California Studies in Classical Antiquity: Volume 2 [Reprint 2020 ed.] 9780520348172

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California Studies in Classical Antiquity Volume 2

CALIFORNIA STUDIES IN CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY Volume 2

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESS BERKELEY AND LOS ANGELES 1969

CALIFORNIA STUDIES IN CLASSICAL A N T I Q U I T Y

Senior Editors: Truesdell S. Brown, W. Kendrick Pritchett Advisory Board: Darrell A. Amyx, Philip Levine, Thomas G. Rosenmeyer VOLUME a

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 68-26906 University of California Press Berkeley and Los Angeles California University of California Press, Ltd. London, England Printed in Great Britain

Contents 1. 2.

3. 4.

5.

DARRELL A. AMYX Observations on the Warrior Group

1

APOSTOLOS ATHANASSAKIS Elision and Other Problems relating to Short Vowel Hiatus in Hesiod

27

NORMAN AUSTIN Telemachos Polymechanos

45

Polybius' Credibility and the Triple Alliance of230/229B.c.

65

Prometheus Psellistes

85

Daulis at Delphi

107

DANIEL E. GERSHENSON Averting BaoKavia in Theocritus: A Compliment

145

A R T H U R E. GORDON On the Origins of the Latin Alphabet: Modern Views

157

W. RALPH J O H N S O N Tact in the Drusus Ode: Horace, Odes 4.4

171

ROGER A. DE LAIX

EDWIN DOLIN

6. JOSEPH FONTENROSE 7. 8. 9.

vi 10.

11.

12. 13. 14.

15.

Contents BORIMIR JORDAN The Meaning of the Technical Term Hyperesia in Naval Contexts of the Fifth and Fourth Centuries B.C.

183

PHILIP LEVINE Catullus c. 1: A Prayerful Dedication

209

M. GWYN MORGAN The Roman Conquest of the Balearic Isles

217

THOMAS G. ROSENMEYER The Rookie: A Reading of Pindar

1

233

RAPHAEL SEALEY Probouleusis and the Sovereign Assembly

247

CHARLOTTE S. SWEET Six Attic Vases in the San Francisco Bay Area

271

ERRATA For FOL, read Foi

Page 35, line 1. Page 112, n. 14.

For prostates, read prostates

Page 115, n. 18.

For Macar. 2. 3. 9, read Macar. 2.39

Page 148, n. 9.

For Symp., read Symp.

Page 157, n. 3.

For in bibliotheca, read in bibliotheca

Page 160, line 20. Page 215, n. 27.

For the first FH, read FH For rovvofia, read T ovvo/xa

Nemean

1

DARRELL A. AMYX

Observations on the Warrior Group* The Robert H. Lowie Museum of Anthropology has recently acquired a charming Early Corinthian aryballos which invites us to reexamine the work of the artist who decorated it, and to reconsider certain stylistic problems associated with him. The vase is attributable at a glance to the Duel Painter, who was one of the leading artistic forces in Early Corinthian vase-painting. His central style is easy to recognize, but, as is too often the case in Corinthian ware, the work of his followers and imitators is not so easily distinguishable from the products of his own hand, and the precise limits of his canon are hard to determine. Other proposed associations of vases within the Warrior Group, to which this Painter belongs, also present problems which need to be thoroughly and critically examined. But we anticipate. First let us look more closely at this fine specimen of the Duel Painter's handiwork, then turn our attention to those broader questions. The Berkeley aryballos (pi. I) 1 is nearly intact. Only the handle, and a part of the mouthpiece, are missing. The clay ranges from a rather dark to a medium yellow-buff. The glaze is good and firm, and fairly lustrous; added red is used for some features of the decoration. * Many kind friends and colleagues have helped to produce this study. Most particularly I wish to thank, for their help in obtaining photographs and descriptions of vases, and for permission to publish: Professors William Bascom and J. L. Benson, Dr. Herbert Cahn, Dr. Richard Green, and Professors Reinhard Lullies and Saul Weinberg. Others, too many to name, will see and know where they have contributed. For financial support, I am grateful to the Committee on Research, University of California, Berkeley. 1 Berkeley, UCLMA 8-68-6686. Ht. 0.066, diam. 0.062 m. Bought in Philadelphia. Hesperia Art Bulletin 42 (1968), No. 6, illustrated. Provenience not stated.

2

Darrell A. Amyx

On top of the mouthpiece, around a central orifice, are small red and black tongues (usually RBBRBB . . . , but once RBRB . . . ) ; on the face of the lip, there is a row of zigzags, resembling reversed Z's; on the shoulder, red and black tongues in an irregularly changing pattern; on the body two bands, then an animal frieze, then three bands; underneath, a central depression surrounded by three concentric circles, then a ring of radiating black and red tongues in an irregularly changing sequence. In the animal frieze: swan standing to right between seated sphinxes, between panthers. The trailing hind legs of the panthers, both unincised, touch each other at the back of the vase. Filling ornament of incised rosettes, with and without centers, various small deformations of "rosettes"; incised and unincised " p l u s " rosettes; numerous small dots. As will be seen, our vase fits beautifully into the work of the Duel Painter. Among the various groups of Early Corinthian aryballoi distinguished and described by Payne, 2 one which stands out for its conspicuously refined style—at least in the best examples—is the Warrior Group. 3 Within this group, the principal artist is the Duel Painter, whose individual style Payne himself had already recognized; for, in Perachora I (Oxford 1940, published posthumously), page 96 and plate 27:5, he attributes a fragmentary kotyle to the "painter of several aryballoi of the Warrior Group," although unfortunately he does not specify which aryballoi he means. In 1943 I added to this ill-defined nucleus 4 an aryballos in Rhodes (see infra, p. 5, No. 8), but without specific mention of any other aryballoi by this hand. Thus far, the Painter had not been given a name. In 1953, Benson, in his formal lists of attributions to Corinthian vase-painters, 5 cited three attributions to this artist (including the aryballos in Rhodes and the kotyle fragments from Perachora), and listed two more vases as being in the " m a n n e r " of this person, whom he chose to call the "Perachora Painter"—an undesirable choice, for this name had already been assigned to a different Corinthian artist. 6 It seemed to me that all of the five vases listed by 2 Humfry Payne, Necrocorinthia (Oxford 1931); hereafter, "Payne" for text and illustrations, "NC" for serial numbers in catalogue. 3 Payne, 288f, NC 488-527. 4 Amyx, Corinthian Vases in the Hearst Collection at San Simeon, Univ. Calif. Publ. Classical Archaeology 1:9 (1943) (hereafter cited as Cor. Vases) 231, n. 110. 5 J. L. Benson, Die Geschichte der korinthischen Vasen (Basel 1953) (hereafter, "GkV") 34, List 45. « T. J. Dunbabin, JHS 71 (1951) 67. Cf. Brock and Hopper in Perachora II (Oxford 1962) 241; L. Banti in Enciclopedia dell'Arte Antica (hereafter "EAA") VI (1965) 34, "Pittore di Perachora 1°".

Observations on the Warrior Group

3

Benson (including one example "apparently" by the Painter, and the two which were said to be in his manner) were actually the works of one hand, and I began to assemble further pieces around this nucleus. By 1959,1 felt able to state7 that I knew of at least sixteen more aryballoi by his hand, and to attribute in addition a broad-bottomed oinochoe in Patras. In order to eliminate the confusion caused by Benson's choice of a name already preempted, I proposed to call this artist the "Duel Painter," after the subject on several of the vases attributed to him.8 At the stage reached in 1959, the style of the Duel Painter seemed well defined. However, in my attempts to put the entire list into a logical order, I began to feel doubts about some of the vases which had at first appeared to be safe attributions. My "list" began to fall into two parts—a "prime" series of vases which still seemed to be securely attributable to the Duel Painter, and a secondary series of pieces about which doubts had arisen. This stage of the problem had already been reached when I entered into correspondence with Axel Seeberg about a paper on which he was working, which eventually appeared under the title, "The Wellcome Painter and his Companions."9 Therefore, when there appeared in Seeberg's manuscript the attribution of certain aryballoi to the " Ephebes Painter" (on whom see further below) 10 which I had placed in my (unpublished) list of attributions to the Duel Painter, it became obvious that further study of the vases in both lists was needed.11 There are now two possible sources of confusion regarding the identity of the Duel Painter. At the risk of seeming to explain the obvious, it may be well to clarify our position. The confusion with the "Perachora Painter," an earlier artist who was active in the Transitional Period and who specialized in the decoration of kotylai, has been mentioned above. But within the Warrior Group of aryballoi, which is 7 Amyx, Jahrbuch des romisch-germanischen Zentralmuseums Mainz (hereafter, "Jb. Mainz") 6 (1959) 107, nn. 15-16. 8 The name "Duel Painter" has meanwhile been adopted by Benson, Gnomon 36 (1964) 405. 9 Axel Seeberg, ActaA 35 (1964) 29-50; see especially 34-36, and n. 18. 10 Benson's "Ephebenmaler," GkV35, List 47; cf. Seeberg, he. cit. 11 This cautionary statement must be applied also to two other places in which there is discussion of the Duel Painter's oeuvre: L. Banti in EAA IV (1965) 32 and fig. 31, "Pittore di Perachora, 2 ° " ; and F. Villard, CVA Louvre 15, pi. 82:4/6/7 and p. 66. In both of these passages, unpublished attributions of mine are cited, among which are some of the very pieces which I now find it necessary to reconsider, as indeed I reported in my review of Villard, AJA 70 (1966) 297. Mea culpa!

4

Darrell A. Amyx

the center of the attributions to the Duel Painter, there is now stylistic confusion which must be eliminated. The trouble is that this artist has not yet been blessed with a well-defined canon of his works and style, and I now find it necessary to reject certain of the vases which I had formerly thought were his; so that the use of any of these pieces as a basis for further attributions can only lead to trouble. The fault is mine, and it is regrettable, but now is the time to try to make amends. To define a starting point for our investigation, let us stipulate that by the Duel Painter we mean the artist intended by Payne in his attribution of the kotyle fragments Perachora I, plate 27:5 to "the painter of several aryballoi of the Warrior Group." Beginning with these fragments, I still believe it is safe to say that our nucleus must include all five of the vases cited by Benson in his list of attributions to, and ascriptions to the "manner" of, his "Perachoramaler," 12 At least, I have convinced myself that all these pieces are by one hand. Starting from these examples, I believe after lengthy study that the following list represents a "safe" canon of the Painter's style, in relation to which all further attributions must be stylistically justified. LIST A : THE DUEL PAINTER

Round. Aryballoi 1. New York, Metropolitan Museum 06.1021.11 (NC 488). Richter, Handbook of the Classical Collection (1930) 55, fig. 31, left; Canessa Coll. 8, fig. 18; T. von Scheffer, Die Kultur der Griechen (1935), pi. 103, left; Payne, pi. 21:7. GkV 34, List 45, No. 2a ( " M a n n e r " of the Painter). Swan between sphinxes, panther to left, swan to left, with head turned. The panther, which appears on many of the Painter's works, is especially indicative of his style. 2. Berkeley, UCLMA 8-68-6686. Plate 1. Handle and part of mouth missing. Swan between sphinxes, between panthers. Hesperia Art Bulletin (Philadelphia) 42 (1968), No. 6 (illustrated). A peculiar feature of this example is the presence, under the frieze, of a ring of tongues above concentric bands, instead of the usual whirligig (but cf. Payne 288f, NC 520-527). (Also attr. Benson). 12 GkV 34, List 45.

Observations on the Warrior Group

5

3. Rome, Villa Giulia, unnumbered (Castellani Coll.). Swan to right, between sphinxes, between panthers. 4. Columbia, Univ. of Missouri 61.32. Plate 2:1-2. Most of mouth missing. Swan to right, between sphinxes, between panthers. (Benson). 5. Amsterdam, Allard Pierson Museum 1273 (ex Hague, Scheurleer 693) (NC 493). CVA 1, pi. 5:5-6; Catalogus pi. 32, No. 339. GkV 34, List 45, No. la ("Manner" of the Painter). Siren to right, with spread wings, between sphinxes, swan, panther to left. 6. Paris, Louvre E 522. Phot. Giraudon 27266 (in group); detail, Morin-Jean, Dessin des Anitnaux 57, fig. 53; CVA 13, pi. 82:4/6/7. Boar to left between panthers, swan to right. No incision in swan (cf. No. 9, infra). 7. Corinth CP 2340. Fragment, from back of body. Owl, panther (?) to right. 8. Rhodes 13008. Plate 2:3-4. Clara Rhodos 4, 312, fig. 346 (in group) and 316, fig. 350, top right; CVA Rodi 2, pi. 6:2. GkV 34, List 45, No. 2. Duel flanked by panthers, swan to right. 9. Bellinzona, Private Coll. Duel flanked by panthers, swan to right. No incision in swan (cf. No. 6, supra). 10. Tarquinia RC 2922 (NC 502). O. Montelius, La civilisation primitive en Italie (Stockholm 1895-1910), pi. 298:8. GkV 34, List 45, No. 3 ("apparently" by the Painter). Duel flanked by panthers, swan. (Benson) 11. Cerveteri, Storehouse, from Autostrada T 87. Duel flanked by panthers, swan. Kotyle 12. Athens, from Perachora. Payne, Perachore I, 96 and pi. 27:5. GkV, List 45, No. 1. Fragments. Parts of two friezes, with panther, sphinx, boar, bits of other animals. It is not wholly clear to me that all of these fragments belong to one vase, but at least they are by one hand. (Payne) Broad-Bottomed Oinochoe 13. Patras. Plate 3. Narrow-necked type, with plastic ring around neck. Two animal friezes, with three-row dicing between them, and, below, a frieze of reversed Z's;

6

Darrell A. Amyx at base, rays. Swans, sphinxes, panthers, stags. (Cf. Jb. Mainz 6 [1959] 107, nn. 15-16.)

There are many consistent stylistic bonds which unite these thirteen vases as works of one artist, the Duel Painter. Of some of my earlier attributions, I am much less confident; and there are still others which surely must be withdrawn. According to my field notes, which I am at present unable to control, the following three round aryballoi should also be by the Duel Painter: 1. Paris, Louvre E 580 (NC 492). Detail, Payne 74, fig. 19 bis. Swan between sphinxes, panther to left, frontal horseman. 2. Marseille, Musée Borely 7055. Duel flanked by panthers; at back, fancy incised ornament. Oddly, the shields are switched, giving an "inside-out" arrangement: that of the warrior at left has its blazon displayed. 3. Oxford G 127.3, from Naukratis (NC 503, B). Fragment: part of a duel. Unpublished (false reference in Banti, EAA IV [1965] 32). Professor Benson has convinced me (in a letter) that I should withdraw my earlier attribution of a fragmentary aryballos in Mykonos, Dugas, Délos XVII, pl. 55:15 (mentioned by Banti, loc. cit.). In spite of some similarities to the style of the Duel Painter, the incised lines marking off the wing-divisions in the swan's body do not quite agree with those on vases that I can confidently attribute, and there are other details which also argue for a different, though closely related, hand. On the subject of these earlier attributions, we must now revert to a consideration of the alleged "sixteen more" aryballoi by the Duel Painter besides the four in Benson's list. 13 Several of them are accounted for, in one way or another, among the vases discussed above. Of the remainder, the largest and most important lot consists of aryballoi on which are mostly represented duels, horsemen, and riderless horses in varying combinations, but not (with one exception) the sphinxes or panthers commonly seen in the prime list of attributions 13 Cf. Jb. Mainz 6 (1959) 107, n. 16.

Observations on the Warrior Group

7

given above. Since the question of authorship by a specific Painter is still open, we must for the time being give this subgroup a noncommittal heading: LIST B : THE EQUINE CONSTELLATION

Round

Arjballoi 1. London, B.M. 1922. 10-17.1 (NC 495). Plate 4 : 1 . Detail, Payne, 99, fig. 31; L. Banti in EAA V I (1965) 32, fig. 31 (sic). Duel flanked by (riderless) horses. Once attributed by me to the Duel Painter. A particularly crucial piece, since of all the examples in this list it stands closest to those in List A. Furthermore, a picture of it is used to illustrate the Duel Painter's style in Professor Banti's article; so, if it is not his work, we must emphatically erase this erroneous attribution, for the reader of the Enciclopedia article will naturally tend to accept it as a point of departure for further attributions. 2. Berlin F 1056 (NC 497). Plate 4:2-7. Foto Marburg LA 1082/24-25. GkV 35, List 47, No. 4a. Duel flanked by horseman and riderless horse; flying bird. Once attributed by me to the Duel Painter. 3. Princeton, Univ. 30.461. Plate 5 : 1 . Frances F. Jones and R. Goldberg, Ancient Art in the Art Museum (Princeton 1960), 28; Benson, AJA 68 (1964) 169 and n. 27. Duel flanked by rider(s?), swooping bird. 4. Paris, Louvre E 605 (not "506," as in Payne) (NC 496). Detail, Payne 72, fig. 18, B. Duel flanked by riders (Payne's drawing shows only a horse, without its rider). Once attributed by me to the Duel Painter. 5. Leipzig T 2171 (NC 486A, with older lit.; add F. Studniczka, Festschr. Z- 500jahrigen Jubiläum der Univ. Leipzig IV: 1 [Leipzig 1909] pi. V : 2 and p. 33). Payne, pi. 2 1 : 1 1 ; CVA 1, pi. 28:3-6. GkV35, List 47, No. 3. Duel flanked by riderless horses. 6. Würzburg 106 (NC 496B). Payne, PI. 2 1 : 6 ; E. Langlotz, Gr. Vasen in Würzburg, pi. 12. Duel flanked by seated sphinxes; at back, swan. 7. Paris, Louvre E 532 (NC 513). Mouth and handle missing. Three horses to right; swan.

8

Darrell A. Amyx

8. Paris, Louvre E 580 bis. Replica of Louvre E 532 (cf. last). My field notes state that the style of the horses is identical with that of those on Louvre E 605 (No. 4, supra). 9. Once Basel, Market (1961). Plate 5:3-4. Duel; at back, panther to left. The foregoing list accounts for practically all of the vases which, besides those retained in the "prime list" (A) above, I had once regarded as works of the Duel Painter (cf. Banti, Villard, locc. citt.), but which I have now set apart for reconsideration. Since in most of these examples we lack the familiar panthers and sphinxes for comparison, we must rely on other features, primarily the duels, for comparative study. Our best place to begin is with the London aryballos (No. 1, pi. 4:1). which should be compared first of all with the aryballos in Rhodes (pi. 2:3-4), No. 8 in our "prime list" (supra, p. 5). The general effect is very similar, and at one time I felt convinced that both vases were by one hand. The likeness is indeed very easy to see, and if it were possible to find a bridge between the "prime list" and this second list, the London aryballos would provide the most promising points of contact. However, the representation of duelling combatants is a common theme on Early Corinthian aryballoi, and many of its main features are stereotyped. When we begin to look for differences, we quickly see that they are present. Not all of them may be critically important for the distinction of hands, but when taken all together they become formidable obstacles to an attribution. For instance: (1) In the filling ornament, which is on the whole very similar, the vase in London displays rosettes with incised double centers which are heavier and larger, and their corollas are divided into a greater number of "petals," than is generally the case on the aryballos in Rhodes. Note also the following elements, on the London aryballos: (2) The shields overlap slightly, instead of merely touching. (3) In the interior view of the shield at left, the hoplite's arm is sharply bent, incision is used to indicate the fingers of his hand, the grip is represented by a pair of incised lines, the "tassels" indicative of ties are made to hang vertically in triplets instead of having the outer two lines bowed inward at the tips. (4) In the shield blazon at right, there is a pair of incised lines dividing the wing-band from the wing feathers. (5) The warrior at right is nude. (6) Both warriors bend forward sharply from the waist. (7) Both warriors seem stockier and

Observations on the Warrior Group

9

heavier than those on the Rhodes aryballos. (8) In the raised right hand of each figure, there is incised detail. (9) In the pudenda of the warrior at left, the incised detail does not form a complete separation between the scrotum and the penis. (10) The helmet casque of the warrior at left has a double incised contour. These may be thought small differences, but some of them involve exactly the sorts of renderings—habitual responses to the requirements of stock formulae—which most tellingly betray differences of hand. Cumulatively, they compel us even at this stage to doubt whether he who decorated the London aryballos could possibly have been the Duel Painter. When we bring into comparison the other vases in the "Equine Constellation," our doubts can only be heightened. Look next at the aryballos Berlin F 1056 (pi. 4 : 2 - 4 ) , the second example on our list. On it there seem to be carried a step farther many of the tendencies observed on the London aryballos. The filling ornament is thicker and coarser and more heavily incised, with fewer small dots, a larger number of "distorted rosette" fillers, and still larger rosettes with incised double centers. The whole effect is more crowded, and the heads of the hoplites push still farther above the upper border of the frieze. And there are still many details of rendering which agree closely with those of the London aryballos, in exactly those features which distinguish the style of this latter vase from that of the aryballos in Rhodes. Observe, for example, the overlapping of the shields; in the interior view of the shield at left, the treatment of the "tassels," the double line of the shield-grip, the indication of the fingers, the bent arm of the warrior; in the blazon of the shield at right, the pair of incised lines separating the wing-band from the wing-feathers of the bird; the nudity of both warriors, and their bent-over pose; the way in which the genitals are represented; the incisions in hands and elbows of raised right arms; and the generally stocky form of both figures. Furthermore, when the horses of both vases are compared, so many more likenesses spring to the eye that it seems fairly obvious that these two vases are by one hand. But on the Berlin aryballos the renderings have moved a step farther away from those on the Duel Painter's aryballos in Rhodes, and the likelihood that these two vases could be by one hand seems still more remote. T o continue our investigation, it seems best temporarily to skip over the next few entries in List B, and to direct our attention next to No. 9, an aryballos formerly in the Swiss market, which I am allowed

10

Darrell A. Amyx

to illustrate through the kindness of Dr. Herbert Cahn (pi. 5:3-4). The duelling warriors on this vase are close counterparts of those on the aryballoi in London and Berlin. The rendering of these figures agrees with that of theirs, and especially in those very particulars in which they were seen to differ from the treatment of the warriors on the aryballos in Rhodes. To me, it seems very likely that the three aryballoi—London, Berlin, and the Swiss market—are products of one hand. And if we accept this conclusion, the last of these three vases makes it quite obvious that this hand cannot be that of the Duel Painter, for the panther on it (pi. 5:4) is in many telling particulars different from the Duel Painter's highly characteristic animals. The aryballos in Princeton (pi. 5:1), No. 3 in our List B, is a neatly decorated vase. In the character of its filling ornament (still not very thickly packed, still a good many round dots, few "distorted" fillers), it seems to stand closer to the London than to the Berlin aryballos; stylistically, it is very close to both. One could almost believe that it is by the same hand as those vases; but without more detailed study of its warriors (not fully visible in the photographs available to me), I hesitate to give it outright to that artist. The vase in Leipzig (No. 5, supra), on the other hand, seems to go even farther than any of those thus far examined in the thickly crowded field, the extensive overlapping of shields, and a general coarseness of line. The warriors look very similar to those on the vase formerly in the Basel market; however, even though it displays a fairly faithful replication of the type of scene, there are differences of detail and in fact of spirit, which reveal a difference of style. The most that can be said for it is that it is closely related to those vases. The warriors on the aryballos in Wiirzburg (No. 6, supra), exemplify the familiar type of scene, but with a different complex of anatomical renderings. This vase must be rather sharply separated from the others in this list. Of the Louvre vases, Nos. 4, 7, and 8 of our "equine" list, I dare not say more until I have had a chance to study them again. At one time all three seemed surely by one hand, and, on the strength of the likeness of their horses to those on the aryballoi in London and Berlin, I had confidently given them to the Duel Painter. Now it seems unlikely that they could belong to that Painter, but they still could be by the painter of the London and Berlin aryballoi. The answer to this question must be postponed.

Observations on the Warrior Group

11

To summarize : in our list of nine vases, I think it probable that Nos. 1, 2, and 9 are by one artist, a close companion of the Duel Painter. Nos. 3 and 5 are close to that "companion" artist, but not quite his own. No. 6 is distinctly different in style. The Louvre vases, Nos. 4, 6, and 8, are set aside for future study. Until our knowledge of styles in this area is better crystallized, I suggest that we defer naming the principal artist of this series in order to avoid a prejudicial position. Some of these pieces will reappear in a different context (see infra, p. 13), in a situation which even more strongly urges caution in our attempts to attribute aryballoi of the Warrior Group to individual painters. The Warrior Group, as defined by the examples listed in Necrocorinthia (i.e., NC 488-527), is not a tightly knit stylistic group, but rather a composite of different styles, brought together in part because of a similarity of type, as shown especially by syntax and subsidiary decoration. It is indicative of these differences, perhaps, that—except for his later indirect reference to "the Painter of several aryballoi of the Warrior G r o u p " (see supra, p. 2)—Payne attributed no two of these vases to any one hand. Nevertheless, a large sector of this Group was dominated by the Duel Painter. Besides the pieces which we can confidently attribute to his hand, there are quite a few others (including some, like those in our List B supra, for which an attribution to the Duel Painter has been proposed by one scholar or another) which are evidently, in varying degrees of proximity, " i n his manner." Under such a heading might properly be placed the next three examples. LIST C : OTHER NEAR MISSES

In a recent article, entitled " L e 'Maître des Duels' Corinthien," 1 4 Mme S. Boriskovskaya attributes the following vases to the Painter: Aryballoi 1. Budapest, Museum of Fine Arts No. 50.212. Bull. Musée Hongrois des Beaux-Arts, No. 27 (Budapest 1965) 8f, figs. 3-6. Swan between sphinxes, panther to left. 2. Leningrad, Hermitage, No. B 4131. Bull. Musée Hongrois 14 S. Boriskovskaya, Bull, du Musée Hongrois des Beaux-Arts, No. 27 (Budapest 1965) 7-12, figs. 3-9.

12

Darrell A. Amyx des Beaux-Arts, No. 27 (Budapest 1965) lOf, figs. 7-9. Duel flanked by panthers.

Phiale 3. Athens, from Perachora. Fragment. Perachora II, 265f and pi. 108, No. 2560. Head of panther, wing of sphinx( ?). In all three of these cases the desire for an attribution is understandable, for the connection is very close; but in each example there are differences which make it impossible to accept the attribution. On the aryballos in Budapest we find the same creatures, and in the same arrangement, that we find on some of the Duel Painter's vases. The aryballos belongs to the Warrior Group, as many of its features proclaim, and it strongly reflects the style of the Duel Painter. But the style of the panther says that it is not his own work; for, although certain elements are derived from that Painter, others are so different that one cannot connect them with him: the double arcs on the back, forward of the tail; the absence of a "belly-stripe" incision; the several rows (instead ofjust two) of "flecking" on the neck, differently rendered from the corresponding part as done by the Duel Painter; the treatment of the knee joints of the hind legs; and the generally heavier, more thickset bodily proportions. The main grouping of swan between sphinxes seems closer to the work of the Duel Painter but, after careful study, in even these parts the ultimate effect is that of a reasonably faithful copy, and not the work of the same artist. For all these reasons, I believe that we must detach this vase from the Duel Painter's own products. The aryballos in Leningrad, too, is betrayed by its panthers, which, for reasons which will become obvious if they are closely compared with those on vases of our List A, cannot be by the Duel Painter. Besides, the duellists differ from those on, e.g., the aryballos in Rhodes by the Duel Painter, in many of the same respects which distinguish the warriors on the vases of the "Equine Constellation" (our List B) from his work. In fact, there is so marked a resemblance that one might almost as well have added this vase to that list. We must still consider whether the two aryballoi are by one hand, and what their relationship may be to other vases of the Warrior Group. Since on both vases the style is derivative and to some degree eclectic (observe the differences between the two panthers on one vase, the Leningrad aryballos), I would not find it hard to believe

Observations on the Warrior Group

13

that the two vases could be by one hand, in spite of some differences of detail; but I could not feel certain. Similarly, the warriors of the Leningrad aryballos, as was just indicated, are closely comparable to those of the central vases in the "Equine Constellation," and its panther has some features in common with those of the panther on the aryballos once in the Basel Market (pi. 5:3-4). However, all this material needs to be studied further, and my main purpose here is to establish differentiae which will distinguish the work of the Duel Painter from that of his followers. The crux of the problem is that, as soon as we move away from the central nucleus of vases that are clearly attributable to the Duel Painter, we find that there is a noticeable lack of consistency, or purity of style, and that even the good derivative vases often do not show a clearly marked style of their own. Of the less good pieces, some of which seem admissible into the Group only by virtue of their shape and the subject matter of their decoration, the most that can be said is that some of them show in some measure the influence of the Duel Painter. (The situation is analogous to that of the countless Early Corinthian alabastra which reflect in varying degrees the influence of the Painter of Palermo 489.) 15 There is a clear reflection of this difficulty in the proposal of Mme Boriskovskaya to regard the aryballoi in Leipzig and Wiirzburg (Nos. 5 and 6 of our "Equine Constellation," or List B, denied to the leading hand of that list, supra, page 10) as "perhaps late works" of the Duel Painter. If there were hope of finding works of the Duel Painter among the vases in our List B, one would have expected to find convincing links between the two lists above all in the London aryballos, but even in this case, as we have seen, the differences are a formidable deterrent to an attribution. And, if my own analysis of their style is correct, the aryballoi in Leipzig and Wiirzburg are still farther removed from the Duel Painter than are the three central aryballoi of the" Equine Constellation." All of these vases are manifestly later than the accepted works of the Duel Painter, but they show some diversity of styles, no one of which can be convincingly attached to the Duel Painter's own works. Mme Boriskovskaya proposes,16 as a further attribution to 15 Payne, 275, on N C 76-83; Benson, GkV 27f, List 29; Amyx, AM 75-76 (1960-1961) 12, n. 2; L. Banti in EAA V (1963) 873, "Pittore di Palermo 489." 16 Boriskovskaya, 9, n. 8.

14

Darrell A. Amyx

the Duel Painter, the phiale fragment listed above. 17 The likeness is close, but there are differences in the rendering of certain features, such as the lines in the panther's brow (a two-humped undulation, not a "breve") and ears (looped in from bottom right, run up center and then hooked to left) which are not paralleled in any of the works in our "prime list." "Near but not by the Duel Painter" must be our verdict. Some further pieces, related to the style of the Duel Painter, must be discussed because of what has been said about them in the literature. F. G. Lo Porto has assigned certain aryballoi in Taranto to the Warrior Group, and he has brought some of these into association with the Duel Painter. 18 There is, however, apparently no instance in which he proposes a direct attribution to that Painter. Mme Boriskovskaya19 states that Lo Porto has attributed the kernos Taranto 52,800 to the Duel Painter, but he says only that it "recalls" (ricorda) that Painter. 20 Nor do I find in his text any direct attribution of the two aryballoi which, according to Mme Boriskovskaya,21 he has "perhaps correctly" given to the Duel Painter. One of these, Taranto 52,764, is said by Lo Porto 22 to "recall" the style of the Duel Painter's kotyle fragments in Perachora; whereas the other, Taranto 20,606, is said 23 only to be "similar" to several aryballoi, among which there is only one (Rhodes 13008) that we have accepted into our "prime list" of attributions to the Duel Painter. In my opinion, Lo Porto's nonattributory language is correct. Aryballos No. 52,764 (pi. 5:2), on which is represented a swan between panthers, has certain elements which are derived from the Duel Painter, but there are very telling stylistic differences which distinguish it from his work. The other vase, No. 20,606, is decorated with a duel, amid filling ornament (the back left plain); it is very heavily repainted; it is not by the Duel Painter. Lo Porto, in discussing this vase, attributes it to the same hand as several others from the same grave (Vaccarella, 25 March 1924): Nos. 17

Brock, in Perachora II (supra, n. 6), cautiously compares this work with the Duel Painter's aryballos in Rhodes, but does not propose an attribution. 18 F. G. Lo Porto, Ceramica arcaica delta Necropoli di Toronto, ASAtene N.S. 2122 (1959-1960) 7-230. 19 Boriskovskaya (supra, n. 14) 9, n. 8. 2» Lo Porto, 69. 21 Boriskovskaya, 12, n. 19. 22 Lo Porto, 72f, fig. 54,a. 23 Lo Porto, 81, fig. 61,c.

Observations on the Warrior Group

15

20604,20605,20631, and 20620, of which only No. 20604 is published.24 This last-named piece has close affinities with the Duel Painter, and—as Lo Porto remarks—with the vases attributed by Benson to his "Ephebes Painter" (on whom more later), but no attribution is warranted; furthermore, it must be stated that this vase, too, is repainted. There are several other places in Lo Porto's text at which he assigns various aryballoi to the Warrior Group, or compares then explicitly with the work of the Duel Painter.25 In none of these cases is a direct attribution proposed, nor does an attribution seem indicated. One piece, Taranto 20,533,26 is of special interest because Lo Porto relates it to some other vases of the Warrior Group, to be discussed in a new context below (see pp. 23f), which draw us away from the Duel Painter and into the orbit of the Royal Library Painter, an artist whose connection with the Warrior Group has not hitherto been observed. But before we can turn to this matter we must first examine certain other stylistic groupings which have been proposed within the Warrior Group. As we have noted, apart from his later allusion to the Duel Painter, Payne did not attribute any of the aryballoi of the Warrior Group to individual artists, although he may well have had some such attributions in mind. Benson, in addition to his list for the " Perachoramaler,"27 i.e., the Duel Painter, proposed two other groupings containing aryballoi of the Warrior Group : his "Ephebenmaler," or "Ephebes Painter,"28 and his "Gruppe der heraldischen Reiter," or "Heraldic Riders Group."29 It is these last two lists which must now concern us. Professor Benson has indicated, in recent correspondence, that he is much less confident of these original attributions to the "Ephebes Painter" than he was in 1953, but meanwhile there have been further developments which oblige us to reexamine this whole question. Benson's attributions (1953) to the Ephebes Painter consist of the aryballoi Brussels R 192 (NG 509) and Amsterdam ex Scheurleer 720 (NC 510), and "perhaps" Leipzig T 2171 (NG 496A). Under "Manner" of the Painter, he lists the aryballoi Garthage, Musée Lavigerie (NC 506); Louvre S 620; once Goluchow, Czartoryski 7; 24 Lo Porto, 80f, fig. 61,a. 25 For example, No. 20591 (p. 71, fig. 53) ; No. 20578 (p. 79, fig. 60,a) ; and No. 20533 (pp. 102f, figs. 79,a-80). 26 Lo Porto, 102f, figs. 79,a-80. 27 GkV 34, List 45. 28 GkV 35, List 47. 29 GkV 35, List 48.

16

Darrell A. Amyx

and Berlin F 1056 (NC 497). Two of these vases (Nc 496A and NC 497) have already been mentioned above, as Nos. 5 and 2 in our "Equine Constellation" list. Admitting that there are problems, Axel Seeberg 30 nevertheless deals with the "Ephebes Painter" as follows: "Professor Amyx warns me that the Ephebes Painter is proving a difficult concept which may include aspects of more than one artist. The following, meanwhile, seem to me closely connected and distinguishable from other groups: the vases listed in GkV, I.e. (including that at Leipzig), and the Berlin and Carthage aryballoi listed as in the artist's manner; Louvre E 532 and E 580.1 . . .; Bonn 672, 31 possibly also the hydriske Perachora II, No. 2220, pi. 71? This list, which to me at present represents the ' Ephebes Painter,' should of course be treated with every reserve, but the common characteristics seem to reflect one dominant personality." Unfortunately, I do not feel at all confident that Seeberg's last statement is valid, in spite of the close links which join these vases together. And Benson's present attitude toward his own earlier attributions is equally skeptical: in his unpublished notes, which he has very kindly allowed me to quote, Benson concludes: " I t is plain that no two of all those suggested are indisputedly by one hand, although the two corepieces of the GAFlist are undoubtedly closest—in any case sufficiently closely to form the core of a workshop to which the Princeton aryballos [N.B.: added later by Benson; No. 3 of our "Equine Constellation," supra, p. 7] can also be admitted and no doubt the Leipzig aryballos. The Byrsa [N.B.: GkV, List 47, No. l a ; NC 506] and Patras [N.B.: not Warrior Group. D. A. A.] pieces are so much on the fringes, also the Paris piece listed as Manner, that they are probably best excluded." Benson's present view is undoubtedly correct, that the "Ephebes Painter" is not a stylistic unity in which one can place much faith. For that reason, I cannot follow Seeberg's concept of an " Ephebes Painter" whose work could embrace all of the vases claimed for him by Seeberg. It is possible, I think to form a new cluster grouped around Berlin F 1056 (NC 497; GkV, List 47, No. 4a) which I have attributed (supra, p. 9) to the same hand as London 1922.17.1 (NC 495), placing the Princeton and Leipzig vases near that hand. It seems possible, on the basis of my old field notes, that the three Louvre aryballoi E 605, E 532, and E 580.1 in my List B may belong to the chief artist of that list, but it seems unlikely that this artist painted any of the three vases 30 Seeberg (supra, n. 9) 34/36, n. 18. 31 Seeberg, 36, figs. 12-13; NC 514.

Observations on the Warrior Group

17

32

once attributed by Benson to his "Ephebes Painter." Seeberg would give to this "Painter" also the aryballos Bonn 672, 33 which at one time I was inclined to ascribe to the Duel Painter. It still looks very close to certain works by that Painter, but I have found no way to anchor it firmly within his canon. It is also obviously close to some of the vases in my List B (e.g., to the London aryballos, No. 1), a fact which underlines the close interrelationship among all these vases and the connections of all with the Duel Painter. 34 Last of Seeberg's attributions to the "Ephebes Painter" (suggested only as a possibility) is the hydriske Perachora II, No. 2220, plate 71. The style of this work does show a resemblance to the Warrior Group, perhaps especially to the Duel Painter, but again I can find in its decoration no warrant for an attribution to any particular hand. Happily, there is room for closer agreement with Seeberg in his treatment of Benson's "Heraldic Riders Group." Benson's list 35 consists of three aryballoi: (1) London A 1451 (NC 504); (2) Syracuse, from Gela (NC 508); and (3) Tarquinia RC 3313 ("Corneto 2,000"; N C 501)—for which, incidentally, Benson did not claim authorship by one hand. Seeberg 36 would give "at least" the first two of these to one hand, to which he would also attribute the aryballos Hesperia Art Bulletin 15 (Philadelphia 1961), No. 87. In this case I believe Seeberg is right, and that the three vases cited by him are all the work of one artist. The vase in Tarquinia, though related, is painted in a somewhat different style. An aryballos in Delos (NC 498), mentioned in this context by Seeberg, has a base pattern similar to that on two of the others, and is stylistically related to them. Seeberg goes on to state that the Heraldic Riders 32 GkV 35, List 47. 33 See supra, n. 31. 34 These close interrelationships justify in a way the remark of Lo Porto (supra, n. 18) 81, that the "Ephebes Painter" belongs to the circle of the Duel Painter, if we understand it to mean that the vases once attributed to the " Ephebes Painter" belong within the orbit of the Duel Painter's influence—:pace Mme Boriskovskaya (supra, n. 14) 12, n. 19, 35 GkV 35, List 48. 36 Seeberg (supra, n. 9) 36, and n. 19. For the vase in Delos there cited, read "No. 308"; and, in the discussion of the base-patterns, for "GkV, loc. cit., No. 1 (Gela)" read " GkV loc. cit. No. 2 (Gela)". The London vase, NC 504, is also published in J. M. Cook Greek Painted Pottery (London 1960), pi. 10.B. This vase, old A 1451, is newly numbered 1958.1-14.1, a possible source of confusion. More serious is the discrepancy noted by Seeberg between the illustration cited above (which agrees completely with Payne, pi. 21:10, i.e., it is the same vase) and Payne's drawing, 72 fig. 18 D, which shows a horse with near hind leg advanced. Unless it is very badly misdrawn, this figure cannot have been taken from the same vase.

18

Darrell A. Amyx

Painter "may well turn out to be" the same as one of his artists who specialized in padded dancer scenes, the Wilanow Painter.37 Seeberg's attributions to the latter artist consist of four alabastra, each with two rows of decoration: (1) Warsaw 147184; (2) Warsaw 147185; (3) Eton College; and (4) Madrid 32647. A good sampling of the style is given in Seeberg's illustrations.38 The character of the filling ornament in these two lists forms a very suggestive connecting link, and Seeberg's hypothesis of a single hand could well be right. Seeberg is correct, too, I believe, in his attribution of two of Payne's Warrior Group aryballoi to another specialist in padded dancers, the Wellcome Painter.39 The two vases in question, London, B.M. 91.6-24.37 (NC 512) and Munich 1841 (S.-H. 307; NC 524), are quite convincing attributions to that artist. (Add to these the aryballos fragment Corinth IP 3419, from the Isthmian Sanctuary of Poseidon: padded dancer between riders ?) Seeberg characterizes this artist, in the context of the Warrior Group, as an "odd man out." Certainly his style diverges sharply from the prevailing norm as defined by the Duel Painter and the works closest to him. However, we must bear in mind that there is considerable stylistic range within the Warrior Group. In the foregoing analyses of various sub-groupings within the Warrior Group, we have observed that a commanding central position in this Group belongs to the Duel Painter. The influence of this Painter is reflected, I think, on alabastra as well as aryballoi. As witness to this fact, I should like now to place in evidence the work of an artist who specializes in the decoration of alabastra, but who seems to have been strongly influenced by the Duel Painter. LIST D : THE PAINTER OF GANDIA 7789 4 O

Alabastra

1. Candia (Iraklion) 7789. Plate 6:1. Fragmentary. Seated panther to left. 2. Bonn 32A. Swan between panthers. 37 Seeberg, 36-38, and figs. 14-18. 38 See supra, n. 37. 39 Seeberg, 33, Nos. 2 and 3. In the same list, Seeberg's No. 5 (illustrated, fig. 7) is now in New York (Norbert Schimmel Collection): see The Beauty of Ancient Art, Fogg Art Museum, Norbert Schimmel Coll. (Mainz 1964), No. 21, with illustrations. This Painter is mentioned incidentally by L. Banti in EAA VI (1965) 32, under "Pittore di Perackora, 2°."

Observations on the Warrior Group

19

3. (NC 311.) Delos 413 (B. 6487). Dugas, Délos X, pi. 29. Plate 6:2-4. Panther-bird (wings folded) between griffins. 4. Once Swiss Market (1962). Swan between panthers. 5. Syracuse N.M. 6012, from Fusco Necropolis. Swan between panthers. Unusually large. 6. Cerveteri, Storehouse, from Grave 189. Flying bird between panthers. 7. Boston M.F.A. 19.304. Fairbanks, pi. 44, No. 453. Flying bird to left, between panthers. 8. Gela VG 22-2. Panther seated, to right. 9. Corinth CP 2321. Very fragmentary. Feet of quadruped (panther?), feet of bird standing upon feline's paws, compare with these a different sort of vase: Round Aryballos Syracuse, from Gela. (NC 571) MonAnt 17, 115, fig. 83. Seated panther to right. The features which associate these pieces particularly with the Duel Painter are the details in the heads and necks of panthers, which at times bear a startlingly close resemblance to his own work. Upon closer study, however, important differences come to light which show that the hand is different. There can be no doubt, nevertheless, of the Duel Painter's influence upon this artist. There is another small lot of Warrior Group aryballoi of truly fine quality, which must be set distinctly apart from the Duel Painter. In order further to investigate the character of this sector of the Group, it is necessary now to examine the style of that Painter's distinguished contemporary, the Royal Library Painter. 41 This artist, who stands forth as one of the most elegant of Early Corinthian vase-painters, has gained several new attributions since he was first introduced, so a new list of his works is in order: LIST E : THE ROYAL LIBRARY PAINTER

Alabastron 1.'Taranto 4837 (NC 383A). ASAtene NS 21-22 (19591960) 108, fig. 84, a - b ; cf. Seeberg, ActaA 35 (1964) 40, n. 28. Winged Artemis holding swans. (Seeberg) 41 Amyx, Jb. Mainz 6 (1959) 101-109; Antike Kunst 5 (1962) 5f. Cf. L. Banti, "Pittore della Reale Biblioteca di Bruxelles," in EAA VI (1965) 642f and fig. 745.

20

Darreil A. Amyx

Kotylai-Pyxides 2. Athens, N.M., from Perachora. Perachora II, 269 and pl. 95, No. 2584. Fragments (a.f.; below, bird-frieze; dotcluster rosettes: Transitional). J. K. Brock, loc. cit., attributes to the same hand as No. 7, below; and cf. Benson, Gnomon 36 (1964) 405. 3. [1] Aegina. Kriaker, No. 509, p. 81 and pi. 38. Fragment of lid. 4. [2] Corinth C-31-03. Weinberg, Corinth VII: 1. p. 56 and pi. 27, No. 190; Jb. Mainz 6 (1959), pi. 31:2. Weinberg associates with NG 700-703 (cf. Nos. 5-6, infra). 5. [3] New York, M.M.A. 21.88.169 (NC 700). Payne, pi. 22:5; G. M. A. Richter, Handbook of the Greek Collection (1953) 37 and 296, n. 60; Jb. Mainz 6 (1959), pis. 3234. Benson, GkV, 45, List 72, No. 1. 6. [4] Brussels, Bibliothèque Royale (NC 703). Feytmans, Les vases grecs (Brussels 1948), pis. 1-3; Jb. Mainz 6 (1959), pis. 35-37. Benson, GkV 45, List 72, No. 2. 7. Athens, N.M., from Perachora. Perachora II, 269 and pi. 95, No. 2587. Fragments (a.f.; below, bird frieze). Attributed by Brock, loc. cit., to the same hand as No. 2 supra, and associated with the group of NC 700-703. Cf. also Benson, Gnomon 36 (1964) 405. 8. Athens, N.M., from Perachora. Perachora II, 178 and pi. 74, No. 1824. Lid (of kotyle-pyxis ?). R . J . Hopper, loc. cit., compares with early Dodwell Painter (such as Payne, pi. 28:1), but the hand is surely that of the Royal Library Painter. Kotylai 9. [5] Corinth KP 1296, from the Potters' Quarter. Fragmentary (siren, lion). 10. [6] Mainz, Römisch-Germanisches Zentralmuseum No. 0.2792. Jb. Mainz 6 (1959). pis. 29-30 and 31:1. One a.f. 11. Athens, N.M., from Argive Heraion (NC 680). AH II, pi. 61:9a-9b. Fragmentary (bird frieze, dicing, a.f.). Cf. Payne, 296, on the relationship between NC 700-703 and NC 678-681. 12. Athens, N.M., from Argive Heraion. AH II, pi. 61:10.

Observations on the Warrior Group

21

Fragment (floral cross; below, bird frieze). Cf. Jb. Mainz 6 (1959) 106. 13. Athens, N.M., from Argive Heraion. AH II, pi. 61:2. Fragment (zigzags, dicing, a.f.). Cf. Jb. Mainz 6 (1959) 106 (there wrongly cited as "PI. 61:3"). 14. Kassel T.562. Plate 7. One a.f., with three-row dicing above and below it; double rays; in lip-zone, vertical zigzags. Very late. 15. Switzerland, Private Collection. H. Jucker (ed.), Antike Kunst aus Privatbesitz Bern-Biel-Solothurn in der Zentralbibliothek Solothurn, 21. Oktober bis 3. Dezember 1967, 25 and pl. 7, No. 79. In the lip-zone, dot-cluster rosettes alternating with triplets of vertical zigzag lines (cf. Nos. 4 and 5 supra); then two-row dicing, animal frieze, two-row dicing, single rays. In a.f. (not fully described in text): panther facing goat, bird to right, with head turned. . . . Very late. Pyxides (with convex sides, no handles) 16. [7] Private owner, U.S.A. Münzen und Medaillen, A.G. {Basel), Auktion XVIII, 29 Nov. 1958, No. 79, p. 25 and pl. 21; Jb. Mainz 6 (1959) 103f and pis. 37-39. On body: animal frieze. 17. Corinth T 1587 and T 1596, from North Cemetery. H. Palmer in Corinth XIII, 184 and pis. 86 and 124, No. 157-n. Lid preserved. Surface badly worn. One animal frieze. Dr. Palmer attributes this vase (tentatively and as an "earlier work") to the same hand as the pyxis Boston, M.F.A. 31.637 (i.e., to the Stobart Painter; see infra), but it must belong instead to that artist's predecessor, the Royal Library Painter. Oinochoe (Broad-Bottomed) 18. Prague, University. Narrow-necked type, with plastic "collar." One animal frieze; on shoulder, "incised verticals." I owe my knowledge of this vase to Axel Seeberg, who sent me a photograph of it, and first made the attribution. (Seeberg) Another broad-bottomed oinochoe, similar to the last but

22

Darrell A. Amyx

of much coarser execution, seems to be stylistically dependent on the Royal Library Painter: London, B.M. 1934.1-17.1. With narrow neck and plastic "collar." Two animal friezes. Repainted? Compare also the following kotyle: Athens, N.M. (number?). Syntax and subsidiary ornament as on No. 15 supra. In animal frieze: panther facing goat. . . . Cursory execution; either a very late work by the Painter, or from the hand of a close follower. This enlarged repertory of the Royal Library Painter allows us to see more clearly than before his relationship to the Duel Painter, and should make it impossible to confuse the two. They are close contemporaries (note that the beginning of the career of the Royal Library Painter goes back into the Transitional period: see supra, No. 2). 42 They show a like taste for neatly drawn, very carefully composed groups of figures, and for similarly tidy filling ornament consisting of rosettes liberally interspersed with small dots. Their actual styles, as shown by their renderings of comparable figures, differ considerably. If we take just one comparison, between the panthers of these two Painters, we find a systematic and very instructive set of differences. Let 42 The direct sequel to his style has been recognized in the work of the Stobart Painter, a Middle Corinthian artist whose best work helped to engender the concept of the so-called "Delicate Style." Cf. Amyx, " T h e Honolulu Painter and the 'Delicate Style,'" Antike Kunst 5 (1962) 3-8, especially 6f; L. Banti, "Pittore di Stobart", in EAA V I I (1966) 509. To the vases previously attributed, add the following convex pyxides with upright handles: Basel, Antikenmuseum 1921/304, with lid; Taranto 20779 (ASAtene NS 21-22, 1959-1960, 195 and fig. 168a; Lo Porto there compares this vase with London A 1377, by the Painter); convex pyxis without handles Oxford, Ashmolean 1965.103 (ex Spencer-Churchill; Apollo 77, Feb. 1963, 97, fig. 2, and Ashmolean Museum: Exhibition of Antiquities and Coins Purchased from the Collection of the Late Captain E. G. Spencer-Churchill, 11th23rd October 1965, No. 48, p. 9 and pi. 5.). Not by the Painter, but influenced by his style, is the late pyxis Taranto 4893 (BdA 47, 1962, 164 and fig. 20,a, which Lo Porto there compares with Berkeley, UCLMA8-4180 possibly by the Painter, and Munich S.L. 485, by the Geladakis Painter). The new attributions, though the pieces in question are quite good vases, tend to strengthen the impression that the Stobart Painter did not often rise to the quality of the Hearst head-pyxis, San Simeon State Historical Monument No. 5620 (SSW 9985). R . J . Hopper, followed by Benson (Gnomon 36, 1964, 405), attributes the oinochoe (or pyxis?) fragments Perachora II, 207f and pi. 75, No. 2035, and places ibid., No. 2034 close to the Painter. I see the likenesses, but I cannot confidently accept either of these as a work of the Stobart Painter.

Observations on the Warrior Group

23

us choose as typical examples: for the Duel Painter, the panther facing left on the Rhodes aryballos (pi. 2:4); and, for the Royal Library Painter, the panther confronted by a deer on the lid of the New York kotyle-pyxis (pi. 8: l). 4 3 Observe that, in the former case, the pupils of the eyes are incised; there is a fringe of whiskers on the cheeks; there is "flecking" on the neck; there is an incised "belly stripe"; and the shoulder area is completely enclosed, with an additional incised line inside it. Conversely, in the latter example there is a pair of incised curved lines on the back, below the tip of the tail (the Duel Painter gives only a single line here), and similar pairs of incised lines at the root and again near the tip of the tail (as against none at all in the Duel Painter's panthers); and, in the forelegs, the lower ends of the longitudinal incised lines are bent forward, and there is an additional horizontal incised line just below this bent line. There are of course other differences, but these will serve as easily noticed reminders when we turn to consider our next group of aryballoi. The aryballoi to which we must now address ourselves are very clearly bonafide members of the Warrior Group. It is especially necessary that we look closely at their style because there have been hints of a desire to associate them stylistically with the Duel Painter, whereas, as we shall see, they are more closely related to the style of the Royal Library Painter. LIST F: THE SYDNEY CLUSTER

Aryballoi 1. Sydney, Nicholson Museum 47.08. A. D. Trendall in Trendall and Stewart, Handbook to the Nicholson Museum2 (1948) 261, fig. 56, a. Swan to right, between sphinxes, between panthers. Whirligig spins counterclockwise (cf. Nos. 3 and 4, infra). Odd renderings, but not repainted, according to Dr. Richard Green. 2. New York, M.M.A. 07.286.37 (NC 494). Plate 8:2-4. Payne, pi. 21:5; Richter, Handbook of the Classical Collection (1930) 55, fig. 31, right; T. von Scheffer, Die Kultur der Griechen (Leipzig c. 1935), pi. 103, right. Panther to right, stag attacked by lion, swan with spread wings; in field, above panther's back, helmeted head. 43

Jb. Mainz, loc. cit., pi. 34.

24

Darrell A. Amyx. 3. Kassel T-673. Plate 9:1-4. Lullies, Am. (1966), 95 figs. 3-4. Panther to right, bull attacked by lion, swan to right. Whirligig spins counterclockwise (cf. Nos. 1 and 4). 4. Taranto 20,533. Plate 10:1. Lo Porto, ASAtene N.S. 2122 (1959-1960) 102f, figs. 79,a and 80. Swan between lions, their heads turned away from center. Lo Porto, loc. cit., mentions another aryballos from the same grave, No. 20,538, which, he says, has the same subject and is by the same hand as No. 20,533. He states also that this latter vase is "possibly" by the same hand as Nos. 1 and 2 supra. Whirligig spins counterclockwise, as on Nos. 1 and 3 supra—and also on NC 515 (London B.M. 84.10-11.48; Payne, pi. 21.8). 5. Once Basel, Market (1961). Plate 10:2-3. Neck, mouth, and part of handle missing. Above and below frieze, three-row dicing; at base, tongues? Stag to right, between lions; bull to right.

Compare also the conical oinochoe New York, M.M.A. 13.225.10 (NC 750; Payne, pi. 24:3; T. von Scheffer, Die Kultur der Griechen, pi. 103, middle), especially with No. 3, supra. That these vases all belong to the Warrior Group is generally stated, and their close relationship to other vases in the Group is obvious. However, the possibility of attributing any of them to the Duel Painter must be excluded (contrast especially the renderings of the felines, which differ significantly from his work). It even seems doubtful that any two of them are by a single artist. Nos. 2 and 3 seem particularly close to each other, and No. 1 is not far; and Lo Porto's conjecture that No. 4 is by the same hand as Nos. 1 and 2 shows how closely all of these vases resemble one another. But in spite of these likenesses there is difficulty. What they have most of all in common is their noticeable dependence on the style of the Royal Library Painter (see supra), and for that reason I still would hesitate to attribute any two of them to one hand. Indeed, the thought has occurred to me that one or more of them might be by the Royal Library Painter himself. Although this notion seems not to be borne out by the stylistic evidence, there is no good reason to doubt that one day we shall find Warrior Group aryballoi by that Painter. In the meantime, the aryballoi of the "Sydney Cluster" may be taken as signs pointing in that direction.

Observations on the Warrior Group

25

Looking back over the ground that we have covered, we can see that attempts have been made, with varying success, to find a narrower placement for nearly half of the vases listed by Payne as belonging to his Warrior Group (i.e., N.C. 488-527). With the aid of new materials not represented in Payne's list, we have been able to crystallize and clarify to some extent the stylistic subdivisions within the Group. There are still many loose ends. We were compelled to leave a good part of the material unplaced, and even to go backward in some instances, by pulling apart former groupings. Many of the vases are not fully published, and some are inaccessible for study. Furthermore, the remaining pieces in Payne's list—that is, those thus far not individually mentioned in this paper—represent a diversity of styles and a considerable range of quality. Among these pieces, several are unmatched oddities; others are poorer versions of themes and styles already discussed; and still others, though good vases in themselves, have up to now not been found to be obviously related to anything else in the Group. 44 In this somewhat ragged condition, the Warrior Group must be left for further study, in the hope that the present investigation will have helped to clarify certain issues and to mark out profitable lines of future research. University of California Berkeley

44 For instance, upon quickly scanning the list for examples omitted from the preceding discussions: NC 490 has very heavy renderings, remote from the style of the Duel Painter; NC 494A is very scratchy, the style peculiar; in NC 499 the style is very developed, post-Duel Painter, perhaps Middle Corinthian; NC 505 is thin and scratchy, generally inferior to the vases of our Equine Constellation; NC 522A is very odd, and fairly crude; NC 522B is done in a very poor style (N.B. : in Payne's list, the descriptions of 522A and 522B should be interchanged) ; and NC 527 is painted in a broad, heavy style, one might say peculiar to itself thus far. And so on.

PLATES

Plate i

1-4. Berkeley, U C L M A 8-68-6686. Aryballos. Photographs courtesy of the R. H . Lowie Museum of Anthropology, University of California, Berkeley.

Plate 2

Amyx

3

4

1 and 2. Columbia, Missouri, Univ. Mus. 61.32. Aryballos. Photographs courtesy of the museum. 3 and 4. Rhodes, Archaeological Museum, No. 13008. Aryballos. Author's photographs.

Plate 3

Patras, Greece, Archaeological Museum. Author's photographs.

Amyx

Plate 4

Amyx

3

4

1. London, British Museum 1922.10-17.1. Aryballos. Photographs courtesy Trustees of the British Museum. 2-4. Berlin Antikenabteilung, Staatliche Museen F 1056. Aryballos. Photographs courtesy of the museum.

Plate 5

Amyx

1. Princeton, University Art Museum 30.461. Aryballos. Photographs courtesy of the museum. 2. Taranto, N.M. 52,764. Aryballos. Photograph courtesy of the museum. 3 and 4. Once Basel Market (1961). Aryballos. Photographs courtesy of Dr. Herbert Cahn.

Amyx

3

Plate 6

4

1. Candia (Iraklion), N . M . 7789. Alabastron. Author's photograph. 2-4. Delos 413 (B.6487). Alabastron. Author's photographs.

Plate 7

Amyx

1 and 2. Kassel, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen T-562. Kotyle. Photographs courtesy of the museum.

Plate 8

1. New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art 21.88.169. Kotyle-pyxis (detail). Rogers Fund, 1921. Photograph courtesy of the museum. 2-4. New York, Metropolitan M u s e u m of Art 07.286.37. Aryballos. Rogers Fund, 1907. Photographs courtesy of Professor J . L. Benson.

Plate 9

Amyx

1-4. Kassel, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen T-673. Aryballos. Photographs courtesy of the museum.

Amyx

Plate io

1. Taranto, N.M. 20,533. Aryballos. Photograph courtesy of the museum. 2 and 3. Once Basel Market (1961). Photographs courtesy of Dr. Herbert Cahn.

2

APOSTOLOS ATHANASSAKIS

Elision and Other Problems relating to Short Vowel Hiatus in Hesiod In this study of elision in Hesiod I have included not only the Theogony and the Erga but also the Aspis1 of which some scholars attribute only the first fifty-three lines to Hesiod. No discussion of elision can avoid dealing with the problem of hiatus. Since it is the short vowels which are subject to elision, only short vowel hiatus will be discussed. The initial F, though not written in our texts of epic poetry, is closely connected with the problems of elision and vowel contact, in general. Indeed, in an impressive number of cases it seems instrumental in preventing elision. Further, the role of the ephelcystic v will be considered for the obvious reason that, whenever it is present, there can be no elision. It will be interesting to see whether the choice of variant forms afforded by the possibility of elision and the presence or absence of the initial F and the ephelcystic v are subject to a euphonic principle rather than the metrical demands of the hexameter. Elision is the elimination of a word-final vocalic entity before a word beginning with vowel whether aspirated or not. Whatever the exact phonological nature of the process of elision, in poetry an elided vowel is a final vowel which, even when appearing in the text, is prosodically ineffective. Examples in which a short vowel is prosodically ineffective, even though it appears in the text, can be found in metrical inscriptions ranging from the sixth century B.C. to the fourth century A.D. An examination of all such cases in Peek's collection of 1

3—C.S.C.A. II

Abbreviated as Th., E., A. respectively.

28

Apostolos Athanassakis

metrical inscriptions has yielded the conclusion that the practice of writing the elided vowel is haphazard and devoid of any significance.2 It is not confined to any particular age but it continues from earliest to latest antiquity with an inconsistency that defies classification. Elision seems to efface word boundary. An indication of this is the aspiration of an unaspirated voiceless stop preceding the elided vowel whenever the intial vowel of the following word is aspirated (Th. 23: apvas iroinalvovd' eXiKcovos w o £a0eoio). Therefore, it seems

highly speculative to argue as Kühner does, that, with the exception of cases similar to this one, the elided vowel does not disappear completely, but is pronounced weakly so that it no longer forms a full, syllable.3 It is the short vowels with the exception of v that are subject to elision; the diphthongs CM, icri KVSOS

32

ô/>é£a>. The example which he quotes from II. 17, 453 does not illustrate any euphonic principle. It only shows that the -v is dropped before a consonant where a long syllable would upset the meter. In another example which he gives: ¿AA' èyà> ovSév ae pé£a> KCIKOV . . . (II. 24, 370) he claims that ¿yd) does not appear as èycôv hTel àveTriSeKTov TO êiros 28 Chan traîne (supra, n. 8) 92. 29 M. Lejeune, Traité de Phonétique Grecque (Paris 1944) 286. 30 Schwyzer (supra, n. 14) 404ff. 31 Maas (supra, n. 4) 89ff. 32 Schneider-Uhlig, Apollonii Dyscoli quae Supersimt Omnia (Leipzig 1878) 98 (125A).

Elision and Short Vowel Hiatus in Hesiod

41

33

thereby conceding that metrical necessity determines the choice. On the whole, however, he seems to think that the presence or absence of the -v both before vowel and consonant is a matter of euphony. 34 It is not difficult to see how the dictum of this ancient grammarian did contribute toward the idea that hiatus had always been insufferable, and that the -v served, primarily, as means of preventing it. The presence of the ephelcystic -v before a word beginning with a consonant is determined by metrical expediency. I think that it can be demonstrated that metrical expediency is also the reason when the following word begins with vowel. Let us take a metrical place in the line like l b or 2b where no pause has been postulated and where no one has suggested that elision may not take place because hiatus may be tolerated. 35 At l b we have 134 cases of elision, no cases of lack of elision, and 16 cases of elidable short vowels followed by the ephelcystic v; at 2b the numbers are 106, 1, 5, respectively. At lb the ratio of elision to non-elision is 134:0; at 2b it is 106:1. It is quite obvious that in these two metrical places, elision is exceedingly common and that a short elidable vowel in final position may remain unelided very rarely and only if the meter demands it. The ephelcystic -v seems to be the factor which secures the vowel from elision when this vowel is necessary for a metrically possible quantitative sequence. I do not maintain that a short elidable vowel in final position is elided at all times whenever the following word begins with a vowel. I do maintain, however, that it is elided in the great majority of cases to the extent that lack of elision is on the whole, obtained through the employment of a protective element such as a movable consonant. A couple of examples should suffice to illustrate the point:

KprjTiKov

els avfujxovov

KaraXrjyovros

Th. 1 8 6 Tevyem Th.

Xafnrofievovs,

187 Nv(ias 6' as MeXtas

SoXi)( KaXeova

eyxea en

X€Paw airelpova

^XOVTasyatav

In Th. 186 the v is attached to \epm in order to protect its vowel from elision. In Th. 187 where the -i of KaXeovai is metrically redundant, this verbal form does not take the -v because that would prevent elision. 33 Ibid. 50 (63B). 34 Ibid., pp. 97, 253. 35 See tables, supra.

42

Apostolos Athanassakis

Additional evidence for the metrical role of the v in hexametric poetry can be drawn from inscriptional prose material. It is true that poetry and prose are not subject to the same rules because rhythm and symmetry and, consequently, quantity of vowels and number of syllables are far more important in poetry than they are in prose the nature of which is less restricted. But, if vowel juxtaposition had always been offensive to the Greek ear and if the -v had been employed as a means of reducing its occurrence, this ought to be evident also in prose. Prose material from inscriptions may be of greater value in this connection, not only on account of the lack of any changes due to spelling reforms and textual corruption, but also on account of its giving a truer reflexion of the realities of the language than the highly stylized and meticulous language of fourth-century writers. Hedde Maassen36 tabulated and studied the presence and absence of the ephelcystic -v in public Athenian decrees which he divided chronologically into three categories, the first one consisting of decrees issued prior to 403 B.C., the second one of decrees between 403 and 336 B.C., and the third one of decrees issued between 336 and 30 B.C. He found that epigraphical usage was by no means in consonance with the traditional Alexandrian rule which stipulated that the -v be written at all times before vowel and omitted before consonant. His tables show that, prior to 403 B.C., forms ending in -t and -e very frequently did not take the -v even though the following word started with a vowel. Too, the -v was frequently, though not quite to the same extent, written when the following word began with a consonant. After the end of the fifth century, the -v kept on occurring with greater frequency until, after the end of the fourth century it was almost always written both before vowel and consonant, though slightly more often before vowels then before consonants.37 If the consistency with which the -v is written before vowel by the end of the fourth century is to be interpreted as indicative of increasing aversion to hiatus, then, this aversion seems to have come into existence only in the course of the fourth century. The further back one goes into antiquity the more the examples of -i and -e standing before vowel without the ephelcystic -v. Logically, therefore, one would 36 Hedde J. J. Maassen, "De littera Ny Graecorum Paragogica Quaestiones Epigraphicae," Leipz. St. zur Class. Philologie 4 (1881) 1-64. 37 See also K. Meisterhans, Grammatik d. Attischen Inschriften, 3rd ed. by Schwyzer (Berlin 1900).

Elision and Short Vowel Hiatus in Hesiod

43

suppose that, in the times of Homer and Hesiod, concern over hiatus or, better, concern over obstructing vowel juxtaposition with the use of movable consonants must have been minimal or nonexistent. Yet, our Hesiodic text shows the ephelcystic -v after an unelided -i or -e which admit it, if the following word begins with a vowel. Are we, perhaps, to infer that this regularity does not go back to the times of the author, but is something which happened gradually until it took the shape of strict conformance to the Alexandrian rule in the hands of the grammarians ? If one should take the trend evident in prose inscriptions as a valid witness for poetry as well, one might answer this question in the affirmative. Evidence, however, from inscriptional verse militates against this assumption. I have examined all the epigrams in Peek's collection of metrical inscriptions,38 and have found that, in regard to the ephelcystic -v within the line, there is no discrepancy between the manuscript tradition which is followed by the Mazon text of Hesiod and the practice of the inscriptions. If a vowel follows and there is no elision, the -v is always written in anywhere in the line. No variation in practice from earliest to latest antiquity is found and the v is employed in similar fashion both before and after 150 B.C., the approximate date of the Alexandrian rule. A few examples from Peek's epigrams given according to the number under which they appear in his classification might serve to illustrate the consistency of usage: 73, 160, 862, 1225 (6th c.-5th c.); 545, 697, 897, 1105 (4th c.); 425, 867, 922 (3rd c.); 754, 872, 1149 (2nd c.). The discrepancy which exists in the inscriptional usage of the -v between prose and verse is, I think, not only significant but also indicative of the metrically important and indispensable function of this consonant in hexametric poetry. In verse the -v, before consonant, made position and, before vowel, prevented elision. In prose, however, length of vowel and number of syllables do not have to follow in any particular sequence. It is not surprising, therefore, to find the usage of the -v consistent and unchangeable where its role is functional and definite, and inconsistent and erratic where it would serve no concrete purpose. The gradual spreading of the -v in prose inscriptions may have been influenced by its extensive use in poetry,39 while its pattern of distribution in verse might have served as a model for the Alexandrian 38 w . Peek, supra, n. 2. 39 Schwyzer denies this in op. cit. (supra, n. 14) 406,

44

Apostolos Athanassakis

spelling convention. Be that as it may, the important inference which can be drawn from a comparison of prose inscriptions with verse inscriptions is that, in poetry, the primary role of the -v after the highly elidable vowels -i and -e was to prevent them from being slurred into, that is, elided into the following vowel, whenever metrical necessity demanded their presence. 40 If the mere prevention of hiatus per se were the essential function fulfilled by the -v, this consonant would not appear in prose inscriptions prior to 403 B.C. used with such indifference as to whether consonant or vowel followed. The presence of the -v before consonant in hexametric poetry, being metrically secure wherever it makes position, has not been the subject of controversy. This happens thirty-nine times in the Theogony, twenty-six times in the Erga, and nineteen times in the Aspis and no one can maintain that it was not part of the original text in these cases. Not wholly unchallenged has been the occurrence of the ephelcystic -v before vowel. Thus, Van Leeuwen, in agreement with Fick's practice in his edition of Homer, wanted it removed from the end of the line as well as from those places in which he considered hiatus legitimate, namely, before the trochaic caesura, the bucolic diaeresis, and interpunction. 41 Of course, he was primarily concerned with Homer, but I suspect that his opinion on what ought to be done with the -v before vowel in Hesiod would not have been different. We have seen, however, that in inscriptional verse, the treatment of the movable -v within the line is uniform. This epigraphical usage is an indication not only of the conjectural character of Van Leeuwen's opinion about the excision of the -v in certain places of the hexametric line but also of the lack of actual difference between vowel contact in these same places and vowel contact anywhere else in the line. University of California Santa Barbara

40 Although Van Leeuwen states that the movable consonants are used proutfert metrum, he maintains that the v does not help prevent elision in Homer (supra, n. 16) 113, 114.

41 Ibid.

3

NORMAN AUSTIN

Telemachos Polymechanos The character of Telemachos, it is generally agreed by Homeric Unitarians, undergoes a noticeable change, or a development, in the course of the Odyssey. Telemachos, when we first see him in Book 1, is a passive daydreamer, but when he returns from his mission abroad, he is resolute, intelligent, of an independent mind, and courageous enough to take a stand contrary to the wishes of the suitors who far outnumber him.1 In the modern discussions of his character the emphasis is placed primarily on one side of Telemachos' intelligence: his ability to cope with situations in a sensible way. But little attention has been given to that added dimension of intelligence which is the 1 For discussions of Telemachos' character see W. J . Woodhouse, The Composition of the Odyssey (Oxford 1930) 208-214; a fuller treatment in C. M. H. Miller and J . W. S. Carmichael, "The Growth of Telemachos," Greece and Rome 2nd Ser., 1 (1954) 58-64, and H. W. Clark, The Art of the Odyssey (Englewood Cliff's, N.J., 1967) 30-44. See also W.Jaeger, Paideia, 2nd ed., tr. G. Highet (New York 1945) I, 29-34, where there is a good treatment of Telemachos and his education. These works, where they note Telemachos' intelligence, generally mean it as good sense, but they neglect the dolos in Telemachos' character which manifests itself in outright subterfuges or subtle equivocations. For the Analysts the character of Telemachos is hardly a question for serious consideration, since they are led to posit at least two, and often three, poets for the Odyssey. A change in Telemachos they must attribute to the workings of different hands, or it must be denied altogether, as it is by the Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, Die Heimkehr des Odysseus (Berlin 1927) 106. Wilamowitz is right to this extent, that Telemachos exhibits many of the same characteristics in Book 1 as he does in later books, but there is a shift in emphasis. Telemachos is more timid than resolute in Book 1 and vice versa from Book 15 to the end. The "Telemachy" is such an enormous obstacle to the Analysts that this paper is not the vehicle to counter their arguments. For the ablest modern treatment of the problems of the " Telemachy" from the Analytic point of view see D. L. Page, The Homeric Odyssey (Oxford 1955), especially ch. I l l and Appendix, pp. 163-182.

46

Norman Austin

particularly Odyssean family trait: that ability to see through other men's actions and words while devising schemes to conceal one's own intentions. It would be a strange thing indeed if, with Autolykos for great-grandfather, Odysseus for father, Penelope for mother and Athena for divine patron, Telemachos should grow to manhood with not a trace of the congenital proclivity for deception, or if we prefer, for artful invention. The evidence does not disappoint us. Contrasted with Odysseus' matured craftsmanship, the strategies of Telemachos may seem tentative gestures rather than confident assertions. Despite that, they are sufficient in variety and number to assure us that in this respect Telemachos will prove himself no illegitimate son. One factor which has considerable influence on Telemachos' character, both in its development and in its expression, is the dilemma in which he is placed. Athena in her first appearance to Telemachos instructs him to go abroad in search of news of his father. On the other hand, she has also made him aware that he must now assume an adult role in Ithaka. Telemachos must now act as the surrogate for Odysseus at home. He must assume the management of the affairs of the oikos, and in particular act as Penelope's protector. Here are two duties, both necessary and yet contradictory to each other. How is a man to protect his mother and his estate, or what is left of it, while abroad ? To go abroad is necessary but it would be a disgrace if the suitors, in his absence, force Penelope into marriage and appropriate the whole estate. That would be a sorry event indeed for a young man to have to explain to his father if his father should return. 2 In comparison to the dilemmas with which other characters in Greek literature must cope, Telemachos' situation is quite singular. Achilleus, for example, faces what for him is a clear-cut issue in the Iliad. He has been wronged by Agamemnon and he has two mutually exclusive alternatives. Either he can suffer the insult and remain with the Greeks or he can deny further allegiance to Agamemnon by seceding from the army. Fiat iustitia pereat mundus. So too with the other classic examples of moral dilemma: Antigone, Philoktetes, even Oedipus. Their sense of justice dictates that one alternative is morally more cogent than another, and they are prepared to accept the con2 Telemachos' predicament was for the Analysts an argument for the separate existence of the "Telemachy." See E. Bethe, Homer-. Dichtung und Sage (Leipzig and Berlin 1929) II, 15, and H. W. Clark, 34—35. Odysseus himself recognizes the problem which Telemachos' journey causes when he asks Athena at 13.417: "Did you want Telemachos too to roam the seas and suffer while other men devoured his property?"

Telemachos Polymechanos

47

sequences of their choice. But for Telemachos, of the two alternatives both are equally right and yet for him to follow through on A is to invite catastrophe in B. Even the story of Orestes, which throughout the poem acts as the paradigm for Telemachos, is not a helpful parallel. 3 For Orestes the situation was unambiguous. His father had been murdered and his own place usurped. His duty was clear: to avenge his father's death and to restore his own estate. Telemachos' situation is, in contrast, highly ambiguous. He does not know whether his father is alive or not. No one has appropriated his estate or even seriously threatened to do so— the suitors may be squandering it but their action has at least a certain legitimacy. The morality of their behavior, as in turn the morality of Telemachos' behavior towards them, ultimately hinges on Odysseus' present status. What is morally reprehensible in them if he is alive is justifiable, or excusable at least, if he is dead. Telemachos is thus faced with the need to make categorical decisions in a quite non-categorical situation. To act decisively (and in his case even inaction would be a decisive act), he must take uncertainties for certainties. Moreover, he will be judged by his father (if alive), by the heroic world, and by future generations not on the moral soundness of his choice but on the success or failure which results from his actions. Telemachos' problem, therefore, is not the choice of one of two alternatives but the coordination of both. It is above all a matter of timing. Telemachos' problem will be to determine at what point to consider his mission abroad accomplished. After that moment any further delay would be inexcusable, and even an act of cowardice. If he misjudges the moment he may involve himself and his house in utter collapse. Telemachos' education, therefore, is a lesson in Kaipós. He must learn to fulfill conflicting claims simultaneously. That the psychological dilemma is a reality for Telemachos, at least from the time he reaches Pylos, can be shown from the text. 4 Homer, however, does not elaborate on the dilemma at length. 3 A good study of the instructive purpose of the allusions to Orestes in the poem is given by E. F. D'Arms and K. K. Hulley, "The Oresteia-Story in the Odyssey," TAPA 77 (1946) 207-213. The story of Orestes teaches Telemachos the important lesson that he must no longer sit passively but must act to improve his own situation. 4 It may be possible to see in Telemachos' decision to leave Ithaka without his mother's knowledge his first recognition of the dilemma. If she had pleaded with him to stay, how could he have justified his journey to her? If this is too conjectural, we must agree that Telemachos has certainly become aware of his predicament at 3.249-252.

48

Norman Austin

Our justification, therefore, for insisting upon it must be that it gives coherence to otherwise confused and apparently illogical events or statements. Several of the problems raised by earlier Analysts concerning the chronology of the "Telemachy", or the behavior of Telemachos can be seen as resulting from the dilemma itself or from Telemachos' attempt at a resolution of that dilemma. The most serious chronological problem is that of Telemachos' alleged dalliance at Sparta. The studies of the chronology of the Odyssey have shown, by correlating the action of the "Telemachy" with that of Books 5-15, that Telemachos must have lingered on for twenty-nine or thirty days after his morning's conversation with Menelaos in Book 4. 5 And this in spite of his refusal to accept Menelaos' continued hospitality and his anxiety to be on his way. Faced with this inconsistency, scholars are forced to hypothecate a reason for Telemachos' forgetfulness or change of mind. We are given the entertaining suggestion by Delebecque, for example, that Telemachos, displaying something of his father's predilection for feminine charms, was so overcome by the beauty of Helen as to forget entirely the threatening situation at home until brought rudely to his senses by Athena a month later. 6 This adherence to strict chronology, however, fails to take into account what A. Kirchhoff had observed, that when our attention is turned back to Telemachos in Book 15 the action picks up where it had left off in Book 4. 7 The gifts which Telemachos receives at his departure in Book 15 are the very ones which Menelaos had promised in Book 4. For Kirchhoff this was clear evidence that the original "Telemachy" had been separated to make room for the tale of the Wanderings of Odysseus. Kirchhoff's observation was correct but his explanation not the only possible, or even the most plausible one. More recently, scholars have shown that time simply does not exist for Telemachos from 4.624 until we return to him at 15.4. There is, says U. Hölscher, no time lapse between the two scenes at Sparta, but only the Wander5 For the most thorough modern studies of the chronology of the Odyssey see B. Hellwig, Raum und £eit im homerischen Epos ("Spudasmata" 2, Hildesheim 1964) and É. Delebecque, Télémache et la structure de V Odyssée, Publ. des Annales de la Faculté des Lettres, N.S. 21 (Aix-en-Provence, Université d'Aix-Marseille, 1958). ® Delebecque, 25. 7 A. Kirchhoff, Die homerische Odyssee (Berlin 1879) 190-192. V. Bérard, Introduction à l'Odyssée (Paris 1925) III, 31 Iff, also found it difficult to accept Telemachos' 30-day stay in Sparta. He questions the feasibility of a 30-day ambush at sea, and concludes that in the original "Telemachy" the ambush could have lasted only a few days.

Telemachos Polymechanos

49

ings of Odysseus, i.e., a set of events in a separate time-space continuum.8 This observation, which shows a surer understanding of the epic convention of chronological continuity, could be further supported by reference to Telemachos' personal situation. The most important reason for Telemachos' journey is to learn of his father's whereabouts. Once Menelaos has told him that, according to Proteus, Odysseus was being held on an island by Kalypso, Telemachos' mission has been accomplished.9 There is now not only no further reason for his staying abroad, but even a distinct danger in his doing so. Political power was in Homeric times, as M. Finley has shown, always a precarious possession, acquired and maintained only by personal initiative, not by the sanctions of a stable and ordered society.10 Telemachos, while still in Ithaka, is already much concerned with preserving or recovering his estate and his estate becomes his total preoccupation after he has learned of Odysseus' whereabouts.11 Nestor, furthermore, warns him against leaving his possessions too long without any protection, in the same language that Athena later uses to Telemachos in Book 15 (3.313-316). As soon as Telemachos has the information he wanted from Menelaos, his only thought is to return home as quickly as possible. Much as he would like to stay and listen to Menelaos for a whole year, he says, he must be back to his friends at Pylos (4.595-599). When he asks to be sent on his way in Book 15 he is equally impatient but more honest. Athena plays on his fear for his property in the most direct way (15.10-13) and Telemachos is likewise direct but more discreet when he says to Menelaos (15.88-91): "I left no guard over my property. May the search for my father not be the cause of my own destruction (^17 . . . avto? oAw^ai)." How Telemachos, being comfortably entertained in Sparta, could be in personal danger he makes clear by the following epexegetic statement: "May I not lose some precious heir-loom at home." It would make no sense at all to suppose that the young man who is so vexed by the erosion of his estate in Books 1 and 2, who 8 Uvo Hölscher, Untersuchungen zur Form des Odyssee, Hermes Einzelschriften 6 (Berlin 1939) 2-3. 9 This is recognized by F. Klinger, Die vier ersten Bächer der Odyssee, Ber. Sächs. Akad. d. Wiss. zu Leipzig, Phil.-hist. Kl. 96 (1944) 41-47. Klinger does not seem to appreciate that Telemachos' return can no longer be postponed. 10 On this point see M. I. Finley, The World of Odysseus (New York 1954) 74-113 and also Clarke (supra, n. 1) 31-32. 11 See Ody. 1.374-380; 397-404 and Finley 74-113.

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is reminded of that danger by Nestor in Book 3, who is impatient to be home in Book 4, and who shows himself keenly aware of his duty to protect his home in Book 15 should have blithely exchanged his anxiety for the pleasures of an extended vacation in Sparta. Nothing in the text permits us to attribute him with such an anomalous reversal in his character. In Athena's words to Telemachos in Book 15, there is no suggestion of a time lapse, and certainly no accusation of dereliction of duty or forgetfulness. Both topics surely would have served as her most forceful argument. But all she says is (15.10): " I t is no longer judicious for you (>caAa) to be wandering far from home." Menelaos likewise makes no reference to an extended visit in his discourse the next day on the duties of a host. His only point is that o /caipo? dictates that a host must no more think of detaining a guest against his will than of pushing one on his way. His very next remarks would suggest that he finds Telemachos' departure premature. Menelaos would very much like to escort Telemachos personally around Hellas and Argos. This does not sound as if Telemachos had already spent thirty days in Sparta. Telemachos himself makes no reference to a time lapse, though if he had already stayed a month we might expect him to use this as an argument for leaving. For contrast we may note the emphasis on time and chronological exactitude at Odyssey 10.467-486, when the moment has come for Odysseus' departure from Kirke's island. We are told explicitly by the poet that a full year has passed. The duration of Odysseus' stay is further emphasized by his comrades' plea to him to "remember your fatherland," and by Odysseus' own words that his comrades are wearing him down with their groans whenever Kirke is not around. When time is an important consideration Homer is explicit. In Book 15, when neither Athena nor Menalaos nor Telemachos make any reference to time, an argument from silence is legitimate. Since a time lapse would be highly inappropriate here the poet is careful to exclude anything which could give us an indication of time. 12 The chronological continuity between the scenes in Sparta in Books 4 and 15 is essential. There is no lapse in either time or character. The impatience which Telemachos exhibits in Book 15 is exactly 12 The chronological studies referred to (supra, n. 5) are, of course, correct. Homer does not portray simultaneous events as such but as consecutive events. Homer seems, however, to be at pains to gloss over this inconsistency in Book 15. For a good discussion of this point see Page (supra, n. 1) 77, n. 14 and p. 79.

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the same impatience which he exhibited in Book 4. All that has intervened is that Athena has appeared to reinforce his fears by making them concrete and specific. The somewhat slanderous aspersions which Athena makes on Penelope's character must be seen in the perspective of Telemachos' recognition of his adult duties at home. These aspersions made by Athena in Book 15 on Penelope's character have led to some unfair aspersions in modern times on Telemachos' character. It is sometimes argued from this passage that Telemachos entertained a low opinion of his mother's marital fidelity and that here surfaces his suspicion that Penelope has been partial to Eurymachos for some time. The element of suspicion in his mind is undeniable, but it is also perfectly natural. Telemachos' attention has now shifted entirely from Odysseus to Ithaka. Now that he has news of his father his most serious problem is to postpone a marriage at home until Odysseus' return. It is natural that the young man who has been made aware of his responsibilities by Athena in Book 1 will assume that his mother, left defenseless, will have surrendered to the most persistent suitor. The fears which express themselves in Athena's apparently cynical reflections on Penelope's fidelity are psychologically true because they reflect the anxiety and even the guilt of the young man who fears he may have betrayed both father and mother by his departure from Ithaka. The only act left to him which can make his departure from Ithaka defensible is to arrive back in Ithaka in time to prevent his mother's remarriage. Though the text attests to Telemachos' recognition of the predicament which stems from his double loyalty, his recognition is often highly oblique. It is here that we come upon the particularly Odyssean aspect of Telemachos' character. Telemachos shows a preference for keeping silent while others talk for him or, if forced to make a statement, for giving an outright lie or a discreet circumlocution, truthful but revealing nothing. This is so consistent a practice that we may justifiably take it to be a distinguishing trait of his character. One of the most conspicuous and charming examples of an unequivocal lie is the excuse Telemachos gives to decline Menelaos' hospitality at 4.595-599: " I could sit and listen to you for a full year with no yearning for home or parents, so great is the pleasure your stories give me. But now my friends in Pylos will be concerned about me." The young man who claims that he could put aside any remembrance of his family yet asserts that the obligations of friendship demand his speedy return.

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We who are more cognizant of his character know that those nameless comrades waiting in Pylos are nothing to Telemachos while his family is everything. We find another circumlocution in his speech to Menelaos in Book 15.87-91. When Telemachos first arouses Peisistratos he gives no reason for his sudden nocturnal anxiety. Later, however, when pressed by Menelaos to stay, he gives a truthful but evasive answer, a model of decorum. He fears, he says, that in his absence he may have lost some precious heirloom from his halls (v. 91). Such is Telemachos' urbane distillation of Athena's raw hints about Penelope's possible surrender to Eurymachos' blandishments. Has ever truth been more gracefully deceptive ? But Telemachos was not always this way. When we first see him he is a candid and ingenuous young man. What changed him ? Athena's first appearance. That was an important moment in his life. The educational purpose of Athena's mission has been discussed by others, but what has seldom been noticed is that her technique is as important as her instructions. 13 Her epiphany to Telemachos is in several respects unique among the many epiphanies in the Iliad and the Odyssey. By impersonating Mentes, a total stranger to Telemachos, she guarantees for herself a foolproof disguise. Moreover, she is careful to maintain the disguise in all details. She behaves in all respects as a human guest might behave. She claims no knowledge that an old friend of Odysseus could not be expected to know; in fact, while prophesying Odysseus' return she scrupulously deprecates her mantic skill (1.200205). As if to substantiate her pose of human ignorance parading as knowledge she had just told the lie that Odysseus was being held captive on an island by cruel and savage men (1.196-199). Athena proceeds to educate Telemachos into consciousness of himself as the son of Odysseus and of the responsibility which that entails by the Socratic method. Avoiding the customary behavior of gods when they have instructions to relay to mortals, she chooses the less coercive but more persuasive method of dialogue. She allows Telemachos the host's privilege to put his questions first, and only when those have been answered does she put her own questions. By posing questions out of a feigned ignorance (though she admits to having heard rumors) she compels Telemachos to confront his own situation. Only after she has led him to articulate his position does she See, in particular, Jaeger (supra, n. 1) 31, who notes that Athena, "when she gives advice to Telemachos, expressly describes her advice as education."

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begin to give her advice. Athena is the skillful psychotherapist who forces her patient to verbalize, and thereby creates in him the psychological readiness for action. To be compelled to define his embarrassing position, to have to admit to another person that he is Odysseus' son only by repute and not by personal evidence, places as strong a compulsion upon Telemachos as any outright command. 14 The point of Athena's maieutic method is made clear at her departure. After maintaining her disguise throughout the scene Athena metamorphoses into a bird and flies away. We may take this as another instance of the whimsicality which she manifests so exuberantly through the Odyssey, if we understand it as whimiscality in method only, not in intent. We are told that Telemachos at once recognized that his visitor had been a deity (1.322-323). Why the necessity for the elaborate fictional identity when Athena fully intended Telemachos to see through the disguise at the end? The answer is that Telemachos has been given his first lesson in discernment. During his conversation Telemachos was being educated to recognize his situation and to acknowledge his own responsibilities. Athena's self-revelation at her departure carries his education one step further. His powers of observation must be educated to penetrate disguises, to distinguish the genuine from the spurious. Throughout the poem, beginning with Zeus's opening speech (1.32-43), there is considerable emphasis on discernment. The family of Odysseus, and certain of their friends and slaves, are characterized by perspicacity and discretion while the suitors are characterized by the opposite quality—a psychological and moral myopia which manifests itself in recklessness and obtuseness of exterior vision. It is significant that Telemachos' first lesson should be in visual perception. Athena compels Telemachos to sharpen his inner vision and then to train a more discerning eye on the external phenomena around him. We do not have long to wait for the first application of the lesson. Telemachos acquits himself well by putting his newly-acquired 1 4 T h e epiphany of Hermes to Priam in Iliad 24 is the only divine appearance in Homer which is a t all similar to Athena's appearance to Telemachos. T h e significant difference is that Priam had already been told by Iris that Hermes would escort him (II. 24.183-184), and Priam is quick to recognize that Hermes is his divinely appointed escort (II. 24.373-377). Perhaps the closest parallel to Athena's method is Nestor's dialogue with Telemachos in Od. 3. Nestor too elicits information from Telemachos first and then admits to having heard rumors.

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discretion to good use almost immediately after Athena's departure. In his reply to Eurymachos' questions on the identity of the visitor, Telemachos tells his first lie and in so doing puts himself firmly on the path of Odyssean cunning. More precisely, he tells not one but three lies in quick succession (1.413-419): " M y father will never return," he says. " I no longer am swayed by messengers who may chance by or by the pronouncements of seers whom my mother may invite in. The stranger you ask about was Mentes, an old friend of my father's." The last is a lie of Athena's making, second-hand material lying conveniently to hand for the occasion. But the first two, which spring from Telemachos' own quick intelligence, show him as much capable of personal initiative in mendacity as in other activities of life. Now, as never before, Telemachos has reason to think his father alive and to respect the words of messengers or seers. It is the suitors who cannot recognize a messenger and mock at prophecies. Telemachos is an apt pupil in Athena's school.15 For the rest of the poem Telemachos is never again so ingenuous as he was in his first conversation with Athena, except when talking to his father. Whether it be with friends or enemies, or even with Penelope, Telemachos is always cautious never completely candid. Where it is so characteristic of Homeric heroes to verbalize their situation in detail, Telemachos distinguishes himself by his restraint or by his equivocal statements. Where other Homeric characters repeat verbatim the instructions brought to them in dreams or in divine epiphanies, Telemachos either makes no allusion to them or abbreviates and paraphrases them as in Book 15. His laconic style may be attributed in part to his youthful modesty. He is hesitant and deferential before his elders most of the time (though far from deferential towards his mother, towards Nestor and Mentor/Athena at 3.240, and 15 It is common to interpret all Telemachos' denials of the possibility of his father's return as the expression of genuine despair. A. J. Podlecki, "Omens in the Odyssey," Greece and Rome 2nd Ser., 14 (1967) 17, admits that Telemachos' answer to Eurymachos may be a shrewd attempt to throw the suitors off their guard but thinks it more likely that Telemachos has relapsed into his state of habitual discouragement. Telemachos may at times be discouraged and ambivalent, but this is not such an occasion. The whole point of this scene is that Telemachos is no longer in despair but must deliberately maintain the façade of despair, as v. 420 makes clear: "So spoke Telemachos, but in his heart he recognized (an) immortal god." When Eurymachos the next day boasts that he pays no attention to omens (2.178-182, 200-201) he is being truthful, and his very truthfulness incriminates him.

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towards his Spartan hosts at 4.291-295). But deference is only partly the answer. Even when he is among friends Telemachos is evasive, when there is no need for evasion. His dialogue with Nestor gives a good example of this kind of reticence. At first he is completely candid. He has come, he says, for news of his father (3.79-101). Nestor's reply leads around to an allusion to Orestes, and Nestor concludes his recital of the nostoi with a direct comparison between Orestes and Telemachos. In reply to this Telemachos shifts from candor to what we must call a good imitation of candor ( w . 202-209): " Would that the gods would give me such strength to wreak vengeance on the suitors for their outrage. But the gods allotted me no such good fortune—not to me or my father. Instead we must endure." Telemachos denies the possibility of Odysseus' return even more strenuously a few lines later ( w . 226-228): " I don't think this will come to pass. Such things would not happen for me, not even if the gods should will it." This scepticism is too much for Athena. She sharply rebukes him (w. 230-238): " W h a t a thing to say, Telemachos! It would be an easy thing for a god, if he should so choose, to bring a man back safely from a far distance." Telemachos' next speech is significant, for it reveals that his words do not at all correspond to his real thoughts ( w . 240-252): "Mentor, let us not talk of that. Odysseus' return is no longer real. The gods have already allotted him his death. But let me ask Nestor one other thing, for he has a knowledge beyond other men's of counsel and of what is right (Siicaj ij8e poviv). Nestor, how did Agamemnon die? Where was Menelaos? What kind of death did that schemer Aigisthos plot for Agamemnon ? Menelaos must have been absent and that was why Aigisthos had the audacity to commit the deed." The whole speech deserves detailed analysis, but perhaps the key words are Si/ca? ijSe p6viv. This is what Telemachos wants to know, but not so much with reference to Aigisthos as to Orestes, the one person whose name he has not mentioned here. Far from dismissing the parallel between himself and Orestes and steeling himself to passive endurance, as he had claimed earlier, his only thought is of the parallel. His real question is the unspoken one: How did Orestes kill Aigisthos ? The death of Agamemnon is not as relevant for Telemachos as the death of Aigisthos, but Telemachos is careful not to betray his true interest. We may note, furthermore, that in assuming that Aigisthos had been emboldened by the absence of Menelaos, Telemachos gives his first overt recognition of the dangers of his own

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absence. He hints that he fears that he may be a second Menelaos who is absent from home at a critical moment. The circuitous line of argument and questioning which Telemachos adopts in this scene illustrates a fact which becomes even more evident in Books 4 and 15. Telemachos will talk of the situation at home if pressed, but he prefers not to divulge the full particulars or to give any hint of what action he may take on his arrival back home. He gives a patently false pretext for his departure in Book 4 and even when he talks in Book 15 of guarding his property this is elegant euphemism. Like Odysseus in the Iliad, Telemachos maintains a distance between himself and others. 16 Not that he doesn't impress his hosts at Pylos and Sparta as being a well-spoken young man, friendly, polite and honest. But we, who see him from the author's perspective rather than from theirs, recognize that Telemachos' candor died after Athena's first visit in Book 1. The candor which impresses Menelaos in Book 4 is thè kind which is achieved by artifice. The journey of Telemachos is his education. In his journey he is introduced for the first time to the manners of a civilized world. Through the stories which his hosts tell him he is introduced to the models of the heroic life. From these models and from his hosts' comments he learns what the heroic code is and what that code expects of him in particular (the SUas). Of all the paradigms held up before him, by far the most important, the one to which most attention is given, is that of his father. Odysseus is presented as the heroic man, favored by Athena, who fought bravely, but he is also presented as the supremely cunning strategist. Of the two aspects it is his cunning which receives greater recognition than his heroic conduct. 17 When we recall that most of the allusions to Odysseus in Books 3 and 4 have his cunning as their theme we can understand that for Telemachos cunning was the preOn this aspect of Odysseus' character see W. B. Stanford, The Ulysses Theme (Oxford 1954) eh. IV. A fine poetic representation of the growing likeness of son to father is given when Telemachos retires behind his cloak to hide his feelings from his Spartan hosts (4.114-116), just as Odysseus does at Alkinoos' court (8.83-95). It is a nice irony that Helen and Menelaos should recognize Telemachos by the identical gesture of concealment which Odysseus is at that moment using at the Phaeacian court. The studies which emphasize the educational purpose of Telemachos' journey, even when they recognize that Odysseus is Telemachos' most important paradigm, do not attach sufficient weight to the fact that it is Odysseus' dolos which is his most highly praised characteristic. The poem, by structural and linguistic repetitions, draws many similarities between Odysseus and Telemachos. These I have not attempted to mention in detail since they form the substance of an unpublished paper by Anne Amory Parry.

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eminent characteristic of his father's which he should emulate. Telemachos has, therefore, three most persuasive models of cunning to instruct him: Athena, whose disguise he witnessed personally, Orestes and Odysseus, who are expressly presented to him as paradigms. With cunning as the predominant theme of his education abroad, we should expect that Telemachos should on his return to Ithaka give clear evidence that he has profited from his models. While abroad he had demonstrated some capacity for disguising his true feelings and keeping his own counsel, but there had been little scope for his talents. He had been a passive, albeit a receptive, audience, observing, questioning, listening. When he arouses Peisistratos in Book 15 he starts to act for himself; it is from this point, therefore, that we should look for the more conspicuous examples of his dexterity in disguise. Here Telemachos is prevented from fully exercising his independent intelligence by the reappearance of Odysseus on the scene. With Odysseus in control, Telemachos is left little opportunity to show his own talent for inventive deceits; he must play the part assigned to him. This subordinate role, however, is a continuing part of his education. It is only Odysseus in person, preeminently the man of disguises, the Proteus among mortals, who can present the final educative paradigm. It is essential that Telemachos should enter on the higher rites only in the company of his father. Telemachos' journey had been the largely theoretical side of his education; in Ithaka comes the chance for practical education, in Telemachos' observation and imitation of il maestro, Odysseus himself. Telemachos, as we should expect, enjoys the game of disguise in Ithaka immensely and plays it with great zest. Largely it is a game dictated by Odysseus, but Telemachos adds his personal touches wherever he can. When Odysseus gives him his instructions in Eumaios' hut, for example, he says that Telemachos is to return to the palace alone the next morning, while Eumaios will later bring Odysseus disguised as a beggar (16.270-273). The next morning Telemachos has changed, entirely on his own initiative, from the solicitous host to the contemptuous aristocrat who tells Eumaios, with considerable sarcasm, that Odysseus can beg for himself in town, and if he doesn't like it, so much the worse for him. He concludes this first rehearsal in his new persona with the gem of Odyssean irony (17.15): "You may be sure that I am a man who prefers to tell the truth." Many other instances could be listed to show his aptitude

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for the actor's role. We need think only of Telemachos' account to Penelope of his travels, which is so studious of truth, while avoiding the only significant piece of information, that Odysseus is in Ithaka (17.107-149). We think also of those ironic remarks in which he so obviously delights. As, for example, when he says in reference to Odysseus, who is already at work scheming in the palace (17.347): "Modesty ill suits a man in need." Or his parting words to Eumaios that same evening (17.601) : "These things shall be my concern and the concern of the immortal gods." Or his remark to Eurykleia (19.27-28), that Odysseus must help him carry the arms out of the hall, "for I will not tolerate an idle man if he is to share my board, no matter how great a distance he has travelled." Or his supercilious reference to his mother, when he asks Eurykleia whether Odysseus had been suitably provided for, a reference which is all too often taken literally (20.131-133): "You know, that's the way my mother is, for all her shrewdness. She can be indiscriminate. She'll honor a worse man, while dismissing the better completely without consideration." There are two examples of Telemachos' shrewd disguise which are far more important than the occasional ironic remark. The first is his action vis-à-vis Theoklymenos on the shore of Ithaka (15.508543). Theoklymenos has particularly vexed the Analysts and it must be agreed that he presents certain problems. Homer insists on his presence, however, and gives him a role which is significant and highly dramatic. Of the scenes in which Theoklymenos plays a part, perhaps the most curious is that in which Telemachos entrusts him to Eurymachos, only to reverse his decision immediately after Theoklymenos' interpretation of the omen and to entrust him instead to Peiraios. The scholiast's comment that Telemachos changes his mind does not solve the problem of why Telemachos should think of entrusting a man to whom he has promised asylum to his arch-enemy. Even if Eurymachos were now lord in Ithaka, it would make no sense to send Theoklymenos to him for protection. Telemachos may be anxious but he is not hysterical. Given the repeated hints in the earlier books of his thoughtfulness and perspicacity, and the reminder that Telemachos remained alert through the night of that homeward journey, "wondering whether he should escape death or be captured" (15.300), we must take his conduct towards Theoklymenos as deliberate and sensible. We are compelled to accept C. H. Whitman's interpretation that Telemachos has here attempted to solicit an omen; i.e., to

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put the gods to the test by uttering the opposite of what he believes or hopes to be true.18 The concluding lines of Telemachos' speech to Theoklymenos make it clear that his thoughts and his utterances are entirely at variance. After his extravagant praise of Eurymachos as a noble son of a noble father, the best of men, a veritable god, he reveals his irony (15.523-524): "But Olympian Zeus knows whether Eurymachos will realize his marriage first or his death." Theoklymenos' interpretation of the subsequent bird omen is really a refutation of Telemachos' ostensible praise of Eurymachos (w. 532-533): "No, Telemachos, there is no family in Ithaka which threatens your royal prerogatives. You have the greater power." This is an uncommon method of soliciting omens, but the kind of attitude which lies behind Telemachos' action here runs through the whole Odyssey. Frequently characters make utterances which are contrary to their true beliefs. The suitors expose their blindness by their sarcastic hopes that Odysseus will return. Penelope and Telemachos, on the other hand, express the opposite belief, that Odysseus will never return. They speak not out of despair but precisely because their hope is still alive. When Odysseus interprets her dream by saying that Odysseus is still alive and will return, Penelope reacts by dismissing his interpretation and talking instead of the difficulty of distinguishing between true and false dreams. An utterance which coincides too closely with her deepest wishes becomes almost a bad omen. Penelope protects herself against the fates by retreating behind her camouflage: she disclaims any credence in her dreams. Her decision to proceed with the 18 C. H. Whitman, Homer and the Heroic Tradition (Cambridge, Mass., 1958) 341, n. 13. The studies on ancient divination, such as W. R. Halliday, Greek Divination (London 1913), A. Bouché-Leclercq, Histoire de la divination dans l'antiquité (Paris 1879), do not mention such a solicitation by opposites in their discussions of inductive divination. The more specialized studies of omens and prophecies in Homer, such as Podlecki, (supra, n. 15) 12-23, and C. H. Moore, "Prophecies in the Ancient Epic," HSCP 32 (1921) 99-175, likewise make no mention of such a form of divination, although Agamemnon's decision to test the troops in Iliad 2 is certainly of this kind, as Whitman notes. G. S. Kirk, The Songs of Homer (Cambridge 1962) 241, thinks it reasonable that Telemachos should decide to let one of the suitors entertain Theoklymenos since it would be a problem for Telemachos to entertain him when the suitors "virtually control the palace." But if Telemachos could not compel the suitors to betake themselves to their own houses, how could he possibly have expected them to entertain a friend of his, when they were much more intent on enjoying his involuntary hospitality? Why should Telemachos think of Eurymachos at all when he had a loyal friend right beside him? Whitman's interpretation seems necessary to make sense of the whole scene. 3 — C . S . C . A . II

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test of the bow shows the same psychological process. 19 Outwardly, it is the pretense of accepting facts, particularly the fact of Odysseus' death, but inwardly it is a cry to the fates to intervene to produce a result contrary to general expectation. Telemachos, too, shows the same mental attitude, the same ambivalence of fear and hope, when he bluntly states in Pylos that his father is dead. He too disguises his real hopes behind the protective façade of resignation. The difference between Telemachos' expression of resignation in Pylos and his action in Ithaka is that ambivalence has given way to confidence. Telemachos has become more conscious of what he is doing. His earlier expressions were self-protective mechanisms, but now the wish uttered as its opposite has become action rather than reaction. In a bold gamble he asserts what he does not believe, that Eurymachos is Prince par excellence among the Ithakans, and also what he does not intend, that Theoklymenos should stay with Eurymachos. This act marks a further stage in Telemachos' developing percipience. It is his first wholly independent act. Without any advisers, Telemachos performs a gesture at once spontaneous, forthright and shrewd. The scene marks a significant moment in Telemachos' life. On his return home, after his successful evasion of the ambush at sea, Telemachos performs this gesture which is emblematic of successful completion of his rite of passage to manhood. We know that he is now emotionally and intellectually prepared to face the suitors. The other high point of Telemachos' life, the culmination, in fact, of his education in the art of disguise, occurs when Penelope proposes the test of the bow to the suitors. Telemachos comes, at this crisis, to his full maturity. When Penelope publicly proposes the contest, Telemachos, immediately foreseeing the outcome, is so captivated by his knowledge of the ironies of the situation, a knowledge which not even Penelope shares, that he cannot resist participating in the scheme. O n the other hand, as the dutiful son he should protest the contest and persuade Penelope to postpone it, lest some suitor should be successful. Telemachos solves this new dilemma by resorting to a highly professional ruse. He plays the role of the young man whose mind has become unhinged. He giggles, and then, pretending embarrassment at this inap19 Penelope's decision to hold the contest of the bow is a form of divination, as Anne Amory, "The Reunion of Odysseus and Penelope," Essays on the Odyssey, ed. C. H. Taylor, Jr. (Bloomington, Ind., 1963) 100-121 points out, and is very close to divination by opposites, for she can only hope that if Odysseus does not appear something will intervene to prevent the contest.

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propriate reaction, attempts to be shocked at his behavior. " M y mother tells us that she will leave this house for a new marriage, and here I am, laughing and enjoying myself. What a witless idiot I am {fypovt. dvfiw, 21.105) .20 The only way to give any semblance of plausibility to his most implausible outburst of laughter is to act as if the idea of the test were a wonderfully absurd joke, and as if Penelope had no other intention in proposing it. This renders him harmless while permitting him the pleasure of directing the action. He practically auctions Penelope off the block: "You will not find her like anywhere else— not in Pylos, not in Argos, not in Mykenai, not even in Ithaka. So, up now, no delay; let's see you take your turns at the bow." With great vigor he sets about arranging the axes, and then gives himself the privilege of having the first try in the bride-contest, while assuring the suitors that they need not consider him serious competition. All this too active cooperation in selling off his mother is obviously the behavior of a slightly pathetic child who has no conception of the serious decisions which are being made by the adults in their eyries far above him. To the child the whole procedure is an amusing game. This is exactly the impression which Telemachos intends to give. Now that he has become an adult he can afford to play the silly child whom the suitors still consider him to be. It is an ingenious ploy, for it enables him to display his true feelings by disguising them as the motivations of an entirely contrary persona. This is Telemachos' most masterful disguise. It is important to note the effect which Telemachos' participation has on the action at this point. Since he is unaware that Odysseus has already encouraged Penelope to proceed with the test of the bow, when he jumps up to put Penelope's plan into action he is actually forcing Odysseus' hand. He must also be delighting in the alarm with which Penelope must be reacting to his cooperation. He is forcing her hand too by making her stand by her decision. The test of the bow can have only one result: Odysseus must emerge from his disguise. By encouraging Penelope in her plan, Telemachos has per20 W. B. Stanford in his edition of the Odyssey (London 1958) assumes, at 21.102ff, that Telemachos has inadvertently betrayed himself by his laugh and tries to pass off his amusement "as being inanely connected with Penelope's approaching departure." What Stanford does not sufficiently note is Telemachos' expert dexterity which allows him to assume a major role in precipitating the crisis while behaving in a most unfilial manner, and all this without creating any suspicion among the suitors.

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sonally chosen this to be the moment of peripety. The boy who had been keeping his eyes on his father for the signal has now given the signal to his father instead. This interpretation of Telemachos' behavior runs counter to that offered by Woodhouse. 21 For Woodhouse, Odysseus does not conceive of using the bow until he sees it in Telemachos' hand, and Telemachos begins to perceive Odysseus' scheme only when Odysseus signals to him to put down the bow. Woodhouse is forced to conclude that since Telemachos is still wating for the signal from Odysseus and can have no idea of what is to happen, he must be completely hysterical. This view does Telemachos little credit, for it supposes that he so forgets his education as to give way to panic at the one critical moment in the poem. It is, moreover, a disparaging commentary on the whole family, for it supposes that Penelope acts out of female foolishness, Telemachos out of hysteria and Odysseus out of desperation to salvage the unfortunate event begun by his thoughtless relatives. It suggests that the contest is really a monstrous accident which is rescued from catastrophe only by Odysseus' quick thinking. That the moment of vengeance should be the result of bungling and mere chance hardly squares with the development of the structure of the whole poem up to this point. It makes more sense, surely, to read this scene as the reunion of the family in the psychological sense. At this moment the three members of the family are, in Homer's vocabulary, "knowing the same thoughts." Proceeding from their separate perspectives, with separate motivations, and not yet fully conscious of the other's thoughts, the three think in such harmony that they produce a single act in unison. Penelope gives the challenge to Telemachos, or to both Telemachos and the beggar; Telemachos in turn gives the challenge to the beggar, and the beggar then steps into the part prepared for him by his family. With each thinking in isolation, the three come together in perfect unanimity. It is no accident that Telemachos, at the moment when he decides to precipitate the action which will reveal the man of disguises, should himself adopt the most artful of disguises. Nor can it be accident that the son of the level-headed, shrewd, discreet, intelligent Odysseus, at this moment of climax, should pay his tribute to his father's pedagogic skill by adopting as his disguise the polar opposite: the persona of a 21 Woodhouse (supra, n. 1) 112-115.

Telemachos Polymechanos

63

childish and hysterical idiot. No more appropriate irony could be found to mark Telemachos' coming-of-age in the house of Odysseus. Telemachos has become at last polymechanos. University of California Los Angeles

4

ROGER A. DE LAIX

Polybius' Credibility and the Triple Alliance of 230/229 B.C. i

For a number of years it has been customary to criticize Polybius for his obvious anti-Aetolian bias.1 The tendency to infer from this, however, that his factual information is consequently unreliable has recently—and to my mind successfully—been resisted by G. A. Lehmann.2 Nevertheless, no one to my knowledge has made an adequate attempt to defend the historical accuracy of Polybius 2.45 concerning the triple alliance between Aetolia, Sparta, and Macedon. This paper will present such a defense.3 The question of Polybius' honesty will not, however, be the only, or even the main, concern in what follows. Rather, I shall offer a new chronology for the events of 230/229 and 229/228, and within this new framework I shall interpret the diplomatic reasons for an alliance among such seemingly unlikely allies. Once a clear picture of the historical situation has emerged, 1 See in particular M. Klatt, Geschichte des Achäischen Bundes I (Berlin 1877) 40-45; J. V. A. Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 129-165; F. W. Walbank, A Historical Commentary on Polybius (Oxford 1957-1967) I, 12 and n. 5; P. Pédech, La Méthode historique de Polybe (Paris 1964) 154. 2 Untersuchungen zur historischen Glaubwürdigkeit des Polybios (Münster 1966). 3 I wish to thank Professor John V. A. Fine of Princeton University for first interesting me in this topic and for his patient counsel on this and countless other issues in Greek history. My debt to him, however, does not necessarily imply his agreement with my conclusions.

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Polybius' account of the facts (though not necessarily his view of the Aetolians' rapacious motives) will find justification. The historicity of the triple alliance was first called into question by M. Klatt in 1877. His arguments were later expanded by John V. A. Fine in 1940. The cumulative effect of this criticism may be seen in F. W. Walbank's Commentary.4 Polybius' account of this alliance runs as follows : ' OXoGxepearépas Sè yevofievr/s av£-qoea)s Sia ravra /cai irpoKotrrjs irepì rò eOvos, ALTOJXOI Sià TT]V ép.VT0V àSiKiav /cai •nXeove^lav 6oìrqaavres, rò Sè nXelov èXirlcravres KaraSteXécr6at ràs noXeis, KaOdnep Kaì irpórepov ràs (lèv ' Axapvavajv Sieveifxavro npòs 'A\é£av8pov, ràs Sè rà>v 'Additòv è-nefìaXovro •npòs 'Avrlyovov ròv l~bvarai/, /cai róre •napairXrjalais ¿Xmaiv ¿•napOévres, à-neróXp/qaav 'Avriyóvw re ra» /car' iicelvovs rovs Kaipovs •npoeariàri Ma/ceSóvaiv, ¿mrpo-nevovri Sè iXimrov •naiSòs óvros, /cai KXeofiévei rcò fìaoiXet AaKeSaifiovlcov Koivwveìv, /cai av/XTrXeKeiv ¿¡jL(f>orépois àfia ràs ^eipas. ¿ptòvres yàp ròv 'Avrlyovov, Kvpievovra /xèv rcùv /cara Ma/ceSovlav àaaXws, ófioXoyovfievov Sè /cai irpó8r)Xov è^Bpov ovra rwv 'A)(cu(òv Sia rò ròv * AxpoKopivdov irpagi^Komqoccvras KaraXa^Zv}, vrréXafiov, el rovs AaKeSm/iovlovs npoaXafiavres eri Koivcwovs affilai rfjs imfioXfjs irpoe/xpi^daMev els TTJV •npòs rò edvos àiréxdeiav, paSlws av Karaycjvlaaadai rovs 'A^aiovs èv Kaipu> avveTTiOefjievoi /cai 7ravra^óBev •nepiortfoavres avrots ròv nóXefiov. Besides the obvious question of Polybius' caustic rhetoric, the following objections to the belief in this alliance have been raised: 1. In Polybius 9.30.3-4 the Aetolian envoy Chlaineas, addressing the Spartans in late spring 210/209, fails to refer to an alliance between Cleomenes and the Aetolians when to do so would have been diplomatically advantageous. 5 2. The Megalopolitan envoys dispatched by Aratus to Antigonus Doson in fall 227/226 were sent to anticipate the Aetolians' plan for an alliance and spoke only of the possibility of a coalition be4 Klatt, 40-45; Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 129-165; Walbank, Commentary I, 239. 5 Klatt, 41. For the date see Walbank, Commentary II, 13, 169.

Polybius' Credibility and the Triple Alliance

67

tween Aetolia and Sparta, not of a triple alliance that had already been concluded (Polyb. 2.47.4ff). 3. If there had been such an alliance, Cleomenes for diplomatic reasons would not have spoken ill of the Aetolians at the time of his coup d'état in autumn 227/226 (Plut. Cleom. 10.6).7 4. If there had been an alliance between the Aetolians and Sparta, Aratus would not have asked them for help in winter 225/224 (Plut. Arat. 41.2). 8 5. Had Macedon been party to such a triple alliance, Aratus would not have sought aid from Doson in 227/226 (Polyb. 2.47-49) .9 6. If there were an alliance between Aetolia and Macedon, the Aetolians would not have interfered with the Macedonian forces coming to aid the Achaeans in 225/224 (Polyb. 2.52.8). 10 7. It is illogical to believe that the Aetolians would have made an alliance with Doson at a time (winter 228/227) when he had just wrested Thessaliotis and Hestiaeotis from their control. 11 The cumulative effect of these objections seems at first glance to be decisive, and there is perhaps small wonder that scholars have put so little faith in Polybius' statements. Still, on closer examination, it can be seen that only two of these seven points are based on substantial grounds. Objection 1 means little when the context of Polybius 9.30.3-4 is examined. One must take into account that the passage is intentionally rhetorical. The Aetolian envoy, Chlaineas, is recounting « Klatt, 41-42; Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 134. For the fullest discussion of the, date of this embassy see Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 137ff, who argues convincingly for fall 227/226, contra Walbank, Aratos of Sicyon (Cambridge 1933) 74ff, 190ÌT; A. Ferrabino, II Problema dell'Unità Nazionale nella Grecia Antica I : Aralo di Sidone e l'Idea Nazionale (Firenze 1921) 68-77, 255-267, 295; S. Dow and C. F. Edson, Jr., Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 48 (1937) 179, n. 1. 7 Klatt, 4 1 ^ 2 ; Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 134. For the date of Cleomenes' revolution see K. J. Beloch, Griechische Geschichte (Strassburg, Berlin, and Leipzig 1912-1927) IV, 1, 702; W. W. Tarn, CAH VII, 754; Walbank, Philip V of Macedon (Cambridge 1940) 14. 8 Klatt, 41; Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 134. Also see A. E. Freeman, History of Federal Government in Greece and Italy, 2nd ed. (New York 1893) 341. For the date see Tarn, CAH VII, 758; Walbank, Aratos, 98. » Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 134. For the date see supra, n. 6. 10 Klatt, 41. 11 Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 134. For a full discussion of Macedon's holdings in Thessaly at this time see Fine, TAPA 63 (1932) 126-155; P. Treves, Athenaeum 12 (1934) 397ff; R. Flacelière, Les Aitoliens à Delphes (Paris 1937) 253ff.

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for propagandist^ purposes the chief benefits conferred upon Greece by the Aetolians. Among these benefits is mentioned the aid rendered the Spartans in 219 during the Social War. However, this list of benefits is not meant to be exhaustive, and there seems to be no reason why the speaker should have gone out of his way to mention the less flattering incident of the triple alliance which, in fact, had not involved the commitment of any Aetolian arms to the Spartan cause. The argumentum ex silentio that Klatt bases on this passage is therefore inadequate. Objection 2 concerning the embassy of the Megalopolitan envoys might be convincing if it had any real basis in the text of Polybius. In fact, it does not. Polybius 2.47.4—5 merely states that irpoopdifievos "Aparos

TO

fiéXXov, Kai SeSiàis Trpi re

TCÜV AITCUXWV

ànóvoiav

Kai

róXfiav,

This does not mean that as yet no alliance had been formed ; the sentence implies nothing against the existence of an alliance.12 One should translate the words €Kpiv€ 7rpò voXXov Xvfialveadai rrjv ¿mßoXrjv airratv to mean "he decided to spoil their plan well in advance." The ¿mßoXrj in question here is that of the Aetolians to enter actively the Cleomenic War, in which, up till now, they had remained silent partners of the Spartans. As it turned out, Aratus' action succeeded in forestalling the Aetolians' plan just as he intended. When Aratus' overtures to Doson brought Macedon into the war, the Aetolians decided to remain virtual noncombatants.13 That this is the correct interpretation of this sentence may be seen from the further statement in this section that Aratus ¿neßaXero XaXeZv npòs

eKpive TTpò TTOXXOV

XvfialveaÖai

TÒV elpr)[j.èvov ßaaiXea

rr/v ¿irißoXrjv avruiv.

Kai ovfivXeKeiv

ras

\eipas,

vnoSeiKvvcov

avrcxt TO

¿K TCÜV TTpay¡xariov. This can only mean that Aratus intended to have the Megalopolitan envoys point out to Doson what would

crup.ßt]a0p.evov

12 The understanding of the passage given by Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 134 is that the Aetolians had yet made no approach to Doson. !3 Klatt, 41 comments as follows on the military inactivity of the Aetolians (Polyb. 2.49.7): "Nirgend treten die Aetoler activ auf; im Gegenteil wird ausdrücklich anerkannt, dass sie „bisher"—bis zur Zeit der Unterhandlungen der megalopolitanischen Gesandtschaft, nach der Schlacht bei Megalopolis—neutral gewesen." His inference, however, that inaction in the military sphere reflects technical neutrality need not be accepted. Among the many scholars accepting the Aetolian-Spartan alliance, one may cite Freeman (supra, n. 8) 340-341; E. Reuss, NJbb 107 (1873) 591; Beloch (supra, n. 7) IV, 1, 697; Tarn, CAH VII, 753; M. Holleaux, REG 43 (1930) 251 ; Walbank, Aratos, 72-73; M. Feyel, Polybe et l'histoire de Béotie au III' stiele avant notre ère (Paris 1942) 108; E. Bikerman, REG 56 (1943) 301; Pédech (supra, n. 1) 158, n. 303; Lehmann (supra, n. 2) 340-341. B. Niese, Geschichte der griechischen und makedonischen Staaten seit der Schlacht bei Chaeronea (Gotha 1893-1903) II, 307, 321 admits the Aetolians' compliance with Cleomenes' actions, but is puzzled by it.

Polybius' Credibility and the Triple Alliance

69

happen if the present state of affairs persisted, i.e., if the Aetolians continued to prepare to enter the war on Sparta's side. The full meaning of this passage is clear from Polybius 2.49.1-2 where the exact charge given the envoys is spelled out : avrai 8' RJAAV vnoSeiKvuvai rrjv ALTCDXÒÌV KalKXeo^iévovs Koivoirpaylav ri Swarai /cai TTOL relvei, /cai 8t]Xovv on TrpaiTois fikv avrots

'Amatols evXafirjreov, é£r}s 8è /cai n&XXov 'Avriyovqt.

Here,

moreover, the use of the present indicatives Swarai and relvet shows that Aratus had in mind the ramifications of an existing Kotvonpayla between Sparta and Aetolia. The passage reveals that an alliance was in existence between these two states, but, unfortunately, it tells us nothing of Macedon's status relative to the alliance. One should be wary, however, of seeing the absence of an explicit reference to Macedon as a member of a triple alliance as " a n indication that this alliance never really existed." 14 There is, as we shall see, definite reason to believe that Macedon was in fact no longer an active party to the alliance ; but even if she had been, it would still have been good diplomacy for Aratus' envoys to refrain from mentioning the fact. Thus, the passage reflects accurately the existence of an Aetolian-Spartan alliance at this time and does nothing to disprove Macedon's role in a previously formed triple entente. With this in mind, one can understand the situation indic a t e d b y Polybius 2.47.7—8: irpo8rfXa>s (lèv ovv avrò vparreiv ijyelro Sta nXeiovs ama?. ròv re yàp KXeop,evTj /cai TOVS AITWXOVS

¿ovfujiopov àvrayoìvi-

aràs 7rapapaS ¿myevo^vqs) in 230/229-229/228. This phrase tt)v

'IXXvplSa

'Pcojjiaiuiv).

22 Antigonus Gonatas died in 240/239, forty-four years after the death of his father Demetrius Poliorcetes (see Beloch, IV, 2, 112). The first year of Demetrius II's reign thus began in 240/239, and the tenth year ended in 230/229. If his rule had extended into 229/228, it would have been in its eleventh year. The contrary argument of Pidech (supra, n. 1) 492-493 that Polyb. 2.2.1 synchronizes the Roman expedition with the death of Hamilcar in autumn or winter 229/228 lacks any real textual basis and is rejected by Walbank, Commentary II, 633-634. 23 This is so since Plut. Arat. 35 implies that the negotiations carried on with Aristomachus took place about this same time, certainly before Aratus was again strategos, and thus during Lydiades' strategia (230/229). 2* Dow and Edson (supra, n. 6) 106 date Demetrius' death to April, not wishing to strain the synchronism with the Roman expedition further than is necessary. Holleaux, REG 43 (1930) 254-258 and Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 143 prefer February or March 230/229. P&lech, 4 9 2 ^ 9 3 places Demetrius' death in 229/228, arguing that Aristomachus' negotiations with the Achaean League began during Lydiades' strategia before Demetrius' death and ended during Aratus' strategia after Demetrius' death. He states that Polyb. 2.60.4 indicates only that the final negotiations for Argos' entrance into the league took place after Demetrius' death. This argument, however, is tenuous at best and, in fact, is untenable in the face of Plut. Arat. 34.4, 35.

Polybius' Credibility and the Triple Alliance

73

probably refers to the return of spring weather in early March; 2 5 though, again, one should not consider Polybius' statement to reflect an exact date. At this point we may postulate the following sequence of events : Death of Demetrius Aratus frees Athens Battle of Paxos Roman expedition

Winter 230/229 Winter Early spring Late spring or early summer 229/228

With this chronological framework in mind, we may now return to a discussion of Walbank's two arguments for the date of the Polybian triple alliance. First, the date at which Argos, Hermione, and Phlius entered the Achaean League (a terminus post quem for the alliance) must be decided. The currently accepted date for the entrance of Argos is some time in the year 229/228. The primary evidence comes from Plutarch, Aratus 35.1-3. Here one reads that, at the time when Aristomachus finally succumbed to Aratus' entreaties, Lydiades was strategos. This was the year running from late May 230 to late May 229. 26 Aratus, however, for political purposes intervened in the negotiations now taking place between Aristomachus and Lydiades and sought to deprive Lydiades of the credit he would gain if Aristomachus enrolled Argos in the league during Lydiades' year of office. The matter now came up for debate in the Achaean boule. Aristomachus' application was at first, on Aratus' design, rejected. But then, says Plutarch, ¿vel Se crvfiireiadels irapœv,

navra

'Apyeiovs 'ApiarSfiaxov

rayeais

nâXiv

["Aparos]

Kal 7rpodvfiœs

Kal v ¿Xafiftavc 8vva[us. This passage indicates that there was no long interruption of the Dardanian campaign after Demetrius' death. T h e •npoaoUovs Kai ¿¡lôpovs iroAc/touj must be the struggles against the Dardanians, and since at the time the Aetolians and Achaeans were still allies, the date for at least part of these struggles must be before the battle of Paxos. (See infra where I postulate more than one Dardanian campaign.) The inference from Trogus Prol. 28 that Demetrius was killed during the Dardanian War (see Pédech [supra, n. 1] 493, n. 338 contra Walbank, Commentary I, 238) is perfectly consonant with this interpretation. There is no necessity, however, to accept Pédech's further argument, based on Polyb. 4.66.1-7; Livy 27.33.1, 33.19.1, that "les invasions dardaniennes se produisaient d'habitude quand l'été était déjà avancé" (my italics). In the first instance, Polyb. 4.66.1 tells us that the Dardanians were merely taking advantage of the anticipated absence of Philip V on a Peloponnesian campaign. In the second instance, Philip came down into Greece in the summer (Livy 27.29.30) and became preoccupied with the Nemean Games and the Aetolian W a r ; the Dardanians again took the opportunity to attack. In the last instance, Philip's involvement in the battle of Cynoscephalae and the subsequent peace negotiations at Tempe opened the northern frontier to attack. In each case, it was not the time of year that occasioned the Dardanian invasion, but the absence of Philip from Macedon. A similar situation prevailed in winter 230/229. 34 T o argue that the word àtnfiaXws must refer to Doson as pam\eàs would, however, be wrongheaded. Dow and Edson, 103AT have shown convincingly that he did not assume the royal title until 227/226. Also see Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 143.

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Roger A. de Laix

quem of early spring 230/229, at the latest just before the battle of Paxos. hi

We have now reached the point at which the direct evidence for dating the formation of the triple alliance before summer 229/228 may be set forth. Principally there is the evidence of Polybius 2.45.4. This passage indicates that when the alliance was formed, the Spartans were not yet acting inimically toward the Achaeans; for it is explicit here that the Aetolians were just now planning to foster a state of enmity between them. This would date the alliance before summer 229/228, since it was in this summer that Cleomenes took Tegea, Mantinea, and Orchomenus—an act which, according to Polybius, made Cleomenes a formidable antagonist of the Achaeans. 35 True, war between Achaea and Sparta was not actually declared until Aristomachus' strategia in 228/227. 36 However, we are only seeking the date when the Spartans' carexOeia toward the Achaeans was first shown, and it was certainly made clear by the extension of Lacedaemonian power into Arcadia. Another indication of a terminus ante quem for the triple alliance may be found in Polybius 2.45.5. Here one reads that the Aetolians never counted on having Aratus as the adversary to their plans. This may be more than mere Polybian rhetoric; indeed, it may well indicate that, at the time when the alliance was planned, Aratus had not yet been elected strategos for 229/228. The Aetolians might in fact have had good reason to be uncertain about who would be the next Achaean commander. Aratus was caught up in a bitter political struggle with Lydiades, and it is quite possible that Aristomachus, having joined Argos to the league, was himself demanding immediate election to the 35 Polyb. 2.46.3-4. Fine, AjfP 61 (1940) 135, n. 25 dates Cleomenes* Arcadian campaign to at the latest early summer 229/228. 36 Treves, Athenaeum 12 (1934) 24-25; Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 137. 37 An analogy might be drawn to the strategia of Lydiades in 234/233, which fell in the year immediately after Megalopolis entered the league. Aristomachus could have demanded similar consideration. This, in fact, may be the real reason why Aratus attempted to block Aristomachus' offer to join Argos to the league. The situation, however, is still confusing. Since Aratus won the election, it appears likely that some accommodation was worked out between the three politicians. It may be that an agreement was reached prior to the entrance of Argos into the league. If so, either (1) my interpretation of Polyb. 2.45.5 is wrong, (2) Argos actually entered the league after the triple alliance was formed (hence Polyb. 2.44.6 is incorrect), or (3) the Aetolians were unaware of any secret settlement between Lydiades,

Polybius' Credibility and the Triple Alliance

77

strategia as a quid pro quo. Following this line of reasoning, then, this passage offers a terminus ante quem for the triple alliance set by the date of the Achaean elections some time between late February and mid-May 230/229.3» On the basis of this analysis, we can say with conviction that the formation of the triple alliance, pretended or real, must be dated to a time after the entrance of Argos into the Achaean League in early or mid-spring 230/229 and after the battle of Paxos in the same spring, and to a time before Cleomenes' Arcadian campaign in late spring or early summer 229/228. Also the probability is that it should be placed before the Achaean elections held most likely in mid-May. Consequently our chronology of events may be further expanded as follows: 37

Death of Demetrius Aratus frees Athens Hermione joins Achaean League Aratus and Lydiades feud over entrance of Argos into Achaean League Doson repells Dardanians Argos enters Achaean League Battle of Paxos Triple alliance formed Achaean elections Roman expedition Cleomenes' Arcadian campaign

Winter 230/229 Winter Winter Late winter to mid-spring

Early spring Early or mid-spring Early spring Mid-spring Mid-spring Late spring or early summer 229/228 Summer

Aratus, and Aristomachus, and even after the entrance of Argos into the Achaean League were unsure who the next strategos would be. T h e last explanation has the virtue of plausibility as well as that of maintaining the integrity of our sources. O n the other hand, it seems more likely that Aristomachus' demands were only made after Argos had entered the league— to make them earlier would surely have exacerbated Aratus' opposition. In this case, the political feuding between the three politicians would have become more bitter as the elections approached, and the Aetolians' confusion would have been entirely appropriate. As for the date at which Argos was enrolled in the league, one may speculate that it preceded the battle of Paxos since after this defeat Aristomachus would probably have been less willing to join a faltering Achaean League. Any real proof for this view, however, is lacking. 38 T h e probability is that the elections were actually held at the latest possible time in this year, near May 15, since the bitter political feuding of the Achaean leaders likely continued to the last possible moment.

78

Roger A. de Laix IV

With the date of the triple alliance mentioned in Polybius 2.45 fixed in our chronology to mid-spring 230/229, the objections to its inception at a later date become irrelevant. However, there still remains the question of its historicity and Polybius' credibility. Since the original reasons for rejecting the alliance arose out of concern over the biased intonation of this particular passage in Polybius' work, it seems appropriate to see whether our author does not offer further evidence for the alliance phrased in less rhetorical language or given inadvertently and thus in no way resulting from deceitful invention. If such evidence does exist and does prove convincing, it should exonerate Polybius from the charge that he fabricated the alliance out of whole cloth. Of course, the critic may then look one step beyond and impugn the 39 Urquell, in this case the 'YTrop.vrip.aTa of Aratus. In that event, the only answer (since no other ancient authorities are available) is to offer a reasoned defense for the historical situation described by Polybius. The onus, then, will fall on those who wish to deny Polybius' accuracy, not on those who elect to defend it. Fortunately Polybius 2.46.1-5 offers evidence of the requisite kind. Here one reads how Cleomenes "took the Aetolians by surprise" (TreTrpagiKOTrrjKoros avrovs) and seized control of their dependencies Tegea, Mantinea, and Orchomenus. The Aetolians approved Cleomenes' action and eKovaiws irapaanovSovpevovs xcci ras ¡ityiaTas cwroAAiWay nSXeis e8e\ovrr/v e' a> p.6vov ISeZv a£i6xpea>v yevop.evov AVRAYOJVIOTRJV KXeopew) TOZS M^atot?. Polybius' intention here is to make it seem that the Achaeans were completely surprised by Cleomenes' action. This was undoubtedly the view expressed by Aratus, since, if he had claimed to know of an alliance between Sparta and Aetolia at this point, he as strategos, would have been open to blame for not forestalling Cleomenes' action. In truth, he probably was ignorant of any alliance and was surprised. Still, Polybius (or his source, Aratus) had hindsight and knew after the fact that an alliance between Aetolia and Sparta had been made prior to Cleomenes' Arcadian campaign. This hindsight intrudes itself into Polybius' account. One must note that the Aetolians are inadvertently called vapaanovSovfievovs. This word has its precise meaning only if the Aetolians and Spartans were previously 39 There is no space here to enter upon a full discussion of Polybius' sources. For some recent comment see Walbank, Commentary I, 248 and Pedech (supra, n. 1) 156, n. 288.

Polybius' Credibility and the Triple Alliance

79

Polybius, by his choice of words, therefore, contradicts the ignorance of any such alliance claimed by Aratus and, by a slip of the tongue, confirms his own belief in a Spartan-AetoUan alliance which existed prior to Cleomenes' Arcadian campaign. The historical fact, we must conclude, is that there was some sort of agreement between the Aetolians and Cleomenes, one feature of which was the cession of these Arcadian cities.40 That Cleomenes still had to use force to capture these towns can scarcely be doubted given the Arcadians' long-standing dislike for the Lacedaemonians. Turning next to the question of further evidence for the inclusion of Macedon in the triple alliance, it must be admitted that a careful study of the sources turns up nothing beyond the statements in Polybius 2.45. Still, a number of scholars have recorded their belief in an alliance between Aetolia and Macedon; 41 and, indeed, since Polybius' statement concerning the alliance between Aetolia and Sparta seems to be vindicated, it would appear perverse to hold that the inclusion of Macedon in the entente is, in contrast, an outright falsehood. The fact is that several cogent arguments may be advanced indicating the gains that both Aetolia and Macedon might have expected from such an alliance. Already we have seen that at the time of the alliance Doson was ruling acra\G>s in Macedon, and it has been pointed out that this description might refer to a time after he became entTpoiros or to a time only after the Dardanians had been repelled. The latter alternative admits a logical explanation. Doson may have fought more than one campaign in the north; Plutarch, Aratus 34.5, speaks of npoaoiKovs teal ¿fiopovs iroXefiovs. At the same time, according to Justin 28.3, Thessaly was also in revolt. It may be, then, that Doson, after having driven back a Dardanian attack in the early spring, returned south only to find that the Aetolians had capitalized on the revolt in Thessaly to take control evovovSoi.

40 See supra, n. 13 for a reference to other scholars who have reached this same conclusion. 41 Beloch (supra, n. 7) IV, 1, 638 and n. 1; IV, 2, 414, 637 believes in the alliance and maintains that Doson gave up control of Achaea Phthiotis, Thessaliotis, and Hestiaeotis to obtain Aetolian friendship and to keep Pelasgiotis safe for Macedon. Also see Niese (supra, n. 13) II, 324ff; Walbank, Aratos, 68; Fine, TAP A 63 (1932) 133ff (who speaks of Doson's cession of Thessalian areas, but not of an alliance); Bikerman, REG 56 (1943) 301, n. 1; Holleaux, REG 43 (1930) 253. Klatt (supra, n. 1) 42 admits that there was an attempt to reach an agreement; Feyel (supra, n. 13) 108 denies even an attempt. Walbank, Philip V, 11 and Porter (supra, n. 27) lvii, n. 23 accept an alliance, but would date it after Doson reconquered most of Thessaly.

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of Achaea Phthiotis, Thessaliotis, and Hestiaeotis. The situation in midspring 230/229 might then have been close to what Fine has supposed. In his words, "It seems likely that the Aetolians, with whom Demetrius had been at war, supported the Thessalians in their revolt, and Doson, to secure matters in his rear so that he could face the Dardanians unhampered, ceded the Aetolians the three districts mentioned above." 42 I differ with this view only in holding that Doson must already have begun his war with the Dardanians when this agreement with the Aetolians was reached. Perhaps after one campaign against them, he realized that some temporary solution of the Thessalian problem must be reached before he could turn his full attention to the problem of the northern frontier. After the first campaign against the Dardanians, he would have been ruling ao(f>a\ws in Macedon, but he may have thought that a second campaign was needed during the summer to destroy any threat of another invasion. Certainly it was not until 228/227 that he was able to turn his attention to the reconquest of Thessaly.43 This fact alone speaks for more than one Dardanian campaign. It is quite likely, then, that Doson reached some form of agreement with the Aetolians in mid-spring 230/229. It takes little effort to see this as part of the triple alliance mentioned by Polybius. The final decision based on the evidence I have presented indicates that the triple alliance mentioned in Polybius 2.45 has real substance and is no mere propagandistic creation. Polybius' credibility in this instance is at least partially vindicated, though, of course, there is no need to accept his (or Aratus') concept of the motivation behind the alliance. In fact, one may readily imagine a number of valid reasons not mentioned by Polybius for the formation of such an alliance at this time. Polybius states unequivocally that the Aetolians were the sole instigators. This, however, can only be true in the sense that they probably made the initial overtures. Naturally both Cleomenes and Doson were quick to realize that they too stood to benefit from such a symmachia. Nor did the Aetolians' action stem strictly from rapacity as our historian claims. Rather their motive must have grown out of the precarious position in which they now found themselves. Their alliance with Achaea had just been shattered for all practical purposes by the defeat at Paxos, and the two leagues could now see little to be gained by further cooperation. The Achaeans, having just lost half their fleet, in 42 TAPA 63 (1932) 134. 43 See supra, n. 32.

Polybius' Credibility and the Triple Alliance

81

reaction turned away from this entangling foreign alliance. Moreover, the old causes of Achaean bitterness toward the Aetolians were still there: the Achaeans must still have hoped eventually to regain Calydon and Naupactus, 44 and they certainly did not intend to remain content with the Aetolian domination of Elis and parts of Arcadia. 45 Also, the attentions of the Aetolians were now turned to the impending invasion by Teuta's Illyrians, the allies of Macedon. 4 6 Lastly, the fresh revolt in Thessaly offered a perfect opportunity for aggrandizement in central Greece. The moment, for the Aetolians, was pregnant with dangers and with possibilities. The result was an alliance with Sparta and Macedon. Through an alliance with Sparta, the Aetolians could transfer to a friendly power the Arcadian cities which they could not hold in the face of a hostile and rapidly expanding Achaean League. After the entrance of Phlius, Hermione, Argos and in the words of Plutarch, Arat. 34.5, 17 re IRXELOTI) TT}S 'ApitaSias into the Achaean League, the chances of any future Aetolian control in the central Peloponnesus must have seemed doomed to failure. By an alliance, however, 44 For the early Achaean interests beyond the Corinthian Gulf see Xen. Hell. 4.6.1-14; Demos. 9.34. In 245/244 they made an expedition against Calydon, perhaps in an attempt to regain the area (Plut. Arat. 16.1). If so, the attempt failed, and the Aetolian-Achaean alliance (239-230) prevented any renewal of such activities. 45 According to Justin 26.1, the Aetolians became involved in Glean affairs when the tyrant Aristotimus was overthrown. The date was around 271 B.C. Niese, II, 229 is of the opinion that Elis did not actually enter the Aetolian League, but that it became merely an Aetolian ally. The Aetolian interests in Arcadia, on the other hand, probably date from the time of the Aetolian-Achaean alliance (239-230). The cities of Tegea, Orchomenus, and Mantinea were first members of the Achaean League, but the latter two seem to have been added to the Aetolian League in or after 234, perhaps in compensation for Aetolian losses in central Greece (see Walbank, Commentary I, 242). The view of Treves, Athenaeum 12 (1934) 409—411 that Doson advised the Aetolians to cede these cities to Cleomenes is rejected by Fine, AJP 61 (1940) 135, n. 25. However, Treves' observation that Ditt. Syll.3, 501, which records a grant of isopoliteia by the Tegeans to one Agesandros of Pelasgiotis (an area controlled by Macedon), may reflect the existence of an alliance between Macedon and the state controlling Tegea (i.e., either Aetolia or Sparta) is still worthy of note. The inscription has been dated to 229/228, but unfortunately the date is not certain. Moreover, even if one makes the necessary chronological adjustments, Fine's criticism of this inscription as prima facie evidence remains compelling. In general, it is difficult to believe with Treves that Doson would have taken the initiative in stirring up the Aetolians and Cleomenes against the Achaean League. He may have backed this policy once it took form, but he was too busy elsewhere to instigate such diplomacy. 46 In 231/230 Demetrius II had hired the Illyrians to aid the Acarnanians in their war against the Aetolians (Polyb. 2.2.5; see Walbank, Commentary I, 154). In 230/229 an alliance was struck between the Illyrians, Epirots, and Acarnanians to carry on the war against the Aetolians and Achaeans (Polyb. 2.6.9-10; see Walbank, Commentary I, 158).

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the Aetolians might raise Cleomenes as a barrier to the realization of Aratus' ambitions, and war between Sparta and Achaea would keep the Achaeans too busy to plan any new raids across the Corinthian Gulf. As for an alliance with Doson, the advantages were obvious. The Aetolians had undoubtedly done all in their power to raise Thessaly in revolt upon the death of Demetrius and may already have taken control of a good part of the area. Doson had every reason to fear that they might seek even more. In return for their pledge to take no more land while he dealt with the Dardanians, they could request his formal cession of the areas now under their control; and, what is more, they might receive Doson's promise to intercede with the Illyrians or at least his pledge not to aid them in their designs for conquest. On the Spartan side, too, there were obvious benefits to be gained from such a triple alliance: At this time, Cleomenes was ready to set out upon a new militaristic policy designed to refound the old Peloponnesian League; moreover, he realized that in order to carry through a program of social reform at home, a strong showing in the military sphere would be of great advantage. The conservative ephors were opposed to his plans; however, an alliance with Aetolia and Macedon might well undermine their objections.47 The Aetolian cession—for it amounted to that—of Mantinea, Tegea, and Orchomenus could not be refused; while the potential friendship of Macedon would leave only the Achaeans to resist Lacedaemonian expansion in the Peloponnesus.48 Finally, as we have already seen, the triple alliance also offered at least certain temporary benefits to the Macedonians. By ceding parts of Thessaly, which in any case were probably already firmly in Aetolian hands, Doson could buy time for his Dardanian war. Once the northern frontier was secure, he could easily renounce the treaty and regain Thessaly by force. Or, on the other hand, he may for the moment have been thinking of the potential long-range advantages 47 Plut. Cleom. 3.4 states that Cleomenes oio'/xcvot 8' av ev iroXtiup /taAAov rj ¡ear tipyvr)v fMrewrriJotai ra rrapovra, avvtKpovoe irpos TOVS 'Axaiovs ri)v irohv, avrovs 81801TCK iyK\t)fiaTiov irpotfiaafis. Plut. Cleom. 4.1 goes on to say that the ephors began the campaign by sending Cleomenes to occupy Athenaion; however, he avoids mentioning the occupation of Orchomenus, Tegea, Mantinea, and Caphyea {Cleom. 4.4), since it clearly marks Cleomenes as the aggressor in the Social War. Still, it must have been Cleomenes' success in occupying these cities that won the ephors over to his side. 48 The novelty of this situation becomes even more striking when one realizes that heretofore Sparta and Achaea had been at peace with each other for 188 years, since the year 417 when the Spartans had invaded Achaea (Thuc. 5.82.1).

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of such an alliance. Perhaps he underestimated the ambition of Cleomenes and thought that a working agreement might be formed similar to that between Antigonus Gonatas and the Aetolian League, which would allow him, with Aetolian and Spartan aid, to dismember the Achaean League and regain Macedon's former dependencies in the Peloponnesus.49 The redating the triple alliance to mid-spring 230/229 makes it clear that this alliance offered important advantages to each of the three states involved. Each state saw the expediency of temporary cooperation, though if any long-term advantages were imagined, they certainly proved illusory. The alliance soon proved unworkable and de facto ceased to exist when Doson began the reconquest of Thessaly in 228/227. And finally, for students of ancient historiography, the renewed belief in the historicity of this alliance offers assurance that Polybius, whatever his biases—and they were many—did not attempt to alter the facts of history, as he was able to discern them, or to create new facts to take their places. University of California San Diego

4 9 Polyb. 2.43.10 states specifically that the purpose of the alliance was vnip Siaiptoctos rov ruiv 'Ajfmiuv iOvavs. There were undoubtedly other purposes, but this particular one would have appeared the most important to a pro-Achaean like Polybius.

5

EDWIN DOLIN

Prometheus Psellistes

Prometheus finishes part of his description of Io's coming journey with a puzzling injunction (815f): TcbvS' el ri aoi ijieXXov re Kcd 8vaevperov ¿navSinXa^e /cat acuf>(Os ¿Kfiavdave. Two words here require discussion. If we follow the scholiast, their interpretation appears simple: ij/eXXov: aarifiov ¿TTav8iir\a£e: ¿navepdtTcc

obscure ask again

The correct translation, then, according to the scholiast, is one similar to that of H. W. Smyth (italics mine): If aught of this is indistinct to thee and hard to understand, do thou question me yet again, and gain a clear account. 1 However, there are difficulties as soon as one attempts to verify this translation. The verb eirav8nr\a£ci} occurs only here. No example of the shorter form avaSmXa^co, which would have provided evidence for the use of the longer form, occurs. The simplex, 8ivAa£co, appears to have nothing to do with asking questions, whether once or l Aeschylus, trans, by H. W. Smyth (in Loeb Classical Library).

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Edwin Dolin

repeatedly. This is true also of the near synonym SmXaaiâ^u). In short, neither S«rAa£a>, SnrXaaicc^a) nor 8nrX6co nor any of their compounds in ¿va and èrrava. occurs anywhere in the sense "ask again," with the exception of the supposed instance in the Prometheus. Consequently, we may assume that the scholiast had here, as often elsewhere, nothing to go on besides the immediate context. He supposed from this that eiravSiirXa^e ought to mean inavepaira. But a different conclusion is quite possible. The verb SnrXôœ, a near synonym of SivXtxÇœ, occurs in Aristotle with the enava prefix in the sense "repeat, duplicate." 2 The use of ¿TravceSinXow in this sense indicates that not the scholiast and those who follow him, but Headlam and Mazon were correct in their treatment of eiravhiirXct^e (italics mine) : Herein if there be aught obscure and hard to understand, you may repeat again and learn it clearly.3 Si quelque point te reste trouble, embarrassant, reprends-le, instruis-toi avec précision.4 Thus Prometheus is not urging Io to ask questions, but rather to repeat portions of what she has just heard, those portions which were "obscure." But "obscure" is again the scholiast's interpretation and may not be correct. In fact, the adjective vcrS. ¡xevos KpoT ¿p^rjyerov 18 Timotheos 10 Bergk ap. Plut. Ages. 14; Menander, fr. 189 Koerte; Macar. 2.3.9. For Poseidon as Halos Tyrannos see Anth. Pal. 6.90.7 (Philip of Thessalonika). Significantly Tereus and Pyreneus belong to the tradition of Thracians at Daulis; this tradition accounts for the brigand Daulis' barbarian army; see J. Fontenrose, "The Sorrows of Ino and of Procne," TAP A 79 (1948) 156-157 with n. 80. 1» Ephoros J70.141 ap. Strab. 6.1.15, p. 265. See Hyg. Fab. 186; Steph. Byz. 448 Mein.; Pyrros 251. Before the Daulis text became known, the form "Daulis" appeared only as a feminine personal name, that of the nymph Daulis, daughter of Kephisos, according to Paus. 10.4.7; she was also eponym of the city. 20 Phokos Poseidon's son: Schol. A on Iliad 2.517. See also Asios ap. Paus. 2.29.4, Schol. vet. on Eur. Or. 33 and on Lyk. 53; Tzetzes on Lyk. 939. 21 Demetrios of Ilion J59 ap. Eust. Od. 11.538, p. 1696; Ptol. Heph. 3 ap. Phot. Bibl. 190, p. 148 Bekk.; Pyrros 232-233, 248.

116

Joseph Fontenrose

8è yjpco TOVTOV 3KVS M^iAAeus', the difference of adjective being due only to the difference in length of the modified nouns. Diodoros tells us that Xanthos and his yoke-fellow Balios were originally Titans who helped Zeus in the Titanomachy; wishing to be transformed, they were changed into horses, which Poseidon gave to Chiron and Chiron to Peleus at his wedding with Thetis. 2 7 When Phocians called the hero of Tronis " X a n t h i p p o s , " did they identify him with a legendary hero? We find an Aetolian Xanthippos, son of Melas (Black), and an Epidaurian Xanthippos, son of Deiphontes. The latter may be dismissed as no more than a name in the Greek legend of Deiphontes and Hyrnetho (Paus. 2.28.6). The name of the Aetolian's father at once arrests our attention: here is a Fair-Horse who is son of Black. Tydeus killed Xanthippos and his brothers, the eight sons of Melas, because they were plotting against King Oineus, Tydeus' father and Melas' brother. According to the Alkmaionis (ap. Apollod. 1.8.5), this was the reason why Tydeus was banished from Aitolia: Agrios, brother of Melas and Oineus, brought action against him, and so Tydeus fled to Adrastos in Argos. As 27 Iliad 16.148-151, 19.392-424; Diod. 6.3; Apollod. 3.13.5. Hector h a d horses named Xanthos a n d Podargos (Iliad 8.185); according to Iliad 19.400 the H a r p y Podarge was mother of Achilles' Xanthos. Achilles himself is podarkes (Iliad 1.121, 2.688, etc.), a n d Podarkes of Phthiotis is his double [Iliad 2.704-707; Pyrros 200). T w o of the four man-eating horses of Thracian Diomedes were also called Xanthos and Podargos according to Hyg. Fab. 30.9; three of the four names are the same as those of Hector's horses, the third being L a m p o n . We should notice too that Aesop's master was named Xanthos ( Vitae G W 20-90 passim).

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119

Orestheus-Orestes is both a Phocian and Aetolian hero, so may Xanthippos be; only the narrow land of Ozolian Lokris lies between Phokis and Aitolia. In the same section (1.8.5) Apollodoros reports two other versions of Tydeus' banishment. According to anonymous authorities, Tydeus killed his uncle Alkathoos, Porthaon's son, Oineus' brother; according to Pherekydes (J3.122a), he killed his own brother Olenias. N o w Alkathoos and Olenios ( = Olenias, " O l e n i a n , " with reference to the city Olenos) are the names of two of the seven persons whom Pausanias' contemporaries identified with the Taraxippos of Olympia or with the occupant of the mound so-called (Paus. 6.20.15-18). This was a strange altar-shaped mound on the long side of the hippodrome, concerning which Pausanias says, . . . earw em rfjs ¡xeL^ovos TrAevp&s, ovarjs ^ut/xaTos, Kara rrjv 8ie£o8ov TTJV SIA rov ^ W ^ A R O ? TO TCOV ITTTTCOV 8eip.A O Tapa^vn7ros. crxVIacc fiiofiov vepufaepovs eon, irapadeovras Se Kara TOVTO TOVS tmrovs ojios re avriKa loyvpos COT' ovSe/xlas 7rpotf>aaecns avepas teal AMO TOV of$ov Aafifidvei RAPAYRF ra TE STJ apuARA

Karayvvovmv

dts enLrmv,

KOU, ol IJVIO^OI T I r p c i ) -

Kal rovSe rjvloy^OI eveKCC dvalas Ovovai Kal yeveodai v riot. /MrjSev Statftzpeiv, €t ¡liav imKaXeirai TÖ)v Movaätv Tis' iraoas yap ARRJ^icdvei hta FUÄS. Aeyet Se OVTWS' Vatrai 8* t'laatouai, fuijs OT€ Tovvo/ia Moreover, the differentiation of Muses according to specific functions does not seem to have crystallized until late Roman times; cf. O. Bie, s.v. Musen in Roscher, Ausführliches Lexikon 2.2.3293; M. Mayer, s.v. Musai in RE 16.1.724; see also O. Falter, Der Dichter und sein Gott bei den Griechen und Römern, Diss. Würzburg (Würzburg 1934), 47. Horace's free use of specific and non-specific Muses in his lyrics is instructive here; see references given by P. Shorey-G. J . Laing, Horace, Odes and Epodes, rev. ed. (Chicago 1910; repr. 1960) 332, in note on Odes 3.4.2.

216

Philip Levine

who alone could grant the boon necessary for the immortalization of his verse.28 University of California Los Angeles

28 Cf. Servius on Virg. Aen. 1.8, ed. Harvard., 2.17: sane observandum est ul non in omnibus carminibus numen aliquod invocetur nisi cum aliquid ultra humanam possibilitatem requirimus.

12

M. GWYN MORGAN

The Roman Conquest of the Balearic Isles* Between 123 and 110 a large number of minor campaigns were conducted by Roman generals in various parts of the empire. Several of these campaigns—that of Metellus Baliaricus (cos. 123) amongst them—look to be, and are commonly regarded as, isolated incidents. Which perhaps encourages the suspicion that the commanders merit the strictures passed by Appian upon L. Metellus Delmaticus (cos. 119): he, said Appian, was concerned solely with triumph-hunting, not at all with the problems of empire. 1 1 hope to show here that though Metellus Baliaricus cannot altogether have deserved the triumph he received for conquering the Balearic Isles, his actual campaign was no isolated incident, but a necessary and integral part of a larger strategic operation also involving Spain, Transalpine Gaul, and Sardinia. The sources for Metellus' campaign are few, the details they give sparse. They agree that piracy caused the Romans to take action, but they disagree on the identity of the pirates. 2 In the accounts of Florus and Orosius a sudden, highly dangerous outbreak of piracy on the part of the Balearic islanders themselves led to their conquest * I wish to thank Prof. E. Badian, particularly, and Mr. S. Burstein for most helpful criticism and advice during the writing of this paper. This is not to be taken as meaning that they necessarily agree with the arguments employed or the conclusions reached here. (All dates are B.C.) 1 App. III. 11. I hope to discuss Delmaticus' campaigns elsewhere. 2 Florus 1.43.2; Oros. 5.13.1; Strabo 3.5.1. The only other source to mention the campaign, Livy Epit. 60, offers no reason for it.

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M. Gwyn Morgan

by Rome. According to the former, Baleares per id tempus insulae piratica rabie maria corruperant; in Orosius' version Metellus Baleares insulas bello peruagatus edomuit et piraticam infestationem, quae ab isdem tunc exoriebatur, plurima incolarum caede compressit. Strabo, however, presents a different picture, in which only a few islanders are guilty of piracy: 3 Sia Be Se rrjv aperrjv rtov TOTTOJV KCCI oi / c a r o i / c o w r e s elprjvaloi . . . KctKovpywv TIVWV ¿Xlyiov Koivcovias AVARRJAA^IEVIOV 77pos TOVS ev rots ireXayeai Xyards, SiefiX-qd-qaav anavres, Kal SIEFIRJ MereXXos eir' avrovs o BaX1.ap1.K0s irpooayopevdeis, OOTIS Kal ray noXeis eKTiae. Sia Se rrjv avrr/v aper-qv em^ovXevifievoi, Kaivep elprjvaloi ovres, oficas crevSovfjTai apiaroi Xeyovrai. Although the interrelation of the sources is more complicated and more difficult than it might at first appear, the agreement of Florus and Orosius on the origins of the pirates suggests that both derive from Livy, who—at least on this point—doubtless followed the official Roman view taken at the time of the expedition. 4 It may be that the Romans were given incorrect information, being told that many or most of the islanders were guilty of piracy and, perhaps, not being told of the role played by the pirates of the high seas.5 And no doubt it was in the interests of Metellus to accept this version without question, for fear that the expedition against the islands would not be undertaken and a chance for a triumph lost. But it seems highly likely that at the time the Romans neither made nor even saw any distinction between guilty pirates and innocent islanders. Their concern, understandably enough, was not to establish the pirates' identity, but rather to deny them the use of the islands as a base. Not that the origins of the pirates could be neglected altogether. It is improbable that Strabo was the first to find it significant that only a few of the islanders aided the pirates. It may be impossible 3 " It is because of the fertility of the area that the inhabitants are peaceable. . . . But because a few wrongdoers had formed partnerships with the pirates on the high seas, they were all blamed, and Metellus surnamed Baliaricus made an expedition against them; he is also the man who founded their cities. Plotted against, then, because of the fertility of the area which I have mentioned, the islanders though peaceable are nevertheless said to be the best slingers." The immediate context in which Strabo's remarks occur itself merits quotation for reasons to be discussed presently. 4 As was to be expected (Walsh, Livy [Cambridge 1961] 135f), the Livian tradition has been influenced in certain respects by the account of Posidonius; see infra, nn. 11, 12, and 58. 5 It will be suggested below that the Massiliotes brought this matter to the Romans' attention, and that they had reasons of their own to misrepresent the facts (infra, p. 225).

Roman Conquest of the Balearic Isles

219

to prove beyond all question, but it seems virtually certain that Strabo's source here (as so often elsewhere) is Posidonius.6 We have no definite evidence that Posidonius visited the Balearic Isles, only the statement that he passed close to them while sailing from Spain to Italy.7 This need not exclude the possibility of a visit, since any ancient ship, even a merchantman, would not be likely to sail past a conveniently placed harbor. And as it took Posidonius no less than three months to complete his voyage, it is all but inconceivable that his ship did not put in at the islands en route.8 Piracy being a subject in which he was obviously much interested,9 he would then naturally collect information on Metellus Baliaricus' campaign; being still more interested in ethnography,10 he would just as naturally take care to record—if-such was the information he elicited—that the pirates were not natives of the islands. This theory is not without difficulty, however. Firstly, there is the fact that Diodorus appears to have derived his description of the Balearic Isles from Timaeus, and yet preserves an anecdote found also in Strabo's account, namely that the exceptional accuracy of the Balearic slingers was the result of their being made, while children, to sling for their daily bread.11 Which leaves room for the hypothesis 4 Strabo's dependence on Posidonius here, often stated without discussion (e.g., Schulten, Hermes 46 [1911] 584ff), has been defended in detail by Müllenhoff, Deutsche Altertumskunde I (Berlin 1870) 46Iff; Trüdinger, Studien zur Geschichte der griechisch-romischer Ethnographie (Diss., Basle 1918) 109fF; and Morr, Die Quellen von Strabons drittem Buch (Philologus Supb. XVIII, 3: Leipzig 1926) 118fF. (Hereafter these three works are cited solely by author's name and page number.) For Posidonius as Strabo's source generally see Jacoby, FGrHist IIC, 158; Honigmann, RE4A (1931) 109ff. Though Strabo cites Artemidorus in the opening lines of his account, it is to correct him; on the analogy of Strabo 3.1.4—5, it may be surmised that in this instance Strabo's knowledge of Artemidorus is derived from Posidonius (cf. Morr 41f, 121f). It might be more appropriate to wonder whether Strabo drew his material from the Histories of Posidonius (as is usually assumed) or rather from his wept wxeavov (infra, n. 19). I Strabo 3.2.5. It is unfortunate, but here unimportant, that we cannot accurately date Posidonius' stay in Spain; on that see Reinhardt, RE 22 (1953) 564; Laffranque, Poseidonios d'Apamee (Paris 1964) 65fF, 77ff. 8 A visit to the islands is assumed without further ado by Morr 122 and Lasserre, Strabon: Geographie Tome II ("Budi," Paris 1966) 13f. For Posidonius' use of oral information see infra, n. 22. 9 Strasburger, J RS 55 (1965) 42ff, 49ff. 10 Trüdinger, 80f, 89ff. II Diod. 5.17-18. A remark at the start of his narrative, in the light of Strabo 14.2.10, suggests that he is following Timaeus; for the anecdote see Diod. 5.18.4 and Strabo 3.5.1. Since the story appears again in Floras 1.43.5, this might seem to illustrate the danger of regarding Floras as simply a vehicle of the Livian tradition (cf., most recently, Jal,

8—C.S.C.a. n

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either that Strabo also followed Timaeus or that Diodorus also followed Posidonius. In most other respects the two accounts differ. But though these differences lie primarily in the matter included or excluded by either author, Diodorus and Strabo disagree on how the islanders wore their slings: according to the former each was worn on a different part of the body, whereas the latter states that all three were worn around the head. 12 Morr, basing his conclusions on the work of Miillenhoff and Trudinger, maintained that Posidonius composed his account with the version of Timaeus before him, correcting and expanding the latter's material, that Strabo relied on Posidonius, and that Diodorus took most of his material from Timaeus but supplemented it with details drawn from Posidonius.13 No real objection can be raised against the first two propositions. 14 The third, concerning Diodorus, is highly questionable. It rests only on the hypotheses, first that Timaeus cannot have recorded the native name of the Balearic Isles, and second that he would not have described the islanders' slings and their effectiveness, 15 onXiafios not being a topos he favored. In fact, there is no good reason why Timaeus should not have used the term BaXiapiSes and derived it etymologically from /JceAAeiv; it would accord well with his practice elsewhere.16 And the custom of the island boys to sling for their daily bread, if historical, was so singular that it could hardly be ignored by Timaeus, and mention of it would lead naturally to remarks on the effectiveness of their slinging. No doubt ¿wAio/io? as a topos was more congenial to Posidonius, who composed a work TTepl Ttjs rctKTiKfjs; but it is surely that which explains the greater detail on the subject to be REL 43 [1965] 358ff). But to judge by the Epitome, Livy himself went into detail on the origin of the name of the islands, drawing his material no doubt from Posidonius (cf. Miillenhoff, 462ff; Morr, 118f.; supra, n. 4). In this case, it seems, Florus has followed Livy's account. 12 For the slings see Diod. 5.18.3; Strabo 3.5.1 (Florus 1.43.5 also records the wearing of three slings, but without indicating their location). As for the divergences, Diodorus recounts wedding and funeral customs omitted by Strabo, does not make much of the islands' fertility (cf. infra, n. 19), and, of course, says nothing of the campaigns of Metellus. » Morr, 118ff. 14 Morr, 122 suggests tentatively that Strabo drew his material from Posidonius by way of Livy. I can see no good reason for this, any more than I can for the possibility that Strabo has here "contaminated" Posidonius with material drawn from any Latin source (a possibility to be conceded elsewhere in this book: cf. Aly, Strabon von Amaseia [Bonn 1957] 114ff; Lasserre [supra, n. 8] 7ff). 15 Morr, 119; for the topos see Trudinger, 105, 111. 16 Cf. Miillenhoff, 462ff; Brown, Timaeus of Tauromenium (Berkeley and Los Angeles 1958) 24f, 36, 42.

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found in Strabo's account. In short, it is simplest and most plausible to suppose that Diodorus here followed Timaeus at firsthand and took directly from him the anecdote which Posidonius also appropriated and transmitted to Strabo.18 If this explanation enables us to maintain that Posidonius is indeed the source of Strabo's account, it creates a further difficulty. In this account the statement that only a few islanders were guilty of piracy is embedded in a description of the islands' fertility. As Posidonius firmly believed that geographical factors, r¡ ápe-rq T¿DV TOTTOJV, influenced the nature of the people subjected to them, 19 it is not altogether inconceivable that he deduced the peaceable ways of the Balearic islanders from the fertility of their land, without troubling to check his hypothesis against the facts of the case. Tarn indeed, terming Posidonius neither scientific nor critical, has denied that "he wanted to find out the reason of things; he wanted to find . . . his reason for things". 20 As an historian Posidonius may not have been infallible,21 but it seems unlikely that his account of the Balearic islanders was completely tendentious. The overall tone was clearly apologetic, which was only to be expected if he derived his material from the islanders themselves.22 And it may well be that he "led" his witnesses, to gain the n Strabo 3.5.1; cf. Trüdinger, 105. is Meister, Die Sizilische Geschichte bei Diodor (Diss., Munich 1967) 34f, reaches the same conclusion on Diodorus by a somewhat different route (knowledge of this work I owe to the kindness of Prof. T. S. Brown). The fact that later in this same book Diodorus takes Posidonius as his primary source (5.25ff; Jacoby, FGrHist IIA, 87 F116-F119; IIC, 212ff) is no obstacle. There he is dealing with matters which Timaeus could not have discussed. But he would naturally prefer an early source, such as Timaeus, wherever one was to hand. 1» Cf. Trüdinger, 104, 111; Morr, 121. Contrast Diod. 5.17.1-2, where the islands' fertility is mentioned but nothing is made of it. The fact that Metellus' expedition is described by Strabo in what is virtually a digression from the main theme, r¡ aperr¡ TWV TÓTTOIV, perhaps lends weight to the contention of Honigmann, RE 4A (1931) 109ÍF, that Strabo's source is the nepi wieeavov rather than the Histories of Posidonius; but as he is compelled to admit, the two works must have differed rather in the amount of detail given a subject than in the actual choice of subjects. 20 Tarn and Griffith, Hellenistic Civilisation (London 1952) 304, 350. 21 The infallibility of Posidonius is implicit in the account of Laffranque (supra, n. 7) 109ff. For more balanced appraisals see Reinhardt, RE 22 (1953) 631ff, 822ff; Nock, JRS 49 (1959) Iff. 22 For Posidonius' use of oral information see Laffranque (supra, n. 7) 128f, 182f; Aly (supra, n. 14) 109f. It was no doubt on the basis of such information collected by Posidonius that Strabo was able to report that the Balearic Isles were overrun with rabbits in the years following 123 (3.2.6 and 3.5.2).

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information he needed to accord with his own views on the effects of climate. But even if he was thus able to minimize the number ofislanders engaging in piracy, and to present a picture in which the islanders were by and large the innocent victims of alien predators,23 it does not follow either that a majority of the islanders in fact engaged in piracy, or that the pirates of the high seas were not mainly responsible for the activity which caused the Roman intervention. Diodorus' account, independent of Posidonius' views as we have seen, contains an incidental remark implying that the islanders were peaceable, victims of visiting pirates but not themselves turning to piracy to make good their losses.24 Again, though Metellus Baliaricus seems to have expected major opposition from the islanders, there is little to suggest that his expectations were fulfilled.25 Most important of all, Posidonius' view that the pirates of the high seas were primarily responsible for the Romans' intervention dovetails very neatly with the Livian tradition of a sudden outbreak of piracy in the islands, too neatly indeed for it to be purely coincidental. It may seem a trivial point that the pirates were not natives of the islands for the most part. As it was seldom possible before the early principate to clear the Mediterranean of pirates for any length of time,26 it might be supposed that in 123 the Romans faced only the consequences of their own tendency in matters maritime to adopt a 23 When Strabo/Posidonius says that the islanders " a r e plotted against," this cannot be intended as direct criticism of Metellus; he could be regarded as the man who brought the islanders the blessings of civilization in the shape of two cities (more than enough to compensate for any subsequent plague of rabbits: supra, n. 22). It is also difficult to see here a specific reference to events during Posidonius' lifetime (the first report of trouble in the immediate neighborhood of the islands after 123 belongs in the Sullan era: Plut. Sert. 7.3-4), or in Strabo's lifetime. The basic idea must be that the peaceable islanders are always suffering at the hands of outsiders who raid, or seize and exploit their land (Strabo goes on to talk of Phoenicians' having taken over the islands: cf. also Diod. 5.17.3-4). So it is best to take the remark as a "timeless" generalization, made by Posidonius in a somewhat fuller context and condensed by Strabo. Phoenicians, pirates, and Romans are all alike regarded as predators. However, the point is submerged in, and obscured by, the contrast between the islanders' peaceable natures and their skill with the sling. 24 Diod. 5.17.3. 25 See infra, p. 229 with nn. 54, 57 and 58. 26 See Ormerod, Piracy in the Ancient World (London 1924) 13ff; Strabo 3.2.5 seems to have believed, or perhaps to have accepted Posidonius' view (so Morr 1 If; Lasserre [supra, n. 8] 36, n. 2), that Pompey in 67 cleared the seas permanently; and in the strict sense Sextus Pompey was not a pirate. But even Cicero, after fulsome praise of Pompey the Great, had to concede that he had not ended piracy completely (Cic. pro Flacco 29, 31); and this is confirmed by App. BC 4.83.

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27

policy of laissez-faire. It may also seem a trivial point that the accounts of Florus and Orosius are not consistent with a gradual growth of piracy in the islands, that Florus' talk of piratica rabies and Orosius' stating that trouble tunc exoriebatur both point to a sudden as well as a dangerous outbreak. These two passages could perhaps be dismissed as typical instances of the Romans' failure to appreciate that a phenomenon like piracy was not "something which had suddenly fallen from heaven." 28 But if we link these two apparently trivial points, the whole matter takes on a very different aspect. A sudden influx of pirates into the Balearic Isles would have provided an excellent reason for a sudden outbreak of piracy there; and a sudden outbreak of piracy in the islands would have provided the Romans with an excellent reason for taking action when they did and as they did. Provided that we can explain the initial influx of pirates into the islands, it will be possible at once to confirm the accuracy of the sources and to throw new light on Metellus Baliaricus' campaign. As a brief survey will show, the sources' insistence that piracy occasioned the campaign of Metellus Baliaricus has been variously interpreted by modern scholars. Of these explanations few provide anything like a compelling reason for the Romans' taking action precisely in 123, none offers an adequate reason for any sudden influx of pirates into the islands around this particular date. Greenidge appears to have believed that the pirates were causing unrest in nearby Hispania Citerior, possibly in Ulterior also. 29 However, the first extant report of trouble postdating the destruction of Numantia in 133 belongs under the year 114, and concerns the suppression of latrocinia (brigandage or, perhaps, guerilla warfare) in Ulterior. 30 In both Spanish provinces a long and bloody conflict had ended only a decade or so before 123, 31 and it seems improbable that the inhabitants would have been ready so soon to renew the fighting, whatever the provocation. If it were argued nevertheless that our evi27 Cf. Benedict, AJP 63 (1942) 42. 28 The phrase is from Strasburger (supra, n. 9) 43, n. 34. 2» Greenidge, A History of Rome I (London 1904) 188, remarking that the islands' reduction "may have been regarded as a geographical necessity." 30 Plut. Marius 6.1; Broughton, Magistrates of the Roman Republic I (New York 1951) 535, n. 3. 31 The war in Ulterior seems to have ended in 136: Simon, Roms Kriege in Spanien (Frankfurt a/M 1962) 169ff.

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dence is very poor, and that pirates were successfully fomenting unrest which required military countermeasures in Citerior, one of the Metelli might then be expected to interest himself in the situation. 32 But if this provides some sort of reason for the need to campaign precisely in 123, we still lack an explanation for the sudden influx of pirates into the Balearic Isles at this particular time. A second view based on military considerations has met wider favor. 33 This maintains that for the Romans the deciding factor was the need to secure the sea route from Italy to Spain. The war being fought at this time in Transalpine Gaul must have increased the importance of the sea route to the peninsula; 34 and whether the Spanish provinces were peaceful or disturbed, the Romans had to transport troops (replacements and reinforcements) between Italy and Spain. This provides a perfectly good general reason for annexing the Balearic Isles. It does not, and cannot, explain why the Romans decided to act precisely in 123, rather than in 124 or 122 or, indeed, in any other year within this general period. It was perhaps dissatisfaction with a purely military explanation which led some scholars to assume that the senate decided on action in 123 because of pressures exerted by Roman businessmen.35 Diodorus and Strabo stress the excellence of the crop- and pasture-land to be found in the islands. But it seems most unlikely that a sufficient number of Equités would have been sufficiently impressed by this to try to bring pressure to bear on the senate, let alone pressure great enough for the senate to yield to demands for the islands' seizure. In the late republic the Equités tended to irrupt into politics only when they thought, or could be persuaded, that their own vital interests were threatened. 36 If there was such an irruption to precipitate Metellus' campaign (none is recorded, a point which may not be without sig32 The Metelli must already have had a considerable number of clients in Citerior. Metellus Macedonicus had campaigned there in 143-142, and Metellus Baliaricus almost certainly served under him (Frontin. Str. 4.1.11). ¿3 Ormerod (supra, n. 26) 166; Last, CAHIX (1954) 152f; Scullard, From the Gracchi to Nero (London 1963) 43; cf. also Bloch and Carcopino, Histoire romaine II, 1 (Paris 1952) 279, duly repeated by Van Ooteghem, Les Caecilii Metelli de la république (Brussels 1967) 90. 34 Cf. De Witt, TAPA 72 (1941) 59ff. 35 Cobban, Senate and Provinces 78-49 B.C. (Cambridge 1935) 46. See also the works of Last, Scullard, Bloch and Carcopino, and Van Ooteghem cited in n. 33, supra. 36 Badian, Foreign Clientelae (Oxford 1958) 202; Roman Imperialism in the Late Republic (Pretoria 1967) 18ff.

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nificance in view of C. Gracchus' activities), it is to be assumed that more was at stake than the profits to be gained by exploiting the islands. The pirates' interference with the commercial development of Hispania Citerior, if such there was, 37 and with trade between Spain and Italy might conceivably have provided that stake. But in the last resort it remains the case that the ordo equester had yet to gain true political consciousness and an effective means of making clear its wishes, the result rather than the concomitant of C. Gracchus' legislation. Hence it remains doubtful that they would have taken concerted action, doubtful too that the senate would have yielded to such action without reasons of its own for so doing. Besides, we have still to explain the need for action precisely in 123, and the reason for the pirates' taking over the Balearic Isles at this time. If commercial considerations are involved, it seems much more likely that they are those of the Massiliotes. It was, after all, an appeal from Massilia which gave the Romans a pretext for intervention in Transalpine Gaul in 125, and it is hard to believe that she was insensitive to the activities of any pirates in the western Mediterranean. It had been one of her functions to keep them under control, and her own decline must have contributed a good deal to the growth of their power. In fact, we may reasonably surmise that it was the Massiliotes who informed the Romans of the dangerous outbreak of piracy in the Balearic Isles and impressed on them the need for action. We may even conjecture that the Massiliotes were responsible ultimately for the view in which a majority of the islanders were represented as pirates. T o draw fine distinctions between guilty pirates and innocent islanders would not have strengthened the case the Massiliotes would need to offer in order to secure Roman intervention. But again it may be doubted that the Romans decided to act against the pirates merely in order to protect Massiliote interests, any more than they intervened in Transalpine Gaul for that reason. There, as Badian has said, it was the road to Spain which provided the one real Roman interest in the area : " Gallia, for the moment, was no more than a road ", 3 8 If anything, the need to campaign against pirates based on the Balearic Isles would only reinforce that attitude. It may be assumed therefore that the senate had reasons 37 Thus Mommsen, History of Rome III (London 1888) 19. 38 Badian, Mélanges offerts à Piganiol (Paris 1966) 904; cf. De Witt (supra, n. 34) 68f.

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of its own for undertaking the expedition, reasons which did not include as an end in itself consideration of the interests of either Roman businessmen or the Massiliotes. A political motive could be supplied by the fact that Gaius Gracchus entered upon his first tribunate on 10 December 124. We know that Metellus Baliaricus was sent out to the islands at some date in 123, early in the year in all probability. 39 It is not out of the question that when he left Rome, the tribune had already begun to woo the Equites and to manifest an interest in the two areas where his family had numerous clients, Spain and Asia. 40 If the pirates were harassing the inhabitants of Citerior and at the same time interfering with its commercial development, the senate might well have found it expedient to act precisely in 123; not because this action would be likely to win over the Equites affected, but to prevent Gracchus exploiting the situation for his own ends. Such political considerations could also explain the Romans' taking action in 123 despite the military problems involved. The difficulty of obtaining recruits for the legions was still acute, 41 the burden of governing provinces already acquired was not decreasing, and the campaigns being fought at this time in Transalpine Gaul and Sardinia complicated the situation still further. 42 It seems likely enough that Metellus took the troops he needed from Hispania Citerior; he may even have been the governor of that province from 123 to 121.43 But if that obviated the need to find new recruits, it still 39 This is shown by his being termed "consul" in Livy, Epit. 60. The term is normally used with precision by Livy: R. E. Smith, Service in the Post-Marian Roman Army (Manchester 1958) Uf. 40 Cf. Badian, Foreign Clientelae 182f, and also infra, n. 43. In this connection the political relationship of Gracchus and Metellus (whatever it may have been) is of course irrelevant; what counted was the senate's decision to act. 41 For a survey of the problem, in which C. Gracchus naturally interested himself, see Earl, Tiberius Gracchus: a Study in Politics (Brussels 1963) 30ff. 42 On these campaigns see below. 43 It was certainly from Spain, doubtless Citerior, that Metellus drew the 3,000 settlers he established at Palma and Pollentia, and these were very probably men who had fought under him: cf. Badian (supra, n. 40) 205; Garcia y Bellido, Las colonias romanas de Hispania (Madrid 1959) 457; infra, n. 63. The size of Metellus' force is not recorded, but as a consul he ought to have commanded two legions. As to his being governor of Citerior, it is difficult to believe that Metellus found, or could claim to have found, sufficient work in the islands themselves to justify his not returning to Rome till 121 (cf. infra, pp. 229f). Though he no doubt wished privately to avoid involvement in the Gracchan crisis, he ought to have been able to offer a valid public reason for his absence from Rome: attending to matters in Citerior would have provided a suitable pretext. Now C. Gracchus is known to have persuaded the senate to censure Q,. Fabius Maximus, propraetor in Spain in 123 (Broughton

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put some strain, however slight, on existing resources. It is legitimate to wonder whether the Romans relished even that prospect. But though these political considerations may perhaps have outweighed any military difficulties and have necessitated the expedition's being mounted precisely in 123, we still lack (let it be said once again) plausible reasons for the influx of pirates into the Balearic Isles at this time. It appears not to have been suggested that the activities of the pirates were connected closely with the campaigns then being fought by the Romans in Transalpine Gaul a"nd Sardinia. Trouble had broken out in the former area in 125, and from the first the Romans had enjoyed considerable success.44 In Sardinia a restless peace had prevailed between 175 and 126, but in the latter year it had been found necessary to send out the consul L. Aurelius Orestes. Details of his achievements are lacking; but they were sufficient to secure him a triumph, celebrated in December 122.45 It is clear that there were pirates (mainly Ligurians perhaps) to operate off and, in some cases, from bases on the southern coast of Gaul. As has been said already, it had been one of Massilia's functions to keep them under control. That pirates were to be found off the Sardinian coast is also known. 46 That they were responsible, wholly or in part, for some of the disturbances which took Roman commanders to the island is at least a possibility, albeit a possibility generally overlooked, it seems, because there must have been a Roman garrison there once it became a province, and because the central highlands, never effectively reduced by the Romans, were a constant source of unrest. 47 However, there is nothing to indicate the size of the garrison maintained in the island during the supposedly peaceful periods it enjoyed under the republic, and it is doubtful that

[supra, n. 30] 514). Which province he governed is unknown. But though Gracchus' connections with Citerior were the closer, it seems to me that Fabius must now be credited with the government of Ulterior. It may even be the case that Gracchus attacked Fabius as a way of retaliating for being deprived of any chance to interfere in Citerior. 44 See the standard works, e.g., Last (supra, n. 33) 11 Off. 45 Sources in Broughton (supra, n. 30) 508, 518. 46 Ormerod (supra, n. 26) 151, 162, 239. 47 Strabo 5.2.7. That the disturbances in Sardinia (Philipp, RE 1A [1920] 2491) and Corsica (Hillsen, RE 4 [1901] 1659) under the early principate are to be regarded as exclusively land based is obvious; then there were regular fleets to patrol the seas. The danger lies in retrojecting this situation into the republican period.

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in such times there were means short of a major campaign to control pirates who found bases in its less accessible regions. 48 Now what the inhabitants of Sardinia faced from 126 onward, those of Transalpine Gaul from 125 onward, were determined attempts by the Romans to put down the unrest in these areas. In both theaters the Romans would have found it easiest to police the coastline, whether they saw the need for this themselves or, as is also possible, were advised of it by the Massiliotes. In Gaul indeed, C. Sextius Calvinus (cos. 124) cleared the coastline east of Massilia, compelling the natives to withdraw from the sea for a distance of one to one and a half miles and entrusting the corridor thus cleared to the Massiliotes.49 In both theaters, then, it may be assumed that those wishing to continue the practice of piracy would be less likely to surrender their ships than their homes (or, in the case of outsiders, their bases), less likely to withdraw inland than to sail off in search of new bases. Although the Balearic Isles are not very close to either Gaul or Sardinia, it is by no means improbable that refugees from both areas made their way to the islands during 126-124, no less improbable that pirates from other areas were induced to join them there. From the Balearic Isles they would be able to continue their resistance to Rome, using a base which at this time seems to have been the nearest still free from Roman rule, and which certainly possessed excellent harbors for their purposes.50 From here they would be able to raid shipping traveling to and from Spain and Gaul. 51 And from here they would be able to foment unrest in Gaul and Sardinia, mainly no doubt by blockade^S The garrison kept in Sardinia under the early principate numbered 4,000 men: Philipp, RE 1A (1920) 2492. 49 Strabo 4.1.5. If the Massiliotes advised the Romans, it was not on the methods used. According to Strabo 7.5.6 the Romans forced the Ardiaei of Illyria to withdraw from the Dalmatian coast; this occurred, I think, during the campaign of Ser. Fulvius Flaccus in 135: Livy Epit. 56; App. III. 10; cf. Fluss, RE Suppl. 5 (1931) 334. 5" The islands, says Strabo 3.5.1, "have good harbors, though . . . full of reefs at the entrances, so that there is need of vigilance on the part of those who sail in" (trans. H. L. Jones, Loeb ed.). For Sardinian pirates merely to move to Corsica would have postponed the problem set by the Roman presence in the immediate neighborhood, but would hardly have solved it in the way they could hope a move to the Balearic Isles would do. 51 The types of ships used by pirates varied considerably in size and endurance: see Ormerod (supra, n. 26) 26ff. But despite Ormerod, 27, it is not to be concluded from Floras 1.43.3 that the Balearic islanders used "a crowd of rafts." This accords with neither the Latin of the passage nor the description of the sea battle between Metellus and the pirates (Floras 1.43.4-5).

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running, but also by their very occupation of the islands: the knowledge that pirates who included members, however few in number, of their own races were still holding out there can scarcely have encouraged those who remained behind in Gaul or Sardinia to submit the more readily to the Romans. In these circumstances there would be good reason for an influx of pirates into the Balearic Isles in the years immediately before 123, an influx of which the Massiliotes probably informed the Romans. And this influx surely provided the Romans with their main reason for taking action precisely in 123. At least some of the other reasons discussed already may very well be admitted as subsidiary motives. But the primary reason for the Roman decision to annex the Balearic Isles in 123 must remain their wish to assist and to accelerate the pacification of Transalpine Gaul and Sardinia, completed (it may be noted) in 120 and 122 respectively.53 The actual campaign conducted by Metellus Baliaricus appears to have been as brief as it was successful. When the Roman fleet neared the islands, the consul ordered his troops to erect screens of hide above deck level to protect them against slingshots—he at least must have expected opposition from the islanders. 54 The first attack launched by the pirates seemingly caused the Romans some alarm. But after the fleets closed with one another, the pirates broke and fled to the islands, dispersing among the hills.55 It has been conjectured that Metellus had now to reduce native strongholds, but the sources report only a man52 Cf. Badian (supra, n. 40) 152 and n. 5; Studies in Greek and Roman History (Oxford 1964) 3f. The best ancient account of the difficulties facing a blockading force is probably Poly. 1.46-47, on Hannibal the Rhodian. 53 It is probably not significant that Metellus Baliaricus rather than his colleague in the consulship, T. Quinctius Flamininus, was made commander of the expedition. Flamininus seems to have lacked his military training and ability; we know only that he was a mediocre orator who made no mark on Roman politics during his long life: Gundel, RE 24 (1963) llOOf. 54 Strabo 3.5.1. According to Florus 1.43.4, the pirates ingenti lapidum saxorumque nimbo classem operuerimt. If this is accurate (rather than Florus' rhetorical presentation of what ought to have happened), it still remains the only instance of Metellus' being opposed by the concerted efforts of island slingers. Though Metellus won the sea battle, the slingers could still have made it difficult for him to land (cf. Livy 28.37.7). 55 Florus 1.43.4-6. The fact that the pirates fled to the islands does not disprove the view that most of them were non-natives. In antiquity it was customary to strip a warship for action (which included removing the sailing tackle) and when battle commenced, to try and drive the enemy onto the shore (cf. Tarn, Hellenistic Military and Naval Developments [Cambridge 1930] 150). The pirates had no choice.

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hunt which covered both islands and occasioned considerable slaughter. 56 In other words, there may have been slaughter enough to enable the Roman commander to count 5,000 enemy dead; 5 7 but however useful and however complete the conquest of the islands may have been as a police action, there is nothing to indicate the single engagement in which those dead should have fallen for Metellus to be able to claim the right of a triumph. 58 Metellus seems to have been able almost immediately to arrange for the foundation of two settlements, Palma and Pollentia, on the larger island (the modern Majorca). Unless he also spent time regulating the affairs of Hispania Citerior, 59 it was presumably the need to arrange for these foundations which prevented him from celebrating his triumph and assuming his high-flown cognomen "Baliaricus" before 121.60 The exact status of the two settlements is unknown. The senate evidently opposed the establishment of Roman colonies at this time, 61 and Pliny's describing Palma and Pollentia as oppida ciuium Romanorum surely indicates that they were not Roman colonies in Augustus' day. 6 2 The most plausible view, maintained by Wilson, is that they were unchartered towns. 63 Here, however, it is more important to note the 56 Oros. 5.13.1 (no doubt overstated) ; cf. Livy Epit. 60 ; Floras 1.43.6. For the conjecture see Hübner, RE 2 (1896) 2827. 57 Diod. 5.17.2 gives the population of the islands as more than 30,000_ This too makes the sources' failure to report a single major engagement on land noteworthy. 58 For this regulation see Val. Max. 2.8.1 ; Oros. 5.4.7. Admittedly, Metellus ended the war (cf. supra, n. 23), the other major requirement. The fact that Livy spent time on the origin of the islands' name points not only to his following Posidonius (supra, n. 11), but also to his having little else to say. He was under no obligation to include such etymological data; presumably his audience had not missed them in his account of Mago's expedition to the island (28.37.5-9). 59 See supra, n. 43. 60 Sources in Broughton (supra, n. 30) 521. For the settlements see Strabo 3.5.1. 61 Badian, Foreign Clientele\e 162f; Mélanges offerts à Piganiol 903f. 62 Pliny NH 3.77; contra, Alfoldy, Bevölkerung und Gesellschaft der römischen Provini Dalmatien (Budapest 1965) 141. 63 Wilson, Emigration from Italy in the Republican Age of Rome (Manchester 1966) 22, n. 3. It has been argued by Degrassi, Scritti vari di antichità I (Rome 1962) 137, that they were Latin colonies. But it is by no means certain that Aquae Sextiae, the settlement to which he likens Palma and Pollentia, was itself a Latin colony (cf. Vittinghoff, Römische Kolonisation und Bürgerrechtspolitik [Wiesbaden 1951] 100, n. 6) ; and it seems improbable that at this date Roman citizens would have been settled in Latin colonies (cf. Geizer, Kleine Schriften II [Wiesbaden 1963] 94). It is probably not significant that the two settlements have names of the same type as those given to Latin colonies founded early in the second century, e.g., Copia (on this feature see Ewins, BSR 7 [1952] 69). Nor is it very helpful that the Roman

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source from which Metellus drew the 3,000 settlers he brought to the island, namely Roman and/or Italian towns in Spain. 64 It is difficult to see why they should have been drawn from this source, unless it was intended that the settlers should be "mainly veterans . . . with only a sprinkling of civilian immigrants". 65 This is clear evidence that the main reason for the settlements, as for the expedition which occasioned them, was military—to place on the island men able to prevent a resurgence of piracy. 66 To sum up, it has been argued here that the accounts of Florus, Orosius, and Strabo provide important, reliable information on Metellus Baliaricus' activities in 123-122 and the reasons for them. The Livian tradition, represented by Florus and Orosius, indicates that there was a sudden, dangerous outbreak of piracy in the Balearic Isles just before 123; the account of Strabo, based on Posidonius, shows that most of the pirates were not natives of the islands. Combining these data enables us to conclude that there was a sudden influx of pirates into the islands, and that this must have been brought about by the Roman campaigns in Sardinia and Transalpine Gaul in and after 126. Although other motives—military, economic, and political—may have played a subsidiary part in the senate's decision, it was above all else to complete the work of pacification in these two areas that the decision was taken to annex the islands precisely in 123. Though Metellus Baliaricus cannot altogether have deserved the triumph he celebrated in 121, the two settlements he planted on what is now Majorca also testify to the importance which the senate attached to the suppression of the pirates, and hence to strengthening the Roman hold on Sardinia and to pacifying the coast of Gaul. University of California Los Angeles citizens in the islands belonged to the tribus Velina (Taylor, Voting Districts of the Roman Republic [Rome 1960] 95), although the fact that this tribe is not recorded in Spain proper perhaps strengthens the view that the settlers were veterans (Garcia y Bellido [supra, n. 43] 457). M Strabo 3.5.1. That these settlers were part of a larger number of immigrants—the view of Last (supra, n. 33) 152 and ofScullard (supra, n. 33) 43—seems much less likely than that they were the only settlers, being additional (tiroUovs, Strabo) not to other immigrants but to the surviving natives (cf. Piganiol, La conquête romaine [Paris 1944] 282). 65 Wilson (supra, n. 63) 10. «6 Cf. Greenidge (supra, n. 29) 189: Abbott, CP 10 (1915) 372.

THOMAS G. ROSENMEYER

13

For Eric Havelock

The Rookie: A Reading of Pindar Nemean 1 Ae'Aoyxe

fie/jL^ofievois

eaXovs

vScop

Kairvat

epeivjavriov.

Farnell 1 calls this passage (24-25) "perhaps the most serious conundrum that Pindar has left us." Of the many interpretations proposed, 2 that of Aristarchus, 3 followed by T. Mommsen, Schroeder, and others, 4 still seems to me to do justice to the syntax, and to make simple good sense: rots 8e rovs ayadovs ¡lefi^oftivois TOVTO AeAoy%e KCU, VTTOKeifiev6v

eoTiv,

otov

¿KoXovdei,

axrnep

KA-NVTA V8A>p

epeiv

avriov

KA.TO.a-

That is to say: those who criticize men of quality engage in a task which is analogous to fighting smoke with water. Perhaps Aristarchus does not go far enough; he appears to have thought that the simile is one of futility. Others, notably von Leutsch, Mezger, and Farnell, while adopting Aristarchus' analysis, point out that pouring water on smoking wood is likely to increase the smoke.5 The image, then, is one of self-defeat; the critics of the establishment merely succeed in making the establishment look even better. Bury is unhappy; 6 " Though

fSewvvai.

1 L. R. Farnell, ed. tr. comm., The Works of Pindar II (1932) 245. 2 For a survey of the principal attempts to solve the crux, see now S. L. Radt, "Pindars Erste Nemeische Ode," Mnemosyne 19 (1966) 154ff. 3 Schol. Pindar Nem. 1.34b, vol. 3.16.2ff Drachm.; Boeckh's is rightly rejected by Fr. Mezger Pindars Siegeslieder (1880) 105; Karaoflewvvai is a purposive infinitive. •» T. Mommsen, ed., Pindari Carmina (1864) 297-298; O. Schroeder, ed., Pindari Carmina (1923) 275. 5 Mezger, 105; Farnell, 246. 6 J. B. Bury, ed. comm., Pindar: Nemean Odes (1890) l(i.

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a small quantity of water poured on a smoking fire causes the vapour to spread about, a sufficiently large quantity will extinguish it." But the carefulness of a quantitative gradualism suits Pindar ill. The pitch of the poetry compels us to imagine a splendidly large amount of smoke, and a single attempt at dousing. There are two further objections, raised most recently by Radt in a thorough study of the poem. 7 (1) There is no evidence that "pouring water on smoke" was a proverb; if it was not, (2) Pindar's mention of smoke must be conditioned by analogical thinking. Aristarchus' reading would set up an identification of smoke with the ¿aXoi. This, Radt argues, cannot be since smoke always has unfavourable associations. Since (2) is dependent for its validity on (1), it should be sufficient to show that "pouring water on smoke" may have been a proverb, or at least that we cannot prove that it was not. 8 LeutschSchneidewin 9 cite a proverb irvp e'm irvp from Zenobius and others; the reference is to Plato Laws 2.666a: SiSaoKovres to? ov %py ™>p «« irvp ¿xereveiv . . . and Plutarch Moralia 123e: Iv ovv /XT) irvp em irvpi, ws

. . . ; 1 0 and possibly to Cratinus fr. 18 Kock. further cites Philo Embassy to Gains 125: TO Xeyofievov

aai, . . . yev-qrai

Wyttenbach

11

Kara rrjv irapoifiiav irvp eirujiepcov irvpi. Apparently the proverb, either

without a verb or with a verb of ministration, refers to an activity which is both precarious and ultimately futile. Plato's negative injunction stresses both aspects of the piling of fire upon fire. The proverb thus does not convey quite the same sense as the several maxims denoting merely futility, on the order of "carrying owls to Athens." If we dismiss Cratinus, whose text is too corrupt to qualify for inclusion, we are left with three major authors who use "adding fire to fire" in a figurative sense. I suggest that Plutarch and Philo feature the proverb because it occurred in Plato. Proverbs used by Plato and Plutarch were likely to catch the later collectors' eyes. 7 Radt (supra, n. 2) 155. Radt also presents a full discussion of AeAoyxe> he concludes, 159-160, that it is best to regard it as an impersonal verb used with the dative of the person ("jemandem zufallen"). 8 Cf. Schroeder (supra, n. 4) 275. 9 E. L. von Leutsch and F. G. Schneidewin, edd., Corpus Paroemiographorum Graecorum, I (1839) 148, with notes. 10 For other occurrences in Plutarch, cf. D. Wyttenbach, ed. comm., Plutarchi Moralia VI, 1 (1810) 481; and W. R. Paton and I. Wegehaupt, edd., Plutarchi Moralia I (1925) 256. 1> Wyttenbach, 481. See also R, Stroemberg, Grekiska Ordsprak (1949) 43.

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Generally, however, the transmission of collections of proverbs was much subject to chance. Even if the earlier collections, by Didymus and others, were relatively complete, all we have today is the descendants of digests and excerpts. The odds are reasonably good, therefore, that "water upon smoke" was the sort of proverbial expression which Pindar might have used loosely without establishing a presumption that smoke and the leaders of society are somehow analogous. But even on the assumption that there was no proverb, and that Pindar either coined the phrase on the analogy of "fire upon fire"12 or invented it out of whole cloth, Radt's reasoning is not conclusive. The figurative associations of smoke are not necessarily unfavorable. 1 3 In many cases, especially in philosophy, the implications of smoke are morally neutral. 1 4 Moreover, we do not really know very much about the psychology of comparing. Let us guard against the insistent tidiness which has caused much embarrassment in the study of the Homeric simile, the tendency to relate every detail in the coraparatum to its supposed analogue in the comparandum. It is better to surrender to Pindaric parataxis, to savor each point, the criticism of the establishment and the image of water on smoke, separately, and then to relish the near-identity of the two ideas, in retrospect. Once we free ourselves of unwarranted stipulations about the role of proverbs, about the moral burden of smoke, and the internal filiations of the terms pi comparatum and comparandum, Aristarchus' construing of the passage cannot be faulted. The principal reason why Aristarchus has displeased some of his modern admirers is the expectation that there must be a connection between smoke and vi and rixyai. 37 H. Herter, " E i n neues Tuerwunder," RhM 89 (1940) 153 speaks of the "heroische Erhabenheit Pindars." 38 Jason sheds his lepoictov tlpa. Méautis (supra, n. 33) 174 misreads the text of Nem. 1.37-38: "Héraclès, dit Pindare, n'a pas encore été enveloppé dans les langes." 3» Pherecydes fr. 69 (FGrHist 1, No. 3, p. 79); Theocr. Ii. 24.1; Apollod. 2.4.8.

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cabinet of horrors from which the black-figure vase painters drew their most delightful grotesqueries. Elsewhere in Pindar, the child Iamus is raised by two snakes (01. 6.45). There is no inherent reason, except for the machinations of celestial power politics, why two snakes should simultaneously attack a sleeping babe. When they do, we must rid ourselves of Frazerian preconceptions concerning the awesomeness of snakes. Here they are the villains, plain and simple. Other heroes are content to kill one serpent, and only after the most taxing struggle. 40 Heracliscus kills two of them, without even trying, as if the feat demanded no greater effort than sucking his thumb. Pindar is our first reporter of the tale ; 41 he calls it an ancient tale, and we have no reason to distrust the acknowledgment. The chief variant goes under the name of Pherecydes. 42 According to it, it was not Hera who sent the snakes, but Amphitryon, with the intention of finding out which of the two children was his. He found out when Iphicles, one year old in Pherecydes' account, ran away, while Heracles accepted the challenge. Some scholars argue that this variant is the older one, and that Hera's role is secondary. 43 But this is hardly likely; the Pherecydes version has the look of clever rationalization which we associate with fifth-century commentators on mythology. The oldest pictorial representations do not show Iphicles running, but firmly bundled in his swaddling clothes. 44 The first monument mentioned in literature is the famous painting by Zeuxis. 45 40

For Heracles himself as serpent-killer, see B. Schweitzer, Herakles (1922)

passim. 41 For a list of the versions, all of them apparently dependent either directly or indirectly on Pindar, see C. Robert, Griechische Heldensage (1921) 619, n. 4. 42 The date of Pherecydes, whose version is not cited separately by Robert, is uncertain. K. von Fritz, Die griechische Geschichtsschreibung 1.2 (1967) 60ff, presents the difficulties of the evidence, and his own uncertainties in the face of them. Accepting the tradition that Pherecydes offered a genealogy of Hippocrates (fr. 59), he appears to favor a date somewhat lower than the first quarter of the fifth century in which Jacoby had put most of the fragments. There is nothing about dates in A. Uhl, Pherekydes von Athen (Diss. 1963). von Fritz does not discuss fr. 69. For the time being, therefore, I shall feel free to assume that Pherecydes' account is in the nature of a critique of Pindar's, or at least of the traditional version, and that in any case Pherecydes did not publish it as early as 476. 43 F. Jacoby in FGrHist 1.2.412; O. Gruppe in RE Suppl. 3 (1918) 1017. 44 The best and most complete discussion is by O. Brendel, "Der schlangenwuergende Herakliskos," Arch. Jahrb 47 (1932) 191-238, who cites earlier discussions. G. Lippold, in RdmMitt 51 (1936) 96-103, differs from Brendel only in the dating and deriving of certain monuments of the later period. 4 5 Pliny HN 35.63: Magnificus est et Jupiter eius in throno adstantibus diis et Hercules infans dracones strangulans Alcmena matre coram pavente et Amphitryone. Cf. also J. Overbeck,

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But the earliest extant monuments go back to Pindar's own time. Note especially a stamnos by the Berlin painter (Louvre G 192), dated after 480. It shows two boys on a X X I V R ] , Athena, a bearded man (Amphitryon?), a woman (Hera?), and Alcmene seizing Iphicles from behind the KXIVT}. A slightly later vase, a hydria by the Nausicaa painter dated ca. 450 B.C., presents a scene which corresponds more closely to Pindar's conception. It shows the two children on their KXIVT], Alcmene to the right raising her arms in fright, Amphitryon approaching from the left with raised sword, and Athena behind the KXivq. Contrary to the Berlin painter whose Heracliscus is a minuscule adult, half covered under his blankets, the Nausicaa painter gives us a more childlike Heracliscus, kneeling as he strangles the snakes.46 In the end Zeuxis, ca. 430 B.C., took Heracliscus off the KX ivq and had him kneel, somewhat uncertainly, on the floor. This is the conception which became canonical, both in subsequent painting and statuary, and on the coins from Thebes, Zacynthus, and certain Aegean islands, beginning in the late fifth century. 47 There is no ancient example of a standing Heracliscus. On all of the vases influenced by Zeuxis, Alcmene either saves Iphicles or runs off in terror; on none of them does Iphicles run off himself. Pherecydes' lively version, therefore, was a flash in the pan, and exerted no influence. Pindar's version, that the serpents came from Hera and that Amphitryon's role was to be fearful and amazed, may be presumed to have been the standard tale. Given Pindar's reluctance to saddle the gods with misdemeanor, he is unlikely to have invented Hera's plot. In Paean 20 = P.Oxy. 26.2442 fr. 32 col. 1, the snakes are merely QeoTro^-noi. It is as if Pindar were here soft-pedaling a divine responsibility which elsewhere he allows to stand. According to the tradition, a paean 48 is bound to be gayer than an epinician. Certainly Paean 20 has certain circumstantial touches—Heracliscus slipping out of the swaddling clothes to be unencumbered for the fight, and Alcmene not taking the time to get dressed as she runs to help— Die antiken Schriftquellen (1868) nos. 1665 and 1666. Brendel (supra, n. 44) 192 speculates that Pliny is talking about two paintings, one of Zeus and one Heracliscus. But this seems to me unlikely in view of the many representations of Zeus and other divinities in paintings of the Heracliscus theme. 46 See the plate in G. Richter, "'Attributed* Vases Recently Acquired by the Metropolitan Museum of Art," AJA 30 (1926) 40. On a contemporary vase from Perugia Heracliscus is also on his knees; see Brendel (supra, n. 44) 197. 47 Cf. A. Furtwaengler, in Roscher 1.2 (1886-1890) 2222ff. 48 But note Lobel's warning that we cannot be absolutely certain that the poem was a paean.

The Rookie: A Reading of Pindar Nemean 1

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which cause delight. But the epinician, in this case, does as well as the paean, and contributes its own additional elements of humor. It will not do to be mechanical in correlating genre concepts with ranges of mood. The genre counts for less than the myth, and the nature of the myth takes its cue from the idea of the poem, whose generic standing is often the result of external combinations rather than internal logic.49 The saffron swaddling clothes; the child just born who with a minimum of effort holds the snakes until they are dead; the prophet who predicts the baby's future in front of the assembled populace of Thebes: these are melodramatic touches worthy of Euripides,50 and indicative of the relaxed good humor with which Pindar pursues the theme of promise and the fruits of labor. Goethe commented on the kneeling of the Heracliscus in Philostratus Jun. 5 and in a painting in Naples: "Die Weisheit des Kuenstlers will nur die Kraft der Arme und Faeuste darstellen. Die Glieder sind schon goettlich; aber die Kniee . . . muessen erst durch Zeit und Nahrung gestaerkt werden." Brendel, who cites the passage, rightly sees a similar tendency in Pindar, an anecdotal quality which is usually foreign to Pindar's verse. The contrast between the supernatural strength of the fists and the incapacity of the child's movement is, if anything, even more amusing than what Goethe saw on his vase. Pindar's Heracliscus does not kneel, but lies stiffly in his bed clothes, with only his head raised, "the last impossibility for a new-born babe," as Farnell remarks.51 The divine fists do their work with only minimal contribution from the rest of the body.

4 9 To take a related case, Herter (supra, n. 37) 152-153 gathers from the Antinoe pap. that Theocritus meant Idyll 24 to be appreciated as a hymn and not as an epyllion. Unfortunately we are still rather uncertain about the nature of the epyllion. In any case, does it matter ? Especially in the Hellenistic period, but also among earlier writers (example: Sappho 44 LP) great poets are capable of writing verse whose forms seems to fit into a generic scheme but whose content and ethos transcend that scheme. Theocritus adapted formal traditions to his own purposes; Pindar, I dare say, was capable of doing the same. 50 Compare the use Plautus makes of the material, in Amphittyo 1108fF. Ed. Fraenkel, De media et nova comoedia quaestiones selectae (Diss.l912)67 thinks that both Pindar and the tragic poet on whom Plautus relied (Euripides ?) took the incident from a Boeotian epic about the birth of Heracles. What is more, Fraenkel thinks that the witty proscription of Teiresias at the end of the Amphitryo is in imitation of Plautus' model who sacrificed the prophet in order to gain space for a deus ex machina. We have no evidence for any of this. 51 Farnell (supra, n. 1) I (1930) 162. In writing this paper I have learned much, though not as much as they might wish, from talks with Marsh McCall and Adam Parry.

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The babe does his killing automatically, as a carnivorous plant closes on a fly. Compare Martial's (14.177). Elidit geminos infans nec respicit anguis, a distant heir of Pindar's dramatization of unconcerned automatism. I hope I have said enough to show that the temper of Pindar's Heracliscus myth is one of gaiety, its mode one of calm repose, and its burden one of promise and the bright future. The passage with which the paper began, the comparison of social cavil with the abortive act of fighting smoke with water, takes its place within the poem's encomiastic cheer. Before the shining promise and the airy, buoyant brilliance of Chromius' athletic career, the dispraise of critics would be—not: are; the encomium does not allow for the possibility, but delights in conditions contrary to fact, expressed as general truths—as ineffective as the snakes are in the outstretched arms of a superbly unconcerned Heracliscus. The glory of the victor is complete, precisely because his gifts ensure a future of triumphs obtained with the ease of the gods. University of California Berkeley

14

RAPHAEL SEALEY

Probouleusis and the Sovereign Assembly I. THE PROBLEM

In the classical period the Greek city had a sovereign assembly, which adult male citizens could attend in large numbers. This is true of the relatively well-attested constitutions, such as those of Athens and Sparta; it holds also for other cities, on which evidence is scanty, for example Syracuse (Thuc. 6.32.3-6.41). Little is known about narrow regimes, which are sometimes called oligarchies (a tendentious term deserving a separate inquiry). Indeed the fullest information about narrow regimes concerns the Athenian experiments of 411 and 404; these admittedly restricted the franchise but they recognized, at least in theory, a sovereign assembly which several thousand adult male citizens could attend. In the Boiotian federation of 447-386 sovereignty belonged to a council of660 deputies drawn from the several units constituting the federation, and this pattern may have been observed for a time in many federal states; 1 but in cities as distinct from federations a sovereign public assembly was normal. "Sovereignty" is a lawyer's term. To say that such and such an organ is sovereign is to recognize the legal sanction for decisions of the state; this does not necessarily or, perhaps, usually say anything about the actual political forces which bring about decisions. It is true to say that in the United Kingdom sovereignty belongs to the crown in parliament, but this statement does not reveal anything about 1

Hell. Oxy. 11; J . A. O. Larsen Representative Government in Greek and Roman History (Berkeley, Los Angeles 1955) 22-46.

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Raphael Sealey

the actual forces which determine British legislation and policy. In Athens the assembly was not merely sovereign; it was the scene where real political decisions were taken. Possibly in some other Greek cities the assembly in fact merely ratified measures and the real decisions were taken elsewhere; nonetheless decisions derived their legal sanction from the vote of the assembly. To ask how the crown in parliament has come to be sovereign in the United Kingdom is not merely a lawyer's question; the answer would require historical study of political forces. One may equally ask, how did the public assembly come to be sovereign in the Greek city ? That is the question to which this paper is addressed and it is a question about political forces in archaic Greece. An answer that is widely accepted to this question has been reached through study of the probouleutic council characteristic of the classical Greek city. Professor A. Andrewes expounded the following theory in his inaugural lecture, Probouleusis (Oxford 1954), and returned to it in The Greek Tyrants (London 1956). He believes that the introduction of hoplite tactics had social and political repercussions. Henceforth the military power of the state was drawn from a wider class than in prehoplite days; so this wider class of substantial peasant-farmers demanded a share in political power. In some cities the consequent struggle of this wider class against the older regime issued in tyranny (although Andrewes recognized that the efFccts of hoplite tactics were only one of the factors producing the early tyrannies), but Sparta devised a solution which was her lasting contribution to the technique of government. That solution is embodied in the Rhetra preserved by Plutarch, Lykourgos 6. It consisted in distributing the power of making decisions so that the assembly was sovereign but items could only come before it after they had been approved by the Spartan council of thirty elders. Other cities copied the Spartan solution in outline. Solon improved on his model when he instituted a council of400. The Chiote boule demosie, attested about 550, may in turn be derived from the Athenian council. 2 Thus Andrewes offered an hypothesis of class struggle, between an established aristocracy and a new class of hoplites, to account for two phenomena: first, it provided a partial explanation of the early tyrannies, such as that of the Kypselidai at Corinth; second, 2 M. N. Tod, Greek Historical Inscriptions (Oxford, 2nd ed., 1946) No. 1; Jeffery, "The Courts of Justice in Archaic Chios," BSA 51 (1956) 157-167.

Probouleusis and the Sovereign Assembly

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it explained the significance of the Spartan Rhetra. 3 Andrewes' reconstruction has won widespread acceptance, at least as concerns Sparta. That is, some subsequent historians, though diverging from Andrewes on other points concerning the Rhetra, have accepted his hypothesis of a politically conscious hoplite class, whose demands produced the crisis which the Rhetra solved.4 But recently Mr. A. M. Snodgrass ("The Hoplite Reform and History," JHS 85 [1965] 110-122) has cast doubt on a crucial element in Andrewes' theory, namely on the supposed causal connection between the introduction of hoplite tactics and the rise of tyranny. Snodgrass distinguishes between hoplite equipment and hoplite tactics. The equipment consisted of a series of items, which could be adopted piecemeal; even when the whole hoplite panoply had been adopted, this did not at once entail a change to hoplite tactics, that is to the use of the phalanx. Instead Snodgrass recognizes an intermediate stage: at first the piecemeal adoption of hoplite equipment was carried out within the older and less organized type of fighting and in tactics within this intermediate stage it brought at most a tendency to fight at closer quarters. Snodgrass finds that the several elements of hoplite equipment were adopted before 700, but the full panoply first appears about 675 and the phalanx is first attested about 650. Hence he recognizes chronological obstacles to Andrewes' theory: Pheidon, whether he belongs to the eighth century or the first half of the seventh, is too early for his rise to be explained by use of hoplite tactics; if Kypselos gained control of Corinth about 655, this was not due to the social and political effects of the adoption of hoplite tactics, since those effects would take some time to develop; and if those effects in Sparta were appeased by the Rhetra, that document must have been adopted a good deal later than the date about 675 proposed by Messrs. Huxley and Forrest (see 3 T h a t Andrewes' theory is one of class struggle can be shown from numerous passages in the inaugural lecture, for example: (14, with regard to the Corinthian tyranny) " t h e seventh century h a d brought to the front a new class capable of taking over when the aristocracy was overthrown;" (19, on the reform a t Sparta) " t h e composition of the council was fixed; a n d by an explicit division of power the assembly was given rights which it h a d not possessed before. This was a compromise with revolution, a concession to the hoplites, the removal of one at least of the reasons for t y r a n n y ; " (21) " t h e relatively small aristocracies of the seventh century were faced by a relatively large new class with a solid corporate claim for admission to the g o v e r n m e n t . . . machinery h a d to be found which would satisfy the hoplites without giving the control of affairs u p to them completely." 4 G . L . Huxley, Early Sparta (London 1962) 38; Forrest, Phoenix 17 (1963) 169, n. 69 and 173.

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infra, n. 7). Furthermore from general considerations and from comparison with developments in Etruria and Rome, Snodgrass argues that the adoption of hoplite tactics may not have led directly to demands by a hoplite class for political innovation; he inclines, however, to suppose that class demands of this kind emerged in some places later, notably in Athens in the time of Solon. Some of Snodgrass' chronological objections to Andrewes' theory can be avoided. For the Spartan Rhetra a date much later in the seventh century than 675 can be defended. Pheidon is somewhat eccentric on any view of tyranny.5 The Kypselid tyranny is more crucial; although the "high" chronology (ca. 655-ca. 582) is popular nowadays, a "low" chronology has its protagonists6 and would allow an adequate interval to elapse between Corinthian adoption of the hoplite phalanx and Kypselos' seizure of power. But Snodgrass' general and comparative considerations retain their force and encourage the attempt to find an alternative to Andrewes' hypothesis. Yet that hypothesis has the attraction of bringing an extensive range of phenomena under a single explanatory theory. Moreover it faces the basic question, how did the public assembly become sovereign ? This paper will try to show that a different answer to that question is possible. The Spartan Rhetra may be the best starting point. II. THE RHETRA

Discussions of the Rhetra given by Plutarch, Lykourgos 6, have been frequent and they show no signs of abating. 7 Here it will suffice to classify points where opinions may reasonably differ. 5 I incline to accept a date in the first half of the seventh century for Pheidon; see Andrewes, " T h e Corinthian Actaeon and Pheidon of Argos," CQ 43 (1949) 70-78; cf. Bradeen, " T h e Lelantine W a r and Pheidon of Argos," TAP A 78 (1947) 223-241. H e would thus be a contemporary of Archilochos, the first Greek known to have borrowed the Lydian word tyrannis (fr. 22). If Aristotle {Pol. 5.1310b. 26-28) followed an early source in saying that Pheidon became a tyrannos, that source may merely have meant that Pheidon was as splendid as an Oriental pasha. But the literary tradition for seventh-century dates is slippery; in particular the Olympic victor list deserves reexamination. (Huxley [supra, n. 4] 28-30 defends an eighth-century date for Pheidon.) 6 E. Will, Korinthiaka: Recherches sur i'hisioire et la civilisation de Corinthe des origims aux guerres mddiques (Paris 1955) 363-440; cf. my remarks in REG 70 (1957) 318-321. Needless to say I have no reason to believe that Andrewes would concur in an attempt to defend his theory by means of the " l o w " chronology of the Kypselid tyranny. 7 Without attempting a full bibliography, I note the following, which I have found useful. E. Meyer, " D i e lykurgischen Rhetren," Forschungen zur alten Geschichte I (Halle, 2nd ed„ 1A92) 261-269; H . T . Wade-Gery, " T h e Spartan Rhetra in Plutarch Lycurgus V I , "

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1, The text is uncertain at several points and two of these affect the interpretation. First the word preceding etoepeiv is OVTCOS in the manuscripts. Wade-Gery would emend this to TOVTWS; C. F. Hermann suggested NAL TOJS. Emendations of this kind regard "these" or "the aforesaid" as referring to "the gerousia of thirty together with the kings," mentioned shortly before; thus only the gerousia would be empowered to introduce measures (eispherein) into the assembly. If on the other hand the manuscript reading OVTCOS is kept, the right of introducing measures was not necessarily restricted to members of the gerousia but could be exercised by other Spartan citizens (thus Huxley). Second, a corrupt passage follows the word AIOTACR6AI. The opening letters of this passage are not difficult to emend; in favor of reading some case of the word damos one may cite comparable corruptions in the text of Theokritos (1.17; 2.144; 4.13; 4.17; 5.25; 5.77; 7.39), where gamma interchanges with delta. Even those scholars who prefer not to emend the opening gamma to delta restore a word similar in meaning to damos.6 The trouble comes in the ensuing letters avyopnxv7]ij.7)v in the corrupt passage. These can, but need not, be so restored as to imply a right of amendment in the assembly. Thus the question of a right of amendment arises in study of the Rhetra; it has been argued largely on the basis of Aristotle's statements and other classical and post-classical evidence about Spartan procedure. The evidence is inconclusive; one may reasonably maintain either (a) that demos had a right of amendment (Wade-Gery), or (b) that the private citizen in the assembly did not have any right of amendment (A. H. M. Jones), or (c) that the right of amendment belonged, not to private citizens, but to members of the gerousia when they attended the assembly (Butler). 2. The character of the document is uncertain. Here two questions arise. First, is the Rhetra an oracle, as Plutarch says, or is it a Essays in Greek History (Oxford 1958) 37-85 ( = CQ_37 [1943] 62-72; 38 [1944] 1-9 and 115126); N. G. L. Hammond, "The Lycurgean Reform at Sparta," JHS 70 (1950) 42-64; L. H. Jeffery, "The Pact of the First Settlers at Cyrene," Historia 10 (1961) 139-147, especially 144-147; G. L. Huxley, Early Sparta (London 1962) 37-52; D. Butler, "Competence of the Demos in the Spartan Rhetra," Historia 11 (1962) 385-396; W. G. Forrest, " The Date of the Lykourgan Reforms in Sparta," Phoenix 17 (1963) 157-179; A. H. M.Jones, "The Lycurgan Rhetra," Ancient Society and Institutions, Studies presented to V. Ehrenberg (Oxford 1966) 165-175. As will be evident in sections VI and VII, I owe a great deal to Mr. Butler's suggestion of disputes between rival groups within an aristocracy. 8 E.g., J. H. Oliver, Demokratia, the Gods and the Free World (Baltimore 1960) 23-28. 9 + C.S.C.A. II

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Spartan enactment, a meaning which the word "rhetra" could have in Sparta ? Before dealing with procedure for legislation the text refers to several measures, including foundation of a cult, organization by phylai and obai, and establishment of the gerousia. Each of these measures would require fuller statement before it could be carried out; the fact that these measures are compressed summarily into a series of participial clauses may suggest that the text is not a Spartan enactment but the program, issued perhaps by an oracle, for a series of enactments. But if the text is thus at least one step removed from the actual enactments, there is so much more room for speculative interpretation of its terms. Second, is the text one document or two ? Plutarch treats the last clause, about the possibility of a "crooked" response, as a change added subsequently to the main text. But some readers have felt that this "rider" coheres with the main text to form a single enactment. The rider has provoked more than one interpretation, and on any view it is troublesome; for if the main text states a probouleutic procedure which can be compared with that at Athens, the rider adds a restriction for which a parallel is not easy to find. In view of the above uncertainties the Rhetra can be interpreted in any of several ways. It would not be proper to insist on one of these interpretations and then claim the Rhetra as evidence for a theory built on that interpretation. That, however, is not the point. Andrewes' theory of the origin and spread of probouleusis does not rest solely on the Spartan Rhetra; on the contrary it is supported by all the several items it accommodates, from the introduction of hoplite tactics to the Chiote council. A critic accepting the theory can feel satisfied with the Spartan evidence, if one plausible interpretation of the Rhetra accords with the theory. Such an interpretation is available: in spite of the uncertainties indicated above, it is still possible that the Rhetra met the demands of a hoplite class for political power by recognizing popular sovereignty, while restraining it with a provision for probouleusis. Two further uncertainties threaten Andrewes' case more radically. 3. Continuing to pursue Andrewes' theory, the question arises, what difference did the Rhetra make to Spartan practice? In crude terms, what was the Spartan procedure for making decisions before the adoption of the Rhetra or before the agitation which led to the Rhetra, and what change did the Rhetra make in this procedure ?

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There are two extreme possibilities. On the one hand it is conceivable that previously the gerousia alone made decisions and there was no public assembly. O n the other hand it may be that previously decisions were made wholly in the public assembly and there was no gerousia. In between these extremes there are several possibilities. It may be that previously the gerousia had the main voice and the public assembly usually met only to hear decisions already made by the elders; perhaps the assembly had already asserted itself but only in extreme cases, where the gerousia had attempted unpopular decisions on controversial issues. Alternatively it is conceivable that previously real decisions had usually been taken in the assembly and the gerousia had only contrived to assert itself in special circumstances, where strong influence could be brought to bear. Any hypothesis on this question must say either that previously the gerousia played a larger part than was allowed to it by the Rhetra, or that previously the assembly played a larger part than was allowed to it by the Rhetra. Thus any such hypothesis must say either that the Rhetra and the preceding agitation increased the authority of the assembly or that they increased the authority of the gerousia. Andrewes apparently chooses hypotheses of the one type, since he believes that in the general course of Greek history constitutions grew more complicated and articulate because of pressure from successively wider circles of the population, and in particular he thinks that in seventh-century Sparta the introduction of hoplite tactics prompted substantial peasant-farmers to claim a share in political power {Probouleusis 6, 13-16, 19). But a hypothesis of the other type could perhaps be defended. The problem can be given a further dimension. In section IV an attempt will be made to show that at least one ancient state developed probouleutic procedure without copying it, directly or indirectly, from Sparta. If that is correct, it is then possible that probouleusis in Sparta was not introduced by the Rhetra but had developed beforehand as a customary procedure; then the Rhetra, if it is a genuine document of the archaic period, would reassert a traditional practice. But on this view the present question arises afresh: did the Rhetra try to reassert traditional practice against the encroachments of the gerousia or against the encroachments of the assembly? 4. Finally, is the Rhetra authentic ? If it purports to be a law, it was written down for preservation, since it is not in verse; but the

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Spartans boasted of having no written laws (Plut. Lyc. 13). Miss Jeffery has noted this oddity. Moreover she has drawn attention to several stylistic features which seem to be literary rather than legal: the phrase horas ex floras, the succession of three verbs in -zo, and the asyndeton of the four opening participial phrases. Above all she has studied the word archagetas, which was always troublesome in the Rhetra, and she has pointed out that it properly refers to the founder of a cult or of a colony. Mr. Forrest (supra, n. 7) 179 has tried to justify the word archagetas. He believes that the Rhetra is a genuine program of reforms carried out by the kings Theopompos and Polydoros between 700 and 669. They could, he suggests, be called "founders" for either of two reasons: the first participial clause of the Rhetra orders foundation of a cult of Zeus Syllanios and Athena Syllania, and Theopompos and Polydoros were founders of the new political dispensation. Forrest's solution is not satisfactory. He shows that Theopompos and Polydoros could perhaps be called archagetai for special reasons. But when the Rhetra uses the term, both in the main text and in the rider, it states provisions which are not restricted to Theopompos and Polydoros but apply to all successive kings of Sparta. Both clauses require the regular title of the kings of archaic Sparta. Admittedly one cannot insist that that title was basileus; one might be more inclined to say so, if basileus were an Indo-European word. But at least the title is not likely to have been archagetas, since that word already has a Greek meaning, according with its etymology. Both the use of the word archagetas in the Rhetra and the stylistic points assembled by Miss Jeffery should arouse some doubts about authenticity. The phrase about phylai and obai becomes more alarming on examination. There are good reasons to believe that the Spartan citizens were originally divided into the three Dorian tribes, and later this was superseded by a division based on the territorial units of Sparta and Amyklai; the term oba belonged to the new system. 9 Then in the Rhetra the phrase about phylai and obai may show that the older system was kept for some purposes alongside the new, if phylai is understood as referring to the Dorian tribes. But if so, it is odd that both systems of division are mentioned in the same breath, when one of them no longer mattered for major public purposes. In Attica the traditional four tribes persisted for some religious purposes even after the reforms 9 Wade-Gery (supra, n. 7) 66-85 ( = CQ_ 38 [1944] 115-126); Beattie, "An Early Laconian Lex Sacra," CQ.NS 1 (1951) 46-58; Huxley (supra, n. 7) 47-49.

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of Kleisthenes, but one did not refer to the two tribal systems in the same breath as if both retained equal significance for social organization. Alternatively the phrase in the Rhetra about phylai and obai should perhaps be understood as referring solely to the new division of Spartans on a territorial basis; on this view obai will be a subdivision of phylai. But if that is so, it is strange that the Rhetra names both phylai and obai; one of the units must have been crucial for summoning the people as a formal assembly, and a reference to that one alone would suffice. If the Rhetra sought to specify in full the composition of phylai and obai, it would have to name both; but it merely alludes to the need for observing the formal division of the Spartan people. The same difficulty confronts theories which suppose that the new division of Spartan citizens combined classification by the Dorian tribes with classification on a territorial basis. For example, Professor Huxley holds that by 676 the Spartans were still divided into the three Dorian tribes but they were also divided into nine obai on a territorial basis; thus there were twenty-seven ultimate units and these were called phratriai. On this view one would expect the Rhetra to name only the phratriai, or whichever unit the legislator considered decisive for organization of the assembly. In short, the phrase V\as vAcc£AVTCC K