The Times Literary Supplement of November 8, 1917, contained, under the title of Socrates recognitns, a review of Plato's Biography of Socrates, a lecture delivered by Professor A. E. Taylor to the British Academy in the early part of last year. The opening sentence of the review is as follows: ‘Next to the problem of the Gospels ranks that of the Platonic dialogues amongst those most vital to the history of the human spirit.’ A little further down the reviewer says: ‘It is much to the credit of British scholarship—and especially to that of the University of St. Andrews—that it should have attacked these problems with untiring energy, and propounded solutions which, although they run counter to most of the traditional tendencies of historical and philosophical criticism, have not only challenged attention, but are carrying conviction even to unlikely quarters.’ And again, at the end of the article, we read this passage: ‘It is scarcely to be thought that the ground won by the scholars of St. Andrews will be held without counter-attack; but this is slow to mature, and in the meanwhile such essays as the subject of this notice, with which we may couple the paper recently read to the British Academy by Professor Burnet on the Socratic doctrine of the soul, serve to buttress and consolidate the position.’

This note argues that repeated uses of onus ‘burden’ in Plaut. Asin. 591–745 pun on Greek ὄνος ‘ass’ and, in so doing, activate a network of other puns and hints at the play's title, asses (the animal), and both homoerotic and anal sex.

This paper proposes a new synthetic account of the presence of Cicero as both character and source in Lucan's Bellum Ciuile. Lucan's treatment is derived primarily from Virgil's technique for creating intertextually complex characters, but further builds on Sallust's displacement of Cicero in his narrative of the Catilinarian conspiracy and on the declamatory practice of reducing the orator to a few prominent and recognizable traits. Cicero the character, as he briefly appears at the opening of the seventh book, is not simply an ahistorical caricature: he is constructed through a careful series of allusions designed to indict his use of violence in the suppression of Catiline. Other prominent aspects of Cicero in the tradition are displaced and transferred to other characters more important to Lucan's design, Cato and Pompey. Lucan's depiction of Pompey, especially his death and decapitation, draws on the language and affect of the tradition associated with Cicero, using Cicero's own words and the obituary of Cicero in the lost historical epic of Cornelius Severus. Finally, the language of Cicero's peace-making efforts in his correspondence, suppressed in Lucan's depiction of him as a warmonger, forms an important part of the narrator's own emotional evocations of the impending catastrophe of civil war. The combination of models Lucan uses is more broadly reflective of his technique in composing a historical epic.

Professor Kamerbeek in a recent article raises some interesting questions about the value of the manuscript of Sophocles Parisinus gr. 2712, universally known as A. Ever since the time of Brunck, who was the first to use this manuscript extensively, it has been considered second only to Laurentianus XXXII 9 (L) as a source of correct readings and as a witness of the old, i.e. pre-Byzantine, tradition of Sophocles. But the importance of A has been seriously challenged by Alexander Turyn, who has sought to show that in Ajax, Electra, and Oedipus Tyrannus—the three plays which constitute the Byzantine Triad of Sophocles—A's text is principally that of the recension of Manuel Moschopulus (fl. c. A.D. 1290)—or, more strictly, the version of that recension which includes scholia by Maximus Planudes and some slight variations in the poetic text.

These are the very last words of Eumolpus' testament. The editors all print them thus, but I suspect a hidden corruption in devoverint. The text may seem to have an acceptable meaning, but only on a superficial reading inattentive to the whole context. A certain exegetical discomfort becomes noticeable if the translations are compared: Ernout renders ‘maudire mon âme’, Ehlers in Müller's second and third editions translates ‘sie meinen letzten Atemzug herbeiwünschten’ (thus giving spiritus a strained translation as though it were extremus or ultimus spiritus), and Cesareo- Terzaghi's edition (under Pasquali's supervision) prefers to render with a nuance of the future ‘con quel cuore stesso con cui mi avranno maledetto l'anima’. Obviously, devovere is being understood as synonymous with exsecrari. This is an attested secondary meaning, ‘curse’, ‘execrate’, which developed from the technical religious one connected with the ritual of devotio. According to this interpretation, the captatores cursed the fact that Eumolpus, apparently a sick man on the verge of death, continued to live longer than they could reasonably have expected when they began to court him. But the expression does not seem adequate for conveying this meaning: instead, we would expect something like vitam meam devoverint or me et caput meum devoverint or, better, me ad mortem devoverint, or similarly explicit expressions.

Since Sir Ronald Syme wrote a paper on the legions under Augustus, there has not been much development on the movement of legions in Illyricum before a.d. 9. The basic reference work on the matter is still J.J. Wilkes's Dalmatia; and the last considerable upgrade was made in this very journal—in the paper by Stephen Mitchell, who showed that legio VII was most probably one of the legions that Marcus Silvanus brought from Galatia to fight the Pannonians at the Volcaean marches in a.d. 7. Since the presence and the movements of the legions in Illyricum during the Augustan era is clouded by the lack of new discoveries of inscriptions, I find it suitable to quote L. Keppie's note from the preface of the second edition of The Making of the Roman Army: ‘The pace of epigraphic discovery has not slackened, though the number of military inscriptions which can confidently be dated to before a.d. 14 remains disappointingly small.’

If we consult the Anthologia Lyrica of E. Diehl and the Geschichte der griechischen Literatur of Schmid-Stählin, we find that they consider as genuine the three epigrams on Hermae which the Palatine Anthology attributes to Anacreon. The question of the authenticity of these epigrams has been for long a matter of dispute, but we may shed further light on it if we take into account the spread of the cult of Hermes in Attica and Anacreon's visit, or possibly visits, to Athens.

In his Ars grammatica Fl. Sosipater Charisius quotes long portions of text which he has taken over from books of other grammarians. One of these quotations starts at 246.18 (‘C. Iulius Romanus ita refert de adverbio sub titulo ϕορμν’) and continues up to 289.17. At 246.19–252.31 we find a long argument in which Romanus offers a sort of introduction to the theory of the adverb. This introduction is a surprise to modern readers because it is written in a very rhetorical manner. I mention this because otherwise one cannot understand why at 251.22ff. the author of a Latin treatise on grammar should quote from a Greek work on Aristotle's Categories by a certain Aquila.

In addition to the technical writers on music, a number of ancient authors, notably Plutarch and Athenaeus, have recorded several musical terms, either by way of illustrative material—Plutarch is particularly given to musical similes and metaphors—or in the course of anecdotes about music and musicians. As musical terminology in different ages contains words or phrases not only of general acceptance and familiarity, but other more ephemeral expressions which belong to the jargon of a narrower circle of executants and critics, it is possible that the musical significance of such words, when used in an apparently non-musical context, has escaped notice.

Line 2 has puzzled editors: ‘The significance of the name is beyond knowledge’ (Shackleton-Bailey); ‘Hie versus inter difHcillimos Properti est’ (Enk). It should mean, ‘a door known to the chastity of Tarpeia’, i.e. ‘known to Tarpeia when she was still chaste‘, i.e. ‘known to Tarpeia as a girl’; and I suggest it means just that.

The rape (or threatened rape) of a sleeping Europa in Plato Comicus has curiously not attracted any attention from critics commenting on later texts which narrate the story of Europa. Yet, the motifs of night, sleep and dreaming play a prominent role in the Europa poems of both Moschus and Horace. This article will investigate the role of these motifs and argue for a closer connection between these two poems than has thus far been allowed. It will also maintain that, in both poems, the suggestion that the heroine was (or could be) raped in her sleep is lurking in the background and that, if taken into consideration, it can significantly expand our scope of interpretation and perhaps account for some features which would otherwise be hard to explain. While it is not unlikely that the two authors to be discussed here had direct access to Plato Comicus' Europa, my argument does not rely on knowledge of this comedy, which could, after all, be parodying an earlier tragedy. Rather, the main thesis of this article is that a classical or early Hellenistic version of Europa's myth (which Plato Comicus may either reflect or be the source of) had the young woman raped in her sleep. This tradition, then, informs these two later poems, which may or may not have been directly influenced by Plato Comicus’ rendition.

A list of the principal works referred to is given in my previous article, ‘Notes on Some Passages in Seneca's Tragedies and the Octavia’, CQ 39 (1989), 186–96.

In an earlier article I sought to analyse the metaphor of withdrawal in the last argument of Plato's Phaedo for the immortality of the soul.1 The key to the metaphor lies, I believe, in recognizing the paradox that in terms of Plato's metaphor something stays as it is, for example continues to be fire and to be hot, or to be cold and to be snow, by running away. Plato's argument is that fire will either ‘run away’, i.e. it will escape the onslaught of cold, and so continue to be fire, or else it will perish. For in terms of Plato's metaphor if something which is characterized essentially by one of a pair of opposites, in the way that soul is, were to ‘stay behind’ then it would have to ‘accept’ the opposite of the form by which it is characterized, and that it cannot do. Fire cannot be cold. Snow cannot be hot. The soul cannot be dead.

From the beginning of the seventeenth century it has generally been held that the second Medicean is the parent of all the other extant manuscripts. In two articles C. W. Mendell has demonstrated that Leidensis B.P.L. 16. B is the manuscript once owned by Rudolphus Agricola (d. 1485) and later by Th. Ryck, whose edition (Lugd. Batav. 1687) makes frequent allusion to its readings. Mendell's attempt to show further that L (= Leidensis) represents a tradition independent of the Medicean has found little support until recently, when E. Koestermann, in the course of preparing the latest Teubner edition of Annals (1960) and Histories (1961) became convinced from his own study of L that Mendell's view—in spite of some arguments of dubious validity—was essentially correct. In an article in Philologus (civ [i960], 92–115) and in the preface to his edition of Histories Koestermann has marshalled the arguments which he believes prove L's independence of the Medicean line of descent. Since the new valuation that Koestermann puts upon L has produced a drastic revision of both text and apparatus criticus in his new editions, it may be worth while to examine the evidence that Koestermann adduces in support of his belief in L's independence.

The Aldine editor, no doubt put off in part by the expressionhad the text printed as given by P (the sole witness for this part of the play), but punctuated with commas after and , so that could go withAccording to Elmsley, it was Musgrave who removed the comma after, adducing T. 276 to show taking a dative. But, continues Elmsley, the simple in this and other examples is taking a dative of the thing, never of the person. Accordingly he prints Pierson′s easy emendationproposed independently by Reiske and printed almost simultaneously with Elmsley by Matthiae. The resulting reading has sufficiently satisfied all editors from then until the present day; there is not one, as far as I am aware, who does not print it. In our century the line has not been the object of any controversy.

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.

Cicero, in his letters (Fam. 9, 22), writes the following sentence (§ 2): memini in senatu disertum consularem ita eloqui: ‘hanc culpam maiorem an illam dicam?’ potuit obscenius? ‘non’ inquis ; ‘non enim ita sensit’ Wherein does the coarseness lie? Critics (cf. Tyrrell in his edition of the letters) find in (il)lam dicam a word ‘ landicam,’ which they define by ‘clitoris’. But possibly culpam is, whether by equivoque or by definition, the offending word (cf. Shuckburgh's translation, 3, p. 295, where, after characterizing the interpretation just mentioned as far-fetched, he suggests an equivoque between culpam and culleus).