesarean language and wit as well as to studies of Caesar's art of characterization.

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.

About halfway through Terence's Hecyra, Pamphilus sends his slave Parmeno on a fool's errand to find Callidemides, a (non-existent) friend of his (415–50). Previous analyses of this unique exchange have revealed several layers of humour at work, but this article proposes a new reading of the scene through the lens of performance and staging which suggests that Pamphilus’ verbal description of Callidemides is lifted from the physical appearance of Parmeno himself. This scenario accounts for all the elements of the fool's errand provided by Terence and ties the scene into the play's broader thematic interest in stock character subversion.

Aristophanes’ Frogs was first performed at the Lenaea festival of 405 in competition with Plato's Cleophon and Phrynichus’ Muses. This paper argues that Frogs contains a series of agonistic jokes against Phrynichus, most of which have gone unnoticed because he shares his name with a tragic poet and a politician; Aristophanes plays with the ambiguity of the name Phrynichus to mock his Lenaean rival by comparing him unfavourably with his namesakes. Aristophanes ultimately claims that his comedy is superior to that of Phrynichus because he is more successful than his rival in appropriating and redeploying other comedians’ material.

In his second appearance to Aeneas in Aeneid 4 Mercury drives the hero to flee Carthage with a false allegation that Dido is planning an attack, capping his warning with an infamous sententia about the mutability of female emotion. Building on a previous suggestion that Mercury's first speech to Aeneas is modelled on Athena's admonishment of Telemachus at the opening of Odyssey 15, this article proposes that Mercury's second speech as well is modelled on Athena's warning, in which the goddess uses misdirection about Penelope's intentions and a misogynistic gnōmē about the changeability of women's affections to spur Telemachus’ departure from Sparta. After setting out how Virgil divides his imitation of Athena's speech verbally and thematically between Mercury's two speeches, the discussion turns to why both Athena and Mercury adopt these deceptive tactics. The speeches are shown to be culminations of the poets’ similar approaches to creating doubt and foreboding around the queens’ famed capacities for using δόλος. Common features in the ensuing hasty departures of Telemachus and Aeneas further confirm Virgil's use of Odyssey 15 in devising Aeneas’ escape from Carthage.

This article argues that the discovery of Pythagorean volumes in Numa's tomb in 181 b.c. may have played a significant role in the conception of the meeting between Numa and Pythagoras in the last book of Ovid's Metamorphoses, since several features of this event integrate very well into the discourse at the heart of Book 15 on the Greek origins of Roman culture and literature, on the immortality of poetry, and on the relationship between poetry and power. The article further argues that Ennius’ Annals Book 15 may have covered the events up to 179, if that really was the year of Nobilior's dedication of the Aedes Herculis Musarum, and included the discovery of Numa's books in 181; and hence that Ovid may have used the Ennian account of this discovery as a model for the Numa–Pythagoras episode, appropriating the poetic and political meaning that it already had in Annals Book 15.

Hermodorus of Syracuse, a Sicilian disciple of Plato, is reported by Simplicius to have set out a classification of beings, which is of a piece with an argument for principle monism (in Ph. 247.30–248.18 > F 5 IP2; 256.28–257.4 = F 6 IP2). A similar classification appears in Sextus Empiricus’ Aduersus mathematicos X (262–75), where it is officially ascribed to some ‘Pythagoreans’ (Πυθαγορικοί) or ‘children of the Pythagoreans’ (Πυθαγορικῶν παῖδες), but seems ultimately based on Early Academic material. Virtually all commentators have read these classifications conjointly. More radically, both have been taken to record Plato's oral teaching and to give essentially the same categorial scheme, which is regarded as the most developed instance of a so-called ‘Academic doctrine of the categories’. This article re-examines these texts and provides an alternative reading. Section 1 focusses on Hermodorus and defends three theses: (1) there was never such a thing as an ‘Academic doctrine of the categories’; (2) Hermodorus does not seem to recount what Plato said, but to propose an integrated interpretation and defence of aspects of his thought; (3) Hermodorus’ pronouncements about principles are incompatible with other testimonies on Plato's unwritten teaching, notably Aristotle's. Section 2 moves to Sextus and defends a fourth thesis: (4) despite their similarities, the classifications of Hermodorus and Sextus’ Pyrhagoreans are considerably different, though perhaps originated from the same debate.

This article assesses whether Hellenistic war-elephants were given alcohol before battle. First recorded in 1 Maccabees’ account of the battle of Beth-Zechariah (162 b.c.e.), this unusual detail is supported by the later comments of Aelian and Philes of Ephesus. The idea also recalls a failed Ptolemaic attempt to punish the Jews in 3 Maccabees and in Josephus, and resonates with a longstanding association of elephants and alcohol in popular thought. Unfortunately, despite the recent rise in scholarly interest on war-elephants, this issue remains overlooked. This article reassesses the complexities of our sources and the practicalities of Hellenistic battles. Adopting a comparative approach to contemporary Indian material for this practice, it considers the prevalence of elephants in musth in the Indian epics, alongside the etymological link between this condition and Sanskrit concepts of drunkenness. It argues that this connection may have prompted the idea of giving elephants alcohol before battle, despite its unlikeliness as a standard feature of elephant warfare.