The lion’s share of attention given to the Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas has focussed—not unreasonably—on Perpetua, the eponymous heroine, and on the ways in which her voice and character have been manipulated. But she is not the only figure in this text who is made to sing a tune. This article concentrates on the two military characters mentioned in the Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas—Pudens, optio carceris, and the unnamed tribunus—to suggest that we should pay more attention to the deployment and characterization of minor martyrological characters. An examination of Pudens and the tribune reveals previously understudied facets of the text, such as the anonymous Editor’s hand in attempting to stitch together Perpetua’s diary with his own concluding narrative, and the anxiety of the Carthaginian Christian community to be positively recognized by Roman authority figures. Finally, this examination contributes to previous debates over the text’s original language and date of composition, suggesting that the Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas was written in Latin in the early third century—against a recent charge that the text is a late antique forgery.

This note argues for the restoration of the MS reading ἀέξϵι in Orph. fr. 779d v. 5 Bernabé (= 287 Kern), which transmits verses from the poem Πϵρὶ ἐπϵμβάσϵων (On Planetary Entrances) attributed to Orpheus.

In the Laws, Plato argues that legislation must not only compel, but also persuade. This is accomplished by prefacing laws with preludes. While this procedure is central to the legislative project of the dialogue, there is little interpretative agreement about the strategy of the preludes. This article defends an interpretation according to which the strategy is to engage with citizens in a way that anticipates their progress toward a more mature evaluative outlook, and helps them grow into it. The article shall refer to this strategy as proleptic engagement. While the virtuous ways of life required by law are intimately connected to happiness, the preludes do not persuade by spelling out this connection. Rather, they persuade by telling citizens what they need to hear so that they can come to appreciate this connection for themselves, in the context of their own lives. While the preludes are many and varied, this article argues that all preambular material can be understood as proleptic engagement.

This article combines allegorical, symbolic and metaphorical readings with modern theoretical approaches (primarily, affect theory) to explore the representations of objects and bodies within Peristephanon 9. In Prudentius’ poem, the tortured body of Cassian overlaps with the tormented soul of the poet; the written text is both a co-actor in Cassian’s death and a vehicle for the perpetuation of his extra-textual memory. Figurative language provides words and concepts with new meanings so that a pen can transform into a sword, writing into torture. Through a process of materialization and resemantization, the physical objects become agents in the narrative construction.

Uncertainty about the pragmatic context, the fundamental content and hence the philosophical significance of Xenophanes B6 DK prevents this comparatively extensive fragment from playing much of a role in scholarly discussions. This essay reviews interpretations of that difficult text and then offers a new reading which arguably better accords with the preserved Greek, Xenophanes’ other fragments and ritual custom. It is also suggested how B6 fits in with Xenophanes’ philosophical and specifically ethical concerns as evidenced in other fragments.

One of the tendencies among scribes who transmitted the corpus Philonicum was to divide treatises into smaller units. This article argues that Philo’s De gigantibus and Quod Deus sit immutabilis were originally a single treatise that scribes split in an effort to create thematic unities for each half. Two lines of evidence support this conclusion. There is significant evidence that the two treatises circulated as a single work in antiquity. The most important evidence lies in the titles. Eusebius knew a compound title for a single work and the eighth-century compilers of the Sacra parallela attributed fragments from Quod Deus sit immutabilis to De gigantibus. The second line of evidence is internal. De gigantibus is noticeably shorter than any other treatise in the Allegorical Commentary with the exception of De sobrietate that may be incomplete. More importantly, the work concludes with an internal transitional phrase that introduces the citation that opens Quod Deus sit immutabilis. While Philo creates a bridge between treatises, this is an internal transition marker. For these reasons, we should discontinue following the scribal tradition and reunite the two halves of Philo’s treatise.

This article proposes a new emendation to a problematic passage from the pseudo-Aristotelian Problêmata, section 19. It surveys prior editors’ strategies for emending the passage and explains why the new proposal is preferable. This emendation also is supported by the Latin manuscript tradition, as a concluding discussion of Bartholomew of Messina’s Latin translation reveals.

In Plato’s Statesman , the stranger compares the statesman to a weaver. The modern reader does not know a priori how the statesman and the weaver resemble one another and therefore could be compared, but Socrates the younger reacts as if the comparison is natural. This note suggests, with reference to the gender division of labour in ancient Greece, that the male ‘weaver’ did not do much weaving but was a supervisor, which means that the fundamental similarity between a statesman and a weaver is that both managed subordinates. This cultural knowledge explains why the comparison seems natural to Socrates the younger.

Nemesianus’ eclogues are an important witness to the development of classical culture, being the last extant collection of bucolic poems before the dramatic socio-political shifts of the fourth century. Within his reuse of Virgilian and Calpurnian characters, tropes and narrative structures, however, resides a consciousness of contemporary issues political, societal and cultural. In none of the third-century poet’s four eclogues is this more apparent than in his programmatic first. This article reads Nemesianus’ inaugural eclogue as a fictionalization of such concerns, analysing its thematic structure with a view to the poet’s historical context. Amidst the preoccupation with loss, senectitude and nostalgia, it becomes clear that Nemesianus intended his eclogues—with the first as its primary expression—to be a poetic response to the crises of his era, one which finds recourse not in hoping for a new political Golden Age but in the consolatory and preservative power of a poetry oriented towards—and reverent of—the past.

The article discusses a passage in chapter 49 of the Hippocratic treatise On Regimen. It defends the transmitted text against a conjecture proposed by R. Joly, the author of the Corpus Medicorum Graecorum edition.

Late antique laws are rhetorically crafted and often bolstered by expressions of popularized philosophy and theology. This article presents historical evidence that reveals a close link between literary culture and the drafting of laws. It then examines a constitution of Valentinian III against tomb violators (Nouella Valentiniani 23) as case-study. The rhetorical preamble of this law presents a concise argument for the immortality of the soul. At first sight, the phrase nec uana fides which features in this context seems nothing more than a learned, yet merely ornamental, allusion to Virgil (Aen. 4.12) with no further bearing on the content. This article argues that the passage of Nouella Valentiniani 23 might in fact be a reminiscence of Prudentius (Cath. 3.196), who had used the same Virgilian tag to allude to Paul (1 Cor. 15:13–17), thus expressing faith in the immortality of the soul and in the doctrine of resurrection. The author of the Virgilian cento uersus ad gratiam Domini (or Tityrus) also redeployed the same phrase nec uana fides with reference to the immortality of the soul, and the cento’s intertextual relationship with Prudentius might contribute to the evidence about its date. This complex net of intertextual references (Virgil, Paul, Prudentius) bestows authority on this legal admonition and justifies an appreciation of the late Roman constitutions as literature.

This article supports Livineius’ deletion of τϵ καὶ ϕλέγϵι in Soph. Aj. 714 πάνθ’ ὁ μέγας χρόνος μαραίνϵι by means of a comparative examination of tragic quotations in Stobaeus’ Anthology, where Aj. 714 is quoted without τϵ καὶ ϕλέγϵι (1.8.24).

This article argues that the Virgilian narrator’s account of Juno’s anger at the outcome of the Judgement of Paris at Aen. 1.25–7 contains an allusion, which seems to have gone unnoticed, to a prologue transmitted in some manuscripts of the Rhesus attributed to Euripides. It also discusses the problem of the origin of this prologue. Finally, it suggests some interpretative possibilities arising from recognition of the allusion.

In recent years there has been a marked escalation in the study of Graeco-Roman associations. Useable data for recreating associational groups usually derive from the inscriptions embedded in stone monuments that have survived in the material record. Because data of this kind usually originate from groups with middling economic resources, it is imperative to focus particular attention on any data emerging from groups lower on the socio-economic scale. The second-century b.c.e. papyrus fragments of SB 3.7182 from Philadelphia in Egypt are a prime resource in this regard, surfacing from what must have been one of the most inconspicuous of associations. This article offers a detailed investigation of the general prosopography of the low-level association comprising a few enslaved men. It proposes that ten meetings are evident in the heavily damaged associational ledgers; that the association consisted of enslaved members of three distinct households; that a subscription or epidosis was collected at one meeting; and that we get a rare glimpse of low-level generosity enacted within the association in relation to the payment of membership fees, as well as an extremely rare glimpse of the agency of the enslaved.

Alexandrian poetry is mostly characterized by the metrical forms of the hexameter and the elegiac distich, but also provides evidence of experimental attempts to innovate formal aspects of rhythm and metre. Taking inspiration from the archaic tradition of monody and song-making, especially in the third century b.c. poets toyed with verse forms that allowed them to ‘widen the repertory’ of metres available for the composition of literary poems,1 using them in stichic forms, as markers of poetic expertise. This article explores some of these experiments and aims at unveiling the Hellenistic reuse of metres from the archaic tradition of lyric poetry (such as the greater asclepiad and the pherecratean) to evoke specific narrative tropes, thus generating literary associations through metre.

The drinking party at Medius’ in Babylon on 31 May 323 b.c., marking the onset of Alexander’s terminal illness, is explored from contemporary and later texts. Close reading of fragments by Nicobule and Aristobulus, set beside the reticence of the court daybooks (Ephemerides) and the studied vagueness of secondary sources, clarifies in detail the sequence of events. Justin, Plutarch and the author of the Liber de morte Alexandri cast light on the silence imposed by the King’s successors. A narrative emerges of the day itself, the spread of rumour, the two false explanations for Alexander’s death that were successively propagated, and the third explanation, most probably correct, that Aristobulus was first to publish.

Marcus Aemilius Lepidus was one of three Roman legati sent to Greece in 201/200 b.c.e. and ended up confronting Philip V of Macedon at Abydus. Scholars have debated whether this young man was already a senator by 201 or had yet to become one. This paper argues that he had actually been a senator since 216, enrolled in Buteo’s extraordinary lectio of one hundred and seventy-seven new senators, after he had gained a corona ciuica and spolia ex hoste during the early stages of the Hannibalic War.

This article analyses a passage of Plutarch which relates that Alexander the Great visited Cyprus and appointed the gardener Abdalonymus, descendant of the Cinyrads, as king of Paphos. While historical records attest to a king Abdalonymus in Sidon, Plutarch’s account is clearly ahistorical. Alexander never set foot in Cyprus, and Abdalonymus never ruled over Paphos. The transfer of the story from Sidon to Cyprus was not a simple factual mistake, however, but a deliberate political and propagandistic device, created by an unknown author with strong Ptolemaic interests, most likely in conjunction with the establishment of Ptolemaic dominion over Cyprus by Ptolemy I. Through the long-standing Ancient Near Eastern tradition of royal gardening symbolism, which significantly influenced the island and the Levant, the story aims to legitimize the new Ptolemaic rule in Paphos, the capital of Ptolemaic Cyprus. By lending a venerable air to the new order, the story offers an alternative narrative to the dramatic death of Nicocles, the last king of Paphos and priest of the local great-goddess, who claimed descent from Cinyras and eventually committed suicide under pressure from Ptolemy I.

In addition to the acrostic–telestic combination natu ceu aes ‘from birth like bronze’, Catullus poem 60 contains the earliest attested Latin mesostic (mi pia ‘dutiful to me’), which runs down its caesuras. The use of pius anticipates the language of aristocratic obligation that is used of Lesbia in the epigrams and is perhaps also a wordplay on the praenomen of Clodia’s father, Appius. The complex acrostics and the syntax of mi pia, along with the setting of poem 59 (in sepulcretis), suggest that poem 60 can be read as a literary epitaph. Additional closural elements in the poem include an allusion to Callimachus and a sphragis in the form of a play on the author’s name.

In this note I argue that the generally accepted view that Diodorus preserved a tradition which limited the fourth-century anarchy in Rome to one year is groundless, and that the author’s confused chronology of the Early and Middle Republic strongly suggests that in the source he followed the solitudo magistratuum lasted several years, as in other reports.