In his excellent commentary on Callimachus' fifth Hymn, A. W. Bulloch has discussed the many allusions to earlier literature out of which this poem is made. He has, however, missed one: an allusion to Hesiod's Catalogue, which, as I shall show here, not only sheds light on one of the poem's most puzzling scenes – Athena's consolatio to the nymph Chariclo – but also helps to explain the articulation and function of the poem's first, so-called ‘mimetic,’ section.

Stasis-theory seeks to classify rhetorical problems (declamation themes, or real forensic and deliberative situations) acccording to the underlying structure of the dispute that each involves. Such a classification is of interest to the practising rhetor, since it may help him identify an appropriate argumentative strategy; for example, patterns of argument appropriate to a question of fact (did the defendant do what is alleged?) may be irrelevant in an evaluative dispute (was the defendant justified in doing that?).

This paper seeks to dispel the notion that Mark Antony and the Senate indulged in a cat-and-mouse game over the control of Caesar's archives (his commentarii) in the weeks immediately following the Ides of March. At stake was whether unpublished documents drawn up by Caesar before his death should be ratified and put into force. The belief that the Senate and Antony contended over this issue and that Antony got the upper hand rests primarily on what I hope to show is a misinterpretation of two key passages in the Philippics. Moreover, since the standard interpretation of these two passages appears to be supported by Dio's account of how Antony cajoled the Senate into permitting him a freer hand to review and publish documents found in Caesar's archives, it will be necessary to have a closer look at Dio's probable sources for this particular section of his history.

Augustus' account of the events of 28 and 27 b.c. is maddeningly vague. In part the problem is simply that his individual phrases are ambiguous, but a more fundamental difficulty is the very nature of the Res Gestae itself. The idea of publishing such a self-satisfied account of one's own doings is so alien to our modern sensibilities that we tend to read the Res Gestae as though Augustus were capable of saying almost anything. We have concluded too easily, therefore, that at R.G. 34.1 Augustus is telling an outrageous lie, or at least an outrageous half-truth. After saying that he ended the civil wars, and acquired supreme power, Augustus claims to have handed over the state to the senate and the people of Rome. On the traditional reading this last claim is seriously misleading; Augustus may have handed over the state, but he fails to mention that the senate handed it back.

In the following two passages we read Apollo's epiphany to (respectively) the Trojan leader Aeneas and Callimachus

This satire has often been accounted a poor poem, repetitive, irrelevant and self-indulgent. Rather than recover one more cultured display of refinement as disguise, this essay explores instead the fall-out that radiates from a classic text's play with the ‘loose talk’ of plebeian gossip. The proposal here is that Horace and his intimates could, and can, easily share a view of the view of ‘their’ populace, but at the price of surrendering control over the import of their intervention. This claim turns on the figure ‘Brutus’, which noises a republican politics of resistance to tyranny through what linguists term nonphonation: as we shall find, Horace both tells a dummy tale about ‘przemilczenie’ (῾not speaking about something, ‘failing to mention something’) and at the same time performs a dumbshow of his own.

These notes discuss some passages where what Livy wrote may not be printed in standard editions. In some a new reading, or new punctuation, is proposed; in others the merits of neglected conjectures are canvassed.

The story of the death and catasterism of Chiron is one of the most charming and skilfully-presented episodes in the Fasti. Ovid relates how Hercules, in the course of his twelve labours, came to Mount Pelion, and was hospitably received by the centaur Chiron and his pupil, the young Achilles. While admiring Hercules' splendid arms, Chiron drops one of the hero's poisoned arrows onto his foot. Despite desperate attempts to find a remedy, he fails to recover, but is transformed into the constellation of Centaurus.

By far the best edition is that of L. D. Reynolds (OCT, 1965). Other modern editions referred to are those of W. C. Summers (Select Letters, 1910); R. M. Gummere (Loeb edition, 1918–25); F. Préchac (texte) et H. Noblot (traduction) (Budé edition, 1945–64).

Housman reads assueta euolitans; the former word is a conjecture of his own, the latter a conjecture of Ellis, which I think he would have ignored if the relevant fascicle of the Thesaurus had been available to show that euolitare occurs once in Columella and then (if at all) not before the sixth century. If assueto is sound, mundi must be changed to mundo (an isolated variant) or to another noun. Bentley read mundo, and this may well be the right solution: the eagle carries thunderbolts to the sky, “cui scilicet per diuturnas operas assueuerat”. Shackleton Bailey (1979, 162) emends to nisu (on the theory that this fell out after -mina and was replaced by the stopgap mundo). If emendation were required, I suggest that motu would be palaeographically more satisfactory; the assumed process of corruption is well illustrated by 3.82, motu GL: modum M: mundo LV.

The extravagant, not to say fulsome, praise showered upon Nero in Lucan's proem to his De Bello Civili (1.33–66) tends to divide scholars neatly into two factions. In the blue corner are those for whom it is ‘obviously’ sarcastic or ironic in some degree, whether they consider it intended to be circulated privately or understood only by a small group of initiates, or else see it as actually being designed to offend the princeps. In the red we find those who attempt to explain what the modern palate finds offensive by reference to the Realien of Nero's reign and to the processes of literary representation in general—and what we loosely call ‘rhetoric’ in particular—current in the poetry of the time.

The episode at Croton is the last series of events we possess from the surviving Satyrica, though not necessarily the last part of the novel in its original form. The action takes place in a town which no longer existed at the suggested time of the novel's composition. The plot is focused, mainly, on two themes: legacy-hunting and Encolpius' impotence. His unsuccessful relationship with the nymphomaniac Circe (126.1–130.8) and his painful experience with the witch-like priestesses Proselenos and Oenothea (131.1–139.5) are manifestations of the latter theme. Philomela's prostitution of her children (140.1–11) is a brief example of the former theme and shows the kind of gifts the Crotonians offered Eumolpus in order to win his favour and a share in his vast legacy (124.4). The purpose of this paper is to demonstrate that the anecdote of the matron Philomela was composed by Petronius as a narrative equivalent of a theatrical farce. The paper is divided in two parts. The first aims to establish the theatrical (mimic) backcloth of the story, in front of which the ensuing action is going to take place. The second shows the theatrical nature of the anecdote itself, i.e. the structure, the characters, the staging, the language and the multiple levels of its description that demonstrate its theatricality.

‘[Valerius'] Argonautica is a story of high adventure, not a poème à thèse’: so stated Garson in 1965. Strand later added that the essential nature of this poem and the choice of subject-matter was determined by poetic inability; he describes the prooemium to Valerius' Argonautica as ‘a recusatio: the theme of the fall of Jerusalem is beyond his powers, and it would instead be treated by Domitian who was fit for such an arduous task; Valerius had to content himself with the theme of an old myth’. It is these two opinions that I wish to question in this article. Indeed, alarm bells immediately sound at Strand's interpretation of the poet's recusatio. It has long been recognized that the original Callimachean recusatio was twisted by the Augustan poets. Gordon Williams analyses their practice thus: ‘They sadly regret that their poor talents will not rise to great subjects – and the subjects to which they will not rise are not the old mythological tales but the great affairs of contemporary Roman history and, in particular, the deeds of Augustus. It is clear, however, that they are using this form of poem to enumerate and praise the great deeds of Augustus, under the guise of proposing their own inability.’ No-one hesitates to agree that Valerius was well versed in the Augustan poets. It is dangerous, therefore, to assume without question that he was deceived by their insincerity. There is in fact good reason to examine the alternative possibility, namely that Valerius understood well the practice of his literary predecessors, that he dared to tread in their footsteps and that he succeeded in the supreme duty of a poet, that is to say, the business of ensuring that ars celavit artem.

‘Epaphroditus’ (= ‘lovely’, ‘charming’) is perhaps the commonest of Roman slave names apart from ‘Felix’, which it sometimes renders as a Greek equivalent. It is also used very extensively under the early empire by those with tria nomina, whether freedmen or freeborn, whether descendants of freedmen or not, whether citizens or Junian Latins. It is also found among decurions and even equestrians, but not senators. It thus has a non-elite resonance in the western half of the empire, but, like almost all personal cognomina, not exclusively so.

Histories 1.40 is designed to set the scene for Galba's assassination. It begins by bringing the emperor into the crowded Forum, but then it switches to Otho and his followers, dwelling on the horror, not of the act they plan (that is reserved for chapter 41), but of their readiness to commit it. The text is not problematical, but since the point behind the first two sentences is not entirely clear, this has prompted occasional emendation, repeated discussion, and continuing perplexity. The difficulty arises, in good measure, from the assumption that Tacitus is saying much the same as Plutarch (Galb. 26.4–6). As has been remarked more than once, the two authors no doubt drew their material from the common source, but they have in mind different time-frames and different viewpoints. Nor does this end the matter. A skewed perspective on these sentences has also led one scholar to dissect the chapter in a manner purporting to show that Galba's fate, not the Othonians' willingness to bring it about, is Tacitus' main concern.

1. NA 1.22.11 qui dicit ergo superesse se ei quem defendit, nihil istorum [sc. of the legitimate senses listed by Julius Paulus in §§9–10] uult dicere, sed nescioquid aliud indictum inscitumque dicit.

Adversus Mathematicos (M.) x is the second book dedicated by Sextus to the discussion of the physical doctrines put forward by dogmatic philosophers. An extensive section (M. x 85–120) deals with Diodorus Cronus' arguments concerning movement.

The Passio Typasii survives in only one manuscript and was published for the first time in 1890. It purports to describe the trial and death of a Mauretanian martyr, a military veteran by the name of Typasius, during the Diocletianic persecution. However as recently demonstrated its literary borrowings, from the Breviarium of Eutropius and the Vita Martini of Sulpicius Severus, suggest that it is a mere fiction and that it should be dated after c. A.d. 396. It is the purpose of this note to draw attention to its preservation of an otherwise unattested title, that of the praepositus saltus, and to expand upon the significance of this title for the interpretation of the work. This title only occurs fully in one passage, being elsewhere abbreviated to praepositus, and this passage is of some interest therefore.

The only explicit indication in the text of Ammianus Marcellinus as to the historian's origin comes in the famous epilogue to the Res Gestae, that he had written ‘as once a soldier, and a Greek’ (‘ut miles quondam et Graecus’; 31.16.9), supported by various passages in which he refers to the Greek language as his own. The evidence that, through the length and breadth of the Greek-speaking world, we should look to Syrian Antioch for his place of origin, is provided by the orator of that city, Libanius, in a letter (Ep. 1063) written late in 392 ‘to Marcellinus’. The purpose of this article is to set out explicitly the arguments for the identification of Libanius' correspondent as Ammianus Marcellinus in the light of the recent challenges to the accepted view offered by G. W. Bowersock, C. W. Fornara, and T. D. Barnes. Since the discussion requires that the letter be considered in detail, it is given here, in Foerster's Teubner text followed by a translation of Libanius' often very allusive language

I have devoted a separate study to the question of how far the account in the Alexander Romance of Alexander's meeting with the Naked Philosophers, later known as Brahmans, rests on genuine information about India. My conclusion was that the author of the Romance knew the Alexander historians but did not add any genuine knowledge; and that he incorporated a separate text of Cynic origin, the series of ten questions and answers.